The paper Crystal had taken from her father’s desk rested heavily on her conscience. That night, even with the candle extinguished, she could see the words in front of her. Joseph, age thirty-seven, light of skin, gray eyes. Field hand with one leg injury. Number 9766. Her father had paid one hundred fifty dollars for him.
She tossed in her bed while it seemed Joseph’s sad gray eyes followed her. And it seemed she must make some decision. She had nearly decided what to do when the blue eyes of her father appeared beside Joseph’s. They blazed with wrath, and Crystal trembled.
Morning was nearly an extension of the night. At breakfast time, Uncle Pierre walked into the room. Crystal saw the hard, white line of his lips and quickly rose to bring him coffee.
Addressing Father he said, “Three slaves disappeared during the night. One was yours.” His gaze wandered to Crystal as he continued. “I suspect someone has been passing information. Your Joseph has been a contented man nearly two decades; why does he suddenly choose the life of an outlaw?”
Crystal’s hand trembled on her fork. Keeping her head down, she listened.
“I’m not surprised about the other two. I’d heard rumors of a boat in the vicinity, suspected of offering shelter to runaways.”
Father’s voice was icy. “Did they carry identification?”
“Not a thing. I have their papers, and I’ve not given them tags for this very reason.”
Crystal lifted her head just as her father nodded. “Of course you know I’d feel the same way. Neither does Joseph have a tag. This means the lot of them will either escape to the North, be picked up as runaways and sold by the state, or we’ll hire someone to bring them back.”
Pierre nodded, “I have a name. A new fellow. Claims to have good success or there’s nothing left to be sold. If you’ll give me Joseph’s paper, I’ll be on my way.”
“Of course.”
Crystal watched her father touch the napkin to his lips, nod at Mama, and follow Uncle Pierre out of the room.
Her mother’s words captured her attention. “It is distressing,” she murmured. “How I yearn for the old days when we didn’t have worries such as this.” She handed the jam pot to Crystal and leaned across the table. “Your grandfather trusted the slaves completely, even to take care of his babies. We wouldn’t have dreamed of treating them harshly, and they all loved us.”
Father returned and was standing in the doorway. Crystal had heard him coming, and his footsteps weren’t reassuring. She pressed her back against the chair and waited. He spoke to Mama, but it was Crystal he watched, “My dear, something has come up. I must go with Pierre.”
“Whatever—”
“I suspect a conspiracy. Joseph’s paper is missing. There were only family members and Cassie in the library yesterday. Of course I will speak to her before I leave.”
“Oh, dear,” Crystal moaned behind her napkin. “This is unfortunate, but Papa, it’s even worse than that. Do you suppose there is going to be a slave uprising?” Silently he watched her and she was conscious of the flimsy drapery of her words.
When he left the room, she was on his heels. “Mama, pardon,” she called hastily. “Papa,” she caught up with him, “Did you tell Mama—”
“Of course not. Crystal, what do you know about this?”
Slowly she said, “I didn’t see anyone in the library, but I did go to my room soon after Cassie finished.”
“Tomorrow I was to take Lithie and Joseph to market.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “You must not fight this.”
“Papa, most certainly I wouldn’t interfere—” Her mind was busy with schemes of getting the paper back with the others. She turned back when he went into the kitchen. Crystal hesitated a moment and then hurried to her room.
Auntie T was there. Crystal stopped when she saw the paper in her hands. Slowly she closed the door behind herself.
With the piles of freshly laundered clothing surrounding her, Auntie T sat on the bed, holding the paper. As Crystal approached the bed, Auntie T lifted her troubled face. “You know?”
“Yes, I know all about Joseph and Evangeline,” Crystal said. “And Papa said to say nothing to you. Why?”
Auntie T shook her head slowly.
“Did he think you would encourage me to do something?”
“Oh my! No, your daddy would never think such.” She smoothed her apron and looked at Crystal.
Crystal endured the steady gaze as long as she could. Finally she stated, “I see you want to say more. You know where he is?”
Tammera nodded.
“They are going to sell him because he is no longer able to work in the cane fields.”
Tammera winced.
Crystal tried to guess her thoughts. Slowly she asked, “What will happen to Joseph if they find him?”
“Tain’t if. It’s when. They’ll beat him good, and when he’s well, they get rid of him. No place around for a slave you can’t trust.”
“Then take the paper and give it to him. I won’t say a word.”
Tammera dropped the paper and stared at Crystal. “Me? I wouldn’t live through a whipping.”
“Papa would do no such thing to you. Why, you’re family!”
“Maybe sell me down the river to chop cane ’til I die. Never done a thing like that in my life.” She looked at Crystal with troubled eyes.
“Auntie T, I can see from your eyes that you have a scheme all planned. You might as well tell me.”
The woman’s face crumpled into troubled lines as she began to talk. “You know your mama’s folks in Natchez, Mississippi, have been inviting you to visit for two years now. Might ask your papa if you can go.”
“He won’t let me go alone.”
“I ’spect most likely I would go along.” With an apologetic glance at her, Tammera continued. “You leave home with one nigger, get on the boat with two.”
Crystal blinked. “How can that happen?”
“You don’t worry; just remember to bring this paper.” She handed it to Crystal.
****
The late May sunshine burned with August heat as Crystal and Auntie T hurried from the carriage to the Mississippi Queen docked at the New Orleans wharf. Crystal’s father led the way.
Auntie T was puffing by the time they reached the first deck. As they stopped at the railing to wave at the distant figure in the carriage, Auntie T said, “It’s a good thing your mama stayed in the carriage. It’s too hot for her to be walking like this.”
Papa turned from directing the porters, saying, “I only wish she were able to make the trip with you. It must be cooler in Natchez.” He left the railing, nodding toward the pilothouse as he said, “Come along. The captain is also signaling his distress at the heat.”
He checked the slip of paper in his hand and led the way up to the next deck. The porter was there, smiling and nodding as he opened the door for them.
Crystal saw the quick glance Tammera used on the two small rooms. That glance sent Crystal’s heart to beating slow and hard. She watched Papa tip the porter, inspect the bouquet of flowers, and then come to kiss her. “Have a good summer, and don’t forget to write to your mama.” Turning to leave, he looked at Tammera and said, “I’ll leave your bag here and leave it to you to get it down to your room.”
When Tammera closed the door behind him, she wilted. Staggering to a chair, she dropped and fanned herself vigorously. Abruptly she sat up. With a quick grin in Crystal’s direction, she said, “Me? I saw that look, Missy. I don’t go around hiding things from Monsieur Cabet.”
She fanned harder. “I ’spect he’ll wait until we’re headed upriver, and then he’ll appear with a nice cool drink.”
Auntie T was right. Crystal watched him back into the room with his little cart. He was dressed in spotless white. Only his quick, bright glance at her revealed the conspiracy.
She waited until he had served her. His hand trembled on the goblet of fruit punch as he arranged the napkin on the table beside her. Avoiding his eyes, she murmured, “Joseph, will you please serve yourself and be seated?” From the corner of her eyes, Crystal saw Tammera’s pleased smile.
The goblet wafted coolness against Crystal’s skin, but she dared only touch her lips to the rim as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
Finally she realized she must break the silence. “I saw Papa’s record of family history. My birth was listed. This is the first I knew—I mean, I didn’t know they weren’t my parents.”
He was still silent. She added, “Last year, before I went to Boston for schooling, I found a letter. It was very old, and the address contained the name Evangeline Cabet, and a street address in Boston.
“I suppose I wouldn’t have tried to find her had it not been for the fact Mama was so very upset with me when she found me holding the letter.”
The gray eyes were watching her intently. She knew the question. “She hasn’t been in Boston for years. Father told me she’s married and lives in France. They haven’t heard from her for a long time.” Is that pain or relief in his eyes?
Crystal sipped her drink and mused over the situation. It is very romantic, except—she looked at his dusky skin and bowed head—I am the one who must suffer. How do I act toward him when I am filled with anger? Why did my mother do that; why did she leave me?
As if he sensed her thoughts, he stood and moved quietly around the room, gathering the napkins and goblets. Then he spoke. Facing her and lifting his chin, he said, “This is bad for you, yet you are good. I will not embarrass you. You must not admit—” He couldn’t say the words his pleading eyes revealed. There was pain in their depths and that pain only puzzled Crystal.
He had rolled the cart to the door when she asked, “What are you going to do?”
“I think that is up to you. Tammera said you have the paper. You could sell me, or you can let me escape. I would go to Canada.”
Tammera gasped. “The freedom road. Joseph, it is long and hard. I don’t think your poor leg would take you there.”
He shrugged. “Missy, it is worth a try.”
As he closed the door behind himself, Crystal sighed heavily. Tammera fanned and watched her with a thoughtful expression on her face as Crystal paced the room. Finally she asked, “Will we see him again?”
“Of course.” Tammera took a deep breath and said, “He’s listed as your slave, and will be sleeping with the servants below. I’ll just bed down on the daybed here.”
“But I thought you were sleeping below?”
“No, don’t you understand? When I was signing up for a room with the other servants, I was actually registering for Joseph.” And then Tammera started to chuckle, “Which is why Joseph has a room with the female servants!”
****
Joseph served their meals and tidied up after them. And Tammera enjoyed being waited upon. Her large frame shook with merriment as she ordered him about and allowed him to place pillows at her back. After the first day, Crystal began to see the humor in the situation and chuckled along with Tammera.
One afternoon, as Joseph tidied the room and gathered the luncheon dishes, Tammera settled herself for sleep. Crystal rose and restlessly walked around the cabin.
As she turned, she saw Joseph watching her. Quickly the light in his eyes faded and he averted his head. But the expression reminded her of the day at Uncle Pierre’s. She said, “That day we went riding at Pierre’s, did you know who I was?”
He shook his head. “I’d seen you once when you were a tiny child, but they did their best to make certain it didn’t happen again.” He lifted his face, and she knew that for the moment he had forgotten his role. “I was proud. Such a beautiful woman and my—” Abruptly he turned away.
He started for the door. “Joseph.” When he turned, she saw the glint of tears in his eyes.
“Missy, I guessed. For a minute when I first saw you, I thought I was looking at your mother.”
Over the lump in her throat, she whispered, “Thank you for caring. I’ll try to do what is best for you.” He was nearly out the door when she asked, “Why didn’t you and my mother run away?”
He dropped his head. “I am a poor foolish slave. How could I care for her and for you? I would not go. Maybe she hates me too.”
“What made you decide to run away now?”
“Cassie got word to me what your father was planning to do. I got scared.”