Hazel’s heart raced. She thought about her grandfather, remembering that just because a person had a grumpy voice and an angry expression didn’t mean they were a bad person. And sometimes people with large smiles, compliments, and soccer balls weren’t the nicest…
Hazel felt terrible, thinking about the way she and her new friend had treated Bess earlier in the day. Hazel had only wanted to play with someone other than her sister for a while, someone she didn’t have to watch and be responsible for. She didn’t mean to hurt her sister’s feelings.
“Who is it?” the voice asked again, even louder, and angrier, this time.
“A friend with friends,” Harriet whispered.
The door swung wide open, and a large man with white fluffy hair and a thick black suit smiled out into the night. “It’s about time you got here,” he said as he and Harriet greeted each other. “I’ve been worried about you all.”
Harriet gestured for everyone to come inside. The house was warm with a fire going in the large fireplace against the back wall, and amazing smells came from the kitchen. An orangish yellow hue flickered off the hanging lanterns, causing shadows to dance across the walls and the furniture. Hazel remembered Harriet said it was the year 1849, and she remembered from her last trip in the time machine that indoor lighting wasn’t possible until the late 1800s.
Most of the group took off their coats and warmed themselves against the fire as Harriet introduced them all to her good friend, Thomas Garrett. “If I’m the conductor of this Underground Railroad you’re talking about, then this is a station master, and this house is a station.”
A thin woman in a long dark dress hustled in from the kitchen, carrying a pot of soup and some bowls. Her hair was covered in a dark black bonnet. Hazel guessed she was Mr. Garrett’s wife. The woman stopped short, almost dropping the pot when she saw the girls standing in the middle of the living room. Her mouth popped open and her eyes widened. “Harriet, who are these children?”
“Oh, we’re just hungry, cold fairies from the future,” Bess said, laughing so hard she almost stumbled in the large boots she was still wearing.
The woman got everyone started on their soup then took Harriet aside. Even though she was whispering, Hazel could still hear what she was saying.
“I don’t think it’s safe to bring unknown children to our house. What if they tell people?”
“And so what if they do tell people?” Mr. Garrett interrupted in the loudest voice Hazel had ever heard. “I’ve never made any secret about my feelings on slavery. It’s wrong, and I don’t care how many friends I lose or fines I have to pay. When someone is hurting someone else, the easiest thing to do in life is to turn your back and pretend you don’t see it. It takes courage to help people and do what’s right.”
Hazel gulped, thinking about soccer balls, frogs, and the way she had treated her own sister.
Mr. Garrett went to his closet and brought out a large bin full of boots and other shoes. “Try these on and pick out the ones that’ll work for you,” he said to the group. “I’ve got all sizes, women’s shoes too.”
Everyone stopped eating and eagerly looked through the box, trying on shoe after shoe, smiling and laughing. It was the happiest Hazel had seen the group since they started.
Mr. Garrett turned back to his wife. “And think of Harriet. Harriet goes down to the South time and time again. She doesn’t need to do that. She’s already free from slavery. But she risks that freedom and her life to go down across the border in the dead of night to help others. Now that’s real courage. I wouldn’t be surprised if she became famous someday.”
“She will be, or at least that’s what my sister says,” Bess said, barely looking up from the soup she was slurping. Messy drips fell all over the table as she ate. “And I think I heard about her in school last year.”
Everyone who was busy trying on shoes in front of the fire stopped and looked over at Bess like she was crazy. Hazel shook her head. Her sister was always saying the wrong things.
“See Harriet,” Mr. Garrett said, putting his hand on Harriet’s shoulder and chuckling. “It has to be true if a fairy from the future says it.”
Harriet laughed too. “Oh no. I don’t do any of this to be famous.”
The sound of new shoes being tested along the wooden floor planks of Mr. Garrett’s large house echoed throughout the living room. Most everyone had found a suitable pair from the shoe bin. Everyone except the large man who had given Hazel his jacket to wear earlier in the night.
“Do you have any shoes that’ll fit me?” he asked Mr. Garrett.
Mr. Garrett looked around. “I used to have a large pair. Whatever happened to them?”
Hazel suddenly remembered the boots on her sister’s feet, the ones their grandfather had given them to return to history.
“Are these the ones you’re looking for?” Bess asked, pulling them off her feet. They clunked on the floor in front of her.
“How did you get them?” he said, snatching the boots. He held them up to the light of one of the lanterns. “These are my boots. How long have you had them?”
“She’s been wearing them all night,” one of the men in the group said.
Bess pulled out her ballet flats from the cloth bag and slipped them on. “These are my real shoes. They go with my fairy outfit.”
Mr. Garrett took the cloth bag from Bess’s hands. “What else did you steal? Explain yourself. Did you girls break into my house and steal my boots?”
Hazel’s throat felt dry and she couldn’t speak. But worse, she had completely forgotten what her grandfather told her to say about the boots.