CHAPTER 37 
Come by Here, My Lord
With all the commotion of Essex’s arrival, we had stopped attending church service. I missed the cool breeze of our walks, the soulful singing of the choir, the pastor’s heartfelt sermon, and the belief that Jesus could make everything all right. When Sunday rolled around, I insisted that we attend. The Jailer permitted me to take all the girls except for Birdie. One of his children always had to stay behind, along with Monroe, as insurance we would return. Sissy stayed in the big house with Birdie and her son, Daniel. Abbie, Elsie, and Hamp, the new driver, accompanied us.
My daughters loved the production of preparing for church, picking out pretty dresses and having their hair curled at the ends. As soon as we walked through the double doors of the sanctuary, they found their place in the front of the children’s section with the other girls and boys of distinguished families and honored guests.
Three rows from the back, on the women’s side of the church, I spotted Corrina Hinton sitting alone. I removed my gloves and took a seat next to her. The organ started up and the choir sang “Come by Here.”
“Good day.”
“Pheby, so nice to see you.” She swayed.
“Feels good to be back. Needed something to help restore my faith.”
“Trying times,” she sang, keeping in step with the choir.
I sang back, “He sold July.”
We both kept our heads facing forward, but she reached for my hand and patted it.
“Life here ebbs and flows. There will be rough patches but you must stay strong.”
“Corrina, I need your help.”
“Whatever I can do.”
The choir finished and the crowd shouted in unison, “Praise the Lord! Amen! Glory be!”
Once the cries began to die, Pastor Ryland walked into the pulpit and gave his welcome address.
Corrina dabbed her handkerchief at the corners of her mouth while whispering, “Ears watch and eyes listen here. Meet me inside the bakery on market day.”
I nodded.
“Tell the woman with the cleft chin that you are meeting me.”
My hand covered hers, and then I turned my attention to the gospel.
On Wednesday I went to the market. I put in my weekly order at Thalhimer’s Dry Goods and went to Hilda’s competitor on Franklin Street to order ready-made dresses. When I had completed all the tasks on my list, I meandered to the bakery. I loved that I could taste cinnamon and nutmeg in the air. A woman with a cleft chin served behind the counter. There were two white customers in line ahead of me, and after she aided them, I whispered that I was meeting Corrina. She did not raise her eyes, but handed me a swirl pastry and pointed to the seat away from the window. I ate slowly and waited. After about ten minutes, a little girl around Hester’s age came to wipe my table. When she finished, she motioned with her shoulder for me to follow her.
We walked behind the counter, through the kitchen, and down steep, narrow stairs. The place smelled of dust and cement. We turned into the tunnel on the right. Since we carried no light, I touched the chalky wall with my left hand so as not to lose my balance. At the end of the tunnel sat a small table with a candle burning. Corrina sat there with a notebook and a teacup.
“Sorry I do not have a second cup to offer you.”
I dropped into the seat opposite her. The girl disappeared the same way she came. When I felt sure we were alone, I muttered, “Thank you for this.”
“I have not done anything yet.”
I took a deep breath and told Corrina everything, from my life on the plantation, the promise of my freedom, my love for Essex, being sold on the day of my mama’s funeral, and giving birth to Essex’s child to the anguish of the Jailer selling July because of me.
“It is only a matter of time before he sells Monroe. I need to get him out of here.”
“By himself?”
“And Essex.”
Her eyes opened wide. “How would you get them off the property? I am sure they are under lock and key.”
“I am working on that now.”
“They will need money.”
“I have it.”
She sipped. “Rubin Lapier is feared. You know they have nicknamed him Bully behind his back?”
“Yes, I have heard.”
“Let me see what the friends can do.”
“Thank you, Corrina.”
“Do not thank me yet. Your request will not prove easy.”
I had no opportunity to see Essex, because the Jailer had me playing in the tavern with him until he closed for the night, then insisted that I sleep in his bed. His way of keeping an eye on me. The only time I could visit Monroe was at first light, before the Jailer roused for his day. When I left the big house to find him, the girls were still nestled in their beds but the guards were all at their posts. A coolness followed me as I trekked over to the stables, carrying apples and pears to sustain the boys through the labor of their day. When I reached the stall, Monroe had already headed to the well to draw water, and Tommy was sweeping the stables and stacking hay.
“I need to talk to you,” I whispered, looking over my shoulder. Tommy led me to a corner in the back of the stables. I pulled his ear to my mouth and whispered directions.
“You sure, Missus?” I could not mistake the terror in his eyes.
“I do not want any of you to end up like July.”
At the mention of her name he started to weep. “My sister.”
I never knew. I pulled him to my breasts and rocked him. He stood stiff in my arms, unaccustomed to affection.
“Listen to me and do what I say. I will reward you. It is my promise.”
As I left the stables, I spotted Monroe carrying water up to the kitchen house. I watched as my son balanced a strip of wood with metal buckets hanging from each side. Backbreaking work for such a young child. When I was his age, I was learning to play piano, how to add, and to read simple books like Little Boy Blue. On my way to the shed, I glanced up toward the garret room where Essex resided and prayed under my breath for God’s guidance. A full week had passed since I’d seen Essex last, and I did not want him to lose faith.
The next Sunday I prepared the girls for church. This week Tommy put on a clean white shirt and attended with us. Abbie stayed back with Birdie, and Hamp remained at the jail to clean and repair the wagon. Sissy held the younger girls’ hands and Hester walked beside Elsie. Tommy and I were side by side; he slowed down a bit and uttered between his lips, “I figured it out, Missus. Take a few more days.”
“Good. No one is to know.”
“I real careful.”
When we arrived at First African Baptist, I quickened my pace and walked up the stone steps. The greeters bid us all good morning and then we entered and found our places. Elsie and Sissy liked to sit as close to the pulpit as possible, as if the word of God could only be found in the front few pews. Corrina sat in her same pew, and I took a seat beside her. While singing the hymns, we talked to each other.
“The friends are afraid. Moving the fugitive is too dangerous. We can help with your son.”
“It has to be both or he will die.”
Corrina folded her hands gently in her lap.
“Please. I can pay more.”
She sang on, “I am so sorry.”