Shallow Waters

by Anita Kopacz

  Emily jumps to catch the fiery flies. She is intrigued by their glowing tails. They remind me of shimmering jellyfish surrounded by their halos of light as they bob and dance in the depths of the sea. Emily pulls me out of my reverie by reaching for my hand.

  “Where’s your ma?” she asks.

  “My mother is in heaven.”

  Emily bows her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Have I not told you of my journey?”

  “No,” Emily says with excited expectation.

  “I left my life and all that I knew in the waters that kiss the western coast of a great and faraway land called Africa.”

  “Oh! Is that where the people who can fly are from?”

  “Yes, and it is also where your ancestors are from.”

  Emily giggles and skips close beside me, leaning in to hear my whispered tale.

  “I left the ocean because I fell in love with a fisherman. He was gentle and strong all at the same time. I followed him to this new world.”

  “Is he Obatala?” Emily asks.

  I freeze as she utters his name. “Yes, Obatala. Do you know him?”

  Emily smiles coyly and sings, “No, but I know you and Obatala have many children.”

  “I have never had a child.”

  “Well then,” she says as she crosses her arms, “you just haven’t reached that part of the story yet.”

  We hear galloping horses approaching in the distance. Emily and I drop down as I signal the rest of the group to lower themselves and hide in the brush. As the horses near our location, Sadie’s baby begins to wail. She attempts to calm him, but the damage has already been done.

  The lead rider stops his horse just ahead of us. He tries to peer through the dense foliage, and even though he cannot see us, Mayan has already given us away. The rider steers the horse into the forest. The beating of my heart seems louder than the boy’s screams. Every bone in my body wants to run, but I cannot leave anyone behind.

  “Yemaya? Yemaya?” the rider shouts as he slides off his horse. “It’s me, Richard.”

  I stand up, surrendering to his protection. “You found us,” I whisper with relief. “How did you know it was me?”

  He looks at the others, who are all slowly standing. “I was looking for you. Didn’t Frederick tell you?”

  “He didn’t have a chance. He said a man would meet us at the cave, and I thought it might be you, but I wasn’t sure.”

  “Where is he?”

  “We heard dogs, and he ran away from us to make them follow his scent instead of ours.”

  Richard nods gravely and says, “He’s very smart. I imagine he figured out how to evade them. The entire county is looking for you. There is a sketch in the paper of you. They are offering a hefty reward. It says you are an African witch.”

  He pauses, awaiting some reaction, but we remain silent.

  “Come,” he continues, “I will explain more when we get to the house.”

  We follow him to the carriage. Richard instructs us all to climb inside. We have to sit on the floor and on top of one another.

  “I’m sorry it’s so cramped, but it won’t be long, and we can’t afford for any of you to be seen.”

  There are four other men with Richard. His butler drives the carriage, and three others are on horses. One of them leads the pack, and the other two protect us from behind.

  We arrive at Richard’s estate within minutes. His butler opens the carriage door and we practically tumble out before he can help us. Richard takes my arm and leads me across the lawn toward his house as the others follow behind.

  “Is Sara here?” I whisper in his ear.

  “No. I sent her up north.”

  A sense of relief settles throughout my body. We walk to the back of the house.

  “I prepared a space in the cellar for you. I don’t want to take any chances. Everyone is looking for you,” Richard emphasizes.

  The butler lifts the cellar door open to reveal a staircase obscured by darkness. He grabs his lantern and balances it over the opening. The light flickers, creating the illusion of dancing shadows on the walls. Unbroken cobwebs frame the doorway. I walk toward the stairs with Richard.

  “It won’t be like your last room, but it will do. I’ll have the cook prepare some meals.”

  “Thank you, Richard.”

  We all duck to avoid the sticky cobwebs as we follow the butler down the stairs.

  I glance back at Richard. The punishment for hiding runaway slaves must be severe. He is risking his life for us.

  The cellar is cold and damp, and the moisture in the air is thick, infusing my body with strength.

  “It’s scary in here,” Emily says, breaking the silence.

  Richard crouches down to her level and says sweetly, “I’ll bring lanterns full of oil for you. You are safe here.” He stands, faces me, and says, “We will plan your next move once you get some rest.”

  The floors are lined with mattresses.

  “I didn’t know how many people were with you. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

  Emily jumps on the mattress that is illuminated by the glow of the lantern. “This is my bed!”

  The others place their belongings on the various mattresses throughout the room as Richard and his men disappear into the darkness.

  13

  A NEW DAY

  I awake to the sound of a rooster crowing. The rising sun peeks through the small, high windows. Pink-and-yellow hues melt together in the sky. I hear Sadie’s son suckling on her breast as she slumbers. The others are still fast asleep. Specks of dust float in the sun’s rays.

  Emily seems smaller as she sleeps, curled in my arms. The sunlight reaches her face and her eyelids begin to flutter.

  “Good morning,” she whispers.

  I rub the top of her head. “Good morning, angel.”

  Our dishes from last night are spread out around the room. I begin to gather them quietly and stack them by the stairs. Emily helps by collecting the water glasses.

  “Richard is nice,” Emily says as she places the glasses by the stairs.

  “Yes,” I say, “he is very special.”

  “He’s white and nice, like Tillie.”

  I giggle a little. “Yes, he is.”

  My smile fades as I wonder why Tillie and her aunt never made it to the river. I hope that they escaped from the house and are heading north.

  We hear the creak of the cellar door opening. Emily jumps and runs behind me. A voice calls from the top of the stairs, “It’s just me.”

  Richard arrives at the bottom of the stairs, followed by his butler and a woman. The servants collect the dishes and leave. Richard has a large wicker basket full of fruit that he offers to us. Emily dives for a red apple, then runs straight to Clementine and jumps on her mattress, shrieking, “Look! Look!”

  Clementine is startled awake but calms down when she sees Emily’s smiling face.

  “They are just like your apples!” Emily says as she passes the juicy fruit to her.

  “Is this for me?” Clementine asks.

  Emily nods and runs back to Richard.

  “You want another?” Richard laughs.

  “Please.”

  Richard picks out the largest apple and hands it to her. Emily takes it back to her bed and nibbles on it. She is content for the moment.

  Clementine walks over to Richard and says, “I’m Clementine.”

  Richard responds with a firm handshake and says, “Richard.”

  “Thank you for this,” Clementine says with deep sincerity.

  “It’s good for now,” Richard says, “but we have to figure out a plan to move you to the next station.”

  Clementine nods in agreement.

  “When the others wake up we’ll discuss our plan.” Richard gestures toward the back of the cellar and says, “That’s a false wall. There’s a small opening over there, down low. It’s concealed, but when you pull the cover off, it’s big enough for a man to fit throug
h. If you have to hide, you’ll need to crawl through the opening to get behind the wall.”

  Clementine walks to the wall and inspects the covered entrance.

  Richard looks at me with such warmth that I’m taken aback.

  “Is everything all right?” Richard asks.

  “Yes, it’s just…” I falter. “I don’t know—you’re doing so much for us.”

  “May I say something to you in private?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He takes me to the small hallway that leads to our makeshift privy.

  “I’ve thought of you every day since we first met,” he confesses as he takes my hand. “You can’t go with the others. You’re in too much danger. If you stay with me for a few days, I’ll be able to make sure your journey north will be safe… or safer.”

  “But I can’t,” I blurt out.

  “Just think about it. The others are at more risk with you around,” he says as he moves toward the stairs.

  I sit in the hallway to sort out my thoughts in private, but Samuel walks toward me and says, “I don’t mean to bother you, but…” He points to the small room behind me with the rusted bucket that Richard set up as our outhouse.

  “Of course!” I respond as I jump up from where I am sitting. “Sorry.”

  I rush past him and make my way back to the mattresses. The others are roaming about the room, peeking out of windows and investigating the space.

  “How long do you think we’ll be here?” Margaret asks.

  I conceal my emotions and answer her with a steady voice. “Richard will be back soon to discuss the plan.”

  “I’m feeling a bit scared.”

  “I would be worried if you weren’t,” I say with a smile.

  “I’ve been praying for Tillie.”

  “Me too,” I answer. “Me too.”

  The four walls seem to close in on me as I try to conceal my tears. Crooks stands at a window, tapping on the frame. Sadie and Margaret croon over baby Mayan just two beds down, and Clementine shows Emily how to play a game with her fingers. I am surrounded by stimulation, noises… people. I cannot hide—or think.

  Samuel returns from the hallway. “You look like a horse trampled you,” he says rather loudly.

  The entire room falls silent and stares at me. Once again I attempt to lie, but the words will not form. “I’ll be fine” is all I can say.

  The women and Emily slowly gravitate toward me. Sadie hands me her baby. “He’s really good at making people feel better.”

  Mayan smiles as I settle him on my lap. He is a plump child, and his wide eyes stare at me as if he can see straight through my soul. The chaos inside me begins to subside. I can feel his innocence and smell his sweet baby scent. The child begins to laugh as I bounce him on my knee.

  “Silence!” Crooks demands as he peers out of a window.

  The child is the first one to respond to Crooks’s command. His smile fades, and Sadie swoops down, takes him from me, and cradles him to her bosom.

  “Quickly!” Clementine waves her hands toward the wall. “Stack the beds and head to the wall space.”

  We gather our belongings as Clementine and the men quickly stack the mattresses against the wall. She leads us to the corner of the room. There is a small opening at the base of the wall. Sadie hands her baby to me as she crawls in first. I pass her the child and then usher Emily through the opening. We all huddle in the tiny space. Just as Samuel covers the opening behind him, we hear loud pounding on the cellar door. The lock gives way and a torrent of footsteps pound down the stairs. Emily squeezes my arm.

  “This is private property!” Richard yells.

  “We’re the law, son,” one man proclaims. “Kindly move out of our way.”

  “There’s nothing here, sir,” another man says, about two feet from our hiding space.

  “Why do you have these beds?” the first man asks.

  Richard explains, “These are my slave quarters. I insist that they keep it clean and stack the beds every morning.”

  Another man must have made his way to the indoor privy. “There is fresh waste in a bucket back here!” he yells.

  “You do realize the severity of harboring runaway slaves?” a man snarls.

  “The waste is from my slaves,” Richard insists.

  “I’ll be watching you, Richard Dillingham,” the man shouts as his footsteps disappear up the stairs.

  Richard must have followed them out of the cellar. The stark silence feels almost as threatening as the yelling. I can feel the sweat from Clementine’s back soaking the front of my dress. We are all stacked behind the false wall. Sadie’s baby grunts as she attempts to breastfeed him. Emily holds tight to my arm.

  We stay in the same position for what seems like hours. None of us dare to speak or ask any questions. My limbs have fallen asleep and are practically numb.

  Finally, the cellar door swings open. Emily grabs my dead arm and pulls it toward her. We hear each step creak on the stairs. Clementine’s back begins to sweat again as I hear someone walking up to our wall.

  The false flap opens. “It’s only me,” Richard reassures us. “I am so sorry,” he says as he pulls each of us out of the space.

  Emily seems to be the only one not physically affected by being cramped for so long. She skips around the room as we all attempt to regain feeling in our legs.

  “It is not safe for any of you here. The sheriff said that there are bounty hunters in every county searching for you. He had the poster with your face on it,” Richard says as he stares at me with his crystal-blue eyes. “They’re now accusing all of you of murder and witchcraft.”

  “Murder!” Samuel scoffs. “Who did we murder?”

  “I didn’t ask any questions,” Richard responds.

  We all quietly stand in shock.

  Richard breaks the silence. “I have someone coming tonight to take you to the next safe house, but I’m afraid that I cannot, in good conscience, let Yemaya go with you. She’s the only one with a bounty on her head, and the only one of you with her face plastered on every tree.”

  “What?” Emily gasps. “Yemaya has to stay with us!”

  She looks to the others for support, but no one responds. Emily runs up to me and hugs my waist. I rub her hair and comfort her. “You’ll be fine, my love.”

  I look at my people, drenched in sweat and shaken by fear, and assert, “I think Richard is right. You should not have to pay for this.”

  Margaret walks up to me. “This is not your fault.”

  “Thank you, Margaret, but you should travel together up north. I will meet you there.”

  I hug Emily tight to me and add, “I promise.”

  14

  ALONE AGAIN

  The Underground Railroad guides come for everyone else from my group late in the evening. Richard’s staff has prepared food for the journey. Richard hands a musket to Crooks, who still has the rifle I threw to him. Crooks shows Richard the gun and is about to hand the musket back to him when Margaret intercepts it.

  She says, more forcefully than I think she means to, “Give me that!” She grabs it and then shrinks back a bit, and adds more softly, “Thank you. I’m a good shot.” She smiles and marches up the stairs to join the guides.

  My stomach drops as I watch them disappear into the dense forest. Richard takes my hand and says, “They’ll be all right. I have my best men protecting them. Come with me. I have an attic space that may be a better fit for you. I want you to get your rest.” He leads me to the main house, ushers me to the top floor and down a long hallway. There is a trapdoor in the ceiling that he pulls down with a long metal hook.

  “I’ll bring a lantern for you.”

  His blue eyes meet mine, and he whispers, “I don’t even know who you are. Witchcraft?”

  “Do you actually believe them?”

  “I’m confused,” he admits.

  Smiling, I take his hand and squeeze it. His cheeks turn red, then he nods and says, “I have a friend vi
siting who I want you to meet. Can I bring him to the attic in the morning?”

  “Yes.”

  I am oddly comforted by my solitude in the tiny attic space. The quiet reminds me of my life in the ocean. I always felt connected with everything around me, at one with the sea and all those creatures who shared it with me. The noise of this human world on land is often jarring and overwhelming. These humans never stop talking. The Mer don’t chatter simply to fill up space.

  The morning sun glistens through a small window in the attic ceiling. The air at the top of the house is crisp, in total contrast to the basement’s dampness. Although the lack of humidity weakens me, my lungs appreciate the fresh air.

  My mind drifts, and I think of Sadie, the baby, Margaret, Emily, Clementine, Crooks, and Samuel. They had become my family in the few days we spent together. My heart tightens as I wonder if I’ll ever see Tillie or Frederick again.

  And then there is Obatala. I feel too much pain to even think about him. Nevertheless, as soon as he enters my mind, I am consumed with thoughts of him. My pulse begins to quicken as my breath deepens. A tingle in my lower belly intensifies with each breath I take. As I reach to massage the sensation, I hear the scratch of the long hook on the attic door.

  As the trapdoor creaks open, I hear Richard yell up to me, “Good morning, Yemaya!”

  I lean over the opening and see him standing below with a silver tray full of food. A sickly-looking white man is with him.

  Richard nods at his friend and says, “I’ve brought my good friend Waldo to join us.”

  Richard hands Waldo the tray of food and places a long ladder at the opening to the attic. He takes the tray back and sends Waldo up the ladder, then follows him.

  The two men sit beside me, and I cannot help but notice Waldo’s poor state of health.

  “You are not well,” I observe.

  Waldo looks at Richard. “She cuts right down to the truth. My kind of lady.” His charisma seeps through his sickened pores.

  “I brought Waldo to meet you because the two of you are—how can I say this?” Richard pauses. “Unique.”