At supper, Andrew and James asked Mister Pembrook many questions about his business travels, and it was obvious the man was impressed enough with himself to speak long and loudly about his successes.
At one point, Grammy said, “Mister Pembrook, what about Josiah? Are you taking him tomorrow? You know, of course, that he is crippled? He can’t work in the fields, and he’s too clumsy with that bad leg to be a house slave. Just what are your plans for such a young boy?”
The man reached across the table to pat Grammy on the hand. “Now, now, Missus Tate, don’t you fret yourself none ’bout that boy. If he don’t pan out for me, there’s all kinds of places I can sell him to. N’Awlens, for one.”
Grammy snatched her hand out from under his, and both she and Ma gasped. New Orleans was well known for the infamous things that happened to slaves sold to markets in that area. All of them were bad.
Ma all but slammed her coffee mug down on the table. “Mister Pembrook! Surely you would not do such a dastardly thing with a child such as Josiah? I can’t believe…”
“Laura, that’s enough.” Pa’s voice rumbled through the dining room. “What Mister Pembrook does with Josiah, once he’s bought and paid for, is of no concern to you. I’ll not have you question a guest in this house.”
“I’ve had enough. I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this talk about Josiah anymore.” Ben pushed back his chair so hard it fell over and stomped out of the room.
His father roared, “Benjamin, get back here immediately!”
Ben ignored him and went up to his room. He pulled his knapsack out from under his bed and began packing it. He stuffed it with two heavy shirts, a pair of pants, an extra jacket that was small enough for Josiah, and a couple of his mother’s hand-knit mufflers. The September winds were carrying a strong hint of the coming fall. When he finished, he tried to stick his big quilt in to see if it would fit, but there was only room enough for a blanket.
He slipped his jackknife and the old key Grammy had given him into his pocket, put one of his largest wood carving knives in the knapsack, and shoved the knapsack under his bed. He looked around the room. One knapsack didn’t seem like much to take for a journey that, at the moment, had no end in terms of either distance or time. He couldn’t think of anything else he might need, until he remembered the old compass he had used to find the barn. He took it out of his desk drawer and slipped it in the same pocket with the jackknife and key.
When he heard his grandmother come upstairs, he walked down the hall and tapped on the door.
“Come in, Ben.”
He walked over and gave her a hug. ‘How did you know it was me, Grammy?”
She smiled. “I just knew. Is there something special you want to talk about, Ben?”
He looked at this lady whom he loved with all his heart, and whom he knew he might never see again after tonight. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders as her eyes searched his. Her silvery white hair was beginning to trickle down from its upswept style, her faint lavender fragrance drifted gently through the room, and for a minute, Ben felt tears clogging his throat. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, Grammy, nothing special. I just wanted to say goodnight. It’s been a long day.”
She reached out and took his hand. “I expect it’s going to be an even longer night, Ben. Remember always that I love you, and I’m proud of the young man you’re becoming. I want you to think about this, when the road one takes is unfamiliar, it often sprouts out in different directions. It’s mighty hard to decide if the path one chooses is the right one. Sometimes the best decision is the one requiring a leap of faith. Do you understand?”
He was quiet for a moment. “I… I think I do. I’ll think hard on it.”
She looked at him closely and nodded. “Yes, I think you do. Good night, Ben. I love you.”
He hugged her hard. “Night, Grammy. I love you, too.” When he released her, he saw that tears filled the dark green eyes that were so like his own.
He went back to his room and began the wait for the house to settle and become quiet.
Ben squirmed around on his bed until the covers twisted as tight as if he’d tied them in a knot. There was no time for worry, no time for regrets about leaving his family and his one shot at a higher education behind. If they were going to escape, it had to be now or Josiah would be gone tomorrow. He sat up on the edge of his bed, fully dressed except for his shoes.
Except for the quiet sounds of the grandfather’s clock in the library striking nine, the house was silent. His brothers and parents had long since closed their bedroom doors. Before he had time for second thoughts, he picked up the knapsack and his work shoes and tiptoed down the stairs. Half way down, his stocking feet slipped and he had to grab the railing to keep from falling. The knapsack fell from his hands and bumped its way down to the bottom of the stairs.
Ben froze. His heart banged against his chest and sweat trickled down his back. He was sure that any minute someone would come running out to see what all the noise was. The house remained quiet.
For what seemed like an hour, but could only have been a few minutes, Ben didn’t move. When he was sure no one had awakened, he hung on to the railing and took the rest of the steps two at a time. At the bottom, he picked up his knapsack and stepped into the kitchen.
He put on his heavy jacket and work shoes, and stuck the gloves in a pocket. His hand shook as he reached for the iron key ring hanging next to the back door. He managed to slip it off the hook without dropping it and headed out to the larder.
Once inside, he stood still to let his eyes get accustomed to the darkness. In a minute, he saw a lantern on a shelf that he lit with the matches laying beside it. The warm glow of the lantern played along the many shelves full of jars of fruit, vegetables, and jams Ma and Grammy had put up. He swallowed hard, knowing he might never get to taste them again, raised the lantern, and made his way to the root cellar.
The hard-packed dirt floor made his footsteps inaudible, and the room itself was cool and damp, with little droplets of water resting on the stone sides. The light was dim, but it was enough to see several large hams and slabs of bacon hanging from hooks, and even two batches of butter biscuits that Bess had evidently baked just that morning. He walked deeper into the cellar and saw a platter of thick slices of ham covered with a linen napkin, and a big basket of freshly picked apples.
He took one of his shirts out of his knapsack, and spread it out on the floor. He wrapped all the ham slices in the napkin, and put the napkin on the center of his shirt. He dumped one whole batch of biscuits on top of the ham, added some apples, and then looked longingly at all the fruit. He placed two jars of peaches in his shirt and tied it into a neat package, but when he picked it up he realized that it was far too heavy to carry with his knapsack. He sighed, took out the peaches and retied his shirt. At least it wasn’t so heavy now.
He closed and locked the larder door, raced to the kitchen to return the keys, and ran down to the slave quarters to knock on Jesse and Bess’s door. A long moment passed before Jesse opened the door, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He frowned when he saw Ben.
“Boy, what all you doing this time o’ night? What you doing out here?” He smothered a yawn as he peered into Ben’s face.
“Shh, Jesse, be quiet and listen. The man’s here, the one who’s going to buy Josiah. He came a lot sooner than I thought he would, but he’s asleep in the house. Come on, we’ve got to leave. I know how to get you away from here.”
Before Jesse could do more than look at Ben in shock, Bess came up behind him. “Ben, you not foolin,’ boy? That man I made up the room for, he gonna take my boy away?”
“Listen to me! I’m not fooling. Mister Pembrook is going to take Josiah with him in the morning. Get your stuff together, we’ve got to hurry.”
While Ben was waiting for them, he looked back at the house. This was his life he was leaving; Ma and Grammy, the boys, Pa. What was he doing? He thought about all the things that “home” meant to him — all of his precious books he was leaving behind; the possible chance of going to school in Lexington; the heavily laden table at Thanksgiving, with the turkey and pumpkin pies; the smell of the gingerbread cookies Ma made for him every Christmas. All of this would be lost to him if he took one step away from the plantation, with Josiah and his parents behind him.
He found it hard to take a breath, with his heart beating so fast. His thoughts were tumbling around in his mind like small whirlwinds. He had to do this, even if it was going against all his parents believed it. At the same time, he realized he didn’t even know for sure where the Ohio River was.
The memory of Cracker’s body swinging from the tree came to mind, as did the thought of what Mister Pembrook had said about selling Josiah down to New Orleans. Ben had heard the slaves talking about what happened when one of the runaways was found and taken to New Orleans. It was far worse than being a slave on a plantation. He shook his head. He knew that even if he never came home again, this was the right thing to do.
He brushed angrily at the tears in his eyes, just as the door opened and Bess, Jesse, and Josiah slipped out. Jesse carried a worn blanket with what few possessions they had tied up in it.
Josiah rubbed his eyes, still half asleep. “Ben, Mama say somebody gonna buy me and take me away. You not gonna let them do that, are you, Ben? I gonna stay with Mama and Papa?”
Ben gave the boy a big hug. “Yes, you’re going to stay with your mama and papa. But we have to leave here and go far away, and we have to go as fast as we can. Can you do that, Josiah?”
He nodded and hugged Ben back, just as Bess laid her hand on Ben’s arm.
“Ben,” she whispered, “you be sure ’bout this? You givin’ up lots just for us and Josiah. Them tears in your eyes aren’t for nothin’, boy. Maybe we can do this by ourselves.”
“No, Bess, you can’t.” Ben’s voice quivered, but his tears were gone. “Come on, let’s get going.” Without another word, Ben led the way past the slave quarters and on toward the corrals, where he stopped for a moment to pat Traveler on the nose. He whispered, “You be a good boy, you hear? Maybe I can come back someday and take you with me.” The gelding nickered softly and rubbed his nose against Ben’s hand. Ben gave him a last pat and hurried on toward the northern edge of the plantation. The moon was so small it gave off only enough light to make out the shadows of the forest beyond the plantation.
They reached the woods and stopped for a brief rest. Ben opened his knapsack and took out the extra jacket. When he had helped Josiah put it on over the light one he wore, Ben pulled out the smaller pair of shoes he’d brought.
“Here, Josiah, put these on. They’re probably too big, but it’s better than nothing.”
“No, Ben, no shoes. And you’d best take yours off, too.”
“Take my shoes off? But, Bess, why? The ground is really cold.”
“Boy, don’t you know nothin’?” Jesse’s heavy eyebrows clenched together above his nose.
“Them dogs be trackin’ us, and they smell what’s on the shoes. Bess has onions we rub on our feets, then dogs can’t smell us.” He took an onion out of the blanket Bess carried and handed it to Ben.
Reluctantly, Ben took off his shoes and stockings and rubbed the onion all over his feet and up his legs. He barely managed to get the heavy shoes into the knapsack but he was determined not to leave them behind.
He picked up the knapsack, but stopped abruptly. “Oh no.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Jesse growled. “Why you stop before we even get goin’?”
Ben shook his head. “We need a lantern to find the trail I made. I left marks on the trees, but without a light we can’t see them. I didn’t think to bring the lantern that was in the larder.”
Jesse reached out and grabbed Bess by the arm. “Come on, woman, we go back. This here boy gonna bring us nothin’ but troubles. We go back ’afore Massa Tom wake up.” His voice was a growl, and Ben saw the anger on his face. It made his stomach twitch, and in that moment, he knew Jesse was not someone to cross.
Bess twisted out of her husband’s hand. “Jesse, you fool, you. We’re not goin’ back so Massa Tom can sell our boy.”
She turned to Ben. “What do we do now?”
“There’s a lantern in the horse barn. I’ll go back and get it, but you get into the woods so nobody can see you. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Jesse glared at Ben, but he guided Bess and Josiah into the woods. When Ben was satisfied that no one could see them, he took off at a run. He slowed down at the corrals, but nothing was moving. A couple of the horses nickered softly as he scurried into the nearest barn, causing a barn owl to offer a mild screech before it flew out. A breeze whiffled through, bringing with it the combined odors of sweat, horse manure, and faintly, the semi-sweet fragrance of the oil Ben used on the horse leathers.
When he reached the bench next to the tack room door, the lantern wasn’t in its usual place. He groaned, fearing it was in the locked tack room. He moved cautiously in the darkness, but his knee hit something hard, and he swore under his breath, glad that his mother wasn’t around. Ben felt around under the bench and found the lantern lying on its side. He picked it up, found the packet of matches still on the bench, and eased out of the barn. He looked around and started running for the forest.
When Ben reached the small group huddled together, he lit the lantern.
“Stay close, because I’m going to hold the lantern down as far as I can, so the light can’t be seen from behind us.”
What had been hard going in daylight, on horseback, was very nearly impossible on foot and in the dark. Sharp grasses, prickly weeds, and heavy vines scraped and twined around their legs. The brambles were thick and covered with thorns that caught in pant legs and Bess’s skirts, and tore at their hands when they tried to remove them. Fallen trees meant slowing down to climb over them, which was very hard for Josiah. He stumbled several times, and Jesse had to pick him up and carry him until the forest smoothed out a bit. They had passed two of the marked trees when Ben stopped. He looked at the tree with the “E” carved on it and realization dawned on him. “Dang it! We can’t leave it this way.”
“What, Ben? What’s wrong now?” Bess was looking at him curiously, but Jesse had another scowl on his face.
“I just realized if we can find our way by the marked trees, so can the slave hunters. We’ve got to cover up the carved letter as we pass each one. I don’t know exactly how to do that, though.” He stood staring at the tree, as if it might offer him a suggestion.
Bess and Jesse stared at him, not fully understanding what the problem was. Just as Jesse started to say something, Ben grinned.
“I’ve got it! Wait here, I’ll be right back. Don’t go any farther.”
He took the lantern and ran back through the trees until he found the first “E”. He took out his knife and carved a downward arrow below the letter. He came back to the second “E”, and carved an arrow pointing to the left, and another to the right.
Jesse shook his head and mumbled, “That boy crazy. He gonna get us in trouble, I knows it.”
Ben looked at him and laughed. “No, Jesse, I’m not crazy. I’m going to put arrows pointing in different directions on each tree I’ve marked. If the hunters do come this way and see them, they won’t know what the arrows mean or which direction to go in. Hah! I’m brilliant!”
The marked trees made it easier for them to work their way through the forest, but it still took much longer than Ben thought it would, especially now that he took the time to carve arrows below each of the “E’s”. Some arrows went down, some up, others to the left or the right. Ben hoped they would confuse anyone who came looking for them.
When he finally stopped, he had no idea how much time had passed since they left the plantation. The soft whoo whoo of barn owls broke the silence. He raised the lantern high and the mellow light cast shadows upon the rough surface of the barn. The memory of the slave who had come after him made Ben hesitate. Had they found the barn and tried to hide here? Or perhaps, somehow, found the hidden room and subsequently, the tunnel? He looked closely at the ground, but there were no new footprints around the barn doors. It doesn’t matter, he thought. This is the only chance we’ve got.
Ben handed the lantern to Bess and ran up to the doors. They creaked and groaned, but opened more easily than they had the first time.
He started in before he realized that Bess and Jesse weren’t following behind him.
“Bess? What’s wrong? We need to get inside. Hand me the lantern.”
“Ben, what is this place? Do you knows what you are doin’? How come we stop here, not go on to find the river?” Bess and Jesse were staring at him, clearly frightened.
“Oh, horsefeathers! I forgot I haven’t had the chance to tell you much of anything. Come on, get inside and I’ll explain it to you. It’s safe, I promise you.”
Ben spoke patiently as he told them about the barn, the secret room, and the tunnel beneath. “We’re all right, Jesse, I promise. I know where the room is, and I’ve seen the tunnel. Slaves used it a long time ago when so many were running away. We’ll go through the tunnel, and when we get out, we’ll be far away from the plantation. Come on, Jesse, please trust me.”
What he didn’t tell them was that he had no way of knowing how long the tunnel was, where it would end, or how they would get out of it.