American Rebirth

by Norma Jean Lutz

  Now Anna could see the man better. And—oh, could it be? Did he have skin the color of strong coffee with just a touch of milk stirred in?

  The thin man’s face broke out into a wide smile. “Anna?”

  Anna’s knees gave way, and she sank gently to the ground. It was George. Alive. He had come back to her, just as he promised he would.

  George ran and dropped to the ground beside his wife, cradling her in his arms. Seven long years were over in one moment as both of them sobbed openly with joy.

  CHAPTER 7

  The Rubyhill Five

  On the third day of the journey north, clouds filled up the sky. Soon enough, a cold rain poured on the little band from Rubyhill. Seems like every step we take north, things get colder, Janie thought. Even rain.

  The plan was to reach Chicago before winter set in. That was a distance that should take them about forty days on foot, according to Old Joe. They would move north by northwest through Georgia, then into Tennessee, Kentucky, and Indiana. Old Joe pointed out that Chicago “sits right on top of Indiana.” Janie didn’t quite understand what that meant, and Blue explained that it meant it was at the northern point of Indiana.

  Old Joe sat them down for a talk the day before they left. He warned them that there could be snow once they hit Indiana. “You might have to sit out a snowstorm but not too much, leastways not till after the first of the year. Remember, winter moves south faster than you can walk north. You got to keep moving and get to Chicago long before Christmas.”

  He warned them that once they got into Chicago, the cold wind would be brutal. “You young’uns ain’t got the blood for that now, but you will by the next winter. The blood thickens up after you been in the cold awhile. First winter, though, y’all gonna feel the chill right down to your bones ‘cause y’all from Georgia. But you remember Old Joe said it’s gonna get better.”

  That had not sounded at all appealing to Janie. Already on this trip, she was feeling colder at night than she remembered ever being before.

  The Rubyhill Five had skirted Atlanta and now found themselves close to Tennessee on this rainy third day of travel. They filed silently through an open pasture bordered by wooded hills and boulders. As they neared the tree line, Aleta spoke up. “We got to put off walking for now, Blue,” she said. “Won’t do no good to take sick in this wet cold.”

  Blue nodded and stopped in his tracks. Janie marveled at what a good team those two made. One made a suggestion; the other either agreed or reasoned out something else. Janie, Nathan, and Lucy rarely needed to express their opinions under the leadership of this almost adult teamwork. They just let themselves be led by Aleta and Blue.

  Aleta spied a huge boulder with an overhang of rock. The grass under it was long and looked fairly dry. “Let’s try that over there.”

  The five moved as one to duck under the rocky overhang. They slid down onto the grass together. “Move in closer,” said Aleta. They huddled against one another until the rain could reach only their bare toes.

  “Sure wish I’da thought to bring some kinda oilcloth for this rain,” groused Blue. “All I thought about was snow.”

  “All I thought about was food,” said Aleta. They both chuckled at that, and Nathan and Lucy giggled right along. Janie felt grateful that the group tended to stay in such high spirits even in the face of difficulties.

  The route Old Joe had mapped out for them was working out so far. They were covering probably close to twenty miles each day, just as Joe thought they might. Over and over he warned them they should keep moving while both good weather and food lasted. The food was holding out so far, but they would have to start foraging for more in a couple of days.

  The quiet chatter stopped eventually, and the youths leaned against each other for about half an hour. Janie felt herself getting sleepy in the gentle sounds of the rain. Her head dropped on Aleta’s shoulder.

  “Listen,” she heard Nathan whisper.

  It was the sound of thrashing grass. Someone or something was out there in the rain. Quite a lot of someone or something, it sounded like.

  Aleta turned to Blue. “Deer?” she whispered anxiously.

  Blue shook his head. “Men,” he whispered back.

  The five ex-slaves knew that avoiding contact with white people on this trip would be good. Yes, blacks were free now. But not all white folks were happy about that.

  Janie had often heard the elders back at Rubyhill talk about the state of affairs these days. Rubyhill wasn’t the only place where people had to scrape to get food to eat, they reported. Nobody fared all that well anywhere in the South, and some white people blamed black people for the hardships. Those white people sometimes took the law into their own hands to hurt black people. The elders had said that the law of the land had never protected blacks before, and there was still no reason to expect it to. “Maybe some day, Lord willing,” Janie had heard Old Joe say. “But that day ain’t here yet.”

  So the band of five moved fairly quietly most of the time, and they stayed away from main roads and houses. Besides, they didn’t want to get accused of trespassing on anyone’s land.

  The thrashing came closer. Then voices. Deep male voices. Janie felt afraid. She closed her eyes and touched the outline of the pewter cross beneath her dress. Please protect us, Jesus….

  “You head on home, buddy, and start on those chores,” she heard a man say. “We’ll be along shortly.”

  A younger voice replied, “Yes, sir.”

  The thrashing moved away. Janie was so relieved she thought she’d faint. Instead, she opened her eyes and found herself looking straight up into the face of a tall white boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen. She could feel everyone else look up, too. The boy carried a rifle.

  Seeing them gave him a start, and he stared back, mouth open. For a long while, nobody spoke. They could hear the voices of the other men fade into the distance, but nobody moved or said a word.

  Janie took in the young man’s appearance. Even in her fear, she noticed that his clothes were wool. He wore boots and a red hat, and hanging off his belt was a very fat rabbit he’d apparently shot. The boy’s eyes were bright blue.

  It was as if everyone, black and white, was struck mute. When they could no longer hear the men in the distance, the white boy finally spoke. “Y’all hungry?”

  Nobody moved except Nathan. He nodded.

  The white boy untied the rabbit and threw it to Nathan, who reached up and caught it in the air. “Y’all have to skin it yerself,” the white boy said. Then he grinned, turned, and jogged off in the rain.

  Nathan stood up. He triumphantly held the rabbit up high. Rainwater dripped off it.

  “Well, I’ll be,” said Blue. “I’ll be.”

  “Nice white boy, sure enough, but we still trespassin’,” Aleta reminded him nervously. “We got to move on soon as this rain lets up.”

  So they did. Several miles later, the rain stopped completely. Blue spied a tobacco barn that appeared abandoned. “We’ll sleep here tonight,” he said.

  “We best build a supper fire elsewhere,” said Aleta.

  Blue nodded and took off walking. “Start skinnin’ that rabbit!” he called over his shoulder. “And find us some dry kindling, too! I’ll be back.”

  Aleta worked on the rabbit, and the others silently foraged for dry firewood. By the time Blue came back, they were ready to cook. Then Blue led them a quarter mile away to the place he’d scouted out for the supper fire.

  Aleta made an excellent rice stew with the rabbit. It was a welcome and rare hot meal for the weary travelers. By the time they’d trudged back to the tobacco barn, Janie thought she’d fall asleep on her feet.

  Stomachs full of hot food, all five young people fell fast asleep in their blankets.

  Shannon Oaks Plantation, Georgia

  Anna stirred honey into a pot of oats that hung in the fireplace. She turned to her husband. “I still got to fatten you up, mister.”

  George sat on the cabin floor and gri
nned. His eyes sparkled in the firelight. “No complaints, woman.”

  “That’s good,” Anna replied. She bent over the fire and began dropping mounds of dough into a flat skillet on top of the coals.

  George chuckled. “I been dreamin’ about them biscuits for seven years now.”

  Anna flashed a smile at her once-strong husband. His complexion looked better after four days of rest and food, but he was still so thin. He’d arrived at Shannon Oaks weak and not able to keep any food down for the first couple of days. Once he was able to digest Anna’s baked custard, he’d been improving ever since. Good thing he was still young. He would recover his strength.

  Anna’s gratitude at having George back could hardly be described. Her heartfelt prayers of thanksgiving were constant. She wondered what had happened in George’s life all these years, but there was no hurry to share difficult stories.

  Of course, they had right away talked about little Janie. George had understandably been stunned to hear his daughter was gone. Now he brought it up again. “I still can’t get over it, Anna. What these white folks thinkin’, sellin’ off a little girl like Janie?”

  Anna turned back to the fire and hung her head. The day her child had been taken from her was the most powerless day of Anna’s life.

  George reached over and grabbed his wife’s hand. “Listen here. You couldn’t do nothin’ about it,” he said. “You stayed strong like I asked.” George stroked Anna’s work-worn fingers. “Now I’ll be your strength,” he said. “We’ll find our girl.”

  Anna sighed. “No telling where she is now.”

  George considered this. “You say they took her to Rubyhill. She might still be there. If not, someone there will know something. Let’s you and me rest up a couple more days, and we’ll head out for Rubyhill.”

  Anna looked into George’s eyes. “You sure you up to it?” George nodded. “We got to find our girl.” “Yes, Lord help us,” said Anna.

  Three days later, George and Anna left Shannon Oaks. A kind network of former slaves living in a dozen plantations along the way directed them in their journey to Rubyhill. It was two counties away in unfamiliar territory.

  But along the way, each plantation’s slave quarters opened up to the couple and showed them the best hospitality. At every turn, a community fed them and gave them a place to stay for the night.

  By the time George and Anna reached Rubyhill three days later, they were anxious with anticipation and dread. Was little Janie here?

  They approached the main grounds of Rubyhill slowly, steering toward the slave quarters. It was always best for black people to avoid white people when approaching a strange plantation.

  “Don’t seem to be no whites ‘round here,” remarked George.

  Anna nodded. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

  Good smells wafted from the detached kitchen. As they drew closer, a heavyset woman stepped out and looked them over.

  “How you folks?” she said. She gave the couple a friendly, gap-toothed smile.

  Anna smiled back. George doffed his hat to the cook. “My name’s George, and this here’s my wife, Anna.” The women nodded to each other.

  George continued. “We’s looking for our little girl. She got sold from under us over at Shannon Oaks some six years ago. We heard she was brought over here.”

  “What’s her name?” asked the cook.

  “Her name’s Janie,” said Anna. “She’s goin’ on twelve years come Christmas—”

  “Janie?” The cook looked stunned. “Oh, honey, Janie just left here, not even a week ago.”

  Anna grabbed George’s arm. “What you mean?” she asked the cook.

  “Five of our young’uns took off north to get themselves work. You just missed your girl, honey.”

  Anna’s knees buckled. She felt George grab her up in his arms to keep her on her feet. She heard him say to the cook, “Ma’am, do you know where they’s headed?”

  “Chicago’s what was said,” the cook responded.

  Anna no longer heard the conversation. She simply sank to the ground.

  So close. So close, and so far.

  CHAPTER 8

  Maydean

  Janie was weary. Bone weary. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Surely they would stop and rest soon. Around thirty days had passed, and the Rubyhill Five had been on the road a long time—too long for Janie. It was late October, and she didn’t know how much longer she could take it. But they still had to get through the whole state of Indiana.

  The five young people had crossed the state line from Kentucky to Indiana just that morning. Every day they were closer to Chicago than they were the day before, but it seemed like every day they moved a little slower.

  Janie was getting worried. Days were so cold and nights even colder. They were running into brief snow squalls here and there. They had begun wearing the heavy coats they’d found in the Big House. They were even wearing shoes and socks, and although the shoes felt uncomfortable to feet unused to footwear, everybody’s feet stayed dry and warm.

  Today the Rubyhill Five experienced autumn in Indiana as they’d never experienced it in Georgia. Everywhere the maple trees were vibrant with color. Janie had never seen anything like it—leaves that were bright yellow and red and some kind of color in between. She’d gathered a few at first but had since let them flutter back to the ground. There were so many.

  But the thrill of all that beauty soon wore off. Janie was too cold and tired to care about nature’s beauty. She was more concerned about how difficult nature was making it for them to get to their destination.

  One of the biggest issues was food. Once again, Janie felt that constant, gnawing hunger. All the carrying food was gone, and foraging for food every day took time and energy. They worked hard for every bite they ate.

  Fortunately, apples were in season and plentiful along the way, but how they all longed for—and needed—a good hot meal. Maybe some chicken stew and biscuits, Janie thought as she trudged along. With boiled potatoes and carrots. Maybe some fried apple pie. Maybe …

  Janie stopped herself. This would do nothing but make her hungrier. She continued concentrating on taking each step.

  There was one more worrisome thing, the most worrisome thing of all. Blue was coughing. It had started a couple days ago, and it seemed like every hour the cough sounded deeper and rougher.

  Aleta fussed over him about it that morning. “Blue, that cough sounds evil. Let’s take a day off and let you get some strength.”

  Blue showed a rare display of anger. “What we supposed to do, then?” he snapped. “All of us lay down ‘til I get better? We ain’t got that kinda time, and we ain’t got nowhere to lay down. We got to keep going.”

  Aleta protested but soon said nothing more. Janie felt a little sick to her stomach to hear these two argue. She and Nathan and Lucy exchanged glances from time to time but remained quiet all morning.

  The morning stretched on until Aleta insisted they stop at a maple grove and look for food. Blue said nothing. Instead, he stepped off the path and sank down onto the thick roots of a large tree. Janie saw that he was shivering.

  As troubling as it was to see Blue this way, the three younger ones immediately circled out from the grove looking around for water and for something to eat. They left Blue with Aleta, who busied herself unpacking cookware and apples.

  Nathan found some field corn, the kind livestock ate, but it would be better than nothing. They stuffed ears of it in their pockets. Then Lucy found mushrooms. After they determined the mushrooms were safe—they knew which ones were poisonous—the three picked lots of them. They also found hickory nuts and a creek from which they drew water with their boiling pots.

  After an hour, they knew this would have to do. It wasn’t a lot, but they could eat and still keep walking. They headed back to the maple grove. As they neared, Janie heard Lucy gasp. Janie looked up. Blue was stretched out on the ground. Aleta had wrapped him in his blanket, and he w
as shivering violently.

  The three approached slowly. Aleta looked up and saw them. “Come help me keep this blanket on Blue. He’s shakin’ it right back off.”

  They all managed to get the blanket wrapped more tightly around Blue, who was indeed shaking terribly. Then Aleta had them all huddle around Blue to see if he could get warm enough to stop shivering. The five were used to huddling together by this point on the journey. But in this huddle, Janie could actually feel the feverish heat emanate from Blue.

  Janie touched the outline of the pewter cross under her clothes as she did so often these days and began to pray silently. Lord, help Blue. Help us all, Lord. We in trouble.

  They stayed together under the tree all afternoon. Nobody talked, and nobody ate. Blue began to moan in his fever. Aleta looked terribly frightened, though she tried not to appear so. Nobody asked the question they all had on their minds: What now?

  Dark came earlier every day this time of year, and it was fast approaching. Clearly there would be no more travel today. Still, nobody moved from huddling around Blue.

  Finally Aleta spoke. “Each of you, one at a time, go fetch your blankets and come on back. We gonna stay close together tonight. We gonna get some water down this boy, and then y’all need to drink and eat what you found, right here in the huddle.”

  So that’s what they did. Blue’s fever actually kept them all warm throughout the night, but it was not a comfort by any means. Blue eventually became delirious, talking nonsense and even laughing in his feverish state. Nobody slept well under the circumstances.

  Janie woke up with the cold morning sunlight touching her face. She looked around. The others still dozed, huddled up against Blue, who had finally fallen asleep. His breathing was loud and heavy.

  Janie gently extricated herself from the sleeping tangle of the Rubyhill Five. She didn’t want to wake anyone. But she was hungry. As she munched on mushrooms and hickory nuts from yesterday’s food search, she decided to build a fire for boiling apples.

  Moving quietly, Janie left the maple grove to search for kindling. At the edge of the noisy creek they’d found yesterday, she sensed she was not alone. She turned in a slow circle, her gaze darting about until she spied what she’d sensed was there.