“John, are we going to town today? You can meet Mrs. Lykes. John, can we go down by the spring to get flowers for Momma? John, will you tell me a story?”
He wanted to pick her up and go running over the hills, go to the library and read her stories. To see her face light up as she heard the exciting tales. He wanted to hear her sweet giggle when she'd picked a beautiful bunch of flowers or caught a butterfly. Yet, with Nathan's sarcastic glares, he couldn't... that would give him ammunition for more hurtful remarks. “Not right now, sweetie. I've got work to do,” he'd answer her.
As they all sat eating supper, John noticed Sarah having trouble so he started cutting her meat.
“Can't she even eat on her own? She's seven years old for crying out loud!” Nathan snarled. So John let it go. He handed Sarah her fork and knife.
“Sure she can eat on her own... she's a big girl.” John winked at her. Sarah took her knife and fork and wrapped her fists around them and started to cut her meat, but she slipped and the plate fell to the floor. Sarah started crying.
“Uh oh... ” John smiled. “It's all right, Sarah, don't cry.”
“No, it ain't all right! She wastes food all the time. She's stupid and careless!”
“It was just an accident, Nathan.” John got up to clean the mess while his mother went to get Sarah another plate.
“I'd make her eat what she wasted on the floor. Maybe she wouldn't be so careless next time!”
“What is your problem, Nathan? You're acting like a total ass!”
“You're my problem and so is that careless little shadow witch savage of yours!”
“Shut up Nathan... just shut up.”
“Why? What are you going to do about it, pansy?”
“Boys, I want both of you to be quiet,” Daniel warned. John sat quietly but Nathan kept on goading.
“Just like I thought... you ain't going to do anything. You're too much of a field pansy.”
“May I be excused, Poppa? I'd like to go for a walk.” John stood from the table.
“Can I come too?” Sarah eagerly hopped up.
“You're still eating, sweetie. I won't be gone long.”
“But I'm not hungry... I want to come with you.”
“You'd better get back here and eat your food after momma fixed you another plate!” Nathan snorted. “I don't care who you think you are, you can't waste food like this!”
“Nathan, is there any way you could let Momma and Poppa tend to her?”
“Is there any way you could be anything but a field pansy?” Nathan smarted back.
Suddenly, that was one too many slights. Something inside John snapped. He forgot about everyone and everything as he flew into Nathan like a madman. He let his temper soar, let all the anger and pent up emotions out as he pounded into Nathan over and over.
“Stop... you'll kill him! Please stop!” John heard Marion screaming. He looked and saw the terror in her face as she clutched at her heart and cried out. He looked up and saw Daniel standing over him trying to pull him off Nathan. He saw his brother's bloodied face and he couldn't believe he'd done this, that he'd exposed his family to such horror! He had done the unthinkable. He'd broken his promise to Agnes! He stood and backed away slowly. “I— I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!” He shook his head.
That evening he packed his bags.
“John, you said you were home for good.” Sarah's voice trembled and her bottom lip quivered.
“Sarah, I don't belong here. I know that now. My life is somewhere else.” He hugged her then looked at her long, wanting to engrave every part of her face in his memory. He knew he was not coming back for a long time now. This leaving was different than the first. Saying goodbye was even harder this time because he knew what awaited him. He deserved it. He deserved to live alone in a bleak little room with rats. He'd done the unthinkable and he'd do his penance. He would have to scrape by for a while, but he'd make it somehow. Someway, he'd make money and a better life for himself and for his family away from here. Away from Nathan and the possibility of ever breaking his promise to Agnes again. I'm sorry Aggie, I tried. I just can't stand Nathan. I'll make it up to you and to everyone. Tears blurred his vision as he walked away.
“Why couldn't I have kept my blasted temper!” John chastised himself as he shoved a large block of ice across the floor of the ice house. “Now here I am back in this hell hole. Stuck here with nothing and no one!” He'd returned to Rochester, to his old job, and to his old room. Mr. Bryant had been kind enough to hire him back.
John grasped the block of ice in the large, steel tongs and began lugging it up the steps. Outside he swung it into the back of the wagon where he covered it over with the tarp and hay.
The vibrant notes of a jaunty whistle glided on the air through slum's alley out back of Mr. Bryant's store. John looked from his chore and saw a slender young man strolling toward him. His hair was a copper color with more blonde than red. His stride was tall and proud. His was the posture of a gentleman or an aristocrat but his dress was that of a poor ice hauler, like John.
He smiled and held out his hand as he neared John. “Ye must be the fella’ Mr. Bryant was tellin’ me ‘bout. I'm Amos Douglas Mahaffey, me friends call me Doug, and I be pleased to be makin’ yer acquaintance, I am.” He spoke with an Irish accent.
“Likewise.” John clasped his hand. “I'm John DuVal.”
Doug explained that he was seventeen and fresh off the boat from Ireland. Over time he shared with John how he'd been sent here to marry his cousin, Gracie who was from Rochester. But he'd run out on her and been cut off from the family's money. Both sides were angry and refused to give him aid. So Doug, being a young man of principles and a bit strong willed as well, went to make his own way in the world. They could keep all their blasted money as far as he was concerned. He didn't love Gracie, but what was more important to Doug was the fact that Gracie didn't love him. And so it was Doug's idea to let them lay all the blame at his own feet for the failed wedding. He would see to it that Gracie would hold none of the blame for it. He could stand for the both of them. He wouldn't see her scramble in the mud like he was having to. He could take all they dished out, she couldn't and he would see to it that she wouldn't have to!
A fast friendship was formed between Doug and John. They liked each other immediately. Doug was bright, entertaining and full of life. His antics kept John laughing. Soon he told his new friend all about his family and his favorite little sister, Sarah.
Doug suggested that they should room together to save money. “No need in rentin’ two rooms when we could split the cost of it and save,” he offered in his funny accent. “I promise, I don't snore and for the savin’ of the money I don't care if you do.” He laughed.
“Well, I've never stayed awake to find out if I snore or not. But like you say, I wouldn't really care if you did. I would welcome the company and the saving. Besides, I'm used to a big family and it gets lonesome.”
“You wouldn't go a-snugglin’ me in your sleep, now would ya?”
“I won't if you won't.”
“'Tis a pledge then.” Doug spit into the palm of his hand and held it towards John who did the same; they clasped hands in agreement.
John sent his extra money home while Doug saved every cent for his coffer. Months passed with both boys pinching every penny for their dreams. Once in a while they'd go out for a drink and mingle with other people, but mostly it was work and save, work and save. “I'll be glad when the day is over,” John moaned as he and Doug traipsed toward the ice house. His head was pounding from the night before and each step felt like his brain was bashing against his skull.
“Why? So you can be goin’ on another rounder?” Doug cut his eyes at John. “Take me advice brother, John. Be doin’ a lot more of the minglin’ and a lot less of the drinkin'.”
“Professor, professor. What did I do before you came along?”
“Ye didn't do too well, else ye wouldn't have ended up with the likes of me!” They both lau
ghed as they entered the ice house.
John's eyes landed on a strange lump lying in the shadows near the far corner of the building. “What do you suppose that is?” John pointed.
“Looks like a dead man!” Doug's voice was barely auditable, fear had almost griped his throat completely shut.
They walked closer, neither really wanting to know what they would find. “Who are you?” John called out in an unsteady voice. There was no answer from the large mass that lay curled and still as death.
John and Doug stared down at the negro man lying on the floor. “I— is he dead?” Doug whispered.
John bent down and shook him. The man groaned. “He's alive!” John looked back at Doug.
“Just barely I'd say.”
“Are you sick? Can you stand up?” John shook him again.
“I is cold.” The man whispered.
“Here, let us help you up.” John and Doug lifted him onto his unsteady feet. “We'll take you to the doctor.”
“No, no doctor! There's nowhere for me to go. Anybody sees me I'm dead.”
“You're dead if you stay here too.”
“You gotta hide me! I need help. Don't let nobody see me.”
“What have you done?” John asked.
“Lord, I ran. I'm a runaway slave.”
“We'd better be gittin’ him to our place.” Doug began to hurry toward the door.
“Wait just a minute! How are we going to do this with no one seeing him?”
“I'll watch and when it's clear, bring him to the wagon, we'll cover ‘em with the straw and blankets.”
“If we get caught we'll be in a heck of a mess!”
“Then we best not be gittin’ caught.” Doug's eyes twinkled as he smiled his impish smile.
The next few days they doctored and fed the runaway named Sam until he was strong enough to go on his way. He left quietly in the middle of the night.
A few days later Doug came in all excited. “What has you so happy?” John asked. “You found a long cigarette butt on the sidewalk?” He laughed.
“Much better than that! I know a way for us both to make more money than we could ever hope to make haulin’ ice. But it's not without the risks.”
“What is it?” John sat up on the edge of his bed. “Tell me, I'll do it! I don't have a thing against more money.”
“Then stick with me and we'll go places! I'm not gonna be waitin’ for my life to start. I'm takin’ action!”
“What are you rambling about? It sounds like it's something bad. Is it against the law?” John frowned. “I don't mind having a piece of the pie, but I want to make sure it's on the up and up. A pie turned wrong side up makes an awful mess!”
“Well, ‘tis considered illegal, but in my opinion there's nothing’ wrong with it,” Doug smiled. “'Tis just a wee bit on the dangerous side. Now, there'll be those who won't agree with this sort of work. But I'll be agreein'!”
“Tell all, Doug! I want to know.”
“Are you tired of this rat infested hole-in-the-wall? If so, we could be out of here by tomorrow. There's this fine place where we can stay if we do some work for a certain man.”
“And just who is this man?”
“A Mr. Emerald Clyde Tyson. One of the richest men in Rochester. I'm tellin’ ya, he's rich as cream! While I was deliverin’ ice to his grand place he calls me to the side and asks about that runaway slave, Sam. I tried to deny that I'd be knowin’ him, but Tyson grinned and said ‘Sam's told me about you and your friend helpin’ him. We need men like you two in our cause'. He'd already takin’ a likin’ to me from when his wee one took sick with the fever and he credits my promptness in gettin’ the ice to her that made her well. So, he comes to me today offerin’ the both of us jobs makin’ ten times the money we get now. I tell you, ‘tis odd the way he makes on over us helpin’ a runaway slave and such a small thing as ice. ‘Twas just doin’ me job.”
“Could be he's thinkin’ you have healin’ powers,” John said in an exaggerated Irish accent. “Some sort of leprechaun magic that healed Sam and his girl. Or, maybe he just wants to corner you and get your pot of gold. John rolled as he laughed. “You do remind me of the little people I've read about over in your part of the world.”
“Very funny, John... I come to you with a chance to make better and you poke fun. You'll be laughin’ out the other end when I'm sittin’ in that grand house and you deliverin’ me some ice.”
John regained his composure and wiped the tears from his eyes. “All right, all right. I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. But what will we be doing?”
“From what I can understand, Mr. Tyson's a big supporter of the underground railroad here in Rochester. We'll be protecting and helping those in these underground operations.”
“We'll be helping slaves escape. Is that it?”
“Yeah, but nothin’ we ain't done before.”
“That's a good way for a man to get lynched!”
“Ye ain't a coward now, are ye?”
“Yes! If wanting to live makes me a coward, then that's what I am.”
“Well, that makes the both of us cowards then, but will you be in or out?”
“You know I'm in.”
Christmas came and John sent money and gifts home for everyone. No one had expected so many fine things and they were flabbergasted. Marion and Daniel counted the money over and over again. “This will fill the jar slap to the top, Daniel! We can afford that extra land you've had your eye on and a new plow too!”
“This can't be right. What is that boy doing? How can anyone have this much money to send home and live too? Lord, don't let him be breaking the law!”
“Oh, pooh on your ‘breaking the law’ mess! That boy has studied and is working hard. This is what an educated mind can get you, Dan.” Marion smiled. “I knew that boy was going to be something. He just had it in him.”
Nathan rolled his eyes as he unwrapped his first store-bought shirt. It came with a comb and candy cane in the pocket. Cora got a new pair of winter shoes with a green hair ribbon and a candy cane. The twins got twin dolls, pink hair ribbons and candy canes. Sarah got a new pair of winter shoes, a book, red satin hair ribbon, doll and candy cane.
Nathan took notice of all Sarah's gifts. “Well, I just wonder who John's favorite is here,” he snarled as he threw the shirt aside.
“You're not jealous now are you, Nathan?” Cora chided. “Could it be that Sarah is a little book worm like John? We all know she's always been his favorite. Why is that such a shock to you now?”
“Momma,” Nathan protested. “Do you think it's right for John to send Sarah all this stuff and almost leave the rest of us completely out?”
“Nathan, how can you say that after all the beautiful things John has sent to us all and gave us more money than we've managed to save in two years? He's a good son, and a wonderful brother to you all. You don't need to go stirring up trouble and counting gifts. You know what the good book says, ‘blessed are the peace makers.'”
“Sorry, I don't have no ‘educated mind’ to read that scripture, Momma. I'm just your plain old hard working idiot.”
“Nathan, you go to your room until you can calm that attitude. This is Christmas! And a very good one too. I'm not going to have you ruining it!”
Nathan stomped away, “He's such a good son,” he smirked under his breath. “Money means everything, huh?”
The next morning Daniel and Nathan were going hunting for Christmas meat and as usual Cora begged to go too, and just as usual, Daniel told her no as they walked out the door.
“Momma, can I at least go out and practice my slingshot?”
“Why must you be so boyish, Cora May? I thought I'd had a little girl when I had you. Where did that little girl go?” She rubbed Cora's cheek.
“Oh, Momma. I am a girl,” she pushed Marion's hand away, “but that doesn't mean I have to sit in the house all prim and proper, sewing and mending and cooking and cleaning. It's truly dull, and you said it yourself that I'm
of no use in the kitchen. Why can't I go climb a tree or shoot a slingshot? Sarah can help you, I just get in the way.”
“Fine enough, ‘girl child,’ go shoot your slingshot, but dress warm, it's cool out.” Marion smiled at her. “Be in before dinner!” she called as Cora ran out the door.
Shooting the slingshot wasn't at all what Cora had in mind. She was going to go find her poppa and Nathan. When she found them, Poppa wouldn't send her back home alone and they couldn't stop hunting to bring her back, so, they'd have to let her hunt too! She was jubilant at the thought of such a fool-proof scheme. Cora skipped off into the dense woods and they closed in behind her. She looked around and wondered which way they had gone and which way she should go to find them. She tried to remember the paths they had taken when Nathan had shown her their hunting place. But everything looked the same now. Cora roamed aimlessly through these strange dark woods. Even though she was terrified, she refused to cry. Cry babies couldn't be mighty hunters.
Daniel and Nathan sat quietly waiting for their prey. They heard the cracking of underbrush and prepared their guns. The leaves began to rustle. Nathan put his finger on the trigger and fired— but it was no deer that stepped through the brush and then fell, screaming. It was Cora! Daniel and Nathan both ran to her yelling, “What are you doing here! Oh Cora! Cora!” Daniel knelt down beside her and took her in his arms.
“Baby girl, why? Why didn't you stay at home?”
“I didn't mean it, Cora, I didn't mean it!” Nathan kept saying as Daniel looked her over.
“Hush, Nathan! Hush. It's her arm. She's going to be all right!” Daniel scooped Cora up and started toward the house. “You go get the doctor,” he yelled at Nathan. “I'm taking her home.”
Daniel plowed through the door with Cora in his arms.
“What is it?” Marion screamed. “What's happened to her?”
“Cora came after us. We thought she was a deer and Nathan got her in the arm. Why did you let her come after us, Marion? Why?”
“I didn't! She was supposed to be in the yard playing with her slingshot. I don't understand this? How did she get to where y'all were?”
By Way of the Rose Page 6