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were the same race. This set off a way of thinking that was
more alien to me than anything I had experienced up until that point.

"So all of us are here but at the same time our idees an'
our dreams is swimmin' in this river?" I asked.

"Exactly. It is in a place beyond space and time. It is an
other place that cannot be touched or seen or heard."

"Except if'n you spin that green powder," I added.

"No, but that's what Wall believes," John said in the dark.

"An' this Wall is also Andrew Pike?" I asked.

"Yes. His people, after they split off from our race, de
veloped a taste for the small trace of spirit that makes its
way into our bodies. They suck out the energy and souls of
sentient beings for their sustenance. But they're greedy;
they yearn to obtain the Upper Level where they can feast
on the God-Mind."

"So all this man Pike, who really is Wall, gotta do is dig
down an' git that green powder an' then everything gets
blowed up?" I asked, trying to string together all he'd said.

"No," John said. "First he must acquire a machine.
When Wall got here he sent off a message telling his people
to send this machine from a colony they have in this galaxy.
When it arrives it will be able to mine and then spin the
green powder. Wall and the Calash believe that this will
open the universe to their perverse appetites."

"How long before it gets here?"

"One hundred and eighty-seven years."

"We all be dead by then," I said, thinking that John and
I would probably be dead before the next day dawned.

"Maybe so," John said, "and maybe not. But regardless
there is another quicker way that he might attain the green
powder."

"What's that?" I asked.

Listening to his story I forgot my situation. I was more worried about that green powder than I was about the bugs
biting me and the heat sweating me to death.

"I came here in an extremely powerful craft called the
Sun Ship," he said. "The engine of that ship can be altered
to help Wall excavate the green powder. Wall must not
have it."

"And you took this ship on the Universe Ocean to come here?"

"Yes."

I didn't even understand most of the words he said. But I could feel the urgency in his tone. I could feel his fear.
And even though I was in dire trouble myself I worried
about my friend and my world.

We stayed in that hotbox all day. After a few hours I began
to swoon in and out of consciousness.

"I think I'd like to go up north now," I said to John once
when I had awakened.

"I can't take us for a while," he said. "My power was greatly weakened by the healing of Eloise. I won't be able to flee or even unlock these chains for a day or two."

What could I say? He'd only saved Eloise because I had asked him to. It was my fault just as much as his that we
were in the Tomb.

While we wasted away in the hot stench of our prison I
worked my wrists around in the manacles. My sweat made the skin so slick that I was finally able to slip free.

"John."

No answer.

"John."

A slight moan sounded from where my friend lay in the pitch black of our prison closet.

"John, I got my hands free," I said. "Maybe you could
too. Maybe we could get outta here an' run."

"Too . .. weak .. .," he whispered. "Too . .. hot..."

"But you gotta try," I pleaded. "If we don' get free an' run mastuh gonna kill us."

"No master...," he choked, and could not finish the
admonition.

I reached out and touched his shoulder. I could tell that
he was slumped backward, hanging down in his chains. This was the first time I had been with Tall John that he was helpless. I realized then that he was a person just like
I was, that he could suffer and need help too.

This was yet another major moment in my young life.
There I was in chains and still I was worried for my friend. I was trying to get free so that I could steal us both away
from Tobias.

That's what running away for a slave was
theft. Be
cause taking myself from the plantation meant that I was taking the master's property me away from him.

Somewhere in my mind I realized that it was absurd to
think that a person could steal himself. But I also knew
that if I told a white man these thoughts I would be put in
stantly to death, so I couldn't share my rebellious ideas
with other slaves.

Deep in my mind an even more radical thought had begun to form. I realized that I was free even though I was
clamped in chains and locked away. I was free because I
had made the decision to run away if I could. Most of the
slaves on the Corinthian Plantation would never actually
try to run away. They knew that they'd probably get
caught and whipped or worse. And I could see that the real
chains that the slave wore were the color of his skin and
the defeat in his mind.
Neither master nor nigger be,
Tall John
had said from the first moments we met. There in the worst
aspect of my slavery I came to fully understand those words'
meaning.

I felt the thrill of freedom in my heart.
"John," I said. "John, I understand. I know what you
been sayin'. I ain't got no mastuh 'cause I ain't no slave."

He sighed in the darkness but made no words that I
could understand. John's weakness set off a great trepidation in my heart. I believed that only he could understand
the freedom that I had just come to realize. Without him I
would be as lost as he was on the ocean called Universe.

"John, how can I help you?"

"Touch ..."

"What?"

"Touch my head ... with your hands," he said.

I reached out and felt around until I could feel the pulse
in his temples. One beat, two beats, three beats, four...
and then there came a bright yellow light that filled our
foul cell. I could see John sagging down in his chains with
his eyes closed and his breath coming fast and short like
the panting of a winded dog.

Then I was gone from the tomb and free from my
bonds. John and I were sitting side by side in crudely built
rocking chairs out in front of a small, ramshackle cabin that stood on a rise looking down over a pine forest. There were
larks singing and fat clouds floating in the blue sky over
head. John was there next to me.

At first I thought that I had swooned and fallen into a
dream.

"No," Tall John from beyond Africa said, answering my
thought. "You are not dreaming. We are here together
in our minds."

"Where are we?" I asked John. "I don't know. Don't you recognize this place?"
Suddenly I realized that we were in front of Britisher
Bill's place; a cabin that Una Turner's father had given to
the slave, Britisher Bill, when he earned his freedom. I used
to go there with Big Mama Flore and Mud Albert when I
was very small. Master Tobias would send us with a basket
of food that the old master had promised to deliver to
Britisher Bill every fourth Sunday for the rest of his life.

Flore and Albert would walk hand in hand and every
once in a while they'd stop and Flore would kiss Albert's cheek. Once they sat on a log and hugged for such a long time that I got bored and asked them when we were going
to leave.

"How did you know about Britisher Bill's cabin?" I
asked John.

"I didn't," he said, "the memory is in your mind."
Britisher Bill appeared in my mind then. He was older
than Mud Albert by far and he spoke in an accent that
people said was English. The old master had gone to Ja
maica long ago and purchased Bill for his personal manser
vant. He became so fond of the slave that he brought him
back to the Corinthian.

"But," I said, shaking the image of Bill from my mind, "if
you too weak t'work your magic then how did we get here?"

"The power is in your mind, Forty-seven. Your mind
brought us here. I merely showed you the way."

"So can my mind bring us water an' food?" I asked.
" 'Cause you know I sho am hungry an' thirsty too."

John leaned back in his rocker and sighed.

"You could imagine eating chicken," he said, and some
where I heard the cackle of a hen, "but when we go back
to our chains you will be all the more hungry."

"So we ain't got aloose from the Tomb?" I asked. "We
just daydreamin'?"

"Don't you like it better here than in that hot cell?" I looked around at the peaceful yard and the forest be
yond and thought,
Yes, this is better than chains.

"Back there," John said. "I'm almost dead. I wouldn't
be able to give you my last words, my council."

"You not gonna die, John," I protested, but in my heart I feared his words were true.

"I should have listened to you, Forty-seven," he said. "I
am well over three thousand years old and so I thought a
boy of fourteen couldn't tell me anything. I was so sure
that I could master Tobias just as he had mastered you. My
pride was my downfall and now I have put the entire uni
verse in jeopardy."

"You cain't be worried 'bout no universe when we in
trouble right now in the Tomb," I scolded.

"Right again, Forty-seven. I can feel my mind fading. I
must tell you what you need to know before I pass on to the Upper Level. Listen closely.

"I had intended to give you guidance and power with
which you could fight against Wall and keep him from his
mad plan. Now it's too late for that. I will die in Tobias's
chains but you may yet survive. If you do I want you to find
my yellow bag and study its contents. Certain items therein
will speak to you
"

"Things gonna talk to me like them oil seeds you use
for healin'?"

"You will see something," John said patiently, nodding
slightly as if he were tired and soon to fall asleep. "And
after a while you will have a nagging feeling at the back of
your mind. And soon you will know how to go about using
that thing."

I noticed that the sun was setting. This was odd be
cause when we first came to Britisher Bill's cabin, only a few minutes before, it was high noon.

"Time is running out for me," Tall John sighed. "I was
arrogant. I didn't listen to our hero."

"You not gonna die, John," I whined. "We gonna both
make it through this. You just tired, that's all. You just sleepy.
If Tobias meant to kill us he'da send us to Mr. Stewart's
killin' shack. All you gotta do is sleep an' build up yo'
strength. Tomorrow he'll prob'ly send us back to the slave
quarters. You'll see."

I helped John out of the rocking chair and laid him out on the ground.

He smiled at me and said, "So you forgive me for deliv
ering you into Tobias's hands?"

"Ain't nuthin' to forgive," I said. "It was me wanted t'come back. It's my fault we here."

Hearing this John smiled and then fell into a deep
sleep. As he closed his eyes the sun set on Britisher Bill's
cabin. In the darkness the pine forest and the sky faded,
becoming the close walls of our cell. The scent of pine was
replaced by the odor of human suffering. As the darkness
descended I realized that our cell might be an actual tomb
for both of us.