by Anita Kopacz
Night seems to take forever to fall. I grip the sides of the chair and easily crush the moist wood into a splintery pulp. I must contain my emotions to avoid destroying the entire contraption before nightfall. The temperature begins to drop as the sun sets. Fortunately, I am accustomed to frigid waters.
As soon as darkness turns the river into a womb, I see a vision of Obatala as a boy. This time he is not cutting me out of a fishing net but instead breaking the ropes that bind my hands and hold me to the chair. He frees me. My wrists have been rubbed raw by the once-unyielding knots. I look at the surface and see a blurry image of Tillie squinting at me. I swim to the riverbank and pull myself out. Tillie suppresses a shriek of delight, and we embrace, cradling each other for a long time.
“Look!” She pulls away and waves a small piece of paper before my eyes. “Look what I found in my uncle’s library!”
My freedom certificate!
“I searched for hours after that dreadful dunking.” She passes me the paper.
“I can’t believe you found it!”
“Asé,” a voice says from behind the bushes.
Seven Africans emerge, including the wild-haired man who led us to the ceremony last night.
“We are coming with you,” he says.
Tillie looks up, startled and confused. The group waits in the distance as I speak to her.
I shrug and say, “We are in this together.”
Slightly panicked, Tillie says, “I have to get my aunt. Follow the North Star and head up the river. We’ll meet you where the river splits. We’ll be there in an hour’s time.”
“Be careful,” I plead.
Tillie looks at me, smirks, and says, “When am I not careful?”
We smile. I know that Tillie can take care of herself. She runs off toward the house.
The man who led us last night walks up to me and shakes my hand. “I do not believe we have formally met. I am Frederick. We don’t have time to explain everything now, but I already have a plan. I know where we’re going.” I smile at him and nod my approval.
He hands me a small bundle of clothing and says, “Here are some dry clothes for you to wear on the journey.” Without thinking, I pull the soaking-wet dress over my head, drop it to the ground, and stand naked before him. He looks utterly shocked, so I pull the underclothes on quickly and step into the dress.
“Frederick, can you gather everyone who is coming with us? We must leave right away.”
He nods and turns to the others. I search for a secure place to put my freedom certificate. The medicine pouch around my neck seems like the best bet. I fold the paper into a small rectangle and slip it in the leather bag. I look up to see a woman with an infant tied to her back with a wine-colored wrap. She is the first to approach me after Frederick briefs them on our plan.
“I am Sadie. Godmother told me to let you know that she must stay with the rest of the slaves. She also wants you to know that you have brought her the salvation she prayed for. I am her daughter, and this is her grandson, Mayan.” She caresses her son’s back as she says his name.
“I’m glad to hear that your mother has survived. How did she know that I had not drowned?”
“Because you are Yemaya, the Goddess of the Sea.”
Next, a young girl who looks to be the same age as Ozata runs up and almost shouts, “Yemaya.” She hugs me and says, “I’m Emily.”
I hug this charming, energetic child back, and I remember my love for Ozata. I realize that Tillie’s aunt probably renamed most of the slaves.
Margaret, who is standing near Sadie, says, “Miss Yemaya, I would never miss the opportunity to be your disciple.”
“Margaret, I’m happy you’re here.”
As if on cue, three men march over to me. Although their ages vary, they are all in top physical condition. The eldest speaks first. “We’ve been sent to protect you on this journey. The man over yonder is Frederick.”
“Yes,” I say, nodding, “we met.”
“He’s very intelligent. He reads and makes smart decisions. This here is Crooks,” he says, pointing to the man in the middle. I recognize him as the brawny man I threw the gun to. “He is our strongest hand. Not much going on upstairs, but he has a mighty muscle.”
Crooks takes a step forward and says, “Don’t listen to him, I’m fine in my brain.” He pulls the gun from behind his back and shows it to me with a proud smile.
The youngest of the three men introduces himself. “Asé, Yemaya, I am Clementine. Samuel’s firstborn.”
Clementine is clad in trousers, a button-up shirt, and boots. I thought she was one of the men. Her mannerisms match those of her male counterparts.
“Asé,” I respond, and turn to her father. “So, you must be Samuel.”
“I am, but I think we best be on our way.”
“What will happen to the others we leave behind?” I ask.
“They have made their choice to stay. May we be in God’s favor, and they as well. At least the master believes you’re dead.”
Frederick leads the group through the dense forest next to the river to keep us hidden. The wolf and the owl create an eerie melody over the steady rhythm of the crickets and bullfrogs. The forest seems to come alive during the hours of darkness.
Young Emily grips my hand as we forge forward. She is obviously scared. We are in danger, but I squeeze her hand and whisper, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here with you.”
“Will they send the dogs?” she whispers back.
“Yes,” Frederick quietly retorts, “so keep your voice down.”
“Dogs?” I question.
“Yes,” he repeats. “We’ll have to walk in the river so they can’t track us. We should go now.” He ushers our small group to the river. Emily hesitates as she dips her foot in the water.
“You’ll be fine,” I assure her as I pick her up and carry her in.
She wraps her short legs around my waist and her skinny arms clasp my neck. “Are there any monsters in the river?”
“None in the river,” I insist.
I hold her tight as we continue upstream. As usual, the water has imbued me with strength enough to carry all of our group. I can hear the river swelling in the distance. I pass Emily to Crooks and walk up to Frederick.
“I am going to swim ahead to check out that noise.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, stay here with the rest. They need you.”
He would surely slow me down. I dive in and forge forward. The current quickens as I approach the source of the sound. I rush past a blur of rocks and water plants and leave behind a tunnel of minuscule bubbles as I speed ahead, undaunted by the current’s resistance. Two different temperatures of water seem to mingle here. I raise my head above water and spot where the river splits up ahead.
“Yes!” I say aloud.
I swim back to let the others know that we’ve nearly reached our rendezvous point.
“What was it?” Frederick asks.
“It’s where the river splits,” I eagerly respond.
“Let’s get there, then,” Frederick commands with enthusiasm. “We will take the right fork, to the north, to get to our first stop before daybreak.”
Emily’s teeth chatter in the frigid air. Although I can move freely, the others are struggling against the growing current and the dropping temperature.
“How much longer?” Emily asks.
I take her back from Crooks and hold her on my shoulders above the water. The night air is humid and warm compared to the river. Emily should fare better up there. The others trudge forward without complaint.
Frederick turns toward me and asks, “About how far up was the split?”
“We should be there soon.”
After about a mile of pressing through the current, we reach the split.
“I think we’re safe to stop and wait for Tillie on the other side of the river,” I say. “Everyone seems to be cold.”
“Tillie?” he asks.
&n
bsp; “Yes, she and her aunt are meeting us here. They’ll travel with us. They’ll be here soon.”
Frederick nods. I can see his uncertainty, but he doesn’t question me.
We climb onto the marshy banks of the river. It is nearly a new moon, so the thin crescent provides a minimal amount of light. Our eyes have adjusted to the night, and I can see that there are no large or threatening animals nearby.
“I guess we just wait,” Samuel says.
“Let’s hide in that grove of trees over there until they arrive,” Frederick says.
We each find a spot to rest, except for Emily, who skips around as everyone reminds her to quiet down.
Branches crackle and everyone freezes. Emily whispers loudly, “It’s a dog!”
“Shhhh,” Frederick commands as a lone coyote pokes its nose into the grove of trees. He sniffs, freezes, and lopes back the way he came. Emily giggles as the rest of us exhale with relief.
“Hey, Emily,” Frederick whispers, “have you ever heard about the people who could fly?”
Emily’s eyes light up. “No!”
“If you keep your voice down,” Frederick explains, “I’ll tell you the tale.”
Frederick commands the attention of the entire group. When he speaks, people listen. Sadie unties the scarf from around her back and begins to breastfeed her child. The boy has been so quiet that I almost forgot he’s with us.
Frederick begins:
Once, in a land far, far away, there lived a tribe of people who could fly. They were a proud and magical group. They had invisible wings that enabled their miraculous feat. Nobody doubted magic in their tribe, so they were free to explore the supernatural. One fateful day, these mystical people were taken away from their motherland and forced onto slave ships. The crew that enslaved them could not see the tribe’s invisible wings, so when they packed them into the ships, they jammed them so tight that all of the people lost their wings. That was only the beginning of their misery.
Once they arrived in the new land, they were taken to a plantation. They worked alongside other slaves who knew nothing of their magic. It almost seemed as if the tribe had forgotten who they really were. One day, a young woman, exhausted from the day’s work, asked the medicine woman of the tribe to use her magic to grow back their wings. The medicine woman said, “We have toiled long enough. It is time to return to our magic, our life force.” As she conjured her ancient magic, she and the other tribespeople sprouted their wings and soared away from the plantation. The other slaves watched in awe. They passed the story of the people who could fly down through the generations.
Emily yawns. “Could the people really fly?”
“That’s what they say,” Frederick says, smiling.
Although the story is meant for Emily, we know that Frederick wanted to share it with us, too.
“It’s been well over an hour,” Clementine says in a nervous tone.
“I am aware of that,” I say, searching for any sign of Tillie.
“We will have to get moving again soon,” Samuel adds. “The night is our cover.”
Where is she?
“We can set off in ten minutes,” I say.
I pass Emily to Margaret and walk toward the stream. Something must be amiss. Tillie should have been here a while ago. The night is quiet, too quiet. It feels like the calm before the storm.
I hear footsteps in the distance across the river. I squint my eyes. Suddenly I hear a bark. The dogs have arrived! I rush back to the group. “They’ll be here soon! We must move!”
I grab Emily and turn to run upstream.
“Wait!” Frederick commands. “We won’t get far if the dogs are already here. You take the group up the right fork of the river, and I’ll run on foot up the banks of the left side. The dogs will follow my scent.”
We are all silent.
“There is no time to hesitate; you must hurry. If you stay the course, by daybreak you’ll find a cave where you can hide. A man will meet you there tomorrow night; he’ll lead you to the next safe place.” Frederick is about to continue with his directions when the barking is suddenly a great deal closer.
“No,” Margaret cries, “we must stick together.”
Frederick has no time to respond. He takes off and races along the bank of the left fork.
I gather everyone else. We run to the water and plunge in. Frederick is well out of sight, but we can hear the dogs in pursuit. Instinctively, we fall into a train-like formation, holding one another’s waists. I lead us toward the right fork. The current is strong, so I tell Sadie, who is gripping my waist, “Hold on tight. Pass the message back.”
She quietly delivers the message down the line as we fight the force of the river, trudging upstream. Emily is clinging to me as she did before. We take the right fork, and the waters become easier to navigate. We wade silently along.
12
THE FAMILIAR
We walk and wade and trudge, pushing past our limits multiple times throughout the night. But, sure enough, just as the rising sun threatens to expose us, I see the cave Frederick told us about up ahead, near the riverbank.
“We can rest here for the day,” I say as I lead the group out of the water.
We crawl up the steep bank, slippery with wet rocks and moss. I hold Sadie’s hand to help her up the hill. The cave sits at the entrance to the forest. I usher the group in before I enter with Emily, who is asleep with her head on my shoulder. As I sit down, she mumbles, “Where’s Frederick?”
“Hush, child,” I answer. “Go to sleep.”
She drifts back into her dreams. I am in no shape to explain our loss. I have sacrificed too much. I’ve lost my parents, my home, my beautiful tail, Richard, Tillie, Frederick, and maybe even Obatala. Will we ever hold each other again? Is he still alive? I make a promise to myself that everyone with me now will arrive at our destination. I cannot bear another loss.
Crooks volunteers to stand guard for the day.
“Are you not tired?” I ask.
“I don’t need much sleep, ma’am.”
I marvel at the strength and courage of my small crew. I’m beyond exhausted and finally succumb to sleep, feeling safe for the first time in many days.
When I awaken to the brilliant morning sunshine a few hours later, I realize that this cave is the one Ozata and I shared weeks ago. There are small carvings on the wall that she made while we were here. I touch the medicine pouch around my neck. Miraculously, it is still intact.
Everyone is asleep, so I tiptoe to the mouth of the cave, where I see Crooks leaning against the wall.
“Ain’t no trouble following us, I can tell you that. Or else they would’ve been here by now.”
“Why don’t you get some sleep, then,” I suggest. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he says as he bends to enter the cave.
I walk over to a large boulder. I recognize it, and I trace the jagged edge I’d crumbled when I was here with Ozata. I hold the pouch again, seeking the wisdom of Cora’s tribe. I hear her whisper in my ear, “Follow the path of the familiar.”
“What does that mean?” I question aloud.
The chirping birds are the only answers I hear. Splashes of water from the river sprinkle my face. I hold my pouch in my hand and head down to the water. There is a flat rock that bids me welcome, with a perfect place on it to sit. I wash my face in the river and regain my strength.
The others sleep for most of the day. The water has taken a toll on their systems. Sadie’s infant wakes up for his feeding and falls straight back to sleep. As they awaken, I tell them about Richard and that his house is a stop on the Underground Railroad. Although they are hesitant to show their excitement, they share a look of relief.
“I’m hungry,” Emily complains.
“I know, dear,” I say to comfort her. “There will be plenty of food tonight.”
Clementine pulls out an apple from her bag. “Here, eat this.”
Emily jumps up and grabs
the sweet fruit. “My favorite!”
“My tree bore fruit for the first time only days before we left. I have more we can share.” She pulls out three more apples and passes them around. Each person takes a bite and gives the succulent fruit to the next person. Inexplicably, the apples satisfy our hunger.
Margaret even stops before the apple is finished. “I am full, thank you.”
Emily stares at me. “What do you think happened to Frederick?”
I scan the faces of our group, but they stare back, waiting to hear my answer.
“I’m sure he escaped.”
Emily jumps for joy. “I knew it! I knew it!”
The others are silent.
Samuel walks to the mouth of the cave and checks out the surrounding scene. “The sun is starting to set. We should get our things together, so we’re ready to go when the man comes to get us.”
I walk over and join him.
“God protect us,” he prays as he turns toward me.
The night air is crisp. Thankfully, we do not have to travel by water tonight. The group would not be able to withstand the chill of the river.
“I’m ready,” Emily says, grabbing my hand.
As the sun sinks and the forest disappears in the darkness, we decide to walk toward Richard’s house, rather than wait for the man Fredrick told us about here. I can’t help but wonder what Sara will say.
We fall into our previous formation and walk out of the cave in a single file. I lead the group through the forest. We pass a split tree that I remember seeing when Richard was carrying me in his arms. I am reassured that we are going in the right direction. We should be close to the main road soon. I turn to check on my group. They appear well rested and ready for the journey. Crooks brings up the back of the line, and his muscles seem to pulsate with each step he takes, daring any danger to confront us.
Margaret walks deep in silent prayer or contemplation. The men are scattered throughout the line. Sadie cradles her son close to her bosom. As usual, Mayan is quiet and content.
We walk toward the main road, careful to stay in the thick of the trees. As we approach the dusty path, I veer right to continue in the direction of Richard’s estate. Lightning bugs dart around us, as if the stars have descended to guide us.