December 23, 1858
Off the Coast of Georgia
Eli obtained a first class compartment for the one day trip to Charleston that very evening. Once they were finally alone, Ellie embraced Will and told him about her unnerving trip with Mrs. Henderson and Mr. Cray. “Mrs. Henderson worries me, the close way that she watched me more than once, but I believe we are safe so far, praise God.”
“It’s hard for me to leave you alone, Ellie. Every time we separate, I worry something unexpected will happen to you and I won’t even know what it is.” Will shook his head. “And I can’t believe that old man Cray didn’t recognize you after sitting barely a foot away all that time. He’s always been a damn fool.”
“I was certain we’d be discovered,” Ellie said wearily.
Will put his arm around her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Well, you’re no fool, and if you made it through that, you can make it through anything. So maybe the worst is over.”
“We don’t know, Will,” she answered. “It’s a long way to Philadelphia.”
Exhausted, they were both soon asleep, Will in his slave quarters and Ellie in her first class cabin. The next morning, Will helped Ellie again dress in her man’s attire.
“I am starting to feel like Ellie again, and I can’t,” she said. “I am a man. I am Eli. And I am really tired of having my right arm in this infernal sling. It is tiresome and awkward not to use my hand.”
Will nodded sympathetically, but they were both on edge.
Making the effort to become Eli again, he said, “I don’t want to go to breakfast. I have no appetite.”
“It’ll attract notice if you don’t,” said Will.
“We could say that I’m sick.”
“You already retired early last night. If you skip breakfast, there will be inquiries. The captain will visit me to see what’s wrong. You know, Mr. Johnson, you’ve got to be invisible, and you can only do that by being where everyone expects to see you. If you try to hide it will attract attention.”
“Yes, Billy, you are correct as usual, ironic as it may be.” Eli smiled at Billy.
When they entered the dining room, Eli was shown to a seat next to the Captain himself. Eli realized his clothes were more sophisticated and expensive than those of most of the other passengers, marking him as a planter of some means, undoubtedly why he was accorded this honor.
“I’m sorry I did not get a chance to welcome you on board last night,” said the Captain, a burly, good-natured fellow with a sun-crinkled face and full dark black beard shot with silver. Extending his hand, Eli awkwardly shook it with his free hand. “I’m Captain Miller.”
“An honor, sir. I am Elijah Johnson.” Eli nodded behind him to William. “And this is my boy, Billy.”
The Captain introduced Eli to the other passengers gathered around the table.
“I was worried about you, Mr. Johnson,” said the Captain. “As soon as you boarded the ship, you retired to your room. How are you feeling today?”
“Better,” Eli answered. “Sadly, I have a severe case of rheumatism and am subject to migraine headaches, which is what forced me to my cabin last night.”
“That is a real affliction,” piped in one of the other passengers, a portly looking gentleman in a slightly frayed coat. “My mama suffered from them something fierce. With nine children to look after she couldn’t spend much time resting and oh, how the light did make her groan. God rest her saintly soul.”
“I thought your darkened glasses indicated you had such a sensitivity to light,” said the Captain. “But I’m glad to hear it’s nothing worse. As I’m sure you can understand, a captain always fears for the safety of all his passengers when one falls ill. A contagious disease on the close quarters of a ship is a serious threat. However, I can see we have nothing to fear from you. I’ve never heard that the migraines are contagions.”
“No, indeed,” said Eli. “You are all quite safe. These are afflictions that have annoyed me for some time, but they have recently grown worse. I am, in fact, on my way to Philadelphia to see a specialist who came very highly recommended to me by a recent visitor from that city.”
“I’ll give them Northern bastards that, they got damn good doctors” said another man. He was well dressed, but something in his manner suggested to Eli he himself was made of a cruder material than his clothes. “Most of these Southern quacks don’t know rheumatism from spit.”
“I take it you are a planter?” the Captain asked Eli.
Good God, thought Eli, why am I the center of conversation? “Yes,” he answered. “I am, sir.”
“Where is your plantation?”
Eli answered it was near Macon, Georgia, hoping no other passengers knew the area and that there was, in fact, no Johnson family plantation located nearby.
“How many niggers you own?” asked the crude but well-dressed man.
“About sixty,” said Eli.
“About? Don’t you know? A man that don’t know how many niggers he’s got ain’t managing his property, sir.”
Eli smiled, though he would rather have spit at the fellow. “Two of the women are pregnant. They may already have delivered, and I might well now have 62.”
The man laughed. “Well, you have me there. That’s the great benefit of investing in niggers.” He reached across the table and extended his hand, and then seeing Eli’s right hand in a sling, withdrew it. “The name’s Forrest, sir,” he said. “Nathan B. Forrest. I’d shake your hand but I see you are not able.”
Eli nodded and smiled. “A pleasure, Mr. Forrest,” he said. “I’m Mr. Johnson.”
“Niggers may reproduce,” said another passenger, “but they die off, too. I lost a passel to the black water fever last summer and that’s a fact.”
“Well,” said Forrest, “the trick’s to sell ‘em off when they’re just on the far side of their prime. They still fetch top dollar but you avoid their declining years.”
There were general nods of agreement.
A hearty platter of eggs, steak and potatoes appeared before Eli. Will stepped forward and cut the meat into pieces for Eli, since he could not manage both a knife and a fork with his right arm in the sling.
When he finished Eli said, “Thank you, Billy. You may go now.”
The rest of the breakfast continued with yet another discussion of slavery, as it turned out that Mr. Forrest was a slave trader. He counseled Eli not to take Billy to Philadelphia because slaves generally tried to escape when they arrived in a non-slave holding state. Even more absurdly, Mr. Forrest offered to buy Billy with “hard silver dollars, none of that paper money.”
Eli thanked the gentlemen for his advice and offer of assistance but said that he trusted his boy Billy. “I have great confidence in Billy’s fidelity,” Eli said.
Forrest snorted and hunched forward over the table staring at him as a snake might watch a mouse it was preparing to swallow whole.
“Fidevil,” spat Forrest, banging his fist down on the table. “It always makes me mad to hear a man talking about fidelity in niggers. I was employed on one of the biggest plantations in all of South Carolina for ten years doing nothing but breaking in niggers. So I know my business and I tell you as a friend that you had better sell that Billy now. He is a keen nigger and I can see from the cut of his eye that just as sure as God made little green apples he will run away. I tell you the only prudent thing is to sell him to me right now before you’ve lost him. Just name your price.” He leaned forward staring aggressively at Eli.
“I am ill and need his services. Besides, he’s the best slave I have, and he is not for sale, Mr. Forrest,” Eli answered in a firm voice.
The other passengers listened intently to the discussion. So much, thought Eli, for being invisible.
Forrest shook his head and frowned, leaning back in his chair. Turning to the Captain he said, “Captain, if I was the president of this almighty United States of America, the greatest and freest country in the whole of the universe, I would never let a man, and I don’t care who he is, take a nigger into the North and bring him back here filled to the brim, as he is sure to be, with damned abolitionist ideas and vices. He will taint every quiet nigger he meets with the hellish spirit of running away.”
“Mr. Johnson,” said the Captain leaning close to Eli and speaking in an undertone, “you’ll excuse the excitement. As you know, sentiments currently run high against the North. Although I think you do error in taking your boy with you to the North, I understand the necessity in your current condition as do most of the others here, I’m sure. After all,” he smiled, “it is obvious you are no damned abolitionist. Still, we will be docking soon in Charleston. I suggest you retire to your cabin and make preparations for disembarking.”
Eli nodded. Forrest, he saw, showed no signs of losing steam. In fact, he glowed in the attention he attracted. “Excellent advice, Captain,” said Eli. “The atmosphere here has become a bit overheated for my taste.”