Theo pulled the list of initials and dates from his pocket.
“See? The first date SW and EF appears is March 1861. But look, after that it’s ESF. Exodus and Samantha Freeman. Moses Marks, like your mother said.”
“So?”
“So, Samantha Weston did not hang that day. She lived. She became a conductor on the Underground Railroad.”
Annie shook her head. “Theo, I want to believe it’s her. I really do. But I don’t know how we can be sure. How do we know that this Exodus Freeman is really the EF who left the Moses Mark? Or that ESF is really two people?”
“A few reasons.” He took the first piece of paper out of the folder. On it was Theo’s handwriting.
“E and S Freeman are in the town census,” he said. “I looked them up. They first appear in the 1863 census and are there until the 1920s.”
“Of course they are,” said Annie. “Their grave is here. Why wouldn’t they be in the census?”
He handed her the manila folder. “Here,” he said.
Annie opened it. Inside were several pages, all freshly copied. She picked up the first.
Battenkill Courier
June 26, 1861
Marriages, Births and
Deaths
-Married: Exodus Freeman
and Samantha Weston
were married last Saturday
by the Rev. Zachariah
Jennings. We wish this
extraordinary couple well
in their new life together.
“Samantha Weston,” said Annie, running her fingers over the printed name.
“And this,” said Theo, turning over to the next Xeroxed page. It was a copy of an old town photo. The caption read: Battenkill Centenary, July 1876. Annie squinted.
“What am I looking for?”
Theo reached into Annie’s bag and carefully took out Samantha’s cotillion photo. “Here,” he said, pointing to a figure on the town photo. “Compare the two. It’s the same woman.” Annie’s eyes darted between the two photos.
“Okay, they’re similar but there’s no way to tell that they’re the same woman.”
“Look at the man next to her, holding her hand.”
Annie looked and shrugged. “He’s black.”
“Exactly. He was an escaped slave. That’s how she ended up in your house. The Jennings farmhouse was a stop on the Underground Railroad. So was my barn. The Moses Marks are proof. Think about it, Annie – it all makes sense! Why she couldn’t go home again …”
Annie interrupted. “She couldn’t go home again because she killed Elijah Fabre.”
“Yes, but think about why she would have done that! She said in her letter she was in love. All along we’ve thought it was with EF. And now we know who EF is. Exodus Freeman.” He held up the photo and the newspaper announcement in one hand and the list of letters and numbers in the other. “We didn’t think to look for her in photos or newspapers from here. But they were here. They helped slaves get north until Lincoln freed them in 1863. And then they stayed in Battenkill. Exodus Freeman was an escaped slave. He wrote about it.”
He handed her a small brown book. On the cover, in embossed gold letters read:
Songs of Freedom A
collection of poems
By Exodus Freeman
“Where did you find this?”
“My mother’s study. She has quite a few books written by slaves at that time. All kinds of books in there that I never used to look twice at, until I met you.”
Annie took the papers from him. “But how did you know to come here?”
“Remember I told you how every year in school they made us come here and do grave rubbings? I know I told you I only ever did rubbings of my family, but I did used to look at other ones. I remember reading this one. At the time it didn’t occur to me to think what it might mean, or who the people beneath the grave might be.
“It gets better.” He showed her the final piece of paper. “It’s the only one I found, but I’m sure there are more if we do some digging.”
Battenkill Courier
September 19, 1868
Samantha Freeman to be published in The Revolution
Samantha Freeman of Battenkill, wife of renowned poet Exodus Freeman, is to be published in The Revolution, the women’s rights weekly journal. Her essay Suffrage for Women and African-Americans: extending the vote to all will appear in the November issue.
“I’ll bet we can find that essay,” said Theo. “Wouldn’t it be amazing to read more of her words? I wonder how many other things there are to find.”
Annie was afraid to believe that in her hands she held the truth. But it was all there, in black, white, subtle shades of gray, and embedded into the ground on which she now stood.
“She did have a happy ending,” she said, her eyes watering. “We both did.”
Theo put his arm around Annie. Together, they stood above the grave of Exodus and Samantha Freeman.
“Isn’t it amazing how your mother just knew about Moses Marks?” said Theo. “It’s something she learned so long ago and yet she just held onto it.”
“I can’t believe you put all of this together. You remembered their grave.” She touched Exodus Freeman’s book. “You knew how to find this in your mother’s study. She must have an incredible collection of books.”
“Yes. She does.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Everyday. I wish she was here. This was her book. She would have loved trying to find Samantha Weston. If she had been here we would have figured all of this out a lot sooner.”
“But then you and I wouldn’t be standing here right now. So I guess I have her to thank.”
Theo nodded and they embraced, both hopeful, both hoping.
“Theo?”
“Yes, Annie.”
“When we were looking for Samantha Weston and it was getting hard, you said you just wanted to know that some people can be found.”
“Yes.”
“Well, if we can track a journey like Samantha Weston’s, maybe our next goal is to find your mother.”
Theo leaned back. “What?”
“If we’ve proven anything, it’s that no one disappears forever. They can always be found. I think if you and I were to put our minds to it we’d come up with something.”
“I have to admit, I’ve been thinking the same thing. But Annie, you’re finishing high school soon. And you’ve only just got your freedom. Isn’t there something else you’re supposed to do? Or anything else you actually want to do?”
Annie shook her head and smiled.
“You really want to do this?” he said. “For me?”
Annie nodded.
Theo’s eyes began to water. She kissed the tears as they fell from his eyes, then hooked her arm through his.
“Come on,” she said. “We’ve got some work to do.”
The author would like to thank:
Yvonne Barlow – for her patience and insight.
Seth Fishman – for believing.
Dan Gunderman – for the ethics.
Erica Kennedy, Sam Korvin and Pat Trebe – angels in training.
Katya Batchelor, James Bishop, Gillian Buchanan, Clive Lonie, John McBrien and Chris Walshaw – for reading, for listening, and for making this a better book at every turn.
Alison Packer – for going above and beyond.
My husband, David – for making everything possible.
About the Author
Gayle O’Brien grew up in rural Massachusetts. After studying at Sarah Lawrence College and Oxford University, she was a youth organizer, health-care advocate, abuse manager, and part-time actress. She moved to London in 1999 and became a copywriter, which led to stints in Finland, Italy and the Netherlands. She has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of East Anglia and now lives in Kent with her dear British hubby and their two children. Underground is her first novel.
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