“Boys?” said Moses. “I need you to put your backs to us for a while. Here, girl,” she said, easing the blanket under Amira. “I jus’ need you to relax so I’s can have a quick look at you.”
Moses put her hands under Amira’s skirt, and Samantha looked away.
“No point hiding from it,” said Moses. “This here girl’s having a baby soon, and you’re probably gon’ be there to help deliver it.”
Samantha shot around. “She’s having the baby now?”
Moses put her hands on Amira’s rounded stomach. “No, not yet. They done now, ain’t they?” she asked. The girl nodded. “That was’ jus’ her body practicing for the real thing. But it’s a sign that this baby be thinkin’ about coming out. So we gots to keep moving.”
Samantha closed her eyes. She found it made her feel less sick. Everything in her body hurt – her legs from being bent, her neck from being stretched, her arm from bearing the weight of her body as it endured every jolt and divot in the road. It was their second day of traveling. Moses said they’d lost time yesterday, so they would need to move faster. She wanted to reach Pennsylvania by nightfall. To Samantha, in private, she’d whispered, “We gots to get Amira as far north as we can ‘fore that baby comes.”
The days wore on. The further north they went, the colder it got. They’d spent nights huddled around a weak fire and nothing Samantha did relieved the chill from her bones. In the compartment, she was grateful for the warmth of Amira’s back pressed into her stomach, but the rest of her body felt as if she were in ice-cold water. She thought of Mont Verity, where – even in the dead of winter – she had never been cold. Well-tended fireplaces ensured her comfort in every part of the house.
It was the tenth day of their journey and Samantha could not stop the tears from streaming down her face. Since her arms were pinned, she was unable to wipe them away. Instead they clung to her skin, drawing in the cool air even more.
Through the cracks in the compartment she could see the sky getting darker. She could smell dampness and mud: a river, she thought. The ground became uneven, throwing Samantha and Amira about the compartment, despite the limited space.
“Miss Sammy,” whispered Amira, “I don’t think I can do this no more.”
“Hang on, Amira,” said Samantha. “We must be stopping soon.”
After a series of jolts, the horses stopped. Samantha heard water lapping against a low bank.
Samantha heard voices, and a rustling in Odus and Wool’s wagon.
“This here is the Hudson,” she heard Moses say. “It’s about a fifty miles to Troy. On foot you can expect it take you about two days. Take this.”
“Oh, Miss Moses, ma’am, I can’t take no more from you. You done so much already.” It was Wool.
“Please. Take it. And good luck finding your family.”
“Thank you, ma’am. And God bless you.”
She heard footsteps on a gravel road as Moses’ weight bore down on the wagon’s seat. The horses started again.
“We makin’ good time,” said Moses. “We might make it by tomorrow night if we don’t come across no trouble.”
Samantha heard the words, but couldn’t take them in.
She was asleep by the time they stopped for the night. Moses and Odus helped Amira and Samantha out of the compartment. Odus held Samantha’s hands as he lifted her to the ground and Samantha did not want him to let go. Then she noticed their surroundings and her mouth fell open.
A large fire burned in the middle of a small clearing in the woods. Several people sat around it – some sitting, some singing, some dancing, some playing flutes and drums. They wore a mixture of cotton and hide. The smell of meat filled the air and, as they got closer to the fire, Samantha could see a wild boar carcass roasting over embers. Some of the woman sat with babies, their breasts exposed to the night air as the babies suckled. The men’s heads were devoid of hair, except for a small square centered on the back of their skulls.
“Indians,” Samantha said. Savages, she heard her mother say.
“The Negro’s best friend,” said Moses.
Moses made her way towards the fire, where she was fervently greeted by a man who wore a tall headdress made of feathers. Moses pointed towards Samantha, Odus and Amira, talking in a language Samantha could not understand. A woman with gray braided hair and a face lined with kindness approached them.
“You,” she said to Amira, putting a gentle hand on Amira’s belly. “We can take care of you over here.”
Samantha could not hide her surprise at how well the woman spoke English. She watched as the woman led Amira into a house that was three times longer than it was wide. Sheets of thin wood covered the arched frame. Moses approached with two plates of stew.
“Here,” she said. “Take this into that longhouse over there and eat. Then I want you to get some sleep. We gots another long day tomorrow.”
Odus and Samantha did as they were told. The longhouse they entered had a fire burning in its center, surrounded by log stumps for sitting. Four beds made of canvas and hay lined the perimeter, each covered with thick bear hide. Odus and Amira ate their stew in silence.
“I’ll take them plates back, Miss Sammy,” said Odus when they’d finished. Samantha knew he was leaving so she could get undressed for bed, but she did not want him to go. She readied herself for sleep, washing her face and hands in the wooden basin to the side, and crawled under the bear hide. She hoped to still be awake by the time Odus returned. It was the first time she’d been alone with him since they left Virginia. Not that she knew what she’d say or do. All she knew was that a space felt differently when he was in it, and when he was gone, it felt like nothing could ever feel right again.
Samantha woke to a woman bringing in wood for the fire. Sun streamed in through the longhouse door. Smells of roasting meat and grass drifted in with sounds of morning laughter. Two of the three beds in the room had been slept in, but were now empty. If Odus had been here, she’d missed him.
The woman pointed out the door and handed Samantha a breechcloth made of deerskin, like the other women in the tribe wore. “You, go to river. Bathe. Then come back for food.” The woman picked up Samantha’s riding dress. Its whiteness was now replaced by brown dirt and gray clay. “I will wash this.”
Samantha waited for the woman to leave before crawling out from under the hide and putting on the breechcloth. Once out of the longhouse, she took in the sight around her.
It was a beautiful, warm day. The river below sparkled in the sunshine, cutting a curved line through a small mountain range that was reflected in the river’s wide expanse. Behind her, women and men went quietly about their business. The younger women suckled babies and toddlers; the older ones cooked, swept out the longhouses and gathered wood. There were few men on the site; Samantha could only guess they’d already ventured out on a morning hunt.
She walked along the river’s edge looking for a secluded place in which to bathe. She did not have to go far – the woods and the river held each other close, creating several sheltered coves. She slithered down the bank and let the wet silt ooze in between her toes. Ahead she saw a patch of flat bank and decided she would undress there.
Moses appeared at the top of the bank, wearing a breechcloth like the one Samantha had been given. Her hair, which had been hidden under a hat since the day they met, was still wet, although already starting to curl. In the tunic, her womanly shape was unmistakable.
How does a woman like Moses end up helping escaped slaves? Samantha thought. Had she been a slave once herself? How many slaves has she helped? Samantha’s head flooded with questions she feared she’d never have the chance to ask.
“Go on in, girl,” said Moses. “The water is mighty fine this morning.”
Samantha made her way towards the flattened part of the lower bank. Once there, she sat on a low rock and began to pull her arms out of the breechcloth’s sleeves. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a head bobbing in the river about 50
feet away. It was Odus, swimming toward the bank farther along the river. He had not seen Samantha, but she felt the blood rushing faster through her veins.
She watched as he swam towards the shore. He reached the shallow part of the river and stood up. Samantha gasped and covered her mouth. She’d never seen a man naked before and knew she should turn away or shield her eyes, but she couldn’t. Instead she watched as he waded to the bank, his long, sinewy limbs glistening in the sun. He stepped out at the bank and brushed himself dry before pulling trousers over his damp skin. He climbed up the steep bank and walked towards the camp.
He’s coming this way. He’s bound to see me now. She put her arms back in the sleeves and hid under the bank’s ledge. After a few minutes, she emerged, sure he would be gone.
“Good morning, Miss Sammy.” Samantha jumped. Odus stood above her on the bank.
“Oh! Hello! I didn’t know you were here. I was just about to have a wash. Have you had a wash?” The words came out frantically, nervously, and Samantha found she had no control over her body’s movements. Her hands went from her hips to crossed in front of her, her weight shifting like a pendulum. She dared not look at his face.
Odus grinned. “Yes, Miss Sammy. I’ve had a wash.” He walked away. He knows I saw him, she thought. Oh, God – what must he think of me?
She waited until he was out of sight before pulling off the breechcloth and jumping into the cold water, wishing the river could wash away the flittering sensation that came every time Odus was near.
After a breakfast of cornbread, rabbit stew and dried fruit, Samantha, Moses, Odus and Amira gathered by the wagons. Samantha wore her riding dress, freshly washed and dried over the fire. Two of the younger men loaded parcels of food and extra canvas. Samantha watched the kindly woman from the previous evening give Amira a parcel wrapped in a muslin cloth. “If you feel baby coming in wagon, eat this. Baby will stop coming, but only for little while.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Amira.
“We hoping to make Battenkill by nightfall,” Samantha heard Moses say to the head of the tribe. “Then I coming back down to make another run. I see you then. Thank you for all you do.”
The chief smiled and bowed. Odus helped Amira into the compartment. Amira struggled to curl tight so Samantha could fit in the compartment.
Moses made her way towards the wagon. Samantha approached her and spoke in a low voice. “Amira isn’t going to last much longer.”
“I know. I jus’ need us to get to Five Corners. She be able to stay there long enough to have the baby.”
Samantha felt her toes curl inside her boots. “I think she should have her own compartment until we get there. She’ll be more comfortable that way.”
Moses looked at Samantha with wide, surprised eyes. “What you sayin’, Miss Sammy?”
“I think I should travel in the other compartment. It will give Amira more space.”
Moses looked over at Odus with a glint in her eye. “You know that means sharing with Odus, don’t you, Miss Sammy?”
Samantha’s stomach was on fire. “Yes, I do. But it will only be for one day. And if it means Amira is more comfortable then I’m willing to make that sacrifice.” She quickly turned to the second wagon, deliberately avoiding Moses’ knowing smile.
Odus couldn’t believe what was happening. Samantha had explained it so quickly. Something about Amira and her size and how it made perfect sense that she ride with him for the rest of the journey. Before he could even respond and offer to ride with Amira himself, Samantha had crawled into the compartment and pressed herself against the back to make room for him.
Odus knew a great many things, one of the most important being that a black man was never to look at a white woman, let alone share a hidden compartment with one. Surely there had been some mistake?
“Well, come on, boy, we don’t got all day.” Moses’ voice bounced across the river and back. Odus shrugged, mainly to himself, and nervously got in.
When Samantha had shared with Amira, her only possible arrangement was to be sandwiched against the girl’s body in the compartment; there was simply no room for it to be any other way. Odus, however, managed to press himself against the other side of the compartment so tightly that Samantha could hardly feel him at all. Even as Moses started the horses and the wagon began its now-familiar rocking and rolling, he stayed as far away from her as he could get, given their circumstances.
He doesn’t want to touch me, she thought. Is that because he knows he’s not meant to, or because he doesn’t want to?
Fine, she resolved. I suppose that tells me all I need to know.
She fell asleep. When she woke up, something was different. Something felt wrong.
Then she realized: Moses had stopped singing.
“Whoa,” she said, and the wagons were brought to an abrupt stop. The sound of horse’s hooves approached.
“Mornin’, ma’am. Where do you think you’re going?”
“Vermont, sah. Gots me a delivery I’s making to the Negro settlement up there.”
Samantha heard footsteps walk the perimeter of the wagon.
“I need you to unload it all,” he said.
We’re dead, Samantha thought.
“Sah?” said Moses.
“You heard me.”
The wagon shifted as Moses got down. Samantha heard her pull the canvas back.
She couldn’t be sure how long it took for Moses to unload the two wagons. She did know she did it by herself; the white man, whoever he was, didn’t help. For what felt like hours the wagon’s suspension creaked with relief as the contents were emptied onto the ground.
“What’s this here?” the man said.
“Case of whisky, sah,” said Moses.
“Open it.”
Moses did as she was told.
“Well, I can’t let you move on with this,’ said the man. ‘A bunch of Negroes drunk on whisky just sounds like a recipe for trouble, if you ask me.’
“Yes, sah.”
“What else you got in here?”
“Dried beef, corn meal …”
“Give it to me.”
Moses again did what she was told.
“I suppose that’ll do. You can load it back in now.”
Samantha heard the man get back on his horse, the whisky bottles clattering in his side packs as he galloped away.
“He gone now,” said Moses, as she lugged the first crate back onto the wagon. “He gone.”
Samantha let out the breath she’d been holding while the man had searched the wagon. Only then did she notice that Odus had been holding her the whole time. As she exhaled he eased the grip his arm had around her torso. Before he could remove it, Samantha grabbed his hand, pulled it in, and did not let it go.
When the wagon finally came to a stop, Samantha was asleep, her hand still holding tight to Odus. The latch to the compartment opened and Samantha was surprised to see not Moses, but a white man with weathered skin and green eyes.
“Give me your hand,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. Samantha did as she was told and was pulled into the cool, night air. She looked up at the stars, then at the mountainous horizon that curved and rolled just like the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. As Odus crawled out, she turned and saw a two-story building, standing on its own in the corner of a four-way crossroads. The painted sign read Store at Five Corners.
“Well, now,” he said, “not often we see a white woman in here.”
“This one’s special,” said Moses, as he helped her down from the wagon.
The man put his arm around Moses’ shoulder like she was an old friend. “Nice to have you safely back in these parts.”
Moses laughed. “Theodore Mason. It’s mighty good to see you.”
What Moses, Theodore Mason, Samantha, Odus and Amira did not see was the man who had pulled the wagon over earlier that day, watching them from the woods on the opposite side of the crossroads. A simple man, cruel, and always out for a quick
buck. He had heard about a reward for finding a particular white woman with two slaves, and even though he saw nothing to suggest that the round black woman whose goods he’d stolen had anything to do with it, he was willing to put in the time to make sure.
Sipping at the whisky he’d claimed hours earlier, he saw two black women being taken into the store. The white woman and the black man were put back into the compartment that he had completely failed to notice earlier.
A figure emerged from the building, someone who had not been there when the wagons arrived. A pastor. Or at least, someone dressed as one. The man in the woods watched as the pastor climbed into the wagon’s seat and took the reins. When the wagon was out of sight, the man mounted his own horse and rode fast in the opposite direction.
Chapter 23
Annie sat in the darkened kitchen of the Store at Five Corners, her hands cupped around a mug of steaming hot chocolate. It was her second, and every sip was a palliative comfort. An empty plate graced the table, holding the remnants of a grilled cheese sandwich. Theo poured hot chicken noodle soup into a large bowl and set it on the table. Annie took a mouthful and, even though it burned her throat, it tasted too good to wait.
“How much more do you want to know?” she asked.
“Everything,” he said. “I want to know everything.”
Annie blew on the soup, inhaled, then picked up where she’d left off.
We did what Dad said that night and drove for eight hours, until the truck ran out of gas. By then it was morning and we were about an hour outside of Charleston, South Carolina. We left the truck in a parking lot near the beach. Before we left I took off the license plates and threw them into the trash. We caught a bus into downtown and found a small bed and breakfast where the lady let us pay cash.
We stayed in Charleston for three days. We didn’t have any clothes – no pajamas, no tooth brushes, nothing. On the second day I finally went out to get things we needed, like shampoo and underwear. There was a Wal-Mart a few blocks away, but I only got as far as the front door. A camera scanned faces at the entrance, and I was too scared to risk being caught. Instead, I found a Goodwill and bought us some clothes and sweats to sleep in. I tried to find things we wouldn’t have worn in Virginia so we’d be harder to recognize.
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