I arrive at the back of the saloon bar with a plan to steal a horse. I don’t know how that’s done, but I can’t catch up with Gloucester any other way. A line of ’em stands out front and I look around to see who might be watching. There’s no one about. I’m telling myself I got to be more like Joshua. I got to think like him, I got to act like I couldn’t care less. Anyway, I can always bring it back when I’m done, so it’s not really stealing.
I choose a black horse that looks strong and fast then saunter across to stand beside him. There’s still no one watching so I rest a hand on his neck to keep him quiet as I untie him. Any moment I’m expecting a hand on my shoulder or a loud voice shouting, ‘Hey! What d’you think you’re doing?’ but it never comes and I kick at his flank and ride away into the night.
Father Mosely had told me Gloucester was headed down South to a town called Darwin. From there he would take Joshua on to Alabama by train. The town was about a two-day walk from the camp, and I hope he’ll be using a mule, the same as he had with me. If I am quick and get lucky, I might still catch him.
Well, I ride that horse flat out and we go through the night without pausing to take breath or water. I’m thankful to have stolen myself a fast horse and to be riding under the cover of darkness. I even have a sliver of moon that lights my way across the flat earth.
I ain’t exactly sure when I pass into Confederate territory, but I keep a look out for firelight, assuming there’ll be patrols searching for runaways or deserters. I know if they catch me they won’t ask questions, but I see only one such fire, a glimmer of flame in the lee of a hill, and I ride around it at a distance where I can’t be seen or heard.
I reach Darwin just before dawn and there ain’t a part of my body that don’t ache. I come to a stop about half a mile short of the town, where the train tracks cross my path. Even in the dim light, I can see the station building on the edge of town. A line of roofs show the main street right behind it. My brother might already be there, locked up in a house or a shed. But I’ve no way of knowing where.
He might be waiting to board the train with Gloucester. If he does, he’ll be lost to me for ever. But do I dare to ride into town, bold as brass, and knock on all the doors till I find him? I won’t last more than a minute if I do, cos there’s nothing more suspicious than a black boy on a decent horse. They’ll probably sell me straight back into slavery or, worse still, lynch the two of us from a high beam as a lesson to their own slaves who might be thinking about running away to join the Yankees.
I have to think about that. I need to slow down and work it out.
I ride the horse back the way we came till we reach a brook and I let him drink while I work things through. His dark skin glistens with sweat as I pat him down. I got to do something, but I don’t know what. The longer I think about it, the less clear it becomes. What should I do? I begin to panic. What should I do? I can’t even think straight and my mouth goes dry and my heart beats faster than it should. I find myself looking around, hoping to find someone who can help me – anyone at all – but there’s nobody here, there’s nothing but scrubland and the faraway town, shimmering in the low light.
I try to be rational about it, but that don’t help. I just can’t see how I’m going to get him back if he’s already in town. The only thing I can do is to make sure I’m at the station when the train arrives and hope to snatch him when I see him. But in my heart of hearts I don’t think it’s got a chance in hell of working. I know it won’t. I’ll be lucky if I even get to see him.
And it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t cursed God, if I hadn’t turned my back on Him, perhaps Joshua would still be safe. And how come it was only yesterday that Gloucester came to take him? God had kept Him safe until then. I remember trampling on the altar at the camp. Was that when God decided he’d had enough of me and my brother? He’s punishing me – I know He is – cos I am unworthy of His goodness, and I have shown Him little faith.
Blessed are those that have not seen Him and yet still believe.
Blessed are the children in the arms of their Father.
I fall to my knees, right there in front of the horse. ‘Oh Lord Jesus, forgive me for I have been weak and selfish. I have thought only of myself and nothing of You. But please don’t punish Joshua. Give him back to me, Lord. Show me how I can find him. Because I need him. Do you see that, Lord? I need him and he needs me.’
I finish my prayer and stay on my knees, waiting. Above my head the horse snorts loudly, but God don’t say a word to me and I sit upon the wretched earth, surrounded by the silence. I look to the left and right of me, hoping there might be an answer in the rocks and sand, but there ain’t a rock on Earth that ever told anyone anything. A beetle scuttles across the dirt towards my knee. Is that a sign? I don’t see how it could be.
I scoop a handful of water to my face and wash the dust from the socket of my eye, taking care of where I touch. The Lord has not forgiven me. I would know it if He had. I would feel it. But I don’t feel anything ’cept a fear of Joshua all alone with that man.
I stand up and mount my horse. Ahead of me, the sun rises above the ridge. It’ll be warm soon. There are foothills in the distance and a scattering of small trees that might offer me some cover. I’ll wait there in the hope that Gloucester has made camp somewhere back along the road and I might meet him as he comes into town to take the train. It’s not much, but it’s the only plan I got.
So I go back the way I came, stopping my horse at the first trees I reach and I tie his tether to a wizened branch. Yes. This will do. I can still see the town from here, and if the train arrives I’ll have time to ride back and maybe get on board before it leaves.
I sit down on the ground to wait. The morning air is fresh and clear but there ain’t much to see or do ’cept to worry. I start to feel hungry. I’ve got nothing to eat and I can’t see how I’m going to find anything either. Not in this wilderness. In the sky above me there are ravens and a buzzard. They’re gliding in wide circles, floating on currents of air I can’t see and I don’t know how they do that without so much as a flap of their wings. They’re waiting for their breakfast to appear. See! There he goes now, that big ol’ buzzard, circling over one spot. He must’ve seen something.
And that’s when I spy the thin line of smoke that rises up into the air from somewhere below him. A fire! There must be someone with a campfire! Over there, in another stand of trees, about a mile further back along the road.
I rush back to the horse, untether him and mount up. It may not be Joshua, but someone’s there, I know that much, and I approach slowly, trying to keep a line that will shelter me from view. Once I’m closer, I dismount and take the pistol from my waistband. Did Gloucester carry a gun? I hadn’t seen one when he took me, but I wouldn’t bet against it.
I make for the left of the smoke, running quiet as a rabbit, until I look down on their camp from the top of a bank that sits fifteen feet above it. The scene is exactly as it had been for me. The mule stands on the far side of the camp and Gloucester is by the fire, crouching over the silver pot, dropping tea leaves into the open lid as he chews his stick of liquorice.
I look for Joshua. There’s a boy with a sack over his head, sitting at the foot of a small tree to my left and I’m sure it’s Joshua – I know it is. Seeing him all strung up like a chicken nearly breaks the heart of me. But I’ve found him! I’ve found him!
Gloucester stands up and stretches. He walks over to Joshua and crouches down real close. ‘So, boy, you got any idea what day of the week it is today?’
Joshua tells him it’s a Wednesday. I recognise his voice.
‘That’s right – it’s a Wednesday.’ Gloucester stands up. ‘You better remember that cos …’
I step out from behind my tree and start to scuff my way down the bank, my boots scraping against old roots and stones as I arrive, my gun already out and trained on Gloucester, as steady as I can keep it.
‘Well, what the … ?’ Gloucester sees me coming. He sees my face before he sees the gun. ‘Oh my good Lord, look at you. Now what in the Devil’s name—’
‘Put your hands up!’ I tell him. ‘Go on, do it!’
Gloucester puts his hands in the air. ‘Now hold on there … I am unarmed.’
‘Samuel?’ Joshua calls out, and his head moves quickly from left to right in the sack as he tries to locate me. ‘Samuel? Is that really you?’
I keep my eye on Gloucester as I clamber down the last bit of slope. He smiles uncertainly. ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere? I’m sure I do. Why, yes, you’re one of Father Mosely’s boys. Ain’t that right?’ He becomes less afraid of me and brings one of his hands down from above his head, stepping towards me like we’re long-departed friends and he might shake my hand. He must know I ain’t got the nerve to shoot him. He can see it in my face.
‘Don’t come any closer!’ I shake my gun and he hesitates. ‘I’ll shoot! I will! I’ll do it if I have to!’
‘Now you don’t want to shoot me. Why don’t we talk about this? I reckon you already found out what they do to niggers who go around shooting at decent folk.’ He takes a step closer, nodding at the gun in my hand. ‘You better put that thing away, boy.’
I step back and he steps towards me again, the stick of liquorice moving from one side of his mouth to the other.
Behind his back I see Joshua stretch himself out along the ground and start rolling towards us, his wrists still tied behind his back, the rope appearing and disappearing as he turns full circles in the dirt.
Gloucester takes another step, moving slowly into the space between us. He sees me swallow hard. ‘You ain’t gonna shoot me, boy’ He puts his hand out for the gun. ‘You ain’t got what it takes.’
But Joshua’s almost reached us. He’s arriving at the back of Gloucester’s legs. He’s on his way to help me out and he’s my only hope. Suddenly I shoot my mouth off, screaming ‘BANG!’ so loudly that Gloucester steps back, alarmed, and trips over Joshua, who is already there at the back of his heels, kicking out like a blind mule.
I am instantly upon the man, all kneecaps and fists digging down into his shoulders, but he rises up beneath me, too strong for me to hold. I hit him hard, on the back of his head, dropping the gun as I do it.
‘Aaargh!’ Gloucester falls flat on his stomach.
‘I’m sorry.’ I step away, horrified, as the man’s bowler hat rolls away on the ground, that ten dollar bill still tucked up inside it’s rim.
Gloucester puts a hand up to his head as a spot of blood appears and widens across the top of his bald patch. He snarls and rises on one knee. Joshua kicks him again and Gloucester turns on my brother, grabbing at the sack on his head. ‘Why you little …’ He slaps him hard. First once and then again, and I stand and watch him do it, knowing I got to act, hearing the Devil in my head, telling me to pick up the gun and shoot him dead.
There’s a rock at my feet, ’bout the size of my head, and I pick that up instead, lift it up to my chin and run the few steps to Gloucester. He looks up at me as I bring it down on him and the blow sends him crashing into the dirt. The sound it makes, the feel of it, turns my stomach. I stand there shaking, waiting for him to rise, still holding the rock in both hands but praying he won’t make me use it again.
Gloucester doesn’t move at all. He ain’t dead – least I don’t think so – but he’s dazed and breathing heavy, all the fight in him concussed.
I drop the rock and kneel beside Joshua, picking at the rope around his wrists with quick fingers. ‘It’s all right, Joshua. Just keep still,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll be quicker if you stay still.’ I work the knot loose till the rope falls to the ground and Joshua’s hands go straight to the cord that holds the sack around his neck. ‘I can’t do it, Samuel,’ he says. ‘It’s too tight.’
Beside us, Gloucester stirs in the dust and moans.
‘Hold on, Joshua.’ I run across and jump on Gloucester’s back again, forcing the air from his lungs and keeping my weight on him till I’ve tied his wrists using the same rope he used on my brother.
‘I got it!’ Joshua announces and I turn back as he takes the sack off his head. I still can’t quite believe it’s real, I can’t believe he’s actually right here in front of me.
I give him the biggest smile.
Joshua screams and scuttles away from me, looking like an insect exposed to the light, his eyes all wide in his face.
‘Samuel?’
‘Joshua?’ I creep over to him, my hand outstretched, the same way I’d approach a nervous dog. ‘It’s me. It’s Samuel. It really is.’
His face crumples in disbelief. ‘What happened to your face?’
I turn my head so he only sees my good side. ‘Whistling Dick came for me, Joshua. He came right for me and I forgot to duck, but I’m all right. I am, Joshua. I just don’t look too good.’
He crawls to me on all fours then reaches out to touch me. I don’t mind. I let him take his time and he holds my chin, turning my head to the left and the right till he’s searched every inch of my face. ‘It makes you look disappointed,’ he says finally.
That makes me smile. ‘I ain’t disappointed, Joshua. Not now I found you.’
He lets me hug him. After a moment he even hugs me back.
‘Does it hurt?’
‘Yeah, it hurts – though not as much as it used to.’
‘Hey!’ We turn around to find Gloucester has pulled himself up into a sitting position. The cut on the top of his head has puckered up like a pair of lips and a streak of blood runs around his neck like a noose. ‘You better untie me if you know what’s good for you. You keep me here like this and I’ll hang you myself when they catch you. I won’t even mind about losing the money.’
‘What are we going to do about him?’ Joshua asks me.
‘I don’t know.’ I put a hand on my brother’s shoulder once we’ve stood up. He’s grown a lot since I saw him last. ‘We better get out of here as quick as we can. We need to get back behind the Union lines. We should be safe then. I stole a good horse and I reckon it’s strong enough to take us both and still go quick.’
‘You stole a horse?’ Joshua laughs at me. ‘I don’t believe it!’
‘Why not?’
‘Samuel, you ain’t never done a thing wrong your entire whole life.’
‘I didn’t know what else to do. I’m gonna take it back.’
‘Thieves as well,’ says Gloucester, shaking his head. ‘I knew you two were no good. I knew it as soon as I saw you.’
Joshua bends down, takes the ten-dollar bill that is tucked into the rim of Gloucester’s bowler hat and puts it in his pocket. He looks at me sheepishly. ‘Well, I might as well, mightn’t I? If that’s what he thinks.’
‘HELP!’ Gloucester suddenly starts shouting out at the top of his voice. ‘Help me, someone! Thieves!’
‘Shut up!’ I snap.
‘Or what? If you had the guts to shoot me you’d have done it already.’ He turns around to face the road. ‘Help!’ he shouts out again and he struggles onto his feet.
A shot rings out and a bullet bites the ground, just an inch from Gloucester’s boot. Joshua has picked my gun up from the floor and he’s not scared to use it. ‘I ain’t as nice as my brother,’ he tells Gloucester. ‘Everybody says so. So you better do as he says or I’ll shoot you for real and be done with it.’
He points the gun at Gloucester’s chest as though the man has a heart. ‘Go get that horse, Samuel,’ he tells me with a grim face. ‘We better get out of here.’
I do as he says and when I return, Joshua has put the sack over Gloucester’s head and tied his hands to the back of his mule, same as he did to us.
I take a moment to apologize. ‘I’m sorry ’bout my brother, Mr Gloucester, but he’s been naughty since the day he was born, I swear he has. I’ve tried to teach him right from wrong, but I can’t do nothing with him.’
But I don’t set Gloucester free. I leave him where he is cos what goes around comes around. I’ve learned the lesson in that, and we leave him and his mule to wander blindly in among the trees as my brother and I ride away into the new day.
*
Joshua holds to me tightly, his arms around my waist as we make for the border. After a long while, he tugs at my shirt and puts his mouth to my ear. ‘I need to take a leak.’ I pull the horse to a stop in the lee of a large boulder and he wanders away to relieve himself.
‘You got a drink?’ he asks, when he comes back to the horse. I take Gloucester’s flask from the saddle and watch him swig it down. This Joshua is older than the brother I left behind, like he’s grown into himself without any help from me. And I don’t know how he did that. I always thought he needed me for everything.
‘Bet you’re surprised to see me, aren’t you?’ I ask him when he’s drunk enough. ‘I told you I’d come back for you. Didn’t I tell you? Bet you didn’t believe me, did you?’
‘You took your time.’
‘I know and I’m sorry. It took a whole lot longer than I thought it would.’
I tell him my story as best I can in a short time and he listens to me then says, ‘I thought it must be something like that had happened.’
I thought he’d be more impressed. ‘Didn’t you believe I’d been taken by the Devil?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe I did a bit, but I always had my doubts. We all did.’
‘And did you believe it was me that laid the turd?’
Joshua just shrugs.
‘Father Mosely was going to blame you. You know that, don’t you?’
Joshua nods like it’s no big thing. ‘We found out the truth when he came for Abel Whitley. We kept watch and saw what happened.’
‘How come Gloucester didn’t take you? You should’ve been the next one to go.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘But if you knew what was happening, why’d you stay? Why didn’t you tell someone?’
Joshua shrugs. ‘There weren’t no one interested. Anyway, I reckoned if I got took, I might end up in the same place as you and that wouldn’t be so bad. Not if we were there together. I wasn’t going to find you any other way that I could think of.’
It warms me up to know that Joshua had been waiting all this time to find me, just like I’d been waiting for him. I take hold of his hand and kneel. ‘I think we should pray to the Lord and thank him for everything He’s done.’
‘What for?’
‘Cos God just saved you, Joshua. He’s saved us both.’
But Joshua pulls his hand away. ‘You believe what you want, Samuel.’
He walks away from me, but I get up and go after him. ‘What if I told you that I prayed for you every day that I was away? I asked the Lord to keep you safe. I made a deal, to do good works in exchange for all the bad things I knew you’d be doing.’
But Joshua won’t look at me. ‘You didn’t need to.’ That’s all he says.
*
We head north, and by nightfall I’m sure that we must’ve crossed the border into Union territory. That gives me some comfort, and we stop to make camp. I have nothing to light a fire, and anyway, I wouldn’t want to risk it, so I tie the horse securely and lie down with Joshua at the back of a large boulder, hugging each other for warmth as the darkness comes upon us.
‘Do you know a place we can go?’ Joshua asks me just when I think he’s fallen asleep.
‘I’m going to take us to the Major. I’ve been thinking it through. He’ll help us, I’m sure he will, and even if he can’t look after us himself, he’ll know what we can do. He’s a good and righteous man, Joshua, and I’d like you to meet him.’
In the morning, Joshua convinces me that we shouldn’t return to Middle Creek with a stolen horse. ‘They won’t let you explain that you’re bringing it back, and it won’t matter anyway, cos you still stole it in the first place.’
I know he’s right.
We search out the road I travelled with Harry only a couple of days before and ride till we come to the outskirts of the camp where I spent so much time recovering from my injuries. I stop the horse to look upon it. ‘There it is, Joshua. Now all we got to do is find the Major.’
Joshua slides down from the horse. ‘Come on and get off the horse,’ he tells me. ‘If people see us riding it, they’ll ask all sorts of questions.’
I don’t know when he decided it was OK to boss me around, but I step out of the saddle and Joshua takes hold of the reins as we walk on down the road. The first army wagon we see, he calls out to the driver. ‘Hey, mister, we found one of your horses wandering on its own and bought it back for you.’
The soldier stops his wagon and looks at us suspiciously. He can see it’s a good horse and he knows it ain’t ours. ‘Where’d you find him?’ he asks.
‘About three miles back down the road.’ Joshua points the way and smiles at him sweetly, his little cheeks breaking out in dimples. ‘You can take him in if you like. Say it was you who found it. All we want is a lift into camp so we don’t have to walk.’
The soldier thinks about it, then comes around the rear of the wagon, ties our horse to it and lets us ride into camp on top of the boxes he’s got stacked in the back. Joshua plays the cute little kid by sitting up straight and saluting every soldier that we pass. Once we’re inside the camp he thanks the driver then says to me, ‘Where’d you say this Major lives?’
I lead him through the tents towards the redbrick buildings, knowing that the Major’s barracks are out the back of ’em, and I hear Old George singing before I even see him. ‘Here we are now,’ I tell Joshua, all excited cos it feels like I’m coming home. ‘That’s Old George, that is. He sits outside the Major’s hut and sings. I don’t know why, but he does.’
‘Perhaps he likes it,’ says Joshua, eyeing Old George suspiciously.
‘Hi there, George.’ I wave to him like an old friend as we step up on the porch. ‘This here’s my brother, Joshua. We’ve come to see the Major.’ Old George looks up at me but he don’t say nothing. He just keeps on singing.
We go inside the barracks, but find the Major’s room locked. ‘What’ll we do now?’ asks Joshua.
I recognize the servant who had attended to my bedpan. ‘Do you know when the Major will be back?’ I ask him, feeling bad at not knowing his name.
The man acts like he hardly knows me. ‘He ain’t been seen. Not since the day before yesterday. They reckon he’s either dead or taken prisoner. Most likely he’s dead.’
The news makes my heart stop as the servant walks away.
Suddenly this place feels cold and unfriendly as we stand outside the locked door. ‘What are we going to do now?’ Joshua asks me.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Ain’t there anyone else you know?’
I shake my head.
The servant comes back along the corridor, carrying fresh bed linen to another room. ‘You can’t be standing around here,’ he tells us and he lifts his nose in the air as he pushes past. ‘The officers’ll be back soon.’ He shoos us back out onto the porch. ‘Go on and get away now.’
‘You got no right …’ I begin to tell him but Joshua takes hold of my arm. ‘C’mon.’ He pulls me away. ‘We oughta find some food before it gets dark.’
So we walk back into the camp. We go from tent to tent asking for food, but no one gives us a thing till we offer to pay. By then I’m glad of the money Joshua stole from Gloucester’s hat. It costs us fifty cents for a plate of pork and rice and that ain’t cheap. We eat our meal at the side of the path, and when I try to say grace, Joshua makes a point of telling me that it ain’t the Lord who has provided for us, it’s him. ‘We need to be fending for ourselves,’ he tells me, and I take offence at that.
‘What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?’
‘I don’t know. I’m just saying, that’s all.’
It begins to rain as the darkness draws in and that don’t improve our tempers. The only shelter we find is a row of wagons parked up close to each other, near to where they keep the horses in a pen. Joshua spots a guard hunched under a tree, but we come around his blind side so he don’t see us crawling in beneath the big wheels, all dripping wet and silent. Sleeping under wagons ain’t exactly a bed of roses, but it’s the best we can do till morning.
Joshua leans against me like a rock, all hard and grumpy. It feels a long time ago since we were thrilled at finding each other. You’d think that sort of happiness would last a little while but it seems it don’t, not if you’re cold and uncomfortable.
Still, I feel bad about letting him down. ‘It ain’t much, is it?’ I whisper.
After a moment he says, ‘Could be worse.’
I take off my jacket and put it around his shoulders. ‘If you put this on properly, it’ll keep you warm.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’ll be all right.’
Joshua slips his arms inside the jacket and he feels a lot softer when he leans back against me. ‘I did try to be good when you were gone,’ he tells me.
‘How do you mean?’
‘I did my math. I tried harder with some of the other subjects too.’
‘I’m glad,’ Perhaps that’s what saved him the other times that Gloucester came to call. Perhaps it weren’t me at all. ‘Tomorrow we got to figure out what to do. There’s a place where you line up if you want to work. You got to be there first thing in the morning if you want to get chosen.’
‘OK.’
I don’t offer up a prayer for my brother as we go to sleep with the rain hitting the wagon just above our heads and dripping down through the gaps in the boards.
But I pray for the Major, hoping he’s still alive. Perhaps he’s been luckier than the servant said. Perhaps he’s been rescued by someone who’ll be as kind to him as he was to me. I sure hope so. And if not, may the good Lord take pity on his soul.