Good Fortune (9781416998631)

by Carter, Noni

  “Sarah, you still gotta run.”

  I turned my head slightly to the side. “Now, you the one tellin’ me to run. Guess that mean I ain’t got no choice.” John closed his eyes slowly and then dragged them back open, and I saw a determined look in them.

  “That’s right. Daniel an’ Tucker know clearly what to do; we bin meetin’ at diff’rent places talkin’ ’bout it, gettin’ information from free folks Tucker knows. We was careful ’bout it all, more careful than you’d think.

  “Your brother gonna tell you what you gotta know, what we’s all learned ’bout . . . ’bout stayin’ alive. So if fate has it that you left alone, you gonna know ’xactly what to do. And as fo’ me, well, I figure I’ma run jus’ as soon as I’m healed up an’ things go back to normal after y’all run.”

  I nodded. Daniel and I had planned to meet that night near the broken-down cabin where they first planned the escape.

  John continued. “But I got some things to tell you anyway, things I want you to know.”

  I sat and listened closely to John’s quiet words. He shared, mostly, basic facts on how to survive the winter weather and how to stay moving in the right direction.

  When he was done, I took out the pillow to give to him.

  “I have somethin’ fo’ you, John, but you cain’t have it till you promise me somethin’.”

  “An’ what’s that?” he asked.

  “You ’member that sermon you gave yesterday?” He nodded.

  “You called me your Missus then. I was listenin’—I heard you. Said I was graced wit the wings of an angel. Well, you got to promise me you’ll heal yourself up quick, ’cause you the one wit them angel wings.” I touched his neck softly. “But can’t no angel wings grow on an unhealed back. I say God’s my masta, but you the beauty that sparks this feelin’ in my soul. I’m gonna reach freedom, I tell you. But I need your promise before I go.”

  He chuckled, but I raised my eyebrows. “That’s a promise, then?”

  “Sho’ is, now what you gotta show me?” I’d snuck him the pillow I made for him. He took it slowly, surprise showing on his face.

  “What you think? You like it?” I asked him after he made no response.

  “Don’t know if I like the pillow betta or my name sewn on the front. Sarah, you can read!” he said, as if learning that information for the first time. “You know how good that make me feel?” But his whispers of gratitude and affection brought another stream of tears running down my face.

  When would I see that face again?

  John looked over at me and, wiping my eyes with his thumb, spoke in a soothing tone. “Sarah, listen, you gotta be strong. That’s important or you ain’t gonna make it.”

  “Is holdin’ everything inside bein’ strong?” I asked him, my voice more critical than I meant for it to be. He bit his lower lip.

  “For some people, I guess it is.”

  “You ain’t gotta hold everything in, John, not with me. I ain’t fooled. You runnin’ was the freedom that you wanted.”

  “No, Sarah, listen to me. Runnin’ ain’t freedom. Runnin’ is puttin’ your life in danger’s hands. Runnin’ takes you to freedom,” he said, lecturing, as he loved to do.

  “An’ either way,” he continued, “reachin’ the freedom land’s only half of my freedom.”

  “What’s the otha half?” I asked, puzzled. He pulled on my earlobe playfully.

  “Freedom an’ you; freedom wit you,” he said, as if that fact was as apparent as night and day. I sighed. Any other day, my heart would melt and my eyes would glisten. But not today. Today I felt worse with every word he spoke.

  “You smart, smarter than most who let their smarts hide behind fear; but you gotta be strong, real strong.”

  “But, John, what if I stayed here an’ . . .” The funny look he gave me cut sharply into my words.

  “I know it wa’n’t long ago I was tellin’ you that same thing, but I cain’t even think of you not runnin’. You told me yourself that you wouldn’t let Masta Jeffrey come near you again.” The firmness of his voice made it clear he wasn’t changing his mind this time.

  “You told me constantly that the thing you wanted most was freedom. You told me that you would take two wings and fly to freedom. Even if you did stay, I wouldn’t let that devil touch you,” he said, lowering his voice. “Like I said befo’, I’d kill him first.” His statement buzzed through my ears like a warning.

  “But, John, he wouldn’t, ’cause we could . . .” His heavy, unyielding gaze silenced me.

  “Education. How you spell that?” He asked. I crossed my arms.

  “We talkin’ ’bout runnin’, John, don’t go an’ change—”

  “Sarah,” he said calmly, “how you spell it?” I spelled it for him.

  “Freedom. How you spell that?” I spelled out freedom for him too.

  “Love. Spell it.” I spelled it out slowly, lingering on each of the four letters. A true smile lit up his face.

  “An’ you can write these things, too, you told me.”

  I nodded.

  “Can you write a book ’bout those things?”

  I smiled. “Not yet, John.”

  “Well, how you eva gonna do that? How you eva gonna teach folk like me if you don’t get yo’self to freedom?”

  I sighed and let his words hang in the air. I tried to let them pass with the moment, but they seemed to have awakened something deep inside that had been asleep for a long time. I ran his words through my mind once more.

  How you eva gonna teach folk . . .

  It hardly seemed appropriate and I tried to wipe away the strange thought, but a small smile came to my lips as I wondered if I’d ever be educated well enough to actually teach other folks.

  “So, now, what you got to say, Miss Sarah?” I looked up at him, thanking him with my gaze in response. I brought a hand to his head and patiently and slowly wiped away his sweat, his tears. I cleared my mind of all else, for I knew that our farewell would be a permanent good-bye.

  John heard my thoughts. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to him.

  “John, I . . .” He shook his head, stopping me midsentence. Despite the anguish I knew he was suffering both physically and emotionally, he enveloped me, as though he could squeeze out all our pain. I could feel his bare chest moving slowly up and down and his heart beating. I don’t know how long he hugged me, but I wished it could have lasted forever.

  Softly, he said, “I’ll see you again, Sarah, I promise.” It sounded good, so sincere, and his eyes held nothing but truth. But disappointment wasn’t an option for me: I’d had enough of it. So I let that statement pass through one ear and out the other. But if I listened, I could hear his words banishing all the fear inside of me with that one simple promise.

  “I ain’t no slave.”

  CHAPTER

  18

  MARY KNEELED, HER MOTHERLY FIGURE STOOPING LOW AS SHE prayed, beckoning God onto our paths. Like her figure, my hands trembled slightly as I listened to her pray. Beneath her words, the prospect of freedom rang loud. She prayed hard to our God, asking that he not abandon us as we fled, that he carry us safely along on our journey to freedom, wherever freedom was.

  Two quick days had passed since Christmas, and that evening burned fresh in my mind. Masta had given us the period from Christmas Eve to New Year’s off, as was normal for each year. The watch on slave row had lessened considerably; John’s punishment proclaimed itself in the air forcefully enough to stop any breaking of the plantation rules.

  But nothing would stop our escape that night.

  Mary stood as she finished her last plea to God with hands raised toward the heavens, and embraced Daniel and me in hugs. We all wept as she smothered us with an extra layer of love, the best form of protection she knew.

  Mary stepped back and turned to me. “I almost fo’got,” she mumbled as she brushed tears away. Out of her pocket pouch Mary pulled a tiny bundle of material: a small quilt she had made from scraps of various
colors and patterns, saved from the making of Missus’s clothes. On it, Mary had sewn a very detailed picture of a woman and a child holding hands. She placed it in my waiting hands, and I ran my thumb over the design.

  “When you find time to do this?” I asked her, trying to force a smile to my lips.

  “Don’t you worry ’bout that. You got it in yo’ hands—that’s what’s impo’tant.” With anxiety eating at every part of me, and nervousness racing through my blood, it was hard to hold back any of my emotions. I threw my arms around Mary’s neck in appreciation. She patted my back and then turned to Daniel.

  “Daniel.” She said his name softly. I saw Daniel’s eyes creep up to his mother’s face. A look passed between them, a look only a child could summon up on parting with his mother, and she with him.

  “Mama, ain’t no person could touch my heart like you done.”

  She frowned, fighting with her feelings.

  “Chile, you don’t call me Mama fo’ nothin’.”

  A terrifying thought sprang to the front of my mind. “What if Masta come fo’ you, Mary?”

  She turned her untroubled eyes toward me. “Sarah, all y’all’s gotsta worry ’bout is gettin’ safely away. Done talked ’bout that wit yo’ brother. Y’all don’t worry ’bout me, I tell ya. Ain’t no whip gonna strike my back. I bin wit that family a long time! I’se know what to say an’ what to do. Jus’ like when Isaac up’n ran . . .” She stopped for a moment and cradled her arms. “Jus’ you don’t worry. I’ll be all right.” She brought her lips to my forehead and kissed me gently.

  “Mary, you knows you should be comin’ wit us,” Daniel said as I opened my sack to finger all the items once more, to make sure I was prepared.

  “Shh, hush that talk! Ain’ comin’ witchya. You knows that. But go on, reach freedom, my chillen. And when y’all do, tell me, I’ll hear you.” I turned toward Daniel, and our eyes met. I dropped mine quickly, remembering our conversation about Mary earlier that day.

  “Daniel, she say she don’t wanna go. Can’t make her go.”

  “Got an idea jus’ in case she change her mind. John’s gonna run soon’s he’s betta an’ things settle a bit. Tole me he would take her with him.”

  “But Daniel, you sound so sure she gonna change her mind.”

  “Think she gonna make the best choice she can.”

  The same conversation must have been running through Daniel’s mind, because he turned to Mary again and said, “Want you ta still think ’bout comin’ when John gets away.”

  “Daniel,” she said softly, reaching up to place her hand on Daniel’s cheek. “Ain’ my place. My place is here. I ain’ no runnin’ person. This ain’ no heaven, but it ain’ so bad fo’ me. I’se used to it—only thing I known.” It seemed as if Daniel was struggling to bury his worry as Mary nodded firmly and embraced us once more.

  “Y’all take care of yourselves, now, you hear? Don’t get caught. I couldn’t stand all that.” She sniffled. “Y’all don’t let me slip from your thoughts, hear?”

  “’Course not, Mama!” Daniel and I responded. As we stood around in silence, waiting for our cue to sneak away, I gasped and ran to the loose floorboard under my pallet, remembering the pillows I had sewn for the two of them.

  “Got these fo’ y’all!” I said with excitement, watching Mary take hers and squeeze it to her heart. I watched Daniel closely.

  “Sarah . . . Sarah, you can read? How long you bin able to do this?” he asked me, slipping his small pillow into his sack, his eyes filled with curiosity.

  But I had no chance to explain. A soft hoot outside the door drained every thought from our minds and every word from our lips.

  My heart leaped into my throat as I gazed back at Mary one last time. The tension in me caught the words I tried to say to her.

  She must have heard it in the air anyway, for she whispered back, “Love y’all.”

  The shutting door echoed in my ears. We crept away into the night.

  CHAPTER

  19

  WE STARTED OUR JOURNEY WHEN THE FULL MOON WAS BRIGHT and shining high in the sky. I had never been so afraid in my life. The more we ran, however, and the quicker our pace became, the more my fear grew into determination.

  The trees grew thicker as we ran, and occasionally we had to slow a bit to find paths around wet areas or small lakes. We were running from Tennessee to Ohio. There were no strict plans after that. Our first destination, however, was the river.

  The air was a bit chilly, but my mind, exhausted from running over Daniel’s instructions, was soon distracted by the unfamiliar, scary sounds in the woods. I jumped at the noises, envisioning slave dogs and patrol groups with pistols searching for us. In truth, unless Masta Jeffrey came seeking me out sooner than I expected, I figured we had at least a few days’ worth of time before Masta realized we were gone. But when the holiday elapsed, the true danger would begin.

  I imagined, sometimes, that I saw John’s dark body fleeing next to me. I drew on the image for a sense of security. A few times, I lost sight of Daniel’s or Tucker’s silhouettes. Frightened, I’d softly call out their names. I knew where I was headed: the landmarks and the signs nature offered helped guide the way. But I didn’t want to separate from them.

  As he also had other times that night, Daniel appeared by my side like an answered prayer. The sack, strapped to his back, bounced up and down as he neared me. Hidden inside it, as in mine, was some food, three gourds of water, his few belongings, and extra clothing. Mary had lined the clothes we had been given with a warmer layer of material. Each of us had shoes on our feet and a hat pulled low over our heads.

  “I’m all right,” I told him, but the words were half a lie. My feet, squeezed tightly into my shoes, had begun to ache after a few hours of running and creeping through the woods. My face had been scratched by tree limbs and sticks. I was frightened of the shadows that hung around us, and already discouraged. Perhaps the idea that we had escaped hadn’t quite settled in my spirit yet.

  We pushed on.

  The sun broke that first morning long after I had hoped it would. We had run for hours on end, with only a few rest breaks for water. The anxiousness that had built up in me that night settled into a weariness I felt in my body. My clothes were damp from the midnight frost.

  We found a resting place and tried to drift off to sleep so we would have the energy to run the next day. But our bodies had been so accustomed to working during the daylight hours that, instead of sleeping, we crouched in the shadows and spent many hours staring fearfully out into the daylight. I dozed off a few times, as did the others, but it took a few periods of rest to get used to the pattern.

  Night came once more, and we fled again with haste. But by early morning, before the sun came out, my body had all but given out. We sought, and soon found, a small cave nearly hidden by some underbrush that could just hide us all. We filed in, and I sat back against the rock with a long yawn. Tucker looked over at me, his eyes revealing his exhaustion.

  “You all right?”

  I nodded, grateful for his comforting presence. His eyes remained on me, examining me to see if what I had said was the truth. Finally, he reached over and looked at my thumb, which I’d cut when I had fallen. Daniel was pulling out of his sack the last pinch of the first corn cake Mary had prepared for him.

  “Hand all bloody-like.” Tucker said.

  I shrugged loosely. “Said I’m all right.”

  Disregarding my words, Tucker ripped some cloth from his shirt and tied it around my finger. I clenched my teeth and looked up at him appreciatively.

  “We should be at that riva soon enough. Gots a lil’ ways mo’ to go, but if we all rest good an’ long, then we’s can make it befo’ daylight tomorrow.” I nodded at Tucker as my brother settled down next to me. He put a piece of corn cake in my hand, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

  We had run for two nights without trouble, and I grew calmer and a little more confident as I shut my eyes that
morning. All of a sudden, a strange feeling struck me. I’m running to freedom! A small smile drifted to my lips. We had escaped and were headed for freedom! I saw in the back of my mind Masta Jeffrey’s face distorting as he wondered why his “plaything” had run away. Then another thought came, one I had tried to suppress. I imagined John lying on his pallet, praying hard for us. I returned the prayer.

  Sleep was waiting for me this time, and I fell into its arms readily. Exhaustion won out over fear, but the three of us slept fitfully. If I had known that this would be the last time the three of us would be together as we were, maybe I would have savored sleep more. But I didn’t know.

  CHAPTER

  20

  NIGHTTIME FOUND US WITH THE STRENGTH TO MOVE ON. WE dashed out into the starless and foggy night in silence, reminding each other to stay together. All too soon, I was stumbling along, sore and nearly breathless, not yet used to so much nighttime exertion. I shook off what I could, however, since we had barely begun.

  After hours of running, we stopped for a few minutes to catch our breath and to feed our grumbling stomachs.

  Daniel tried to lift my spirits. “Sarah, when we’s get to that riva, an’ ride ova on that skiff, we ain’ gotta run so much. Can walk a lil’ mo’.”

  “You tole me already, Daniel,” I said, pulling my aching foot out of my shoe to rub it, “but I don’t mind runnin’. It’s takin’ us to freedom!” Daniel’s red eyes didn’t light up at the word. Instead, he glanced hesitantly behind him, over to Tucker, who was leaning against a tree sipping his water, and then back at me again.

  “Dunno if Masta gonna send afta us or not. Figure he will, but cain’t say if they already found us out or not.” I looked down at the ground, trying hard not to think of what he was saying, and busied my mind with putting my shoe back on.

  “Sarah,” he said, looking back over at me, “if we—”