Midnight Rescue

by Lois Walfrid Johnson

  How could I talk so loud about such an important secret? Libby moaned to herself. With all her heart, she wanted Jordan to stay free. With all her heart, she wanted to help Jordan’s family. Instead, with a few angry words she had ruined everything.

  My dream, Libby thought. Now she knew that’s what it was. My dream was to help Jordan’s family and other families like his. Now that dream was gone, like water dashing against the rocks, then falling away.

  Caleb will never trust me again. And Jordan—when Jordan finds out, he’ll hate me for what I did to him.

  Again Libby started crying. She was still sobbing when she fell asleep.

  When Libby woke up, she had no idea what time it was. She knew only that it must be the middle of the night. For a moment she lay there, wondering what had brought her out of a sound sleep. Her head hurt. Her eyes felt swollen. She wondered what had gone wrong.

  Then she remembered. Someone heard me give away Jordan’s secret. Someone we probably can’t trust. Whoever that man is, he now knows that Jordan is a fugitive!

  In her misery Libby cried out to God. “I told You I loved You. I asked for Your forgiveness. How can You let this happen to me?!”

  Her anger growing, Libby pounded her fists against the mattress. I thought that when I became a Christian, life would be easier. That I would say and do all the right things. I wanted to do something good—to help Jordan’s family. Instead, I’ve wrecked everything!

  Just then Libby’s stomach rumbled. And I’m hungry besides!

  Visions of food started to dance in Libby’s head. An apple. Where can I get an apple? Libby didn’t know. Then she remembered Gran’s big oatmeal cookies. Gran had showed her where they were in case Libby ever got hungry.

  When Libby’s feet touched the floor, she realized that she had fallen asleep still wearing her dress. Only then did Libby remember: The night before she had been so upset that for the first time in her life she had not eaten supper.

  This time Libby felt afraid to walk around the boat without Samson along. When she opened the door on the side of the deck where Samson slept, the great black Newfoundland stood up. As though sensing how Libby felt, he came close, brushing against her.

  Following just behind Libby’s heels, Samson stayed with her all the way down to Gran’s kitchen. There Libby found six giant cookies—three for herself and three for Samson.

  Taking the cookies along, Libby walked back to the front of the boat. At the top of the wide steps, she sat down in the shadows. Again Samson edged close, as though making sure Libby was all right. Flopping onto the step beside her, he stretched out. Each time Libby gobbled a cookie, she slipped one to Samson.

  From here Libby looked down over the bow of the Christina. As her eyes grew used to the night, she stared ahead at the dark water and even darker trees along the shore. A stiff wind had kicked up, and the cool night air felt good after the warmth of the day.

  Near the place where the gangplank usually went out, a lantern hung from a post, offering dim light. On the forward deck, crew and deck passengers lay on crates, barrels, and piles of wood—whatever they could find for a place to sleep.

  As the flag whipped in the wind, Libby thought about Jordan’s plans to rescue his family. It was hard to believe that in only a few hours he and Caleb would leave the boat. But Libby didn’t even know where. Burlington, Iowa? Keokuk, Iowa? Where will they get off?

  Coming upriver, Caleb had stopped in both towns. Yet, during all the times and ways he and Jordan made plans, they had never talked in front of her.

  They didn’t take a chance, Libby thought, feeling angry at herself again. Maybe Caleb knew I couldn’t keep a secret.

  Now there was one thing Libby felt sure about. They would leave without her. She no longer had even one tiny bit of hope that she could go along.

  By the time Libby finished the cookies she felt sleepy. Yawning once, then twice, she decided she better go back to bed. Suddenly a tall shape came around the corner at the bottom of the steps. Quietly he walked across the forward deck to the bow of the boat. For a moment the person stood there, not moving, staring ahead as Libby had.

  Then he straightened. Throwing back his shoulders, he reached up. With arms stretched above him, he raised his hands to the sky. Standing tall, he stretched as high as he could reach.

  Instantly Libby knew who he was. Jordan.

  The first night he came on board Jordan had raised his arms, as though celebrating his freedom. Was he thinking about what it meant to stand free under a starlit sky?

  As the moment passed, Jordan lowered his arms. Yet he stood there still, as though wanting to feel the cool night air—the air of freedom—against his face.

  Just then someone lying on one of the crates raised his head, then sat up. When Jordan turned away from the bow, the person quickly lay down. Yet the dark outline of his body had shifted. The man now lay on his side where he could see Jordan’s movements.

  Finding his way between the sleeping people, Jordan started back across the deck. Closer and closer he came toward the steps where Libby waited. Behind Jordan, the man on the crate sat up again. Without making a sound, he got to his feet and followed Jordan.

  Suddenly the man’s arm shot up. A loop of rope whirred through the air. Passing over Jordan’s head, it settled around his chest.

  Snapping tight, the rope jerked Jordan to a halt. As he struggled to free himself, the man moved toward him, drawing up the end of the rope as he went.

  CHAPTER 7

  Bad News

  Filled with terror, Libby leaped to her feet. From deep in his throat Samson growled, “Wooooof!” In the next moment the dog started down the steps.

  Just then Jordan’s right arm broke free. As the man came up behind him, Jordan thrust his elbow backward. With a quick, sharp movement he jabbed the man in the stomach. A sharp oooff! broke the quiet of the night.

  With another swift jerk, Jordan pulled the rope from the man’s hands. Clutching the rope, Jordan bounded toward the stairs. Taking two steps at a time, he raced past where Libby stood in the shadows.

  In panic Libby looked back to the deck. Already the man had disappeared.

  As Samson returned to her, Libby breathed deeply with relief. Jordan is safe—for now. The whole thing had happened so fast it didn’t seem real.

  But there was something about which Libby felt very sure. That was the man who heard me talking. Whoever he is, he’s been watching for a chance to capture Jordan and collect the reward.

  There was no other way to explain the man on the deck. Without doubt Libby knew what a truly awful thing she had done. This happened to Jordan because of me.

  Dropping down on the step again, Libby buried her head in her lap. Deep inside she felt a big lump as if her feelings had tied into a knot with the awfulness of what she had seen. Nuzzling against her, Samson licked her arm, but Libby paid no attention. I gave away a secret I needed to keep.

  When she finally lifted her head, Libby knew one thing. I can’t handle this by myself. I’ve got to talk to someone.

  For a moment she wished it could be Ma. As she pushed aside the lonely ache that came whenever she thought of her mother, Libby remembered Caleb’s grandmother. By now she would be up, shaping bread dough into rolls for breakfast. In the wee hours of morning, Libby found Gran in the pastry kitchen.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked the minute she saw Libby’s face.

  When Libby dropped down on a chair, her words spilled out. “I told a secret,” she said.

  “Some secrets aren’t meant for keeping,” Gran answered. “What if someone does something wrong and says you can’t tell on them? Was it that kind of secret?”

  “No, Gran.” Libby felt ashamed. “It’s the kind of secret that should have been kept.”

  As Gran filled pan after pan with bread dough, Libby told the story. She started with what happened while she and Caleb were supposed to keep watch. She ended with the man who threw a rope over Jordan.

  “I
t’s my fault,” Libby said.

  Gran sighed. “Much as I hate to say it, I think you’re right. Everything fits. It was dark on deck. No one else was watching. No one who objects to slavery saw Jordan being caught. All the man had to do was hide Jordan and take him off the boat when we reach a slave state.”

  “I’m sorry, Gran,” Libby said. “It’s a terrible thing to give away such an important secret.”

  “Yes, it is.” Gran was honest about it. “You hurt Jordan and his family, but it’s much more. You put a great number of people in danger. Do you understand how the Underground Railroad works?”

  “I think so,” Libby said.

  But Gran went on. “Let’s imagine what would happen if a slave catcher saw a fugitive enter a station—a house where people hide runaway slaves. The slave catcher might not pounce there. He could watch and wait till that slave went on to the next station, and the next, and the next. If the fugitive and the people who helped him didn’t hide what they were doing, a slave catcher would soon know a whole route. And he’d know the conductors—the people like Caleb who take fugitives from one station to the next.”

  The idea upset Gran so much that sparks of anger lit her eyes. Wiping the flour from her hands, she dropped down on a chair next to Libby.

  “It’s secrecy that makes the Underground Railroad work, Libby. I know the people who send runaway slaves to me. I know how to send fugitives to the next person. That’s all I need to know. Someone like Caleb knows many more people and places. But probably only a few people know the main routes across Iowa.”

  “You know only what you need to know,” Libby said slowly.

  “It’s better that way,” Gran said. “Otherwise, if one person gives something away, there could be a great number of people who get hurt.”

  Libby felt afraid to tell Gran her dream, yet it spilled out. “I wanted to help Jordan’s family. I want to help many runaway slaves. But look what I did!”

  No longer did Libby believe she could do anything she set out to do. Instead, she knew how easily she could fail. Because of that, being part of the Underground Railroad seemed even more difficult—even impossible.

  Suddenly Libby wished she could take the first train to Chicago. I want to go back to living with Auntie Vi. I want to be where life is easier, even if it isn’t as exciting.

  Gran covered the pans with towels, then sat down again. “You want to run, don’t you?” she asked as if she guessed Libby’s thoughts. “You want to give up and forget about the whole problem of slavery.”

  Libby stared at her. “How did you know?”

  “Because I’ve often thought the same thing. It would be much simpler not being involved. I wouldn’t have to watch every word I say. I wouldn’t be so afraid for Caleb.”

  “You’re afraid?” Libby asked.

  “Often I’m afraid,” Gran answered. “Caleb is my only grandson.”

  “Then why do you let him be part of the Underground Railroad?”

  When Gran spoke, Libby knew she had often thought about her answer. “For every one of us there comes a time when we make a choice about what we believe,” Gran said. “We don’t know how it’s going to affect our life or the people we love. When I made my choice, I said to myself, ‘Slavery for any human being is wrong. I’m going to do what I can to change it.’”

  “Was it hard for you—at first, I mean?”

  “It’s still hard.” Gran’s smile reached her eyes. “You see, I was involved in the Underground Railroad before Caleb. That’s why Caleb got involved. He was only nine years old, but he caught on to what I was doing.”

  “So your choice became his.”

  “He chose for himself,” Gran explained. “But I don’t know if he would have made that choice if I hadn’t.”

  “Strange,” Libby said. She thought back to the day when Caleb took her to the slave auction in St. Louis. “I wouldn’t have wanted to help if Caleb hadn’t opened my eyes.”

  Gran nodded. She understood that too. “Since I decided to help fugitives, my life has never been the same. I haven’t succeeded at everything I’ve tried. But I haven’t lost a passenger.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” Tears welled up in Libby’s eyes again. “I’ve already failed. I even put Jordan’s life in danger.”

  “Have you told God you’re sorry?” Gran asked.

  Libby shook her head. “He doesn’t like me.”

  “Oh, Libby!” Gran exclaimed. “Why do you think that?”

  Libby found it hard to explain, but when she tried, the words tumbled out. “I thought if I became a Christian that I’d say and do all the right things. Instead—” Libby stopped, unable to go on. As she began to weep, she turned away from Gran. But Gran’s arms surrounded her, holding Libby tight. When she finally stopped crying, Gran’s voice was soft.

  “There’s a secret you need to know, Libby. Just because you’re a Christian doesn’t mean your life will be easier, or that you’ll be perfect. But if you let Him, God will help you with whatever you face.”

  “Then everything will be okay?”

  “Not quite,” Gran said. “Sometimes we have to live with what happens because of what we did.”

  “You mean Jordan and his family might still suffer because of what I did.”

  Gran nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “And there’s nothing I can do to change that?”

  “Pray,” Gran said. “See if God brings something good out of this. All right?”

  Libby found it hard to believe that something good could possibly come from what she had done. But if Gran said so, maybe it was true.

  When Libby stood up to go, she was no longer afraid to look into Gran’s blue eyes. “Thanks,” Libby said softly. Her shoulders no longer slumped, and she held her head a bit higher. Maybe I understand Jordan’s proud look just a little better. He’s not proud in the wrong way. He just knows how God can help him.

  When Libby stepped out on the deck, the eastern sky was pink. A new day, Libby thought. She breathed deeply. The fresh morning air brought comfort to her heart. Maybe the most important thing about failing is what I learn from it.

  It was too early in the morning to set things right with Caleb and Jordan, but Libby’s thoughts leaped ahead. Okay. So I can’t go on the trip. But I’m going to believe that Jordan’s family will get here safely. If they do, what will they need?

  When Libby reached the texas deck, she realized that Samson was still trailing her. As he swished his big muzzle in his bowl of water, Libby opened the door of her room. She took one look at her quilts and knew what to do. Once before she had given them away. Now they were back, washed and clean—ready for someone who might need them more than she did.

  Again Libby thought ahead. It might be hard sneaking Jordan’s family on board and into the secret hiding place. When they came, they could be wet and cold from walking in rain. What if it was impossible to give them something warm?

  This would be a good time, Libby thought. Most of the passengers are still sleeping. But how can I carry quilts so that no one guesses what I’m doing?

  More than once Caleb had warned Libby that there were Southern sympathizers on board—people who supported the idea of slavery. One of these people was Bates, the first mate. Libby’s stomach tightened with dread just thinking about him. But there was an even bigger problem—the man who tried to catch Jordan during the night—and Libby didn’t know who he was.

  Then Libby remembered that her father had warm wool blankets. It would take two trips to carry her quilts and his blankets. That meant twice as much chance of being seen.

  Going out on deck, Libby looked around. As she tried to decide what to do, Samson nudged his empty food bowl. With a quiet woof he reminded her that he was hungry.

  Suddenly Libby laughed. Newfoundland dogs were known for helping people carry loads. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you food,” she told Samson. “But you’ll have to work for it.”

  Libby told the dog to stay,
then raced down the steps. In the engine room she got pieces of rope and flew back up the stairs. Quickly she rolled her quilts as tightly as she could, then tied rope around them. In Pa’s cabin she did the same with his blankets.

  On his bed she left a note.

  I need your blankets, Pa. Can you buy

  quilts or blankets for both of us in St. Louis?

  Back outside again Libby put her father’s blankets on Samson’s back. Carefully she balanced the load so it wouldn’t be hard for the dog on the stairs. “As soon as we’re done, you get to eat,” Libby promised.

  Down the few steps from the texas to the hurricane deck Libby went, then down the longer flight to the boiler deck. Samson followed her as if he did this every day of his life. On the main deck, Libby walked into the cargo room behind the stairs. Close to the door into the engine room was a small but heavy-looking piece of machinery. As though to give it more strength, the machine was mounted on a piece of wood.

  Libby glanced around. No one in sight.

  Her fingers awkward with hurry, Libby untied the blankets. Kneeling down, she pushed the wood base under the machine. When it moved to one side, she pulled up the hatch underneath. Quickly she tossed Pa’s blankets down the hole. With a thud they landed on the floor of the hull, five feet below.

  Just as quickly Libby closed the opening and pulled the machine back in place. As she stood up, she heard footsteps. Libby took her place next to Samson and started walking. A moment later Mr. Bates appeared.

  “Good morning, Miss Libby,” he said.

  “Good day, Mr. Bates,” Libby answered.

  “Up bright and early, aren’t you? Exercising your dog?”

  Libby gulped, remembering she should not lie.

  “See how he’s learning to mind me?” she asked instead. Telling Samson to stay, she walked toward the door that lead to the forward deck. There she turned and called.

  Samson came to her at once, and Libby kept walking. In spite of the cool morning she felt warm with nervousness.