By Way of the Rose

by Cynthia M. Ward

  Late that night, a thin slave girl, in a plain flour-sack dress came to his door. She was small, barely coming up to John's waist and her hair stood out on her head like a large frizzed knot. “Mr. Adams, sir.” She whispered. “I be Tad, Mr. Sims’ girl. I come to warn you ‘bout him.”

  “What about him?” John asked.

  “I heard him talking. He ain't knowed I heard him, but I did. You gots to get out of here, and you gots to get out of here soon! He going to get his friends and they is going to lynch you tonight. They gonna hang you from that bridge down yonder.”

  “Why would they do that? And just how do you know?” His heart raced.

  “Because they know you be that Adams fellow that they hates. They know you been bringing those papers all over the South and helping slaves to run away. They hate you, they do! I hear everything.”

  John quickly gathered his things with trembling hands. He felt like he was going to be sick. The little girl kept watching him with her large round saucer like eyes.

  Finally she spoke. “Sir, can I come with you?”

  John turned suddenly. “No, no, that's impossible!”

  “But I been waiting for a chance... I've been praying for a chance, and you be it. I know you be it!”

  “Don't be crazy, child! The winter is hard this year. I'm leaving on foot. You wouldn't last a minute out there, you're too little!”

  “I won't last a second if I stay here. He'll know I tipped you off and he'll be wanting to kill me, like he wants to kill you. But if you can live with yourself, knowing I died for you, you go on and leave without me, Mr. Adams, sir.” She shook her small head in disappointment.

  “You have anything you want to bring?” John asked her. The girl smiled big. Her dark lips showed a sharp contrast to her pearly white teeth. It seemed as if her entire face lit up.

  “No, Sir. I ain't gots nothing to take, ‘cept myself and what's on my back.”

  “No coat? Nothing warmer to wear?”

  “No, Sir. What you sees is all they is.”

  “Good Lord! Could you pick a worse time to want to light out, little Tad?”

  “This is my chance. God picked this time, not me.”

  John flung his coat off and wrapped her in it. The sleeves hung to her knees and the coat's hem brushed her ankles. “We'll fix it better later. There's no time to spare.” He grabbed his bag and Tad's hand and they left together, running through the cold night. The small girl could barely keep up with him, weighed down in his heavy coat. She tripped over it and landed on the ground. He grabbed her up and slung her on his back, like a sack of potatoes, never missing a step. He ran for what seemed like hours. Oh, how he longed to see the light of a safe house. He kept going with the child holding tightly to his shoulders. He felt his body wanting to quit. He was so cold. But he kept running with all his might, following the north star as he had told so many others to do. They had to get to safety soon or they'd both be goners. Suddenly, in the distance, John saw a flicker of light through the trees. Was it? Could it be a safe house? John dropped the child from his shoulders. “You wait here, little Tad. Understand?”

  “What you gonna to do? You can't leave me out here! I'll die of fright and freeze!”

  “I'm going to get us a place to stay for the night, I hope. Keep moving and don't stop. Jump up and down or something.”

  “What?” Tad looked puzzled.

  “It'll keep you from freezing. Just keep hopping.”

  “Yessir.” She shivered as she watched him go. She jumped up and down and twisted while the big coat flapped.

  John looked back and smiled at the sight. “Good job, little Tad, keep it up!” he whispered.

  “Hurry back! It's scary out here!” she whispered back.

  All of the lights inside the house were out. Everything was pitch dark, except for the light burning on the post in the yard. That was the signal of a safe house... that's what they'd always told the slaves to look for. John felt his insides tighten. He could only imagine the fear if he were a black man standing here. Not knowing for sure if this was a friendly house, or a trick, or someone had just left their light burning by accident. He knocked on the door and soon heard footsteps in the house. They walked slowly toward the door. John wanted to hurry them up so he pounded louder. “I'm coming!” A man's voice shouted. His steps were quicker. “Who's there?”

  “I'm looking for a safe house.” John called back. The door flung open. The man held his lamp up to see John.

  “But, you're not... ”

  “I know, I'm not a slave. But I'm in trouble just the same. Is this a safe house?” The man hesitated as though he was being tricked into saying something. But, he must have seen some of the desperation in John's face, because he seemed to relax a little.

  “Yes, this is a safe house, come in.” He motioned to John.

  “There's someone with me. A little Negro girl. I needed to check you out before I let her be seen.”

  “Very well, let's go get her.” He handed John a blanket. When they brought Tad in she was shivering violently. They sat her in front of a roaring fire with a cup of hot tea, still wrapped in John's large coat.

  “My hands is stinging, and my feets too!” Tad cried as the warmth began bringing the feeling back to her hands and feet that had been numbed by the cold.

  “It'll ease up in a minute.” John rubbed her hands quickly.

  “Here, you sit down and have a cup of tea, too,” the man told John. “You're about blue yourself, boy!”

  “I sure could use a cup, mister.” John held the cup with both hands to warm them.

  “You two sure did pick a fine time to leave, didn't you?” The man said as he sat in his large rocker.

  “We didn't pick the time, sir. Like little Tad said, it kind of picked us.” He winked at the little girl.

  “Care to tell me about it?”

  “Well, I was supposed to be lynched tonight and if it hadn't been for this little one here,” He motioned towards Tad, “I guess I would have been. She told me about the plot, and I brought her to keep her safe in case they knew it was her who told me.”

  “I see. And why were you going to be lynched?”

  “Because I'm Kyle Adams,” John confessed.

  The man's face brightened. “Mr. Adams! Oh gracious, I've heard so much about you! May I shake your hand?” He jumped from his chair and thrust his hand toward John.

  “Of course.” John offered his hand.

  “It's mighty nice to meet you; I can't believe you're in my home.”

  “Neither can I, sir. I thought we'd both die out there in that cold before we found you. What's your name?”

  “I'm Sam Frank.”

  “Mighty nice to meet you, Mr. Frank... you keep a warm and cozy house here.” John grinned. “I'm so grateful to you for all you're doing, not just for us, but for everyone.”

  “Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from a man like you. My wife is away visiting her folks. I can't tell you how much she admires you too. She thinks mighty highly of you, Adams, that's for sure. She'll be so disappointed if she doesn't get to meet you while you're here.”

  “It's good to be thought well of, but I fear there are more people who hate me than admire me. They probably got the bloodhounds after us by now.” John noticed Tad yawning. Her eyes were starting to droop.

  “I suppose it's time we got you two in bed.” Mr. Frank stood. “Don't worry about the bloodhounds. I have my ways... and I doubt they'll venture out on a night like this to hunt anyone down.”

  John stood up. “Then I'm more than ready to lie down. Come along, little Tad.” He smiled at the child. They followed Mr. Frank to a room.

  “It's a bit cool in here, but there's plenty of covers to keep y'all warm.”

  “Thank you, sir. This will do fine.” The room was large with three beds and a cot. “I see you get many overnight guests.”

  “At times we have many. We don't like to put anyone on the floor on these cold nights. It's bett
er to be over-stocked than under, I think.”

  “You're right.”

  “Well, I'll leave you two to get settled in for the night. Have a good rest.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And I thanks you too, Sir.” Tad smiled.

  “You're both very welcome. Now, get some rest. Oh, can I have your coat for the night?”

  “Sure, but why?”

  “I'm going to throw the scent off to the creek... just in case, ya know?” Mr. Frank left the room.

  It was a bit chilly but a lot safer and much better than freezing outside. John tucked Tad into her bed with its down mattress and several heavy quilts. She was quite warm in just a little while. John sat on the side of his bed. He rubbed his face with his hands. What is to be done with little Tad? He lay back in bed and pulled the quilts over his body.

  John woke the next morning to see a small black image standing beside his bed quietly watching him sleep. He jumped awake and Tad jumped back. “Good Lord! What in the world are you doing there?”

  “I— I have to do something and I don't know where to do it at.”

  “What on earth do you have to do?”

  “I have to make water, sir.”

  “Make what?”

  “Water... you know. I have to go.” Tad did a little jumping dance.

  “Oh, I see,” John laughed. “There must be a chamber pot around here or something.” John got on his hands and knees and checked under his bed, but he didn't see anything.

  “I done looked.”

  “I guess you're going to have to go outside and look for the outhouse.”

  “It's too cold to go outside.”

  “Come on. It's better to be a little cold than a lot wet.” He smiled. Tad chuckled and threw her blanket around herself. They peeped out and looked all around, but they saw no outhouse.

  “I know, I bet he has a water closet.”

  “A what?”

  “It's a place inside to use like an outhouse.”

  “Oh... eew! That's nasty! A commode in the house?”

  “Actually, it's very clean and modern. Who would have thought this country house would have one,” John said as the little girl fidgeted.

  “I can't hold it no more!”

  “Well, since it's an emergency, just run over there behind the shed.” John pointed. Tad took off running and disappeared around the corner of the shed.

  She came out in a few minutes. “That was a close call. We gots to figure this place out before the next time I have to go.”

  “That we do.” John chuckled and took her small hand in his. It felt good to hold this little hand... it felt like Sarah's. He looked into her small black face, and his heart went out to her. This little one was so alone and so small yet so brave and cheerful. They went in and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “How old are you, little Tad?” John asked.

  “I think I'm almost nine.”

  “You don't know?”

  “Not for sure. I was sold when I was three to Mr. Sims. That was five years ago, but nobody knows my exact birthday.”

  “Where's your folks?”

  “I don't know. I never knowed them.”

  “Were you the only slave Mr. Sims owned?”

  “No, Sir. There was momma Joan. She was the cook and all. I was just supposed to be a playmate for the Sims’ daughter, Elsie... but when Elsie died, I was turned into a maid like momma Joan.”

  “What kind of work did you do?”

  “I make the beds and clean the rooms. Sometimes helped momma Joan cook and wash up the dishes.”

  “Were the Sims good to you?”

  “Shoot no! Mr. Sims hate me and momma Joan! He would just drink and hit us. He gots a mean spirit in him. He even hit Mrs. Sims some. He was an overseer before he bought that hotel, and he hates slaves worse than anything. Momma Joan told me, overseers are the meanest men on earth and I believe she's right!”

  “It's a mighty hard world out there, with a lot of hateful people in it.”

  “That's for sure, Mr. Adams! That's for sure!”

  “You can call me John.”

  “I thought your first name be Kyle?”

  “It is, but friends call me John... and you're my friend, right?”

  “Yeah, Mr. John, I be your friend.”

  “Did you two rest well?” Mr. Frank entered the kitchen where they sat talking.

  “I know I did... really well!” John smiled.

  “And how about you, little one?” Mr. Frank looked at Tad.

  “Good, sir. Very good. But I needs to know where to go. I almost went on myself this morning before I just went over behind your shed.”

  “Oh, that will never do.” Mr. Frank chuckled in his deep voice. “Come and I'll show you were to go.” He led John and Tad upstairs. “Mrs. Frank is from the Northeast and wouldn't rest until I had built her a, ‘proper’ water closet. But a hole's a hole, I always say!”

  “Well, this be a mighty fancy hole, Mr. Frank, Sir,” Tad said as she peered through the door.

  They returned to the kitchen.

  “I bet the two of you could go for some grub by now, huh?” Mr. Frank offered.

  “That wouldn't be bad at all.” John rubbed his stomach.

  “Flap-jacks sound good to ya? It's the only thing I know how to cook really well, and we have some mighty tasty jam put up by the missus to spread on them.”

  John felt a rumble and growl began to vibrate at the thought of flap-jacks drowned in jam, it sounded so good. “I wouldn't be opposed to it... how about you, little Tad?”

  “No, sir... I wouldn't be! I can help you out there, Mr. Frank, if you want me to. I knows just how to fix up most anything.”

  “No, you're my guest here. You just take it easy this morning.” Mr. Frank smiled at the little girl.

  The three sat down to a hearty breakfast of flap-jacks and strawberry jam with hot coffee.

  “Sorry I don't have milk for you, Tad... but our heifer took ill and died on us.”

  “Don't fret, this be mighty fitting, Mr. Frank.”

  “I hope you enjoy it.”

  Tad dove into the flap-jacks with all her might. When she was done the plate looked as clean as when Mr. Frank had taken it from the shelf and placed it in front of her.

  “Would you like a bit more?”

  “Maybe one more won't hurt me none.” She smiled. Mr. Frank passed her another flap-jack. Tad spread the jam thickly over it. She took a little longer with this one, as though taking time to savor the flavor before gulping it down. When she stood up from the table her full belly was pouched out in a little round knot. “I don't know when I et so much.” She rubbed her belly.

  “You sure could use a few more meals like that, little Tad.” Mr. Frank said with a wink.

  “Yeah, I sho'ly could.” She nodded her head at him. “Momma Joan always say I be skinny as a rail and po as a snake. You sho’ cook good, Mr. Frank. You could fatten me right up!”

  “Well, I don't know how many more meals we'll have here, Tad. I think we should start moving on.” John looked worried.

  “So soon?” Mr. Frank frowned.

  “Yes, sir. You know when you're on the run, it's important to keep running.”

  “Well, you can stay a few days, huh?”

  “No, sir... I was thinking about moving on out today.”

  “No, I won't hear of it. You and Tad need supplies and clothes. I can get them for you, but it will take time.”

  “Mr. Frank... we're not far enough away from that place to stay planted here that long. Today is looking like it's going to be our best chance to head out. We need to get while the getting is good.”

  “You really should stay at least another day. I can get you a wagon, food and warmer clothes. But it will take a little bit of time. No one knows you're here. You are both completely safe.”

  “What if they send out the hounds for Tad?”

  “If they were going to do that, they would have already done it. Besi
des, it's way too cold for them to search too much.”

  “I suppose we could stick around one more night. I really can't drag Tad around like this. We do need those things. I had to leave everything behind, and she didn't have anything.”

  “Great, then it's settled. You two can leave in the morning. We'll spend today getting you ready.”

  Mr. Frank went up to the attic and brought down some warm children's clothes. They were a bit large on Tad, but that didn't matter. They were warm. Then John and Mr. Frank went out to the shed and stocked the wagon with goods, then pulled the canvas top tightly together. Finally Mr. Frank placed a rifle under the wagon bench. “That'll come in handy should there be any trouble.”

  “Yes, Mr. Frank. Thank you so much, for everything. I'll find a way to repay you for this, somehow.”

  “You don't worry about it, son. Just get yourself and that child to safety. We all appreciate the job you're doing and it's gracious little we're doing to help. These things are donated for just such an occasion. Yet, not one of us keeps a lot on hand, we have to go and gather it up. Looks too suspicious having too much laying around.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  “One time I did have the dogs track a slave man to the house, but I just said I had woke up that morning and found him stealing my food and chased him off with a shot gun. I didn't know which way he'd gone and I couldn't help it if their dogs had lost the scent.”

  “How many times will that excuse hold water?”

  “You'd be surprised. Folks think I'm the biggest hate monger around. All you have to do is run your mouth a little bit and they'll believe it. Folks will believe a lie quicker than they will the truth any day.”

  As night fell and the wind howled around the corners of the tight warm house, the three sat down to supper together. “Seems like we're getting another blast from the north tonight.” Mr. Frank shivered.

  “Yeah, I wish we could have made some ground today while it was a bit clear.”

  “It'll be all right. I'm sure the sun will shine in the morning. But if not you've got a warm wagon and plenty of covers.”

  “I hope you're right about that sunshine, though.” John gulped down a spoonful of stew.