I couldn't stop thinking about Darcy, and so as we sat there whittling, I told Jupiter how I felt like what had happened to Darcy was all my fault and I hoped she would forgive me. He didn't look me in the eye but instead just kept working on his stick.
Miss Amelia says that there are all kinds of people in the world and that Mrs. Simpson is of the ignorant variety. Miss Amelia says that ignorance breeds hate, and hate can cause a lot of suffering. She has decided that it would be best not to be around such hateful ignorance, so I am not to return to my dancing lessons! Any other time I would be dancing for joy at this news, but somehow I can't even seem to smile, not with it being so quiet around here.
Your brother, Levi
August 16, 1853
Dear Austin,
Today was the strangest day, though it started out normal enough. Possum and I went over to the barn raising at the Fenton farm. I took along my flask of hiccup remedy just in case. You know it's a four-mile walk to the Fentons’, and the road sure is hot and dusty this time of year. But lots of folks were there with picnic baskets full of good food. Mr. Sipes made some tasty root beer, and a good taffy pull was going on.
Angus Ripley and his cousin Ellis found some fair-size tobacco butts over by where the men were unloading timber, and they stowed them in their pockets. On our way home we stopped off at the swimming hole before the bend in the river and met Angus and some of the others there.
They were smoking the butts, and little Georgie Nestor was gagging and turning green, and they had to dump him in the water to get him to stop.
We met Possum's sister Maudee back on the road. She wanted to walk home with us but insisted on stopping every two feet on account of a splinter she had in her foot. We finally had to stop and get it out with the pin that was holding up Possum's britches. I had to hold up his britches while he dug out the splinter. Anyway, by the time we got to Mud Run Road it was almost dark. That's when things started turning strange, Austin.
We were walking as fast as we could when we saw a light coming from behind Preacher Tully's smokehouse. This was the second time I had seen that light, and it just didn't make sense to me. The ground is swampy back there, and the preacher is not a hunter. So whose light could it be? And what were they doing out there? Following the club creed, I knew I'd have to do the responsible thing once again and get to the bottom of things.
We decided to head over to the smokehouse through the woods, since it was on our way home anyway. The moon gave us plenty of light.
All of a sudden Maudee, who was behind us, let out a scream that pretty near scared us out of our skins!
Possum and I both turned around to see a big old copperhead stretching out from behind a gooseberry bush. He was fixing his sights on Maudee's foot!
What happened next was so surprising it still seems like some kind of dream, for what should come flying out of the bushes but a hatchet, which took that snake's head clear off!
“What you all doing out here in dese parts so late?” a deep voice rose out of the bushes. A fit of hiccups had come on me afore I could answer. As I was reaching for the flask in my back pocket, I was relieved to see that it was only Winston and Jupiter stepping out afore us. I took a swig of tea and smiled, but they didn't smile back.
“We were just cutting through the woods on our way home,” I said, suddenly noticing the rifle in Winston's hands.
“Well, that's one dangerous thing to be doing after dark,” Winston snapped. “A body could get hisself shot.”
“Shot?” Maudee shuddered beside me.
“Surely so,” Winston replied. “Men be out hunting possum this time of night. Not no time for chilrens to be walking about.”
I felt a shiver run through me. I had never heard his voice sound so tight and threatening. Even Jupiter had a funny look about him as he went for the hatchet. It was almost as if he was a stranger to us.
“Best be getting home now,” said Winston, nodding toward the road.
Maudee reached for Possum s hand, and we took off out of the woods. We didn't even say good-bye to Winston and Jupiter, and Winston didn't say anything more to us, either. We never did find out about the light behind TuUy's smokehouse. Maudee said it was lucky that she screamed, or Winston might have shot a possum after all (meaning her brother).
“Funny thing is,” Possum said, “no one hunts possum this time of year.”
“Why not?” Maudee asked.
“It's their breeding season, and they're all in their burrows. They don't come out till the weather turns cold.” (Possum knows pretty much everything there is to know about possums.)
None of us said it aloud, but we were all wondering what Winston and Jupiter were doing out in the woods with a hatchet and a rifle if they weren't hunting. Things suddenly don't seem as simple in Sudbury as they used to.
Your brother, Levi
P.S. For getting home after dark, I received the punishment of having to pluck chickens for the quilting-bee supper. “Ain't folks tired of eating chicken all the time?” I groaned on hearing about it. But Miss Amelia showed no mercy. I can taste those chicken feathers in my mouth already.
August 20, 1853
Dear Austin,
Do you know how just when you think things aren't so good they suddenly turn worse than you could ever have imagined? That's how things are here. I was feeling put upon, what with all my plucking to do, when not two days later something far worse happened.
Darcy has disappeared! Kidnapped, we fear! And oh, Austin, it is all my fault.
Henry Fenton and his brother Will were in their orchard picking worms off the peaches -when they saw Darcy pass by on her way home. Two men driving a green wagon pulled up alongside her, and Henry watched as Darcy climbed up into the wagon and drove off. That was the last time anyone saw her. They found one of her yellow ribbons on the road, but she never showed up at her house for supper that night.
Winston and Jupiter came by our place looking for her. Winston was frantic with worry, as the slave catchers had rented a wagon and some horses from Charlie the blacksmith. Charlie only has one wagon that he rents out, and it is painted green.
Even though it was well after dark, Miss Amelia put on her bonnet and left in the wagon with Winston and Jupiter for Preacher Tully's place. She said that the preacher might have heard something. I don't know why she figured the preacher would know about it. I guess maybe it has something to do with his knowing so many people from church. As it turned out, Preacher Tully had heard some news — but it was all bad.
It seems that Mrs. Nolan, who sells butter to the preacher, also sells butter to some folks in town. One of her customers is Mrs. Simpson, and it was from Mrs. Simpson that she heard all about the slave catchers and that they were heading for North Carolina. Mrs. Simpson bragged to Mrs. Nolan that she had offered to do what she could to help the slave catchers “rid the area of riffraff.” Although Mrs. Simpson didn't know anything about the two men they were hunting, she did tell them about a young girl. She told them the times that girl passed her house on her way into and out of town. She was telling them about Darcy!
So you can see why I am responsible, Austin. It was my idea for Darcy to visit Mrs. Simpson s window last month. If Darcy hadn't been there and Mrs. Simpson hadn't gotten so riled up, she might never have even thought to tell the slave catchers about Darcy at all. Winston and the preacher have left to look for her.
I keep remembering that day Possum and I -were at Miller's store and -what the men -were saying about “black hides,” and I shudder to think that those slave catchers -would be looking at Darcy that -way. What will happen to her without Jupiter and her pa there to protect her? Possum's pa says that she could get sold down into the Deep South, -where they need slaves to bring in the cotton. He says that when slaves are swallowed up on those big plantations, they most likely won't be heard from again.
I had an awful nightmare last night, but at least I got to wake up from it and I was in my own bed. I can't help -wondering -wh
ere Darcy found herself waking up this morning.
I am sitting up in the hayloft now as I write this. The sun is setting over the cornfield, and the rays are pouring in through the loft -windo-w. It is the time of day when Jupiter, Possum, and I would take up our -whittling. We'd be discussing the bumps on Plug Ugly's back, laughing and -whispering, -with Jupiter grinning as -we whittled.
But there are no stories to listen to today and no laughing nor grinning neither. Jupiter hasn't come around, and I kno-w -why. He must blame me for -what's happened to his sister, and truth be known, I'd feel the same way if I -were him. If I could only somehow undo that one afternoon. I keep going over it in my head. I can hear us all talking, and I can see Darcy with her head full of those yellow ribbons.
Darcy's stick is leaning on a bale of hay where Jupiter left it, the little nightingale sitting atop it as silent as a stone.
Your brother, Levi
September 9, 1853
Dear Austin,
This letter brings good news and bad. The good news is that the Sudbury thieves have been caught! Turns out, Harley Rush's two older cousins, Tom and Amos, have been stealing supplies all over town for their journey out west. I reckon that mean streak of Harley's runs straight through the whole Rush family. The bad news is that the club members and I didn't get a chance to catch the thieves ourselves. It was Mr. Tanner who finally got ‘em helping themselves to his smokehouse meats. In any case, it looks like those two crooks won't be joining you out west anytime soon.
And there's more bad news, Austin. Darcy is still missing. Possums brother said that each day she's gone probably puts her that much farther away. I was glad that Jupiter was not there to hear this. I keep trying to think of something I could say to Jupe to help him feel better. But I reckon the only thing that would work would be the sound of Darcy's voice.
I heard a nightingale singing in the mulberry tree as I carried in the kindling this evening. I couldn't help wondering if Jupe will ever hear his nightingale again. If only Darcy had wings like that little bird in the mulberry tree! Then she could fly back to Sudbury, where she'd be safe.
That's what I'm praying for tonight. I'm praying to God that he sees fit to give Darcy wings or whatever miracle it takes to bring her back to us. I only hope he's listening.
Your brother, Levi
September 10, 1853
Dear Austin,
I am writing you this letter tonight, but I won't be able to get down to Miller's store to mail it until I return (and I don't know when that will be). I reckon you're going to be anxious about what I'm about to do, Austin, and Miss Amelia will be, too, when she finds out.
Preacher Tully and Winston got back yesterday. They were gone three weeks. They did not find Darcy, nor hear a solid lead about where she might be.
I was chopping wood today when Preacher Tully came by. I overheard him and Miss Amelia talking on the porch. Preacher Tully said that things were far worse than he had first thought, and that Miss Amelia must not repeat what he was about to tell her.
I moved in closer to hear.
“Winston was owned by a Simon Tate,” the preacher said. “Before he died, Tate willed that Winston should have his freedom, but Winston's wife, Delia, and the children were not included in this stipulation. So when Simon Tate died, Winston was freed, but his family was now owned by Mary Tate, Simon's widow. She promptly sold them to her brother-in law, Henry Tate.
“It seems this Henry Tate was a meanspirited, evil man, and when he had Delia whipped to death, Winston took the children and ran. He ran with them all the way to Pennsylvania.
“So you see, Darcy and Jupiter are not free.” The preacher sighed heavy here and ran his fingers through his hair. “They are still the property of Henry Tate. And that's not the worst of it. All we do know is that those slave catchers were from somewhere in North Carolina. We have no way of knowing who they were or where they might have taken Darcy. Without papers to prove she's a free person, our only hope of getting Darcy back is to buy her, but we'd have to find her first.”
Oh, Austin, I never thought things could be so bad. When I heard Miss Amelia ask about Jupiter, I held my breath to hear, for the preacher had lowered his voice to a whisper.
“He is in danger as well. Winston knows how slim his chances are of finding Darcy now. He's decided to get Jupiter out of Pennsylvania while he still has a chance at freedom. Canada is their only hope.
“They'll leave tomorrow night. With the slave catchers running across the borders into the free states and carrying people off, Pennsylvania is no longer safe. They've got to go farther north.”
I heard a horse and wheels and looked around the house to see Winston and Jupiter pulling up in their wagon. Winston's usually straight broad shoulders were slumped over, as if he had a heavy -weight on them. His face was sadder than I've ever seen it. Jupiter was staring at the ground. I went over to the barn to wait for him.
Miss Amelia and the preacher went to talk to Winston, and Jupiter climbed down and came looking for me. We went up in the hayloft to be alone.
I told him all that I had heard, and how I would hate for him to have to go to Canada, but he shook his head.
“What do you mean, no?” I whispered. “If your pa says, you've got to go, Jupe. What else can you do?”
Jupiter put his hand over his ear and then over his throat.
“Hear a song?” I whispered. I tried to figure out what he was telling me. Why did he want to hear a song now? Then he leaned over and picked up his walking stick.
“Darcy!” I cried. “You want to hear Darcy sing! But how?”
He walked over to the window and pointed to the road leading away from the house.
I knew then what he was planning. He was heading south rather than north. He was going to find Darcy! Once I understood this, I couldn't let him go alone. Now, you know that I've never been farther south than the Fentons’ farm, and I don't know what North Carolina will be like, but I can't sit here in Sudbury doing nothing, knowing that I was responsible for Darcy's kidnapping in the first place.
So we hatched a plan to go together. The hard part for Jupiter will be leaving Whistle behind, but it would be too dangerous to take him along. I packed a sack with some things we'll need—my slingshot, my flask of hiccup remedy, an old canteen for water, my knife, my flint rock for starting fires, some gingerbread in a napkin, and two pieces of rock candy. I'm also taking Reuben's old turnip head with me to work on when we've got time. I've put some sheets of paper into the sack as well. I'll write to you from the road and mail the letters when I return. I don't know when that will be, Austin, and I hope you won't be worrying too much in the meantime.
Jupiter is taking Darcy's walking stick with him. He aims to give it to her when we find her. Traveling south is such a dangerous thing for Jupiter to be doing, and I wonder at his courage. I only hope we have enough between us to do what we're setting out to do.
Nothing we ever did in our club seemed as serious as this. I wish we had spent more time working on being real daredevils and not just pretending. If ever I needed your advice, Austin, it's now. I wish you were here to tell me how to find the courage to be more than the hiccuppy coward of a boy I feel to be tonight.
Your brother, Levi
September 12, 1853
Dear Austin,
So much has happened, I don't know where to begin. I suppose I should start, with the night before last, when Jupiter and I left Sudbury. We met up back of the Hepples’ cow barn after midnight and took off through the woods. Neither of us knew how to get to North Carolina. All we knew was that it was south of Sudbury.
We walked toward the Fenton place, and when we got there we just kept on going, following along the canal. We slept out under some pine trees along the bank, and the next morning we ate the gingerbread along with the rock candy for our breakfast. After that, we walked along the canal until we met a barge that was heading south. The bargeman was friendly enough and offered to give us a ride downstream
. I asked if he had seen a young girl with yellow ribbons and two men pass by, but he had not.
Neither Jupiter nor I had ever been on a barge afore, and it was great fun to glide along the water. We got off about ten miles downstream, and the man threw us each a potato from a barrel for our supper. We walked some till we grew tired.
As I “write this I am sitting by a fire that we made from some birch twigs and brush. The sun is going down, and we're roasting our potatoes and some ears of corn that we picked from a farmer's field. I even found an old licorice stick in my pocket, which we decided to eat first. We were both grinning at our good fortune as we chomped on the hard licorice, when we heard an owl hooting in a sycamore tree over our heads. I looked over at Jupiter. The smile had left his face as his eyes searched the branches above us.
I knew who he was thinking of. I am thinking of her too.
“Could be they don't have any owls living down in the Carolinas,” I said, trying to make him feel easier.
“Could be,” his shrug seemed to answer. “Or could be they got worse,” his eyes seemed to say.
We sat there for a long spell just watching the fire and listening to that owl hooting at the moon.
Your brother, Levi
September 1853
Dear Austin,
We traveled clear on down into Virginia today, though I'm not sure what day it is. On the road you lose track of time. You also get mighty thirsty. We drank up a lot of the hiccup remedy, not on account of nerves but from thirst. I sure wish we hadn't done that. There's just enough to ward off one more fit, I reckon.
Got a ride from a schoolteacher by the name of Miss Milly Keck, who had a shiny black trap and a fine-looking bay. Miss Milly invited us to take a seat beside her, if we cared for a ride. This was no easy matter, as the seat was short and Miss Milly was on the bountiful side.
Dear Austin: Letters From the Underground Railroad Page 4