Underground

by Gayle O'Brien

  Annie smiled to herself. He sounded just like her dad.

  Theo shone the light through the gap. He looked at Annie. “Shall we?”

  She watched him crawl backwards, on his stomach. By the time she followed he was already sitting on Samantha’s bed, shining the light around the small space.

  “This is amazing,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Gosh, where do I start? The fact that this is here. That it was so well hidden. That some girl was writing a letter while sitting in this very spot over 150 years ago and that it’s been here ever since, waiting for you to find. I mean, don’t you think it’s incredible?”

  Annie didn’t have time to answer. Theo was on his knees, unwrapping the canvas sheet from its hay bed.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Exploring. Do you mind? I mean, you found the letter in the Bible – who knows what else she might have hidden in here?”

  Annie hadn’t thought of that. She watched Theo pat his hand over the hay. The smell of mold permeated the space.

  “It’s incredible that this is so intact.” He wrinkled his nose. “A little on the smelly side, though. So, where’s your Mom?”

  Her mother was in Annie’s bedroom. Annie was only able to convince her to let Theo in under the guise of him fixing the washing machine. Her mother conceded, but only if she could hide upstairs.

  “We probably shouldn’t stay down here for too long,” she said.

  “Well, there’s nothing under here,” he said, folding the sheet back over the hay.

  He shone the flashlight onto the lantern, still as Annie had found it sitting on the wooden crate.

  “Wow, this is a relic.” He picked it up. Annie watched its shadow dance on the wall. “I’m sure I’ve never seen one this old. We’ve got some old ones in our barn, but I’d be amazed if any of them could compete with this.” He lifted it to his nose. “You can still smell the kerosene.”

  He set it down on the floor and handed Annie the flashlight. “Can you hold this for me?”

  He put his hands on either side of the crate and gently pressed.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I want to pick it up, but I want to make sure it won’t fall apart if I do.” He lifted it up and Annie shone the light on its empty imprint on the floor.

  “Darn,” he said. “I was hoping she’d have put something under here. Oh well. Too much to hope for.”

  As he set it down, the flashlight’s beam caught a reflection.

  “Theo, wait,” said Annie. She handed him the flashlight and turned the crate over. As she reached in, she felt a wooden handle. She pulled, but it didn’t give. She jiggled it a few times until it broke free and she could bring it out into the light.

  “Whoa,” said Theo.

  It was a knife, the silver blade about ten inches long with no hint of rust. A few small dark stains marred the cutting edge. Annie put her finger to its tip.

  “Ow,” she said. Blood oozed out of the small puncture the knife made in her skin.

  “Careful,” said Theo.

  She laid the knife flat on her palms. On the wooden handle was an oval copper plate, tarnished green with age.

  “There’s an inscription on it,” said Theo, leaning over and shining the light.

  Annie read. “To Elijah Fabre, With Love from Samantha Weston, 1861.”

  “Fabre,” said Theo. “That name rings a bell.”

  He crawled back into the main part of the basement. Annie followed and found him rifling through his backpack. He pulled out a piece of paper. “Yes, here it is.”

  Annie stood next to him. As he showed her the paper, his arm brushed against her shoulder. For the first time, she didn’t mind.

  “When I looked up plantations in Beckwith Station this one actually came up first – a place called Dominion Royale that was owned by the Fabre family. During the war the family were evicted and the house was used as a hospital by the Union Army. When they no longer needed it, they burned it.”

  “Elijah Fabre,” Annie muttered. Something about his name struck a chord, but she couldn’t immediately place it. There were two townhouse complexes near Clinton – one was called Dominion Heights and the other was called Royale Acres. Somehow they weren’t what felt familiar.

  “I wonder …” She pulled the Bible out of her bag and opened it to the page with the letters and numbers. Theo stood behind her and read over her shoulder.

  “Here,” she said, “at the bottom. SW and EF. They’re initials. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

  Theo took the Bible and Annie watched his eyes scan the page.

  “Why didn’t you show me this earlier?” The anger in his voice startled her.

  “I … I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know what to make of it and thought I’d wait until I did.”

  Theo looked at the page like it was a ghost.

  “Theo, what is it?”

  He studied the page one last time. “I’ve seen this before,” he said. “There’s something exactly like it in my barn.”

  Flakes of icy snow fell from the gray sky as Theo drove back to the Store at Five Corners. James Taylor played through the speakers. Annie looked out the window at the mountains covered in white and felt, for the first time since the night everything changed, like the past year had been merely a dream. Here she was, riding in a truck with a boy, wearing his coat. It was almost like she was normal.

  “I mean, it’s just always been there,” said Theo. “I used to wonder what it was. I even asked my dad once, but he didn’t know. He guessed they were measurements or a log of some kind.”

  Theo pulled in behind the store. Annie followed him up a small hill in the backyard. The ground was a mix of ice, mud and snow. The old graveyard she’d seen from Theo’s bedroom window was nothing but bumps in the snow. Despite Theo’s coat, Annie felt her hands going numb under her mittens.

  He pulled open the doors to the barn and three kittens scattered.

  “My grandfather kept horses in here until the 1950s. I used to play in the hayloft a lot when I was a kid, but, well, I’m not a kid anymore.”

  Annie followed him to a set of disused horse stalls. Theo swept away the hay and dirt with his foot, revealing the outline of a square trapdoor. He grabbed a crowbar hanging from the wall and pried the door open. It popped out of its frame, and Theo leaned it against the wall of the barn.

  “See?”

  Annie sat down, her feet dangling into the hole Theo had just revealed. On the underside of the trapdoor lay a list of letters and numbers in exactly the same format as the ones Annie had. She opened the Bible to the inside cover and held it up. Theo ran his finger down the list.

  AK - 12/4/56

  JS - 12/4/56

  MB - 4/17/57

  CT - 7/4/57, GB

  ZT - 7/4/57, FD

  AA - 1/8/58

  DF - 3/12/58, M

  HY - 9/23/58

  GK - 7/4/59, DS

  BR - 2/13/60

  HN - 6/29/60, FD

  GR - 7/13/60

  HJ - 9/17/60, M

  EF - 3/27/61

  SW - 3/27/61

  Then he compared it to the ones on the door.

  AK - 12/4/56

  JS - 12/4/56

  M - 4/17/57

  CT - 7/4/57, GB

  ZT - 7/4/57, FD

  AA - 1/8/58

  DF - 3/12/58, M

  HY - 9/23/58

  GK - 7/4/59, DS

  BR - 2/13/60

  HN - 6/29/60, FD

  GR -7/13/60

  AF - 3/27/61

  BV - 4/12/61

  TG - 6/26/61, ESF

  MO - 9/1/61

  VX - 11/16/61, ESF

  OY - 12/31/61

  KJ - 2/13/62

  GR - 6/25/62, ESF

  VC - 1/6/63, ESF

  KA - 1/6/63, ESF

  HA - 1/6/63, ESF

  PT - 4/11/63, ESF

  “They’re not exactly the sa
me, but they’re pretty close.”

  “Until here,” said Annie, pointing to the list in the Bible. “Mine ends at SW.”

  “And mine keeps going. Although the date that yours ends matches the date here on mine – with initials AF.” His eyes darted between the two and he sighed. “I don’t get it.”

  Annie closed her eyes and thought about the contents of Samantha’s letter. “She was in love. In her letter she talks about this great love, about how she is content to live in a world knowing such love exists. Maybe she was talking about Elijah Fabre. Maybe her parents didn’t want them to get married so they ran away.”

  Theo considered this. “If Dominion Royale was the Weston’s closest neighboring plantation then her father must have known Elijah Fabre. Why doesn’t she just tell him who it is?”

  “Maybe because she knew he wouldn’t approve.”

  They sat in silence, both unsure of what to do.

  Theo slapped his hands onto his thighs. “Come on. There’s still so much more to know.” He took her hand and they helped each other up.

  “Hey, where did you leave the knife? We should find a safe place for that.”

  “I already have,” she said and looked down. The handle was just visible above the knife loop in her cowboy boot.

  Her father had been right. You never knew when something like that would come in handy.

  Chapter 10

  “Stay close,” Samantha whispered. “And for Heaven’s sake, don’t make a sound.”

  Samantha, Odus and Amira peeked through the edge of the woods, looking over the tall grass to the scythed lawn and towards the main house. Yellow light emanated from the downstairs windows. Dozens of darkened figures lingered on the back terrace. Samantha looked at the rows of carriages lined six-deep along the side of the house, above which sat Samantha’s bedroom window. All they had to do was get to the carriages unseen, then climb up the pillar and into safety.

  She was about to lead them back the way she came, through the tall grass, when she saw that it was still matted down from where she’d run over it earlier. She couldn’t risk taking the slaves back that way – what if someone noticed in the morning that the grass had been trampled? She looked across the lawn and decided the safest way back was also the most dangerous: they would have to crawl across the lawn.

  “We need to get to those carriages,” she whispered. “Do as I do.”

  Samantha got onto her stomach and began crawling on her elbows. The dampness from the grass permeated the cloth of her dress. All she could hope was the light from the house made it hard for those on the terrace to see what was happening on the lawn.

  The more she crawled, the more infuriated with Eli she became. What was he thinking? This was complete madness, anyone could see that. They were sure to be caught. She doubted he’d even stopped to think of the repercussions if that happened. How this could possibly make any difference to her parents’ decision that she marry Royal completely eluded her.

  After what felt like a lifetime, they reached the nearest carriage, unseen. Samantha crouched under it and waited. Odus and Amira were a few feet behind, and she could hear Odus gently urging Amira on.

  “We almost there. Just a bit more.”

  Samantha was about to shush him when Amira’s face came into view. The girl was clearly tired and in pain.

  “Okay,” Samantha whispered, “we’re going to crawl under the carriages until we get to the side of the house. Stay as close as you can to the back wheels and for God’s sake don’t spook the horses. See the corner window at the edge of the front terrace? That’s my bedroom. We need to climb up the side pillar to get there. Can you do that?”

  Odus looked at Amira, who looked as if she might cry. “We can do it, ma’am. I’ll help Amira.” He put his hand on her arm. “It’s gon’ be okay.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes. “Come on.”

  They crawled under the carriages. Samantha’s dress got stuck under her knees, making her stumble. She stifled the urge to curse. As they got closer to the side of the house, the two slaves who had been guarding the house’s entrance now sat on the side railing of the frontterrace. Their backs were turned; their legs dangled. One sat leaning against the exact pillar Samantha, Odus and Amira needed to climb.

  “Dammit,” she whispered.

  She turned to Odus and Amira. “Don’t move until I say so. But when I do, you have to move fast.”

  They both nodded.

  She crawled under the carriage closest to her window and positioned herself between its two front wheels. It was in the first row, so the horse – she hoped – would have a clear and long run. She reached up the left-hand side of the wheel shaft and felt for the brake lever. Visions of the many ways in which her arm might get torn off flashed through her head.

  I’m going to kill Eli, she thought.

  The brake would not budge. Samantha knew she needed to reach higher, to get more leverage, but she couldn’t risk the slaves on the terrace seeing her. She reached up and pulled again, her muscles shaking with exertion. She could not get it to move.

  A hand slid onto her shoulder and she nearly screamed. Odus had crawled next to her and motioned for her to take his place with Amira underneath the other carriage.

  “Be careful,” she whispered. “You could lose your arm if you aren’t quick.”

  “Better mine than yours, ma’am.”

  Samantha crawled back. She watched Odus’ sinewy arm reach up, his lean muscles bulging as he pulled back the brake lever in one clean motion.

  The horses bucked immediately, then darted from their position, racing down the drive and past the gatehouse.

  “Holy Moses!” yelled one of the slaves, jumping from his perch and running after the carriage. “That be Master Fabre’s.” The other slave ran inside. Samantha rolled out from under the other carriage and pulled Amira with her.

  Odus was nowhere to be seen. Samantha panicked, fearful his arm was stuck in the wheel shaft or his shirt caught in the mechanism and he was being pulled along down the drive.

  Or, it hit her, he had taken the chance to run away.

  “Psst,” she heard, and looked up. Odus was on the terrace’s roof, extending his hand.

  Samantha hoisted Amira up on the railing. Amira hugged the pillar and attempted to pull herself up, but it was clear she did not have the strength to pull her own body weight.

  “What do you mean the horses just ran off? What on earth did you do?”

  The voice of Royal Fabre approached the front door. Samantha jumped onto the railing and cupped her hands around Amira’s left foot. She heaved, and almost immediately the weight of the girl was lifted. Samantha looked up to see Odus pulling Amira up without making a sound. He then held out his hand to Samantha.

  “Well, this isn’t what I expected to see out here.”

  Samantha froze. Royal Fabre stood in front of her, his face level with her waist. A slave stood behind him. She quickly glanced up to the roof. Odus had disappeared.

  “Mas’suh Fabre, what you want me to do about your carriage?”

  Royal spoke to him without taking his eyes off Samantha. “You go and get it. I’ll wait here.”

  The slave obeyed and ran off the terrace.

  Samantha felt ridiculous, stuck in the position in which he found her – toes balanced on the railing, arms extended, her hands holding onto the edge of the flat roof of the terrace above. Royal’s eyes ran over her outstretched body and the damp riding dress that clung to her skin. If she covered herself, she might fall off the railing. If she climbed up onto the roof to escape, he might tell her parents.

  Royal stepped forward and put his hands around her waist. Her own hands clamped onto his and she dug her fingernails into his skin.

  Royal laughed. “Easy there. I’m just helping you off.” He lifted her as though she weighed no more than a sunflower and gently set her down.

  “You want to tell me what you’re doing out here?” “Fresh air,” she said.

&n
bsp; “I see. Would you like me to fetch your mother?” “No.”

  He motioned to the bench swing on the terrace. “Sit down.”

  Samantha did not move.

  “Please,” he said.

  She sat. Royal pulled a piece of paper out of his inner jacket pocket before joining her on the bench.

  “Here.”

  Samantha held the paper up to the light.

  Master and Mrs. Sanford Weston of Mont Verity are delighted to announce the engagement of their daughter, Samantha Ashton, to Evans Royal Fabre, son of Major and Mrs. Louis Fabre of Dominion Royale.

  The wedding will take place Friday, March 15 at the bride’s residence. The couple will take a brief honeymoon to New Orleans before settling at the Fabre plantation.

  The hand that held the piece of paper collapsed into her lap.

  “It’s being sent to the Beckwith Station Gazette and the Richmond Courier,” said Royal.

  “March 15 is a week from Friday.”

  “Yes.”

  “Royal, I hardly know you. And I don’t love you.”

  “I know.”

  “I want to marry Eli.”

  “Why?” he said. It seemed a genuine question.

  “Because … I love him. And he loves me.”

  Royal sighed. “With all due respect, Samantha, Elijah doesn’t love anyone but himself.”

  “He’s going to prove you wrong, and my father, just you wait.”

  She was trying to bait him, to get him angry. But he remained steady and looked at her calmly.

  “I don’t want to live at Dominion Royale,” she blurted. “I want to stay here. Mont Verity is my home.”

  Royal reached for her hand. She pulled it away. “I have nothing but Mont Verity’s interests at heart. It is my intention to run both plantations, perhaps even merge the two. I’m thinking of felling the woods that join our land to make more pasture. The stream running through it is perfect for irrigation. With two sets of slaves, there’s no end to what we could do.”

  Samantha remembered what she’d overheard him say during dueling practice. “I thought you said slavery wasn’t a viable long-term option. That it would only hold the South back over time.”