Morning Star

by Judith Plaxton

  The screen glowed with a vibrant mass of color. In the midst of the blossoms, an oval pond collected water, which cascaded down into it over a wall of rock. There was a collective “ooh” from the class. Sally also had a pair of wooden shoes, called klompen. Everyone wanted to try them on.

  Felicia started to worry about what her own story would be like. She couldn’t think of something her classmates might want to see, like the shoes, and she wasn’t sure if her family had differences that made them interesting.

  After school Felicia came home to an empty house. Florence had started playing bridge with the neighbors every other Thursday afternoon. The television sat silently in its corner, and nothing simmered on the stove. Felicia settled at the kitchen table and unrolled the poster she had begun working on the night before. The painted tree filled up the whole space. It had a substantial trunk with graceful limbs that extended into finer branches and feathery leaves. She’d started to add miniature duplicates of her great-aunt’s still life painting and the military medal. The poster looked good, but now she needed to think about how to present her family history. Her first thought was of her father, a shadowy figure, gone from her life before she was old enough to know him. A memory emerged of him sitting in a chair supported by pillows, almost too fragile to be approached by his rambunctious toddler, Felicia. No one would want to hear about that.

  What else? She stood and walked to the fridge, poured a glass of milk and mounded cookies on a plate, sat again, rapped her pen against the pad, and stared down at the books Mr. Allenby had given her.

  She started to turn pages, glancing at pictures and reading what was written under them. This was a history that she didn’t know much about. Words jumped off the page: sad, work, hard, Africa, slave, chain. She pictured her ancestors barefoot, needing a bath, sweaty and dusty, frightened, resentful, exhausted, toiling in fields while their owners sat in the shade fanning themselves and sipping cool cocktails. She thought of the many white faces in her class. Would they really want to hear about that?

  Time to get started. Felicia knew her great-grandfather was a porter on trains. That meant he wore a uniform and helped people with their luggage. But her grandmother had told her that he had helped organize a union, so he must have been smart and brave. She started to write.

  CHAPTER 27

  Flower

  DR. SIMON FOLLOWED Wilfred into the house. The smaller children swarmed around them. The doctor patted each head, then raised his hand in greeting to the rest. He approached Mr. Jenson and squeezed his patient’s hand in a gesture of reassurance, then lifted away the cloth covering the wound. “Good, good. I see small signs of healing.”

  “Really?” Mr. Jenson’s eyes brightened.

  “Thank you, Doctor!” exclaimed his wife. “Please sit down and join us for tea. The kettle is already on the stove and starting to boil.”

  The others settled at the table as she sliced bread.

  “Tea will cure my thirsty throat,” said Dr. Simon. He glanced at Gabriel. “How fares my other patient?”

  Gabriel, seated in Flower’s lap, looked up at Dr. Simon and began to wail. Cleo lifted him into her arms. “He seems well. Thank you, doctor.”

  “Coughing or fever?”

  “No longer. And he eats well.”

  “Good…good.”

  Eldon asked, “How is Samuel?”

  “His wound is also improving.”

  “What good news!”

  Dr. Simon frowned. “I have bad news, too, I’m afraid.” Flower’s bread suddenly felt mealy in her mouth. She swallowed with difficulty and looked across the table at her father as the doctor said, “You must leave here.”

  “Slave catchers?” asked Eldon.

  “Yes. We’ve been told they’re on the move. Samuel has left us. We pray for him, and for you.” He set his mug on the table. “I need to pass on information for the coming journey.” Eldon, Cleo, and the doctor stepped outside. Flower stood in the doorway holding her brother in her arms. She saw her father bend his head, his ear close to Dr. Simon’s mouth. Cleo frowned and nodded, her lips sometimes moving, intent on memorization.

  Hettie asked her mother, “Can’t Flower stay here with us?”

  Flower turned back into the house. “No! I must be with my own Ma and Pa!”

  “I don’t want her to go.”

  “Stop talking nonsense. You two go outside and keep an eye on the boys.”

  Flower and Hettie sat together on the porch. “I wish you could stay here.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Will you remember me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want to give you something.” Hettie plucked a tiny yellow flower growing along the path, and she handed it to Flower. “Keep this. Whenever you look at it, you can think of me, your friend Hettie.”

  “And when you see the flowers growing here again, you can think of me, your friend Flower.”

  The girls helped Flower’s father and Wilfred carry as much hay as they could to the barn, and then Mrs. Jenson called everyone in for a hastily prepared meal. Eldon ate quickly, excused himself from the table, and went back to the barn. He returned with a crutch he had fashioned from a tree branch.

  “Aren’t you a wonder?” Mr. Jenson grasped the crutch and pulled himself up to a sitting position, then swung his legs out from under the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed, short of breath with his efforts. Flower was alarmed with the noises he made, until she realized he was laughing. “Isn’t that somethin’?” He hung his head and closed his eyes. “A little dizzy, but it’ll pass.” He struggled to his feet, stood up, and placed the support under one arm.

  “Needs more rubbing to make it smooth,” said Eldon. “I’d hoped to finish sanding it before we left.”

  “I can do that.” The lame man took a few hesitant steps then returned to the cot. “Thank you.”

  “What a wonderful sight.” His wife dabbed at teary eyes with her apron. “I was so afraid I’d never see you walk again.” She turned to Eldon. “Thank you for all your efforts. And now I have to pack a few things for you to take with you. We’ll miss you and your family.”

  Mrs. Jenson put a few biscuits, dried fruit, and a crock of water into a sack for Eldon to carry. Gabriel was once again settled in his sling, and everyone came out onto the porch to say good-bye. Hettie started to cry. Flower stood dry-eyed between her parents. Her father held one hand and her mother the other. They stepped off the porch and began to walk up the lane to the road.

  CHAPTER 28

  Felicia

  FELICIA FIDGETED in her seat. Miss Peabody talked on. Soon the teacher would introduce her, and Felicia would have to stand at the front of the class and present the story of her family. She continued to make notes, half listening, and rerehearsed her talk. After the homework had been assigned, Miss Peabody said, “Time for another project. Felicia?”

  “I just have to get something from my locker.”

  “Very well.”

  Felicia stood up too quickly and dropped a book on the floor. She ignored the few giggles as she retrieved it.

  Felicia taped her poster to the front board and turned to address the class. She swallowed hard and introduced herself. A door opened. Mrs. Mackie came in and sat at the back of the room. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’ve heard these presentations are interesting. I thought I’d come and hear one.”

  Felicia started again. “My grandmother’s family came up to Canada from Virginia in the 1800s. I don’t know exactly when, but I know it was before the American Civil War, which started in 1861. I’ve been researching the Underground Railroad. It wasn’t a real train. It w
as a way for people to escape from slavery—they would hide in one house and rest for a bit, then they would be told how to find the next hiding place. They had to memorize the directions and look for clues along the way—a nail in the trunk of a tree, or maybe a group of trees near a bend in a river. Every house they reached was like a train station on the way to Canada. It was very hard and dangerous to make the journey, and a lot of people didn’t make it, but my ancestors did.

  “I don’t know very much about my relatives who came here first because it was so long ago, and we don’t have any records. But I painted this poster with portraits of the relatives I do know about. My great-great-great-great-grandpa was a blacksmith, and his son was a furniture maker. He made really good things. My Aunt Vi still has one of the chairs he made. His oldest son was a soldier in the First World War. He belonged to a special unit called the No. 2 Construction Battalion. They did all kinds of things. They rebuilt roads and bridges after they’d been damaged. He got killed, and the government sent our family a medal. My grandma still has it, but she said it was too precious for me to bring to school, so I’ve painted what it looks like here on the poster. My great-grandpa also wore a uniform, but he wasn’t a soldier. He worked for the railway, and he helped organize a union so they’d get better wages.”

  Her classmates began to ask questions. Jack wanted to know all about the war medal. Miss Peabody stood up from her desk and peered at the artwork.

  “This is really beautiful. I think the whole class should come closer to see it.”

  Felicia’s classmates stood in line, admiring the painted tree, the extended branches adorned with a collage of paint, newsprint, calligraphy, and fabric, and the tiny painted portraits.

  “Why are there faces in these tiny leaves? It looks like they’re falling away.”

  “My grandma’s aunt and uncle lost their two little daughters to scarlet fever. That’s supposed to be them.”

  Renate pointed to one branch. “This looks like a painting of a painting.”

  “My great-aunt was an artist. My grandma didn’t want me to bring the real painting, so I made a miniature copy of it.”

  Mrs. Mackie said, “I think the whole school would enjoy seeing this. Do you mind, Felicia, if we put it in the glass case outside the office, just for a few days?”

  “Um, sure, okay.” Felicia returned to her desk. She could hardly wait to go home after school and tell her mother and grandmother every detail of her presentation.

  CHAPTER 29

  Flower

  FLOWER DIDN'T look back. She knew she would just see unhappy faces. It seemed they were always saying sad good-byes and leaving safe places for the unknown. The image of Aunty Lizzie’s kind, loving face creased with grief was etched in her memory. Flower wondered if she would ever see her again and hoped that Aunty would run away, too, and follow them to freedom.

  Her parents chanted memorized directions to each other as they walked along.

  “A half-day on this road…”

  “Follow the brook until it widens…”

  “Past the marsh with the burned-out trees…”

  They walked in a ditch, through tangles of weeds, trying to stay hidden. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, they moved into a grove of trees beside the road.

  “I don’t know if I should sit down,” said Cleo with a sigh. “I’m afraid I won’t have the wherewithal to get up again.” She gave Gabriel a sip of water from the crock, had one herself, and passed it to Flower.

  “Can we eat now?” asked Flower.

  “A little.” Cleo broke a biscuit into four pieces.

  “Is this all?”

  Cleo frowned, but before she could speak, Eldon said “Hush.”

  “What is it?”

  “Don’t you hear that?”

  “No!”

  “No need for fear. It’s a good sound, running water.”

  “The brook?”

  “I’ll go and see.” Eldon disappeared farther into the trees. He returned with a smile. “That’s it. We follow it north.”

  The water was low. Flower hopped from stone to stone while her parents picked their way, choosing flat rocks when they could. The brook emptied into a wetland, remnants of blackened trees jutting up from it at odd angles. The ground became soggy underfoot, slowing their pace, and thorns and branches sometimes caught them in the face.

  Eldon stopped abruptly, his hand raised. Far ahead was a dark building, set back among tall trees. “Wait here. I’ll go ahead to see if it’s safe.”

  He returned within a few minutes. “This is the place. Follow close behind me. There’s a small river up ahead.”

  The sound of water became louder as they approached the building. A door hung on rusty hinges. It creaked as Eldon swung it open. They stumbled through it into a large open space, found a corner beneath a broken window, and sat, their legs giving way beneath them. Cleo nursed Gabriel as they ate their meal. Then they leaned against each other in an exhausted heap and slept.

  Flower awoke to the sound of squeaks and chirps. She lifted her head from her mother’s lap and looked up. The ceiling was high and beamed, the wooden supports meeting at a peak in the center.

  “Ma, look at those strange birds. See how they get inside their wings. Some of them are hanging upside down.”

  Cleo made a face. “Those aren’t birds, they’re bats.”

  “Do they bite?”

  Eldon said, “No. They’re useful creatures. They eat the bugs that bite us.”

  Cleo stretched and yawned, handing Gabriel to her daughter. “I’m so stiff. I feel as if I’ve aged a hundred years.”

  Eldon was up and investigating their new quarters. “Come outside. We’ll sit in the sun and have our meal, warm our bones at the same time.”

  Flower said, “I miss sleeping in the barn.”

  “The straw was a comfort beneath us,” agreed Eldon, “and the animals gave heat. When we get free, I’ll build us our own house, and you’ll have your own bed.”

  “Can we get straw here, Pa?”

  “I don’t think so. We’ll find pine boughs and maybe some moss.”

  “What is this place?” Flower stepped outside onto a platform. Water flowed beside and underneath it, creating a rushing waterfall that eddied into a circle below.

  “Stay clear of the edge!”

  Flower stepped back. “Yes, Pa.” A glance at the swirling water made her dizzy.

  “Mind your brother. Let your Ma have some more sleep. I’ll come back soon.”

  What if something bad happened and he never returned? “Where are you going?”

  “Do as you’re asked, daughter.”

  Flower came back into the building to see her mother wrap her shawl tight around herself. She fell asleep on the floor. Flower didn’t think her father would mind if she took the baby out where it was warm. She set Gabriel on the ground and rolled a pinecone back and forth in front of him. He lifted it to his mouth and started to chew, so Flower threw it back into the bush, causing him to cry with frustration.

  “Shush now. I’ll sing you a song about an angel named Gabriel. He had wings, and he could fly wherever he wanted.” Gabriel fell asleep, heavy in her arms. She came back inside, laid him beside his mother, then stood and looked out the window.

  A figure moved in the trees. Flower looked carefully. It wasn’t her father.

  CHAPTER 30

  Felicia

  FELICIA TOLD her family all about the success of her school project, the poster now featured in a glass case just outside the office.

  “All that hard work paid of
f,” said Florence.

  “I think I’ll pop into the school tomorrow and have a look at it,” said Delia. “Maybe I’ll bring my camera. You could stand in front of it, Felicia. I wonder if the glass might create some glare.”

  “Mom, please don’t come to school with your camera.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it would be grossly embarrassing.”

  “Why are your mother’s actions so often embarrassing?” Delia said, not really expecting an answer.

  “I’m going to wait until she brings it home,” said Florence.

  The next day, Felicia’s friends didn’t wait for her at lunch, and they didn’t look up when she joined them with her sandwich.

  “Are you going to watch the lunchtime play rehearsal?”

  “Maybe,” said Dodie.

  “Dunno,” said Renate.

  Sophie didn’t reply, avoiding Felicia’s glance by looking at the table.

  “I’ve got some brownies. My grandma made them. They’re really yummy. Want some?” Felicia unwrapped the squares.

  Only Dodie took one, with a muttered “thanks.”

  Before Felicia had finished her lunch, the three others scrunched their wrappings for the garbage and stood up together. “Going to the play,” said Renate. They walked away, leaving Felicia alone. The library offered a place to read, so Felicia stayed there, feeling bad and flipping through magazines until it was time to return to class.

  Josh caught up with her in the hallway. “How come you didn’t come and watch us?” he asked.

  Felicia felt grateful for his awkward interest in her. At least someone missed her.

  “I had some reading to do in the library.”

  “Can you come tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  After school, the four girls walked to the stable, Felicia frequently two steps behind. “Do you want to come to my place after riding and see the kitten? He’s growing really fast; he’s all fluffy and so cute.”