Belle (8 page)

Jeremiah and Jojo both took off at a run.

Belle, seeing the grimness on Daniel’s face but having no idea of the cause, asked, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes, pray. Pray that the person in here is still alive.”

He turned to Adam. “Let’s go, but take it easy.”

As the wagon headed for the back of the house, Belle followed it, too stunned to speak.

Adam stopped the wagon behind the barn so it couldn’t be seen from the road, and as Belle and Jojo watched, Daniel and the Morgan brothers used the claw hammers and the crowbar to loosen the nailed-down lid of the crate. Belle did indeed pray. Anyone desperate enough to ship themselves this way deserved to live.

Inside they found a bearded, middle-aged, dark-skinned man, lying in fetid, foul-smelling straw, but his body was so still, it was impossible to determine whether he was alive.

A concerned Daniel knelt and placed his fingertips against the man’s neck. The pulse, although faint, was steady. “He’s alive.”

Relief filled Belle and the others.

Adam asked, “Is he asleep?”

Daniel shook the body gently, first once and then again. “Doesn’t seem like it. Maybe took some type of medicine to make him sleep.”

Daniel shook him again. Still nothing. “Okay, let’s take him up to the house. I don’t think Mama would want him to be put in the hidey-hole, not while he’s like this.”

Belle agreed. It would probably terrify the man to awaken and find himself underground alone and unable to remember how he’d come to be there. She knew it would scare her to death.

“How about I ride over and get Bea once we get him inside?” Jeremiah offered.

Daniel nodded. “Good idea, but let’s see if we can get our guest on his feet. Adam, go out front and make sure nobody’s lurking.”

He hurried off. The last thing they needed were spying slave catchers.

Jeremiah and Daniel managed to get the unconscious man between them and threw his arms over their necks. His head lolled forward uselessly and the toes of his worn brogans dragged on the ground, but they were able to get him to the house.

“Let’s put him in my room for now,” Daniel suggested in a voice strained by the man’s weight. Adam grabbed the fugitive’s legs and the three young friends maneuvered up the stairs. When they reached the landing, Jojo ran ahead and retrieved a tarp from the chest in her parents’ room to place over Daniel’s sheets, then they gently deposited their charge onto the bed. He lay there as unmoving as he had been in the crate.

“What now?” Adam asked.

“Go and get Bea Meldrum; maybe she can figure out what’s ailing him or how to make him wake up.”

So Adam left. Daniel pulled a quilt over the man, then he and the others went back downstairs.

Belle said, “I hope Mrs. Meldrum can help him.”

“I do, too,” Daniel replied.

The dinner forgotten for now, they all sat down to wait for Adam to return with Bea.

Once
the white-haired Bea arrived she hastened upstairs. Seated on the bed, she felt the temperature of the man’s forehead, then eased back the lids of his eyes. “He’s been drugged,” she determined. “With what, I don’t know. It hasn’t killed him, so I suppose all we can do is wait until he comes around.”

The straw he’d been lying in had been fouled by bodily fluids, and he didn’t smell very pleasant. Bea noticed it, too. She waved a hand in front of her nose. “He’s pretty pungent. You want me to wash him up?”

Daniel nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

She smiled knowingly. “Get me a basin and towels.”

So while Jojo went off to fetch what Bea needed, the rest went back downstairs to wait.

A while later, Bea made her way back downstairs, and Daniel asked her, “How is he?”

“Still asleep, but cleaner.”

“Do you think he’ll pull through?” Belle asked.

Bea shrugged. “Hard to tell, but he’s got a strong pulse and he doesn’t seem to be in any kind of physical distress. All we can do is wait.”

Jeremiah asked, “Do you want me and Adam to take you back now, or do you wish to stay until he awakens?”

Bea answered, “I think I’ll go on home. There’s no telling how long he’ll be out. When will your folks be back, Dani?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Then you should be all right until then. You’ve managed freight before.”

Daniel nodded. He also had Belle and Jojo’s help. He doubted anything would arise that the three of them couldn’t handle.

Bea added, “But if he hasn’t awakened by, say, tomorrow this time, come and get me.”

“I will. Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bea then looked around at the faces of the young people filling the small parlor, and said, “You all did real well. The Vigilance Committee will be proud.”

The group basked in her praise.

Moments later, Adam and Jeremiah gave Belle departing bows, then escorted Bea out to their wagon.

Hoping it might brighten the air, Belle asked, “Does anyone want dinner?”

Daniel and Jojo nodded affirmatively, so Belle headed to the kitchen while Jojo and Daniel set the table. As they ate, conversation was sparse. The food was excellently prepared but no one felt much like eating. Their minds were on the unconscious man upstairs.

After the table was cleared, Daniel decided he’d sit with the man awhile in case he awakened, even though Belle volunteered. He told her, “It’ll probably be safer if I do it. We don’t know who he is. I don’t want to find out too late that I put you in harm’s way.”

He was holding her eyes and Belle felt as if she were drowning in them. She somehow managed to nod her understanding but found herself incapable of looking away.

Jojo took this in for a moment, then bent and peered first at her brother’s face and then at the face of her friend. She waved a hand between them. When they both started as if awakened, Jojo said approvingly, “Well, now.”

Daniel looked her way. Voice and face filled with brotherly irritation, he asked, “What?”

Jojo shook her head innocently. “Nothing. I’m going up to do my studies now. See you later, Belle.”

Belle thought Jojo’s pleased expression was very reminiscent of the knowing look Mrs. Best wore the day she and Francine found Daniel holding Belle in his arms. Belle wanted to know what the look meant, if anything, and decided to have a talk with Jojo later.

Daniel, on the other hand, knew that the more he stayed around Belle, the less he thought about Francine. “I should go and see how the guest is faring,” he told Belle stiffly. “I’ll see you later.”

That said, he left.

Belle thought his departure so abrupt, she wondered if she’d said or done something wrong. She couldn’t recall anything, so she decided whatever was bothering him must have been caused by something else.

Upstairs in his room, Daniel drew the drapes to close out the early evening sky and turned down the lone lamp. He then took a seat on one of his bedroom chairs. Their visitor was still asleep. The committee would want to interview him once he awakened so they could determine who he was and where he wanted to relocate. Daniel didn’t think his parents had been expecting such a uniquely packaged runaway, otherwise they wouldn’t have gone visiting. The crate’s sender, Mr. William Still, was one of the most famous conductors on the Underground Railroad. His station in Philadelphia had been visited by thousands of runaways and his knowledge of most of the other conductors nationwide made him a conduit not only for fugitives but for the dissemination of news and information relevant to the abolitionist struggle. Jere and Adam were owed a tremendous thanks. Were it not for them, the man might’ve died, never knowing he’d made it to freedom.

In the shadowy silence the man’s rhythmic snoring sounded even and strong, so Daniel picked up one of the many newspapers at the foot of his nightstand to pass the time. He glanced over an editorial summarizing the views of Mr. Abraham Lincoln, a contender for the presidency, but Daniel couldn’t concentrate; Belle kept floating across his mind. Jere and Adam were his best friends and well-known for their success with the ladies, but Daniel hadn’t liked them spinning their smiles around Belle. He doubted she’d ever encountered anyone as smooth as those two, and he didn’t want her to be hurt by their flirting ways. Or at least that was what he told himself. A more honest assessment would center on jealousy, but even though he’d already admitted his attraction to her, he wasn’t ready to own up to jealousy. At least not yet.

Had she ever had a beau, though? he wondered. As shy as she was, he tended to doubt it. He knew that many female captives were already breeding by the time they were Belle’s age, and because importing new slaves had been banned since 1807, slave women were often forced into having more and more babies. Was that one of the reasons she and her father had escaped? Daniel couldn’t imagine his sister having to face such a future. He was glad she’d never have to and as long as they kept Belle safe, neither would she.

A few hours later, Belle knocked softly on Daniel’s partially closed door and stuck her head around it. “How’s our guest doing?” she asked.

Daniel, seated in the soft, shadowy light, set his newspaper aside. “Still asleep.” He never remembered being so elated by one girl’s presence before. He wanted her to come closer and maybe sit with him while he waited for the man to awaken but knew it wouldn’t be proper for her to do so.

This was the first time Belle had ever seen the interior of Daniel’s room. Jojo was right. He certainly did have a lot of books. Dark wood shelves lined the walls. Belle could see him watching her, and as usual it left her a bit flummoxed. Proper young women weren’t supposed to visit a gentleman’s bedroom; she knew that, but she thought it might be all right if she stood here by the door, just for a moment or two. To cover her nervousness, she asked, “Is escaping in a box common?”

Daniel knew why she was choosing to stand in the doorway. Although her innocence touched him, he answered her question in a serious tone. “Not really, though it has been done a few times. First one I heard of was Henry Brown back in the forties. Folks call him Box Brown now. Shipped himself from Richmond to Philadelphia. Caused such a stir folks wrote songs about it.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

Belle echoed Daniel’s earlier thoughts, “Good thing the Morgans were at the station.”

Daniel nodded. “It might have been days before we knew the man was there. I’ll bet the letter Mr. Still sent my father alerting him of this arrival won’t get here until next week sometime.”

Even a former slave like Belle knew how notoriously slow the mail could be.

“Well,” Daniel said, “he made it—that’s what counts, and in one piece.”

Silence slipped between them then. He couldn’t take his eyes off her and she couldn’t look away.

Belle finally found the words to say, “Jo and I are going to do some sewing. If you need me, call me.”

“I will.”

“I’ll look in on you later.”

“That would be fine.”

Long after her departure, Daniel was still smiling.

The man in Daniel’s bed awakened at half past ten. He struggled to sit up. Noticing Daniel, he froze, then his wary eyes swept the unfamiliar surroundings.

“You’re safe,” Daniel reassured him.

The runaway tried to say something, but the words came out as a hoarse whisper.

Belle, who’d just come into the room to see if Daniel needed anything, quickly poured some water into a cup from the pitcher she’d left on the nightstand earlier. She offered the fugitive the cup, but his hand shook so badly she had to guide the vessel to his lips. “Slowly,” she cautioned.

His hands around her own were clammy and cold, but she set aside the unpleasant feel because he needed assistance. When he’d taken another few swallows, he nodded at Belle, then wearily dropped back against the pillows.

Daniel asked, “What’s your name?”

“Parker—Nelson Parker. Where am I?” he croaked softly.

“Michigan.”

His eyes widened and he bolted upright. “Michigan!”

Daniel had a curious look on his face. “Yes.”

The man slumped back against the bedding, then began angrily pounding his fists on the mattress. Tears streamed unashamedly down his bearded cheeks. As if deeply grieved, his head rolled slowly back and forth upon the pillow, and he whispered hoarsely, “Oh, Lily, why? Why?”

Belle looked over at Daniel. He appeared to be as concerned by the man’s demonstration as she.

Daniel asked, “What’s wrong, sir?”

As if talking to himself, the man replied tightly, “She knew I wouldn’t leave without her.” He beat his fists against the bed again once more, then to their surprise tried to get to his feet. “I have to go back—”

Daniel rushed forward. “Whoa, whoa. Hold on a minute, friend. You’re in no condition to go anywhere.”

The man’s attempts to push Daniel aside might’ve been effective before he’d come North, but being confined and drugged had left him so weak Jojo could’ve kept him in bed. Realizing that seemed to drain him completely. Seated on the edge of the bed he hung his head and began to sob as if his heart had broken.

Belle had seen only one other man cry so emotionally before: her father. He had cried just like this the day her mother was sold. Having his beloved Sara torn from his life had left her father even more bitter toward slavery. Nelson Parker brought thoughts of her missing father rushing back.

Daniel ventured forward. “Friend, is there anything we can do?”

“Yes,” he declared brusquely. “Send me home.”

Daniel’s lips tightened. “How about we talk about that after you get your strength back?”

Daniel handed the man a clean handkerchief. He made use of it, then slowly crawled back beneath the quilts. He turned his back on them and didn’t utter another word.

Outside the closed door, Daniel huddled with Belle and Jojo. “I guess we’ll have to wait to hear our guest’s full story. He seems real torn up, though. Hope he doesn’t try and leave.”

“He’s too weak to make it across the room,” Belle said.

Daniel agreed. “You’re probably right, but I think we ought to keep a close eye on him anyway.”

Jojo said, “I can take a turn.”

Daniel shook his head. “Both of you are going to bed.”

Belle asked, “But what if you need something from the kitchen?”

“Then I’ll just walk down and get it.”

“Daniel—”

“Belle—”

She smiled. He did, too.

Daniel then said genuinely, “You’ve both been a real help today, but time to go to bed. There’ll be more to do tomorrow.”

Jojo pouted mockingly. “Okay, but if I’m needed, come get me.”

“I will,” he replied.

Jojo asked Belle, “Do you believe him?”

Belle tossed back, “Not for a minute.”

Daniel grinned. Two weeks ago she would’ve never given him such a saucy reply. It was as if she’d finally become comfortable enough in her new surroundings to let her true nature rise and show itself. He sensed she was still shy, but not as much as he’d initially believed.

Jojo went into her room, but Daniel’s voice stopped Belle. “Belle.”

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Thanks for all your help.”

Buoyed by his praise, Belle replied, “Glad I could. If you wish to sleep later, I can come and sit with him.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine in the chair. I’ve also a pallet under the bed I can pull out if need be.”

“Are you sure?”

Daniel nodded. He searched his mind for something else to talk about so that she’d stay and talk with him a bit longer but knew he shouldn’t keep her. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Good night,” she told him.

“Night, Belle,” Daniel answered. “See you in the morning.”

Belle gave Daniel one last look from beneath her lashes, then headed to her room.

Lying in bed, Belle thought about Nelson Parker. She wondered what his story was. He’d seemed truly distraught. Had he been sent to freedom against his will? Belle couldn’t imagine wanting to go back now that she’d had a taste of what freedom was all about. She’d had no idea just how limited her life had been as a slave until the Bests entered her life, yet the man down the hall hadn’t seemed happy to learn he was no longer a captive. She wondered if he knew that here one could be oneself; that you no longer had to keep your eyes lowered or speak only when spoken to. Belle could look folks in the eye and voice her thoughts without fear of reprisal. She could come and go. Having the chance to do something besides be hunched over a needle all day, she found every day to be a new experience. It occurred to her that now that she was settling into this new life, maybe the time had come to start exercising those parts of herself she wished to explore, to shed the invisible shackles slavery had forced her to wear and begin to build the person she wanted to become. She could be as poised as Mrs. Best or as confident as Jojo. Given time, she could be just about anyone she chose to be. The contented Belle was still mining the possibilities as she drifted off to sleep.