Only a few yards away stood a white girl wearing a heavy jacket, men’s pants, and big boots. She had the reddest hair Janie had ever seen. It was long and curly, and Janie saw that it was very matted. Janie had not heard this girl approach.
The two looked at each other for a moment. Then the redheaded girl spoke. “You’re not from ‘round here. Where you from?”
Janie was very startled by this. “Georgia,” she replied. “Where’s that?” said the white girl.
Not sure how to answer, Janie paused. “Down south,” she finally said.
“Who are you?”
On this journey, the Rubyhill Five had determined to keep information to a minimum when dealing with local whites and to keep on moving. They had not yet had anything frightening happen to them at the hands of locals, but it could happen. Janie told the redheaded girl her name and nothing else.
The girl spoke again. “You all alone?”
Janie paused, then shook her head.
The girl considered this. “My name’s Maydean. I live down the holler with my granddaddy. He’s drunk all the time and mean as a snake.” She stopped talking, as if she’d said too much. “You movin’ on through?”
Janie nodded. “Going north.”
“Where ‘bouts?”
“Chicago.”
“I heard of it,” the girl said. Janie saw that she was probably around her own age. The girl had the same shockingly blue eyes as that boy who had given them the rabbit. Janie noted wearily that it seemed like that had happened a long time ago.
The girl stepped forward. “What you doin’ here?”
“Looking for firewood.”
“I’ll help you.” And with that, the white girl tromped about in her pants and boots, briskly picking up small pieces of wood and stuffing them into her jacket pocket. Janie drew a little closer and noticed that the girl’s clothes were filthy. She could see that the girl was very thin and that the dirty clothes hung loosely on her.
After about ten minutes, the two had enough wood to build a fire and sustain it for boiling a pot of apples. Janie wondered what she should do now. Did she dare take this white girl back to her sleeping friends, especially when one of them was clearly sick?
Then it occurred to Janie that maybe this Maydean was the answer to the praying she’d been doing all night. The redhead seemed an unlikely answer to prayer, so Janie prayed one more thing silently: Lord?
Janie had the strongest impression that she should invite Maydean to eat with her and the others. Yet that was a very foolish thing to consider. Whites and blacks absolutely never, ever ate together. Janie could offer, but the girl would most likely refuse.
Nevertheless, Janie decided to invite her to share their food. “Maydean, are you hungry?”
Maydean’s face was unreadable. Then she nodded. It suddenly occurred to Janie that if Maydean lived with a drunken granddaddy, she might be hungry a lot of the time.
“Come on, then,” said Janie, and she led the redhead to the maple grove.
Rubyhill Plantation, Georgia
George and Anna never returned to Shannon Oaks. Instead, the hospitable Rubyhill residents took care of them for the next week and helped them plan their own trip to Chicago.
“You might as well stay here and get ready for your journey north,” Old Joe had reasoned with George and Anna. “You cain’t catch up with them others no-how. They all young and got a head start over you two. They say a black man live high as a white man up there in Chicago these days. I’ll tell you everything I know ‘bout getting up there, everything I told them children. You’ll find your girl up there. But it’s a mighty long way, and fella,”—Old Joe directed this to George—“I don’t know’s you should start it right away no-how.”
Cook led George and Anna to Aunty Mil’s now-empty cabin. The women had swept out the fireplace and the rest of the inside, and they’d dragged the rocker over to Old Joe’s place.
Anna and George followed the cook inside. “This here’s where my baby lived?” asked Anna.
“Yes,” the cook replied, “and she lived a good life here with old Aunty Mil. She was a good granny to your girl. Got her to sing in that sweet voice and everything.”
Tears ran down Anna’s face as she gripped George’s arm. How bittersweet it felt to be in Janie’s home. How close Anna felt to her daughter.
For the next week, Old Joe sat with George by the hour and instructed him on the details of the journey north the same way he had the Rubyhill Five. Anna listened to all the stories about Janie that anyone wanted to tell her. George slept and ate, ate and slept, slept and ate. The day he told Anna he felt restless, they both knew it was time to head north.
Just as they had a couple of weeks before, the former slaves of Rubyhill gave a big send-off to the travelers. They sent them on their way with plenty of carrying food and the sounds of singing.
George squeezed Anna’s hand as they walked down Rubyhill’s drive. Anna squeezed back.
CHAPTER 9
Trouble
Nathan, Lucy, and Aleta were up and moving about when Janie and Maydean approached the maple grove. Janie saw that Blue was no longer thrashing or talking deliriously. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, his head resting on a big maple root. Janie wondered if Blue’s deep sleep was a good thing or a bad thing.
Aleta stood quickly when she saw the two girls approach the grove. Janie could tell by Aleta’s face and posture that she was nervous to see a white person. Now Lucy and Nathan stood, too, looking very concerned.
Janie spoke up right away. “This here’s Maydean. She lives ‘round here. She helped me find kindling. I want to boil us some apples, and I asked her if she’s hungry.”
This was quite a long speech coming from quiet Janie. The others stared at her, then at Maydean, then back at Janie. Bringing a white person to their encampment was absolutely the last thing they would expect any one of them to do. It was just too dangerous.
Janie understood the concern all too well. They’d been fortunate on the road so far. Nobody had really bothered them. Aleta prayed aloud for protection daily. Once they had stumbled upon a water moccasin while drawing water at a river, but it swam away without incident.
Even so, they would rather happen upon creatures of the outdoors than white strangers any day. Nothing good could come of letting white locals know the Rubyhill Five were traveling through.
But Janie’s heart felt unusually light. Deep down, she knew it was good and right to offer this girl something to eat.
“Maydean, you any good at building fires?” she asked.
The white girl nodded and immediately started arranging kindling. Aleta continued to stare at Janie, a thousand unasked questions in her eyes. Lucy and Nathan stood together and watched.
Janie ignored Aleta’s probing looks. Instead she pulled out the boiling pot, took the paring knife, and began coring apples. She stopped when she realized that Maydean had stopped moving.
Maydean had just noticed the sleeping figure of Blue. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s got the fever,” said Janie.
“Fever, huh.” Maydean still didn’t move. “You got to get him indoors.”
Nobody responded to that. Obviously that was not a choice they had.
Maydeen looked at Janie, then Aleta, then back at Blue. “He can’t come to my house ‘cause my granddaddy hates your kind.” She said this without emotion, then went on: “But there’s a doctor over the hill apiece. He’d fix him. I can take you there.”
“A white doctor?” asked Janie.
Maydean nodded. “He ain’t like my granddaddy, though. Him and his wife used to hide your kind. I knew it, but I never told nobody.” She scratched her head. “They take in everybody. Feed ‘em good, too.”
Janie looked at Aleta. They certainly could use a doctor for Blue, and it sounded like this doctor might even treat black people. Maybe they should trust this girl all the way. Aleta shook her head and turned away.
But Janie fe
lt strongly that Maydean was an answer to prayer. She grabbed Aleta’s arm and pulled her away, out of earshot of the others.
“Aleta, we got to listen to her.”
“Janie, you crazy? What you thinking? She’s a white girl—and a mighty dirty one, at that.”
“What’s that got to do with anything? And I’m not crazy,” Janie insisted. “Were we crazy when we took that rabbit from that white boy back then?”
Aleta shook her head. “But he was just one white person, and not a hateful one at that. The more white folks get wind of us here, the more trouble we get. ‘Specially with one of us sick.”
“She knows a doctor—”
“A white doctor,” Aleta hissed, “and that ain’t gonna do us no good. You know that.”
Janie hissed right back. “If we don’t get help for Blue, he gonna die right here.”
Aleta’s face fell. “I fear that, too, little sis. But if bringing in a whole lotta white people puts y’all in danger, too …” Her voice trailed off.
Janie could see the full weight of responsibility resting squarely on Aleta’s shoulders. Together, Aleta and Blue could handle decisions for the five of them on this long, dangerous journey. Alone, it was a heavy load.
“Aleta,” Janie said gently, “listen to me. I prayed ‘bout this. I believe God sent this white girl to help us.” Aleta shook her head.
Janie continued. “Besides, she ain’t got nothing. Look how she is.
We got to share food with her. She even helped with the fire.”
“It’s not that,” Aleta said. “If she’ll sit and eat black folk’s food, she’s welcome to it. It’s pulling in more whites that’s got me nervous. No, little sis, we can’t do no more than feed this girl.”
Suddenly it started to snow. Hard. If they hadn’t had to live in it, this snowfall would have been pretty. But big, wet snowflakes were coming down fast and furiously. They made no sound.
There was, however, one sound that reached Janie and Aleta from the maple grove—the sound of deep, hard coughing.
But it wasn’t coming from Blue. Aleta and Janie looked at one another.
It was Lucy.
Kentucky
In a dry, warm barn in the middle of Kentucky, George and Anna took cover from a morning rainstorm. The sounds of rain on the rooftop made them drowsy, and before long, both of them snuggled down into the hay and fell asleep.
Janie came to Anna in a dream. Janie was still five years old. She looked into Anna’s face with those huge, cinnamon-brown eyes of hers, and she began to sing. Oh, what a beautiful sound, thought Anna. Sweet and high-pitched like a bird’s.
Suddenly a hawk swooped down and snatched the little girl away and up into the sky. Anna woke with a start. Trembling, she shook George awake.
“We got to pray right now. Janie’s in trouble.”
Without any question, George rose up. The two knelt in the hay and prayed throughout the rest of the storm. By the time the rain stopped, Anna felt calm, and she and George continued north on their journey to find their daughter.
CHAPTER 10
Mrs. Hull’s Kitchen
Janie stood next to Maydean on the long front porch of a big, white farmhouse. She gazed around the farm itself. The many handsome barns were painted white, and the barnyards were so clean that to Janie they looked as if they’d been swept with a broom.
Most of the animals were apparently taking shelter from the storm, although a few horses stood outside with their backs to the driving snow. Janie hoped she could take shelter soon, too. Walking through this snowstorm had left the two girls cold and wet.
Maydean knocked on the front door of the farmhouse. After a moment, a white-haired woman opened it. She wore a black dress with a starched white collar and stood no taller than Janie.
The woman’s rosy face beamed. “Good morning, dear Maydean. Come in out of the weather!”
The door opened wide, and Maydean stepped in. Janie paused. She’d never in her life walked into a white person’s home through the front doorway.
The white woman smiled directly at Janie. “Come in, child, before thee catches thy death of cold.”
What a strange way she talks. Janie stepped inside and quickly took in her surroundings. A polished staircase on the right side of the hallway climbed straight up to the second floor. A banister curved around at the top. Downstairs, framed portraits hung all over the walls of the hall. An oil lamp caused shadows to dance over the images.
Indoors, Janie felt instantly warmer. Then a wave of guilt swept over her as she remembered the others huddling under their snow-covered blankets in the maple grove.
“This here’s Janie,” said Maydean.
The white woman took Janie’s cold hands and rubbed them in her own warm ones for a moment. This was even stranger to Janie. She had never in her life touched or been touched by a white person. “Oh, thee is so cold,” the woman said. “Come into the kitchen. There is hot food on the stove. Come.”
The two girls stomped the snow off their feet and onto a thick rug beside the door before following the woman straight down the central hallway. A closed door opened to a huge kitchen. The kitchen was even warmer than the hallway.
“Sit down, girls,” said the woman. The two girls pulled sturdy chairs away from a large oak table and sat. The woman looked directly at Janie. “I am Mrs. Hull, Janie. I am pleased to make thy acquaintance.”
Not knowing how to respond, Janie simply nodded then looked at the floor, her hands in her lap. She felt shy in such a new and strange situation.
Maydean got to the heart of the matter. “Janie’s people got caught in the snow in the maple grove on Uncle Willie’s farm, Mrs. Hull. They come from down south, and they’re headin’ north. Some took sick—coughing fits and fever. They got to get inside.”
Mrs. Hull looked instantly concerned. “How many?”
Maydean continued to speak for Janie. “Five all together, two of ‘em sick.”
“And how old is everyone, child?” Mrs. Hull spoke directly to Janie.
Janie cleared her throat. “Blue’s seventeen, ma’am, and he’s sick. The other sick one’s Lucy, and she’s ten. Nathan’s ten, too. I’m eleven, and Aleta’s seventeen.” She stopped talking.
“Nobody elderly, then, and no babies?” Mrs. Hull said.
Janie shook her head.
“My husband will help them, child, and thee must not worry. Young people have a good chance of pulling through sickness of all kinds, and I’m sure thy long journey and the good Lord have made thee strong.”
That sounded encouraging to Janie. Her toes were beginning to get warm. She could smell enticing odors in this kitchen. She looked around and spied chicken soup simmering on a back burner of a coal stove. The dregs of coffee were still warm and fragrant in a blue-speckled pot. Fresh baked bread sat on top of the sideboard. Janie’s stomach growled out loud.
Mrs. Hull heard the stomach noises, and she smiled at Janie. “Thee is hungry.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Janie said. She quickly added, “But the others are out there in the snow. I can’t eat when they can’t.” She stopped abruptly and looked down again. Had she been impolite? The words had just burst out of her.
But Mrs. Hull nodded vigorously. “Of course, child, I understand. I will fetch my husband immediately. That will take only a wee bit of time. While I do that, Maydean, please feed thyself and Janie, and please wrap food to take to the others. Get thy stomachs full and thy bodies warm so that both of thee are fortified for the outside.”
Maydean hopped up and began fetching dishes from the sideboard. Janie surmised that perhaps this cozy, orderly farmhouse was Maydean’s safe place from her drunken granddaddy. Janie felt better for Maydean.
She felt better about her own situation, too. It looked like help was surely on its way. Thank You, Lord.
Mrs. Hull pulled on a heavy black cloak and wool bonnet. Once more, she spoke to Janie directly. “Child,” she said kindly, “thee must not fret. My husban
d is an excellent physician and will help the sick ones. Until I locate him in the barns, of course, we cannot leave. In the meantime, thee must take nourishment while I am gone. That is best for all concerned. Does thee understand?”
Janie nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Mrs. Hull left the room, and soon they heard the back door open and close. A draft of cold flashed through the warm kitchen.
Maydean ladled up a steaming bowl of soup and placed it with a spoon in front of Janie. “Eat,” she said. She moved to the sideboard and cut two thick slices of bread and placed them right on the table next to the soup. Then she helped herself to the soup pot.
Janie waited. Should she eat—or not? The others back in the maple grove were cold and wet and hungry….
“Eat, Janie,” Maydean said again, as if reading her mind. “Mrs. Hull’s right. We got to get warmed up while we wait. Then we can do better outside.”
Janie nodded. She said a silent grace, picked up her spoon, and dug in.
CHAPTER 11
To the Rescue
Mrs. Hull was true to her word. By the time Janie had devoured her bowl of soup and a slice of bread with butter, Mrs. Hull had returned with her husband in tow.
“Janie, this is Dr. Hull.” A short man with twinkling eyes nodded at Janie and Maydean. He was a powerfully built man in spite of his white hair, and he wore good wool clothing. Janie noted that his black clothes were clean, even though he’d just come in from farm work. He carried the good odor of fresh air.
Dr. Hull fished a large black valise out from under a worktable. “Virginia, dear, I’ll hook up the team and bring the sleigh around front. Please give the young ladies as many blankets as they can carry.”
“Yes, Otto,” Mrs. Hull said, and she hurried into the room off the kitchen while the doctor headed for the back door.
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