She stood and stared at the closed door for a moment, wondering what those two were talking about. Was her poster the reason her friends weren’t talking to her? The door opened again, and Mr. Allenby greeted her with a cheerful smile. “You’re just the person I want to see.”
“I am?”
“Yes. Remember when we talked the other day and I told you I thought that escaped slaves had settled somewhere near here?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, I was right. And there’s a Black History Museum that documents the settlement near Collingwood. I told Miss Peabody about it, and she’s keen to plan a field trip to visit it.”
“Cool.”
“And I’ve got another book for you. It’s about quilts and how people used them to signal which houses along the Underground Railroad were safe.”
Felicia thanked the librarian and took the book with her. She started down the hall to class. As she passed the office, she and the principal almost collided. “Oops, sorry Mrs. Mackie.”
“That’s all right. We were both in a rush. Were you coming by to admire your project?”
Felicia smiled as they both turned their attention to the glass case beside the office door. Felicia stared in shock at her poster, slid the glass back, and reached in to remove it, wanting to lift it away before the principal could see it. She wasn’t quick enough.
“What on earth?” Mrs. Mackie touched Felicia’s hand, stopping it in midair. They both stood and looked at her work. At the top of the family tree, where Felicia had sketched a small portrait representing herself, was a photo clipped from a magazine. It showed a chimpanzee wearing a pink dress, grinning widely, showing every one of its teeth.
CHAPTER 33
Flower
THE SOUND of the owl came quite clearly the following night, four hoots and then silence. Eldon and Cleo were lying awake, but Flower struggled out of sleep, stood as the sack was tied on her back. The family gathered at the bottom of the slippery steps and looked down at the dark water.
Her father called quietly, “Hello. Anyone there?”
No one answered, but a flat-bottomed boat appeared below, and a hand reached up to assist Cleo with Gabriel, and then Flower, down into the boat. Eldon came next, and the craft moved forward. The night was dark and damp. Clouds scudded across the night sky, flying by the waning moon. Flower shivered and leaned up against her mother for warmth. The man managing the boat didn’t speak. He sat on the middle plank, an oar in each hand. The boat lurched with each sculling motion. As they headed up the river, it became a greater struggle.
Eldon said, “I can sit beside you and take the other oar. Two of us are better than one.”
“I guess. The wind is getting up, making it hard.” He moved to one side, and Eldon slipped onto the seat beside him, picking up an oar. They managed in this way for hours. Each time they stopped to catch their breath, the boat moved back, briefly canceling their efforts.
Just as the darkness began to ebb, the boatman said, “This is the place, and not too soon either.” The craft moved out of the current and into a quiet cove. “Quick now, before you’re seen.”
Eldon put down his oar, shook his companion’s hand. He stepped out into the shallows, assisted Cleo and the baby, and then carried Flower to the shore. “He’ll have an easier time going home,” said Eldon.
“Where are we?” asked Cleo.
They walked further into the bush, found a mossy spot surrounded by greenery, and sat down. Cleo pulled out the last biscuit and the remains of the fish. “We’ll have a little of this and save some for later,” she said.
“Maybe I can catch another,” said Flower. “Ned showed me how.”
“That would be good.” Cleo gazed at the new morning. “Such a sky.” The dawn light was a blaze of red, the glow reflecting on their faces.
“Take warning,” said Eldon.
“What?”
“A proverb I heard once. ‘Red sky at night, sailors’ delight; red sky at morning, sailors take warning.’”
“That sounds scary, Pa.”
Eldon didn’t acknowledge her fear. “I’ll scout out where we are and where we need to head next.”
“Let’s stay together,” said Cleo.
“I’ll return before you know it. You and Flower should look for some more fruit.”
They had difficulty finding fruit-bearing bushes. It was late in the season, and the birds and animals had taken their share. Cleo and Flower picked what they could and waited for Eldon to return. The red sky was transformed, now gun-metal gray; the wind set the bushes waving, sent leaves twisting through the air, then scuffing along the ground at their feet. They huddled together, Gabriel between them.
“Where’s that pa of yours? It’ll be raining next.”
By the time he arrived back, they were all soaking wet. Eldon led them to the shelter he had created. They lay beneath the slanted branches on cedar boughs and slept fitfully. Travel that night was made impossible by the relentless downpour. Thunder pounded around them, and shafts of lightning blasted the night darkness away.
It rained all the next day, becoming lighter late in the afternoon. “It’s time we set out again,” said Eldon.
“Oh, my bones are weary.” Cleo stood and arched her back before bending over and picking up her baby.
They continued their journey. Flower walked behind her father, trying to match her steps with his. It was difficult—the rain had created mud that sucked at their feet and stuck to their shoes, making them heavy and harder to lift. The stones and tree roots were slippery obstacles, causing them to slide and trip.
“Eldon, I must rest.” Cleo’s voice was strained with fatigue. They sank to the ground beneath a tree. Each took a turn drinking water from their crock, and Cleo fed Gabriel. “Let’s build us another shelter.”
“All right, we’ll stay for a bit, then try again.”
“Are we lost?”
“No. We can still see the river. But it’s better at night when we can follow the North Star.”
“Too many clouds anyhow.”
They got to their feet and started once more. Flower walked along, trying not to fall down. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Samuel. She imagined him struggling in the same direction. He would be afraid and alone. Maybe they would meet again and help each other. And Hettie—what would she be doing right at this moment? It felt like mealtime. Probably they were all sitting around the table, passing a basket of biscuits, spooning up warm soup. Flower almost cried out with hunger. She wanted something to eat, wished that her family was somewhere dry and safe, remembered the comfort of hay beneath her in a barn warmed by the bodies of farm animals. When her father stopped abruptly, she almost bumped into him.
“Is this the place?”
Eldon raised his hand for silence. They stood and looked at a cultivated field that bordered the forest. Several cows and two horses were grazing.
“The barn is red. Should it be red?”
“I don’t recall being told that.”
“Can we sleep in that barn, Pa?”
“Maybe. I have to find out. Stay quiet here and I’ll scout.”
“Don’t leave us.”
“I’ll be right back.”
CHAPTER 34
Felicia
FELICIA REMOVED the tacks from each corner of her poster, lifted it out of the case, and rolled it closed. As she turned to go, Mrs. Mackie stopped her.
“Wait. We have to deal with this.”
“I want to put it in my locker.”
“Not just yet. Let’s go to my office.”
Felicia had never been in the principal’s office before. It had a large desk covered with papers and a bookcase topped with framed family pictures. A window looked out through evergreen shrubs to the street. Mrs. Mackie talked to the secretary, then came in and sat down.
“When was the last time you saw your poster?”
“Yesterday, after school, before I went to the stable.”
“And did it have that picture on it?”
“No.”
“So, this probably just happened this morning.”
“I guess.”
“Which is good. It means maybe no one saw it. It’s too early.”
“Yeah.” It made Felicia feel better to know that a crowd of students hadn’t gathered to laugh and jeer at her work.
“Has anything else bad happened to you lately?”
Felicia moved the zipper up and down on her vest. “No. I’m fine.”
“I know this is very difficult for you, Felicia, but we can’t let an issue like this slip by without dealing with it.”
Felicia stared out the window. This is the end of living here. Mom’s going to lose her job, and I won’t be able to ride Star anymore.
Mrs. Mackie stood up and pushed back her chair. “Let’s go to your classroom. Bring your poster.”
“I don’t want anyone to see it now.”
“You’re right. Open it up. We’ll take off that horrid picture.” The operation was done quickly, like a bandage peeled away from a scrape. “There. It’s as good as new.” Mrs. Mackie scrunched the offending picture and tossed it into the garbage. “Let’s go.”
Back in the classroom, Miss Peabody’s usual smile faded when she saw their facial expressions. “Is something the matter?”
Mrs. Mackie spoke quietly to the teacher. “Felicia’s poster has been tampered with. We’ve removed it from the glass case and she’s put it away in her locker.”
“Your lovely poster. How terrible. What shall we do?”
Felicia knew everyone in the class was riveted, trying to hear what the principal and the teacher were saying. “I want to go to my desk.”
“Yes, of course, that’s fine.”
The principal and the teacher continued their whispered conversation as Felicia slipped into her seat. She pulled out a workbook and studied its blurred pages. A folded paper was taped to the inside of the back cover. Felicia opened the note and read:
Roses are red
Vilets are blue
No one rides a horse
As klutzy as you
There was a crude drawing of a scarecrow-like figure on a horse. It was signed ‘dodie.’ Felicia walked to the recycling bin and tore the note into little pieces.
The morning was a fog of grammar and geography. Just before lunch, Marie presented her family saga. She ended her presentation by passing around a tray of tiny cakes called petits gâteaux, and she described how she had made them the evening before, using her grandmother’s recipe.
After class Felicia decided to speak to Dodie, who was getting her lunch out of her locker. “Your note was really pathetic. I was going to correct the spelling and send it back to you, but I decided to rip it up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t act so innocent after all the mean things you’ve done.” Renate and Sophie walked up to Dodie, robbing Felicia of some of her confidence. But she persisted, “Especially ruining my poster.”
“I didn’t touch your poster or send you a note.”
“Well I got a nasty note this morning, and it was signed ‘Dodie.’”
“I got a note too,” said Sophie, “last week…from you, Felicia.”
“I never sent you a note, Sophie.”
“It was mean, too,” said Sophie.
“It wasn’t from me, really it wasn’t,” Felicia insisted.
“There was an ugly picture on it of me, too.”
“Do you still have it?”
“No, but Ashley said you must have done it ’cause you’re so good at art.”
“Ashley told me you didn’t like my poster.”
“What?”
“She said something about you and my poster.”
“I didn’t say anything about the poster.” The girls turned their attention to Ashley who was brushing her hair. “Did I, Ashley?”
Ashley gazed at her reflection in the mirror attached to her locker door. “Honestly! Can’t anyone take a joke?”
“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” said Felicia.
“I thought it was funny. We all had a good laugh watching you and your fellow geeky losers get so upset, didn’t we?” Ashley turned to the group of supporters surrounding her. They all shared the same satisfied smirk.
Felicia said, “I think you’re a little confused. You’re the loser.”
“Yeah!” added Renate.
“Yeah, you loser!” Sophie’s face was flaming red.
Ashley shrugged her shoulders, glanced once more at her mirror, and closed the locker door. Felicia turned and walked away.
CHAPTER 35
Flower
FLOWER WAITED in the trees with her mother and Gabriel. Rain came down from every angle, sliding off leaves and dripping from branches. They shivered with cold and fatigue. Her father was taking a long time.
Suddenly a dog barked, its sound straining and whining with excited urgency. Flower looked up at Cleo’s stricken face. “Ma?”
Cleo looked about her, frantic. “Run!”
They started to flee deeper into the forest. As before, their shoes stuck in the mud. It was an effort to lift each foot. Cleo stumbled and fell to the ground. Gabriel started to scream.
Flower helped her mother to her feet, gripping her hand as they stumbled over stones and tree roots, slipping and sliding, making hardly any progress. “Hurry. Hurry.” Flower’s command was whispered, like a prayer. Now they could hear the voices of men, their words indistinct but threatening. The sound of barking dogs was getting louder—agitated, impatient.
Cleo fell again. She looked up at her daughter and said, “Go on. Run away, while you can.”
Flower stood suspended in time, saw men approaching them.
“Run! Run!”
She turned and scrambled between trees, up a hill. She could hear heavy footsteps behind her, a voice panting and cursing. A hand grabbed at her climbing foot. Flower kicked back and made contact.
“Ow! You little devil.” She could hear him fall backward down the slope. Flower continued on until she reached the top of the hill. She hid in a bush, shaking and short of breath. She clasped her knees and buried her face in her skirt.
The voice moved away. “There’s still one more. Where’s the dogs when we need ’em?”
Flower shivered. The dogs would easily find her. Where could she be safe? Not in a bush. She crept out of her hiding place and looked down. Peering from behind a large rock, she saw her mother surrounded by three men. They were grabbing at her and shouting. Flower’s decision was immediate and instinctive. She stumbled and scraped her way back, slid down the muddy slope, threaded her way through stands of trees and drizzling rain, back to Cleo. She threw herself against her mother, encircled that thin body with desperation and love.
The men were jubilant. “We’ve got her! We’ve got the last one.”
Flower was pulled away, her hands roughly tied behind her back, another rope around her middle, connecting her to Cleo. They were pushed and prodded, like herded cattle, back along the muddy track. The people at the farmhouse cheered as Cleo and Flower were brought back. The words weren’t clear, just the roar of triumph.
Flower walked behind Cleo and focused on her bound hands and on Gabriel, curled within his sling, his face pressed against his mother’s back. When they reached the drive, she saw her father, trussed with rope, lying on the ground.
Someone kicked him. Flower squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still hear the sound of boots thudding against Eldon’s body, his groans, her mother’s screams for them to stop. One of the men raised a threatening hand to Cleo but didn’t strike her. He gave Eldon another kick.
“Yeah, that’ll teach him.”
“Know your place, boy.”
“What’ll we do with this lot?”
A woman’s voice, “That one with the babe looks strong enough, the girl too. I could do with some help here.”
“No. Take them to town. Let the sheriff look after it.”
“Slaves are worth a lot of money. We could collect something if we return them to their master.”
“Tracking down the owner sounds like a lot of trouble. Let’s have our own sale.”
“Good idea.”
“They still need to be taken to town. Let’s get this one on his feet.” Eldon was pulled up from the ground, another rope lashed around his middle.
“Where’s the wagon?”
“Coming.” A wooden wagon harnessed with one horse pulled up in front of the house. Eldon, Cleo with Gabriel slung to her back, and Flower were tied in a row behind it. The driver flicked the whip, and the horse started forward. Flower fell to the ground with the sudden motion. She could hear laughter as she struggled awkwardly to her feet.
One voice was sympathetic. “She’s just a little girl.”
“Hah! That one gave me a kick. She needs to learn a lesson.”
The wagon moved forward again, and the family stumbled behind it. Flower was pushed to keep up. On the road, the horse started to trot, and Flower fell again, scraping her face. The horse’s gait was kept to a walk, but after a while, Cleo fell with Gabriel, and then Flower again. The driver stopped and stepped down from the wagon. He allowed Cleo and the children to ride, but Eldon was made to follow behind for another hour. Flower couldn’t look at her struggling father. She tried to block out what was happening to him with prayer, but the words were jumbled in her mind.
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