Ransom of Love

by Al Lacy

  “Ol’ Mose is goin’ to heaven because he has received Jesus and been born again, Massa … born into God’s family. God’s only begotten Son went to the cross of Calvary and paid the price to save sinners. But He will only save those who will put their faith in Him. Those who do are heaven-bound. Those who don’t are hell-bound. Jesus said hell is everlasting fire, Massa.”

  “Look, Mose,” Finn said, “we’ve had this conversation many times before and I’ve heard you preach the slave burials and tell the same thing. I’m simply not interested.”

  “But, Massa, one day you will die. If you die without Jesus, you—”

  “That’s enough, Mose! I have different beliefs about life, death, and eternity, as does the rest of my family. I don’t care what the Bible says. I don’t believe it.”

  Heavy of heart, the old man said, “Massa Finn, I simply care about you and your family. I don’t want any of you to go to hell when you die.”

  The plantation owner wiped a hand over his mouth. “Mose, we aren’t going to hell. I don’t believe in hell. My family and I are good people, and good people go to heaven.”

  “Massa Finn, how do you know there is a heaven? The only way mankind has ever heard that there is a heaven is from the Word of God—the Bible.”

  For a few seconds, Finn Colvin’s mouth was stopped. Then he cleared his throat and said, “I do believe that part of the Bible, Mose.”

  “But, Massa, the same Bible that says there is a heaven says there is a hell.”

  Again, Finn was speechless.

  Mose took advantage of the silence to say, “Massa, the existence of heaven demands the existence of hell.”

  Finn Colvin drummed the book in his lap with his fingertips. “And why is that?”

  “You said that good people go to heaven. Are there bad people, Massa?”

  “Well, of course.”

  “Then, where do the bad people go?”

  “Look, Mose. Let’s just say that I believe part of the Bible. It can’t all be true. I don’t believe I need to be saved. I don’t believe that part of the Bible, nor the part about an eternal burning hell for people who don’t get saved … or born again, as you call it.”

  Tears filmed Mose’s eyes. “But Massa Finn, what if you are wrong and the Bible is right? That means without Jesus in your heart, you will die and spend eternity in hell. Please don’t reject Him any more. Please open your heart—”

  “That’s enough, Mose! I want to get back to my book. You get your dusting done.”

  Mose nodded. “Yes, Massa.”

  He put the Bible back on the shelf and went back to his work.

  Colvin did not look up from his book until the old man had left the library, closing the door behind him. Seconds after the door went shut, Finn Colvin pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his sweaty brow.

  Mose’s words reverberated through his mind: Massa Finn, what if you are wrong and the Bible is right? That means without Jesus in your heart, you will die and spend eternity in hell.

  Finn laid down his book and went to the bookshelves. With dry mouth and trembling hand, he picked up the Bible and opened it to the New Testament, noting verses his grandmother had underlined. He took a few minutes to read the underlined passages on several pages, then closed the Bible and returned it to the shelf.

  When he sat down in the chair again and picked up his book, he found it difficult to concentrate. The Scriptures he had just read, and those read and quoted to him by Ol’ Mose kept pressing themselves into his mind.

  Dan Johnson opened the door to Charleston’s post office and greeted a man and woman who were just leaving, then went to the counter.

  “Hello, Dan,” said the clerk.

  “Hello, Eugene. I’m just here to pick up the mail.”

  The clerk pivoted and disappeared behind a partition.

  Seconds later, he returned, bearing a small stack of envelopes. “Here you are, Dan.”

  “Thanks, Eugene. See you later.” As he spoke, Dan’s eyes fell to the envelope on top. “Oh! Good!”

  Eugene cocked his head. “Somebody you’ve been wanting to hear from, I take it?”

  “Yes. You remember the Wickburgs?”

  “Oh, sure. Sold their plantation a couple of years ago and moved out West.”

  “Right. Their oldest son, Bill, was one of my closest friends in school and at church.”

  “I remember that.”

  “This letter is from Bill. We’ve been corresponding some.”

  “I see. Where are they living out there?”

  “Texas. They’ve got a large cattle ranch about ten miles south of Austin and are doing well.”

  “I’m glad for them. Nice people.”

  Dan nodded and headed for the door. “See you later.”

  At the Johnson plantation, Zack entered the kitchen, sniffed the pleasant aroma, and smiled at their cook, saying, “Sure smells good, Samantha.”

  The silver-haired cook gave him a big smile. “Thank you, Massa Zack. Cornbread and beans. Yo’ favorite.”

  Zack headed for the table, where Catherine, Alexander, and Angeline were already seated. He looked at Dan’s empty chair. “He’s not back from town?”

  “No,” Catherine said. “We’ll have to go ahead and eat lunch without him.”

  Zack looked at his youngest son. “It’s your turn to pray, isn’t it, Alexander?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  During Alexander’s prayer, there were footsteps on the back porch, and just as he said the amen, the door opened.

  “Sorry to be late,” Dan said. “I ran into Jed Farnham and Foster Wiggins when I came out of the post office. I told them I had a letter from Bill Wickburg, and they wanted to know all about how the Wickburgs are doing in Texas. Took a few minutes to tell them what I know without opening the letter and reading it right there. I did read it after I was in the buggy.”

  “Well, get your hands washed, son,” said Catherine.

  “Okay.” Dan laid the mail on the cupboard and sniffed the pleasant aroma. He grinned at the cook. “Ah-h-h, Samantha. Cornbread and beans. You are the best cook in Charleston County.”

  Samantha giggled. “How does you know that, Massa Dan? You ain’t eaten all the other cooks’ food in the county.”

  He went to the washstand then looked over his shoulder and said, “Don’t have to. When you have the best, you know it.”

  Samantha giggled again. “Well, if I’s that good, why haven’t you said anythin’ about takin’ me to the West with you when you go out there to become a cattle rancher? Somebody’s gotta cook fo’ you.”

  Dipping his hands into the soapy water in the basin, he said, “Sh-h-h! Don’t tell that bunch at the table, but I am planning to take you with me!”

  Zack laughed. “No way, son. You’d have to buy her from me, and Samantha’s not for sale. Not at any price.”

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to kidnap her!”

  “We’ll talk about it later, Massa Dan,” said the cook. “Now, all of you enjoy yo’ cornbread and beans. I’ll be back to clean up in a little while.”

  As the Johnson family started to eat, Zack said, “So what did Bill say in his letter, Dan?”

  “Well, Pa, it’s full of how great the cattle ranching business is in Texas, and how happy he and his parents are to be there.”

  “That’s wonderful,” said Catherine. “Certainly it was God’s will for them to sell their plantation and go West.”

  “I would say so,” said Zack. “When a Christian is in God’s will, he is content.”

  Alexander looked at his brother and said, “Is this why you aren’t content to be here anymore, Dan … because the Lord wants you in the West?”

  “I’m really beginning to feel strongly that way, little brother. Bill’s encouraging me to come to Texas, since he knows I feel I should be in the West. He says Texas is the place to be out there if a man wants to get into cattle ranching.”

  “Texas is God’s place for Bill
and his family,” Zack said. “But that might not mean that’s where God wants you, Dan.”

  “Maybe not, Pa, but I’m sure going to be praying about it.”

  “Please put a lot of prayer into it, son,” Catherine said. “Your father and I are. As we have cautioned you … don’t rush it.”

  “I won’t, sweet mother. Oh! And something else Bill told me in his letter. He’s getting married!”

  Angeline gasped. “Really? Found him a nice Christian girl out in Texas, huh?”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean?” Catherine said. “He’s not marrying a Christian girl?”

  “Oh, yes. But he didn’t find her in Texas. As he explained in his letter, young, single, unattached Christian girls are scarce out there. In fact, young, single, unattached girls of any kind are scarce out there. So you know what he did? He advertised for a mail order bride in several Eastern newspapers, and at this very moment, she’s on her way to Austin from Indianapolis, Indiana.”

  “Dan, you’re joking!” Catherine said.

  “No, Mama, I’m not. Her name is Betty Rhodes. She’s a farm girl … born and raised on a farm about ten miles east of Indianapolis.”

  Zack swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes, then said, “Mail order bride, eh? Seems scary to me.”

  “It would be for me,” said Catherine. “I can’t imagine leaving my home, wherever it was, and going out West to marry some man I had never met.”

  “I sure couldn’t do it,” Angeline said.

  “I remember when the mail order bride system started back in 1849,” said Catherine, “when the big gold rush hit California. I’ve really never heard how successful it has been.”

  Zack had some hot coffee and set the cup in its saucer. “I’m wondering about this situation with Bill and the girl from Indiana. How could the mail order bride system possibly work for Christians?”

  “I heard some Christian girls at school talking about it just last week, Pa,” said Angeline. “One of them knows of a Christian young woman in Augusta, Georgia, who answered one of those mail order bride ads from a Christian man in Wyoming, and he had stipulated in the ad that he wanted a born-again woman. After she sent her reply, she got a letter from him. He explained in detail what he meant by born-again, using Scripture. He asked for her testimony, and when he received it, he wrote back and asked her to come to Wyoming with the prospect of becoming his wife. She went to him, they married, and have been happy ever since.”

  “Knowing Bill,” said Dan, “I’m sure he put something like that in his ads. You know how close he walks to the Lord.”

  Angeline set adoring eyes on her big brother. “Dan, if you go to Texas, I’ll miss you something terrible.”

  “We all will, honey,” Zack said. “But your mother and I want him to go out West only if it is God’s will. And the way he’s feeling about it … it just may be exactly what the Lord wants him to do.”

  “That’s how I’m thinking, Pa,” Dan said.

  Zack smiled at his eldest son. “If the Lord leads you to do it, your mother and I will dip into your share of your inheritance and give you the money so you will have the proper start in the cattle business out there … in Texas, or wherever. We want you to be a real success in it.”

  “Thank you, Dad. I’m so glad both of you feel that way.”

  That same afternoon at the Moore plantation, Priscilla and Dorena were sitting on the back porch of the mansion. For some months Priscilla had been teaching Dorena how to read and write. The lessons were an hour long, five days a week.

  During this time the girls’ hearts became knit together in a special way, for it was Priscilla who had led Dorena to the Lord a week after Dorena became her slave. Shortly thereafter, Dorena’s parents had come to know the Lord. Priscilla and Dorena enjoyed each other’s company immensely, whether Dorena was doing her work for Priscilla or they were just doing things together.

  This day was an especially warm one. The porch was shaded by huge oak trees, and once in a while a gentle breeze wafted over them. They sipped lemonade periodically to quench their thirst.

  Priscilla had placed an English textbook in Dorena’s hands, and after the one-hour grammar lesson was over, Dorena closed the book and said, “Thank you so much for doing this for me, Miss—” She looked around to make sure they were alone. “I mean … Priscilla. Because of your tutoring me, I’m doing better and better at reading the Bible you gave me.”

  “I’m glad, honey.” Priscilla picked up her pleated fan. She plied it briskly, stirring air to cool her warm face, and looked at Dorena with envy. Dorena was clad in a light cotton frock and was barefooted. Priscilla let her eyes trail down to her own dress with the many petticoats she was required to wear, along with cotton stockings and lace-up shoes.

  Dorena’s cheeks dimpled in a grin, and she said teasingly, “There are some advantages to being a slave.”

  Both girls broke into a giggle, then Priscilla said in a serious tone, “You are doing well in your studies. It won’t be long before you’ll be able to read and write as well as anybody, Dorena.”

  As she spoke, Priscilla saw her brother moving past the porch.

  When he laid eyes on them, he stopped and glared at Priscilla, waggled his head, and echoed in a mocking tone, “It won’t be long and you’ll be able to read and write as well as anybody, Dorena.”

  Dorena felt her stomach muscles tighten.

  “Leave us alone, Lewis,” Priscilla said.

  Lewis scowled at her tone of voice and clamped his teeth together, then bounded up the porch steps, and said, “You’re wrong to be teachin’ her to read and write, Priscilla! If certain people found out, you’d be in real trouble! You know it’s against the law in South Carolina to teach Darkies to read and write! If the authorities found out, you’d be punished severely … maybe jailed! And for certain, they would take Dorena away from you!”

  Lewis’s demeanor frightened Dorena. She trembled and ejected a tiny whimper.

  Priscilla jutted her jaw stubbornly, fixing her brother with flashing eyes. “That law you’re referring to, Lewis, is a stupid one! Dorena is my slave, and I can help her become literate if I want to! It’s nobody else’s business! Dorena has the right to be able to read her Bible as much as any white person does!”

  A dark flush moved swiftly up Lewis’s face. “You shouldn’t be so friendly with Dorena! You’re puttin’ yourself on a low level to fraternize with a slave like you do! Darkies are nothin’ but animals!”

  Hot tears surfaced in Dorena’s eyes.

  Priscilla shoved back her chair and took a step toward her brother and swung an open palm at his face.

  Lewis deftly seized her wrist and squeezed down hard as he said, “Don’t you ever try that again!”

  “Let go of me!” Priscilla leaned toward him in an attempt to ease the pain.

  “What’s going on here?” Evelyn’s strained voice came from the back door of the mansion.

  Releasing his grip on Priscilla’s wrist, Lewis met his mother’s gaze and said, “We were just havin’ a little disagreement.”

  “About what?”

  “He’s being his usual repugnant self, Mother,” Priscilla said. “He just called Negroes animals.”

  Evelyn’s gaze ran to a teary-eyed Dorena, who was slumped and cowering in her chair. Turning back to Lewis, she said, “Lewis, you apologize to Dorena right now!”

  Lewis gave his mother a defiant look, wheeled about, and stomped off the porch.

  “Lewis! Don’t you turn your back on me!”

  He ignored his mother and set fiery eyes on his sister. “You shouldn’t be teachin’ that black animal to read and write, Priscilla! I’ve got a good mind to report you to the authorities!” With that, he pivoted and stomped away.

  “Lewis!” Evelyn screamed. “You leave it alone, do you hear me? Don’t you dare go to the law! Your sister has a right to teach her own slave anything she wants! Do you hear me?”

  Lewis did not break his
stride. Seconds later, he disappeared around the corner of the house.

  Priscilla rushed to Dorena and wrapped her arms around her. Dorena sucked in a sob, feeling a hot drift of tears on her cheeks.

  “I love you,” Priscilla said, squeezing her tight.

  “I love you too … Miss Priscilla. I don’t want to be taken away from you!”

  “I’m not going to let that happen. Nobody is going to take you away from me.”

  “That’s right, honey,” Evelyn said, patting Dorena’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry. Master Charles will keep Lewis in line.”

  Looking up at Evelyn through her tears, Dorena said, “Why does Master Lewis hate me and my people?”

  “I don’t know. But don’t let him frighten you. Everything will be fine.”

  Brushing tears from Dorena’s cheeks with her fingertips, Priscilla said, “I’m so sorry for Lewis’s cutting, untrue words. I don’t know what’s the matter with him, but don’t let what he said bother you.”

  Dorena drew a shuddering breath and nodded. “I’ll be fine as long as you two and Master Charles love me.”

  Evelyn bent over her and said, “Well, then, you’ll be fine. Because we do.” With that, she went back into the house.

  Priscilla sat down at the table again, facing Dorena. “I’m so glad we have each other,” she said.

  “I am, too. I … I hope we can still be close, even when we are adults.”

  “I’m sure the day will come when we will have to part. I mean, when the young man God has for me comes along and I get married. For sure, we won’t live here on the plantation. We’ll have to live in our own home and live our own lives. But whether we live in Charleston or many miles away, you and I will still be together in our hearts.”

  “But you will come and see your parents now and then, won’t you? Even if you live many miles from here?”

  “Of course.”