by Ann Towell
The roar totally surrounded us, and there was no escaping it. The darkness made the forest seem angry, angry with us for trespassing. It was as if the trees were chasing us to Oil Springs.
We made good time, but it was dark when we entered the village. I saw tall ornamental lamps lighting the main street. Lem told me they used the fuel they distilled from the oil to light these lamps. The place reeked of sulphur. The main street was lined with rooming houses, hotels, and groggeries. People were walking up and down the boardwalk. I saw a horse-drawn bus, just like in London. It was exciting to finally reach our destination. Lem drew the horses up in front of one of the hotels. There were a few men smoking and talking there.
Lem got off Lady, but told me to stay put.
“Lem did he pay you?” I whispered, bending down closer to my brother. I never did see the twenty dollars John owed Lem.
“Hush now, Titus,” Lem said. “I’m going to ask directions to Uncle Amos’s place. You wait here.”
He handed me the reins of the other horse. I could feel Lady’s heaving chest beneath me. I was a bit worried that one of the horses would bolt, and I would end up on the ground.
I watched the flickering lamps that lit up the faces of the men as they talked. Lem soon returned. He took over Luck’s reins and vaulted onto the horse’s back. I was now riding alone, something I had never done before.
“Follow me, Titus,” he said as he made his way through the busy street.
After that wild ride through the night I was glad to be almost there – wherever there was. I guided Lady, trying to avoid other carts and horses. It was muddy, and I could hear her hooves squelching beneath me.
Lem stopped in front of a wooden shanty that seemed rooted in the earth. It wasn’t very big, but it looked sturdy from what I could see. It was in the village and not outside of it like I pictured it. We would be able to see all the goings on from this house. I was glad of that.
A man came to the doorway when we rode up. You could see the glow of the fire and a lamp behind him. But you couldn’t see his face. He was just a big, dark silhouette in the doorway. Uncle Amos was big like Lem. I became worried. He wasn’t expecting me.
“Well, Lem, I see you made it, but who’s that with you?” Uncle Amos said. His voice was gentle and my heart took hope.
“It’s Titus,” Lem replied.
“Titus? The young one?”
“Yes, Uncle Amos.”
I didn’t have the courage to answer the questions for myself.
“What’s he doing so far from home?”
“It’s a long story, Uncle Amos. Do you think we could bed the horses down and then come in?”
“Sure, Lem. Wait, while I get the lantern.”
Uncle Amos went back in the house. He closed the door behind him. A few seconds passed and he returned with the lantern. He was wearing a warm coat now. We followed him to the small barn behind his house. A larger building loomed beside it. Lem and I began taking the leads off of the horses. A pure white cat climbed the stall walls and walked around, watching us with yellow eyes. I reached out to pet it, but it jumped down quickly and disappeared out of the door.
I still hadn’t said a word to my uncle, but did sneak a peek at him now and again while we were in the barn. He had dark hair, like the rest of my family. His beard was big and bushy. His eyebrows came downward in a scowl to his eyes. He looked like my dad, except for the beard. I wasn’t sure what to think of him until he caught me looking at him.
He smiled, his teeth showing real white against his black beard. He ruffled my hair as he walked by me to hang up the traces. I ducked my head, embarrassed. Everybody treats me like a little child.
“So Titus, you think you’ll like it here?”
Just like that, my uncle accepted my being there. He expected me to stay. There were no words of sending me back or anything like that. He must have figured that if Lem brought me, there must be a good reason for it. He didn’t know.
We left the barn, single file. Uncle Amos was in the lead holding the lantern high so we could all see where we were going. I noticed the bits left over in a garden. The cabbage and turnip ends were still there. I figured they would need to be harvested soon.
The door creaked as Uncle Amos opened it, and we all entered. Lem, thankful for the warmth, sat very close to the fire and so did I, though I was on the floor. I took off my damp shoes and socks and put them near the hearth to dry. Uncle Amos put on a kettle of water. He opened a box of dried leaves and put them into a pot. Once he was done with that, he sat with us to wait for the water to boil.
“So let’s have the story, shall we?” Uncle Amos put his elbows on his knees and leaned toward the fire. “I suppose you’ll have to tell it Lem, seeing as Titus here, is mute.”
Lem smiled at that. “You have the wrong of it, Uncle. Titus is rarely quiet.”
“He can talk?” Uncle Amos threw up his hands in mock surprise. He was teasing, and I could tell. I knew I was going to like him.
“Of course I can, Uncle Amos.” I finally found the courage to speak.
“Still, I think I should tell the story,” Lem interrupted. “Seeing as I’m the oldest.”
“Can I tell my side of it?”
“Sure you can, once Lem is finished.” Uncle Amos got up and poured the hot water into the pot.
The steam rose up in a swirl. I looked at their faces in the lamplight. There was a warm glow to this house, even though it was tiny. The floor was rough wood, but a homemade rug was on the floor under our feet. I curled my toes onto the warmth of it.
Lem told the story of his leaving and my running away without any fancy things to add. He didn’t say anything about John, and I was surprised. I guess he figured the less said about John, the better.
When he was done, Uncle Amos leaned back in his chair. He stretched his arms over his head and I could hear the bones cracking in his fingers as he stretched them too. I waited without speaking.
“Now it’s your turn, Titus.”
“I think Lem said it all,” I began cautiously. I wasn’t sure if Uncle Amos liked stories so much as the truth.
“Surely he doesn’t know the whole story.”
“Whatever do you mean Uncle?”
“Does he know why you left?”
“I suppose he does, though I never had the opportunity to tell him.”
“Two days on the road and no opportunity?”
“Well, you see, I was a stowaway. But we took in a traveler. His name’s John Longville, but we left him behind somewheres north of here. This man could talk the hind leg off’n a dog. So, I never had much chance of talking to Lem.”
“A traveling companion, eh?” Uncle Amos laughed and looked to Lem to clear up the story.
“He offered to pay us so I took him, thinking the money would come in handy.”
“And he never paid nothin’.” My voice was filled with disgust.
“That so?” Uncle Amos looked to Lem.
“He paid half, that was the deal … but we left him before he could pay the rest.”
You see, sir, I didn’t know John paid half. That must’ve happened after Lem laid him flat don’t you think? But we were tired, and Uncle Amos said the rest of the story could be told another day.
“’Pears to me that you two need something to eat and then off to bed.”
Uncle Amos cut some bread for us and some hard yellow cheese. It was the best ever, sitting by the fire and toasting that bread on long handled forks that were kept by the hearth. I ate my food quickly and was thankful for it. Uncle Amos piled a few blankets on the floor for us and we slept near the fire.
Sleep came quickly and morning did too. I woke to Uncle Amos whistling. I propped my head on my hand, elbow resting on the floor. I watched him for a while until he noticed me. He pointed his pancake flipper at me.
“Get up you young whipper snapper. I have flapjacks for you.”
I nudged Lem. He yawned and blinked a few times until his eyes became
accustomed to the light. There were only two small windows in that house, but they gave enough light for us. Aunt Sadie wouldn’t have liked it because there were no lace curtains, but I did because there were no lace curtains.
Once we were all at the table eating, Uncle Amos began asking more questions. He wondered if Lem had sent word to Aunt Sadie to let her know where I was. Lem told him that he had written a letter at the first halfway house we came to where we had eaten lunch. Uncle Amos supposed she must have the letter by now.
“I don’t suppose you thought about her worrying, did you?” He looked at me serious-like.
“No sir, I didn’t, at least not until we had gone a far piece from home.”
I guess that’s not the whole truth because I did think about worrying her, but it didn’t bother me none. I figured she deserved it, but I wasn’t going to say anything about that to Uncle Amos because I wanted him to think good of me.
Uncle Amos seemed lost in thought. Then he spoke again. “I want you to write a letter today and tell her how sorry you are that you worried her. I want to read the letter before you send it off.”
After breakfast he gave me a paper and pencil and I sat at the table composing the letter to Aunt Sadie. At first I didn’t know where to begin and said as much. “At the beginning,” was Uncle Amos’s answer as he cleaned the dishes.
After checking it, Uncle Amos added some words to it, but I didn’t read them. He folded the paper and put some sealing wax on it. He told me where the post office was and gave me money for a stamp. I wondered what he had written, but whatever it was, it helped me to stay with him because it wasn’t until Christmas that I saw Aunt Sadie again.
As soon as I was out the door I ran to the main street. I looked back at Uncle Amos’s place and saw that a new house was being built behind the shanty. There were wooden buildings all around me. It was a crowded town, and walking down the side streets felt like I was in a maze. I passed mostly men on my way but I saw a couple of children too.
You could post letters from George Yates’s store. I found it easy because there was a sign on the outside that read POST OFFICE. Men stood at the front of the office around a spittoon talking. Though I longed to stand and listen, I knew it was rude so I walked into the store with my eyes to the ground. One man pulled the brim of my hat down as I walked past.
“You the young-un staying with Amos Sullivan?”
I scuffed the toe of my boot along the boardwalk. “Yes, sir.”
News sure traveled fast in that town.
“Figure you can work in the oil fields boy?” Another man asked.
“I don’t rightly know, seeing as I never done so before.”
“Can you drive a team of horses?”
I looked up to see the man smiling and realized he was teasing me. I clutched the letter in my hand, wrinkling it. “No, sir. Horses are big creatures and I suppose they need someone stronger than me to look after them.”
“You figured that right, boy.”
He smiled again. In fact all the men smiled, then one pointed to my letter and he gave me a nickel.
“Go in and get yourself a treat while mailing that letter.”
That man was James Wakefield, though I didn’t know it at the time. He was a very good friend of my Uncle Amos. I wasn’t used to people handing me money for candy, so I stood awkwardly for a second or two then I blurted out. “Thank you. Much obliged.”
The men all laughed. I guess my politeness amused them. They were used to rougher ways, living out here on the oil frontier. I could feel my blush and wished I wasn’t quite so embarrassed.
Once I entered I tried to straighten out the letter by flattening it against the counter in the store. I pressed my palms down on it, leaving a few dirty streaks. I sighed realizing it was almost impossible to keep anything clean out here. Even the counter was dingy with dirt.
I went up to Mr. Yates and paid for a stamp. Then I took a little longer trying to decide what to buy with the nickel. He had a jar full of peppermint sticks so I got one for me and one for Lem. I headed back to Uncle Amos’s house thinking he would have some work for me to do once I got there.
Well, sir, I don’t know if you remember the first time you saw a Negro, but I can remember it as clear as day. I was walking along enjoying the sights. A window opened above me and a girl leaned out with a cloth that she shook out vigorously. I was looking up at her when she smiled at me. I tipped my hat to her, which made her laugh. I put the hat back on my head and turned quickly, only to bump into someone.
He was a boy my age. His face was a dark color like the beautiful walnut sideboard Aunt Sadie had in the dining room. His eyes were shining and he seemed friendly because he had a wide smile on his face. I smiled right back. We became friends just like that. All it took was two smiles. I held out my hand to shake, saying, “I’m Titus Sullivan.”
“Moses Croucher.” He shook my hand.
I took the other peppermint stick out of my shirt pocket and handed it to him. I brushed off the little bit of lint on it first. “Some man gave me a nickel to get a treat. I bought two, so this one’s for you.”
Moses’s eyes lit up, and he took the stick breaking it in two. “I’m gonna give this piece to Beulah, my sister.”
I thought of the loaves and the fishes, how Jesus made them multiply. I broke the end off of my stick and put it in my pocket for Lem. What had begun as a treat for one became a treat for four.
“Where you headed?” Moses asked me.
“To my uncle’s home.”
“We could hitch a ride here and drive to the end of the way and ride back again.” Moses pointed at the horse-drawn buses that went up and down the main street many times in the day. They brought the oilmen to and from the fields. It saved them lots of time. I pulled out the three pennies left in my pocket.
“Will this be enough?”
“Sure.” Moses ran ahead of me to catch the bus that was leaving from in front of the Oxford House.
I jumped up behind him as the driver warned Moses. “Here, boy, you ain’t paid your fare.”
Moses glared at him and I put the pennies in the man’s hand. “Will that be enough for the two of us?”
“Just this once. Next time be prepared to pay more.”
“How much more, sir?”
The man never answered me, and the wagon jolted so that I sat down more quickly than I planned. Moses and I laughed at that though I felt I had the stuffing knocked out of me a bit.
“Why was he like that?” I asked Moses.
Moses shrugged his shoulders, but I could see he was hurt and angry at the same time. The man had talked differently to me than to Moses. I was sure of that. I thought it might be because of the color of his skin. I sat thinking there for a while, and Moses asked me why I was so quiet.
I shrugged my shoulders back at him. I wasn’t a little kid anymore, and I knew Moses’s pa must have been a slave before he came to Canada. We all knew that’s why the war was going on to the south of us. When we got off at the end of the main street we were quiet, our high spirits deflated.
“That wasn’t as much fun as I planned on,” Moses said.
“It weren’t any fault of yours,” I said trying to be cheerful. “Sometimes adults are the most hard-brained people in the world. Don’t figure you should let it bother you none. He’s just one man.”
“If only he was just one man,” Moses replied thoughtfully.
“What do you mean?” I was puzzled. I didn’t seem to understand that the man could be more than one man. But that isn’t what Moses meant, and I know that now.
We stood on the sidewalk trying to come up with something to do when we heard shouts coming from the east of us. I looked to where people were pointing and saw billows of black smoke rising into the air. The cry of “Fire” ripped through the air around us.
CHAPTER
6
The smoke was coming from the creek. Moses led the way, since he knew the area better than me. I followed him
, trying to keep up with his long legs. He ran very fast. People kept jostling me and getting in the way. I lost sight of him a few times. Once I was almost knocked down, but some man held on to me so I wouldn’t fall. He pulled me aside and let the flow of people by.
“Don’t suppose Amos would thank me much if I let you get trampled underfoot. Follow me.”
I looked up to see James Wakefield. The man knew a shortcut and we headed down to the creek. It was an awesome sight seeing the creek on fire.
“What makes it do that?” Everyone knows that water doesn’t burn.
“There’s oil slicks on the top of the water. Someone’s still must’ve been too close to the creek. Not the first time it’s happened.”
“How … can … it … be … stopped?” I had been running and was out of breath and my words came out slowly and painfully. I hunched over and put my hands on my knees. Mr. Wakefield had disappeared into the thick smoke.
It was an inferno. Flames leaped and danced in a frenzy. The smoke billowed straight up and then drifted over the town. People were coughing and trying to see clear of the smoke. I didn’t want to get too close to the creek. Not only was the heat unbearable, I knew I would only be in the way. My eyes were hurting and my glasses were completely dirty. I tried to wipe them clean on my shirt, but that just made them a blurry mess, so I put them in my pocket next to the bit of peppermint stick.
I couldn’t find Moses. I walked without knowing where I was going. I bumped into people, apologizing as I went. I couldn’t get my bearings because nothing was familiar. The voices were loud all around me. Sweat dripped down my forehead, into my eyes. Now I was really blind and afraid. I stood still and wondered what I should do next. Someone bumped into me, and I didn’t think anything of it because I had been bumped into a bunch of times already.
I wanted someone to rescue me. Then I had the sense to call out. I yelled out Moses’s name. “Stop hollering. He ain’t gonna come down from heaven to help you no matter how loud you yell.” It was a girl’s voice at my elbow.
“I ain’t callin’ that Moses,” I tried to put as much anger in my voice as possible.