American Dreams Trilogy

by Michael Phillips

  “Of course not!”

  “Once you are back in the Union, you should have no difficulty the rest of the way to Boston. Isn’t one of your sisters in Norfolk?”

  “Mary and her husband went back to New York when the war started. That’s where her husband is from. I will spend the night with her on my way to Boston and back.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Thomas had known for several days that they were getting close to Greenwood. He could smell it in the air. He could see it in the terrain.

  He sensed it.

  He had known for some time that the place he had heard his fellow pilgrims talking about was his own home, and that the angels were his own father and mother.

  So many feelings filled his brain and heart as they moved closer and closer. He was excited, afraid, nervous. What would he tell his parents about what he had done? How would they react? Would his father be angry with him for deserting his unit?

  So many confusing thoughts swirled within him that he had not yet even told Deanna that one of their next stations was his own home.

  Then came the day when Thomas began to recognize specific sights. He knew exactly where they were! He and Seth had ridden these same hills. He had helped rescue runaways coming on this same route! He could lead them the rest of the way himself!

  They spent the next two days hiding out, before moving on again as darkness fell. Thomas became more nervous. How would he explain himself? But he could not turn back now!

  Yet one final time they walked all night. When they lay down to rest in a cave as the sun was coming up, and were told that someone would be along for them that day, Thomas knew where that someone would be from, and where he would be taking them!

  He had hardly noticed Deanna hesitate, as they approached the cave, looking with a curious expression at a large boulder standing to one side of the cave’s mouth, before following the others inside.

  Late in the morning as they dozed in one of the caves that Thomas had grown up thinking was haunted by the ghosts of dead Indians, they heard a voice outside.

  “Any railroad trab’lers in dere who’s waitin’ fo’ a stashun break?”

  Thomas sat up and crept to the back of the group. Everyone stood as Isaac Shaw ducked and walked into the cool darkness. “All right, I see dere is,” he said. “Come wiff me. We gots a meal waitin’ fo’ you.”

  He turned and walked back out into the sunshine and the group of runaways followed. Thomas hung back. Deanna waited, glancing toward him with a confused expression. At last Thomas came out of the cave behind the rest of the group.

  They followed Isaac down the hill toward Greenwood. It was not until they had been walking for ten or twelve minutes that Isaac turned around to say something to the man in the lead. Behind the others his gaze fell on a white boy who looked about his own age. Suddenly his eyes shot open wide as two saucers and he stopped in his tracks.

  “Laws!” he exclaimed. “Dat be… Laws almighty… Thomas! Dat really be you?”

  At last Thomas came forward, a sheepish grin on his lips. “Hello, Isaac,” he said. “Yes… it’s really me.”

  The next instant he found himself crushed in a bear hug reminiscent of Isaac’s father Malachi. The others watched in amazement. They had always sensed something a little peculiar about Thomas. Now here he was being greeted by a black boy like he was his own brother!

  “I don’t know what you’s doin’ here, or how you got here,” said Isaac, “but dis is gwine cause da biggest uproar eber seen at Greenwood!”

  “What are you talking about?” laughed Thomas. “I just came home, that’s all.”

  “Dat ain’t hardly all dere is to it!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “You really don’t know?” asked Isaac again.

  “No, Isaac!” laughed Thomas. “What are you talking about?”

  “Den I’m not sayin’ a word! I’s jes’ gonna stan’ by an’ watch da commotion when you walks in! I got me a heap er questions, but dey kin keep. Dere’s gonna be more folks den me wiff questions, an’ dat’s a fact!”

  Isaac turned, and continued down the hill, chuckling to himself.

  “What is he talking about, Thomas?” said Deanna. “Why do you know each other?”

  “I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you,” replied Thomas. “But… this station we’re going to—it’s my home.”

  Isaac made no attempt to follow the usual paths that kept out of sight. He walked onto the road that led straight to the main house.

  While they were still far off, Richmond, who was working outside, saw the group approaching. Among them he saw a white face that he knew and recognized instantly, even from a distance.

  Without pausing to ask himself how it could be, his heart swelled with the fullness of a father’s love. He dropped the shovel in his hand and broke into a run.

  Thomas saw him. His heart began to pound. He stood watching a moment, then left the others and ran toward his father.

  They met in the road and embraced. Richmond was weeping like a baby and stroking the hair on Thomas’s head as he once had when he was a child. Thomas allowed himself for the first time in years to be comforted by his father’s arms.

  “Dad,” said Thomas in a shaky voice, tears pouring from his eyes. “I am sorry for everything. I was so full of resentment that I had no right to feel. You were such a good father and I could not see it. I am so sorry. I know I don’t deserve it, but I hope you can forgive me.”

  Richmond’s heart was bursting in an agony of joy. “Oh, Thomas… Thomas, you were always forgiven! I love you more than you can know.”

  They stood for several moments in one another’s arms. Thomas’s fellow travelers walked slowly toward them, shy to get too close. They did not understand what was going on, but they could tell this was a holy moment.

  Some premonition led Carolyn out the front door. She saw the small crowd gathered some fifty yards from the house. Though she could not see Thomas’s face, an inkling of the truth swelled in her mother’s breast.

  She gasped as a rush of heat swept through her, and she started to run. With every step she was more and more certain of what she thought she had seen. Before she was halfway to them, tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was babbling in confused but ecstatic thanksgiving.

  Richmond stepped back and she ran straight into Thomas’s arms, sobbing without restraint on his chest where he stood now several inches taller than she.

  “Isaac!” called Richmond behind them, “go get Sydney. Tell him that Thomas has come home! Our son who was dead is alive… he was lost and now is found! Tell him to butcher the calf. All Greenwood will feast tonight!”

  Word spread through Greenwood like a wind rushing down out of the mountains. While the black railroad passengers still stood in bewilderment, and as Richmond and Carolyn cried and laughed and overwhelmed Thomas with happy questions, men and women and boys and girls began pouring out of the big house and the black houses and running toward the scene—Cynthia and Sydney and Chigua and Nancy and Aaron Shaw and the other former slaves who had known Thomas all their lives.

  Gradually Thomas began to put two and two together and realize what the fuss was all about. Cynthia and Cherity embraced him weeping. Thomas, who for years had unconsciously felt overshadowed by his older brother realized perhaps for the first time in his life just how greatly he was loved. For no matter how much love is poured out upon son or daughter, unless that love is received, its full effect cannot be accomplished in the heart. At last Thomas was capable of receiving the love that had always existed toward him. It entered deeply into him, and continued the healing in his soul that he had allowed to begin some months before.

  Nancy eventually led the newcomers away to take charge of them and see to their accommodations. One of them, however, a black girl of eighteen or nineteen, hung back, still watching Thomas where he and his family stood talking excitedly.<
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  Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas saw her standing alone. He turned toward her.

  “Oh, but you have to meet the girl who saved my life!” he said. “Deanna… Deanna, come over here! I want you to meet my family!”

  At the name, Richmond and Carolyn glanced at one another.

  Shyly Deanna walked slowly toward the excited group. Thomas ran a few steps, took her hand, and pulled her toward the others.

  “This is Deanna!” he said, and his voice was obviously filled with pride. “I would be dead now if it wasn’t for her! Deanna, this is my father and mother and my sister, and my brother’s… I mean our friend Cherity Waters. And this is Sydney… and his wife Chigua.”

  “Welcome to Greenwood,” said Carolyn, taking both Deanna’s hands in hers. “I am Carolyn Davidson. And your name again is—” she said, then hesitated.

  “Deanna,” replied Deanna, “—Deanna Steddings.”

  Carolyn drew in a sharp breath and her face went pale. The next instant Deanna found herself swallowed in the embrace of this white lady who was perhaps an angel, but who until a few seconds ago had been a perfect stranger.

  “Did you say… Steddings?” exclaimed Richmond.

  “Yes,” laughed Deanna. “Deanna Steddings. Why… do you know the name from somewhere?”

  “I should say I do! I cannot believe my ears! Your father’s and mother’s names would not by chance be Aaron and Zaphorah?”

  Now it was Deanna’s turn to gasp in astonishment as she slowly nodded.

  Again Carolyn burst into sobs. “Oh, Richmond!”

  “They have been very worried about you!” said Richmond.

  “You know my parents!” now exclaimed Deanna.

  “They were here,” said Carolyn, weeping with yet more disbelieving joy. “They came to Greenwood just like you did! They told us about you. We have been praying for you!”

  “Where are they?” asked Deanna.

  “Home… in Mount Holly.”

  Now the tears of disbelief and thanksgiving poured out all over again. The homecoming of those who had been lost and now were found became the blessing of a double homecoming! Suddenly it was Thomas who was full of questions.

  They all began making their way to the house, everyone talking and clustered about and asking questions at once.

  Never had Greenwood witnessed such a joyous occasion.

  Thirty-Eight

  The rest of the day of the homecoming passed like an excited blur. Simply being in his father’s presence again removed every burden from Thomas’s mind. He and Richmond talked and laughed like old friends, as indeed they had always been. How could he have forgotten how much fun his father was! Not a word of judgment or condemnation was spoken all day, only acceptance, love, and free-flowing good times between father and son. He should have known there was nothing to worry about. His father and Seth were the two best friends he had in the world. How could he have forgotten?

  About an hour after his arrival, Thomas saw Nancy Shaw leading Deanna down toward the black houses. He went to find his mother.

  “Mom,” he said, “where is Nancy taking Deanna?”

  “Down to find her a place to stay with the others, I think,” answered Carolyn.

  “But, Mom… I thought…,” began Thomas.

  Suddenly he realized that he was embarrassed.

  “But, she’s… I mean,” he went on, “but she’s with me, Mom, not with them. She’s… you know, like one of the family.”

  “I think I understand,” she said. “I’m sorry, Thomas. With everything happening, I didn’t think of it. Nancy was just trying to help. I’ll go down and talk to her. We’ll put her in the room next to Cherity.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Two mornings later, after breakfast, Thomas and Richmond walked together outside talking man to man in a way they had never done before.

  “I meant what I said when I came,” said Thomas. “I don’t know why I was so angry about so many things. I really am sorry. You were the best father a son could have had.”

  “We all have to grow up in our own way,” said Richmond. “I faced some things when I was young too. I didn’t handle everything as I wish I had. But we grow even through our immaturities.”

  Richmond went on to share some of the heartaches of his own past, much as he had on a previous occasion with Seth.

  “Thanks, Dad,” said Thomas. “I guess I understand some of your struggles better now. I was nervous about coming home. I didn’t know what you would say. Now that I’m here, I realize I had nothing to worry about. But… there is one thing I need to say… that I want to say.”

  Thomas paused and drew in a breath of resolve. This was hard!

  “I just want to say, Dad,” he continued after a few seconds, “that I love you. I have always loved you, and I’m sorry I didn’t show it.”

  Richmond blinked hard as tears welled up in his eyes.

  “Thank you, Thomas,” he said softly. “Your words mean more than I can tell you. I love you too.”

  He threw his arm around Thomas’s shoulders and the two walked on. For the first time in years, Thomas realized that it felt good to have his father’s arm around him. It felt good to be loved. It felt good to be loved by a father, his father.

  It did not take long for Cherity and Deanna to hit it off. Though Cherity was several years older, they were close enough in age that they were drawn toward one another. And the fact that both stood in unique relationships with the two Davidson brothers may also have contributed to the friendship that quickly sprung up between them.

  And, too, they shared a love of horses, though Deanna did not have a fraction of Cherity’s experience. She had not ridden during her slave years, and the last time she had been on the back of a horse had ended with her falling off and being separated from her family. Nevertheless, she was excited when Cherity suggested a ride.

  They walked into the stables to pick out two mounts.

  “This is a new young stallion Thomas’s brother had shipped to me,” said Cherity. “He is gentle and shies at nothing. You can ride him. You will be safe and comfortable. I will ride Patches.”

  Twenty minutes later they were heading slowly away from Greenwood up the incline toward the ridge. Within no time Deanna seemed as comfortable on Cadence’s back as if she had been riding every day for years.

  “Dad,” said Thomas hesitantly, “I… uh, I need to ask your advice about something.”

  “Sure, Thomas… what is it?”

  “Well… you know, what I did—leaving like I did, running away from my unit. It doesn’t seem right, and I don’t know what to do about it. I mean, it isn’t that I have thought seriously about going back. I told you what happened and what Deanna overheard them saying. In one way, I suppose I had no choice. But in another way… deserting your unit is something they used to hang people for, isn’t it? You know, duty to one’s country and treason and all that.”

  “Maybe at one time they did,” said Richmond seriously. “Tell me, Thomas, do you feel that you did wrong?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Leaving aside for a minute that your life was in danger, do you feel that it was wrong to run away from the war?”

  Thomas thought a minute.

  “I don’t know,” he said at length. “I guess I really don’t. I have come to believe that this war itself is wrong, that the South was wrong to have started it, and that I was wrong to join in a fight that should never have taken place at all. The wrong I feel is not my leaving, but my joining the army in the first place. I mean… I know that desertion is wrong in ordinary circumstances. An army can’t just have people leaving when they decide they don’t like a war. Sometimes duty to one’s country is higher than one’s own life. If Mr. Lincoln walked into Greenwood right now and said, ‘Thomas, I want you to go fight for me, for the good of the country,’ I think I would do it. At least I hope I would. But I don’t think the Confederacy is a legitimate nation with a legitimate claim to my alle
giance. The Confederate army is not a legitimate army at all because it is in rebellion against its true president.”

  Richmond nodded. “I see,” he said. “Then perhaps your leaving as you did—putting aside again for the moment that your life was in danger—was your way, not to desert your principles but actually to stand up for your convictions in a way you hadn’t done before. Is that perhaps how you see it?”

  “In a way… yes, that’s exactly it, Dad. But I don’t want to make myself sound too heroic. That’s how I’ve been thinking of it in the months since it happened. But at the time, I was just trying to stay alive. Maybe I was being cowardly and I am just making excuses for myself.”

  “Is the guilt you feel perhaps not so much for what you did, but from the stigma associated with desertion?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “It is a difficult dilemma, Son. I would not for a moment advocate your going back. I think the war is about over anyway. Yet you may still have a duty to fulfill, as you say. I trust that the Lord will show you if he does indeed have some alternate way for you to faithfully obey that duty to your country.”

  Cherity and Deanna rode through the woodland that was part of the Brown tract, talking freely as they went. Cherity was explaining about the Brown house and the caves and legends associated with them. Deanna was telling Cherity about her family and how they had escaped and everything that had happened with Thomas on the Underground Railroad.

  “You know how fond of you Thomas is?” said Cherity.

  Deanna felt the heat rise on the back of her neck. She glanced away.

  “What do you mean?” she said.

  “He worships you, Deanna. Anyone can see that from the way he looks at you.”

  “It’s just because I helped him. He’s just being nice to me.”

  “It’s more than that. I can tell.”

  “But… I’m black and he’s white.”

  “Do you think that makes any difference around here!” laughed Cherity. “I don’t think anyone at Greenwood even knows what skin color is! Believe me, that is the last thing Thomas is thinking about.”