Billy Boy (13 page)

“But the army—”

“We wait here, just 'til dark. Elijah listen good for the army, won't let nobody find us.”

“All right then.” Nestled under the fir trees, Billy and Elijah ate the last raw potato and drank water from the canteen before settling in for the long wait until evening.

Chapter 13

A
s soon as the stars appeared, Billy and Elijah headed out. They moved off in the direction of the star.

In the early darkness Billy stumbled, fell onto his knees, and found himself on hardened sand. Suddenly he glanced in either direction. “This here's a road. The North Star went and led us right to a road.”

Walking on flat ground was easier, and they moved at a steady pace through the wooded countryside. Just before daylight, they veered off the road into a pine grove, and made beds of leaves and dried pine needles. After just a few hours' sleep, Billy awoke. Impatient at remaining in hiding for the rest of the day, he woke Elijah and prodded him to continue down the road. Reluctantly Elijah agreed, insisting they hug the woods that flanked its edge.

A short while later they heard the clamor of hooves behind them. They ran into the thicket, ducked behind a scrub bush, and watched silently as a pair of horses trotted by pulling a wagon, plump burlap bags piled in the tailboard. The driver wore a broad-brimmed black hat, and talked and gestured animatedly to the woman sitting next to him wearing a large white bonnet. Billy and Elijah waited until the wagon was safely out of view and then scurried down the side of the road listening for sounds, careful to move within the cover of the underbrush. After several miles, the wooded lane opened onto a sweep of yellowish-green fields.

“Them fields all alfalfa,” Elijah said as he hurried through the deep green growth to a giant flat boulder crowning the hillside.
He leaned against the rock's smooth, sun-warmed surface to rest his back. Billy climbed to the flattened top and, using his hand to shade his face from the blinding sunlight, gazed out across the rolling landscape. In the far distance, he spotted a white steeple rising above a cluster of dark green spires. “There's a town over in them trees. Sandy Spring, I'm thinkin'.”

Elijah climbed to the top of the rock, craned his neck, and looked out across the fields. “Yes, suh,” he said as he studied the landscape. He turned and faced Billy. “Elijah stay on this here rock. Billy, suh, you go to town and see if it be Sandy Spring.”

“How am I gonna do that?” Billy asked.

“Town be havin' a sign somewhere.”

Billy looked down. “Can't read no sign.”

Elijah turned a puzzled look at him. “Can't read? But white folk get schoolin'.”

Billy's cheeks burned crimson. “Had trouble with learnin'.”

“It's all right, Billy, suh.” Elijah turned and looked at Billy, flashing a wide grin and nudging his shoulder. “Now you be just like Elijah.

“Now you listen good,” Elijah said, staring into Billy's eyes. “You go to a store and ask where Sandy Spring be. You don' say nuthin' about your nigguh friend. And you don' say nuthin' about the army. Then you come right back!”

“All right, then. Still got them coins in my haversack. Maybe I can buy us some bread.” Taking the coins from the pouch, Billy stuffed them into his trouser pockets.

Billy walked along the busy main street and studied the colorful storefronts, each a striking contrast against the drab, gray buildings. He spotted a general store at the corner and hurried inside, where he was greeted by whiffs of freshly baked bread. Overcome with sights and smells he had not seen since
Berwick, he stood mesmerized in the center of the aisle, staring at the well-stocked shelves. A fair-haired lady holding a straw basket moved by him and offered a gentle smile. He smiled shyly back and headed toward the counter. Nervous, aware of curious stares, he stepped timidly past a group of men sitting around a potbellied stove and leaned his elbows over the worn countertop. Jars of candy sticks and golden candied ginger captured his attention.

A plump man, nut-brown sideburns framing his ample cheeks, appeared behind the counter. “What can I get for you, young fella?” he asked, peering over his spectacles.

“I'd like me a loaf of bread.”

The storekeeper grabbed a round loaf off a shelf behind him and set it on the counter. Taking a step back, he placed his hands on his hips and waited.

His head lowered, Billy pulled the coins from his pocket and arranged them in a neat row beside the bread, too fearful to look up and catch the storekeeper's watchful gaze.

“That's more'n you need.”

“Then I'll have me some cheese.”

The storekeeper lifted a block of white cheese from the glass case, sliced a wedge, and placed it on a scale. He studied the scale, glanced back at the row of coins, then wrapped the cheese in brown paper and tied it with string.

The fair-haired lady moved up beside Billy, her shoulder brushing lightly against him. In an instant the sweet scent of lavender perfumed the air.

Billy continued to stare at the money, wishing Harry were standing beside him.

“Just take what you need is all,” he mumbled finally. He stole a glance at the sweet-smelling lady. He thought she was
the prettiest thing he had ever seen, what with her thick flaxen hair, the stray wisps curling around her face.

The burly storekeeper shook his head, placed his palms on the counter, and leaned into Billy's face.

“Have the money you need there, Hiram?” the fair-haired lady asked in annoyance as she set her basket on the counter. The storekeeper counted the coins, dropped a fistful in his apron pocket, and pushed the rest toward Billy.

Billy's eyes widened in surprise, and he darted a quick glance at the jars of candy. He had already spotted the candied ginger, but was too nervous to use his fingers for counting the pennies the way Harry had taught him. Maybe there was enough money for one piece. “Some ginger candy, please.”

The storekeeper scooped up the remaining change. “You from around these parts?” he asked, putting several ginger slices into a small paper bag. He turned and hesitated, dangling the bag in the air, waiting for an answer.

“No—no, sir.” Billy said. “Is this Sandy Spring?”

“What business you got in Sandy Spring?” The storekeeper asked, arching his eyebrows.

“We was—I mean, um, I was needin' to get there is all.”

“We? Who's we?”

Fumbling with the button on his shirt and shifting his weight, Billy made no reply. He looked over at the fair-haired lady again and then lowered his gaze to the floor.

“You and your friend—walking, are you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You'll get there by nightfall. Looking for someone in Sandy Spring?”

After a long hesitation, Billy answered, stumbling on his words. “I ain't supposed to say.”

“Got you a pair of bootees, I see, boy,” said a voice behind him. Billy spun around. One of the men sitting beside the stove glared at him, and then looked down at Billy's boots. Pockmarks dotted his face. He leaned over and nudged the man next to him, pointing a finger at Billy's boots. “Ain't them army boots you wearing, boy?”

“What do you mean, you ain't supposed to say?” The storekeeper had raised his voice. “Why—”

“That's about enough of your questions, Hiram—and yours, Peyton,” the fair-haired lady interrupted. “This young man didn't come in here to state his business—or to discuss his boots. Give him his bag of candy and let him be.”

Billy turned his face to the fair-haired lady. She spoke to him softly. “Get your goods. I'll help you find your way to Sandy Spring.” Then she turned and offered an icy glare to the storekeeper.

Hiram tossed the bag to Billy.

“Well, Cyrus, I've a feeling you'll be doing some scouting down the turnpike later,” said Peyton.

The fair-haired lady bristled and nudged Billy toward the door. She took his arm and escorted him down the shaded street and around a corner. Finally she stopped and faced him.

“That's the Norbeck Road over there,” she said, pointing her finger. “Follow it to the Washington-Brookville Turnpike. When you reach the crossroads at Olney, take the road to the right. It goes straight into Sandy Spring.” Her lovely face widened into a smile. “It's only a few miles from here.”

Billy looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet. “Them's a lot of things to remember.”

“Are you sure you'll find it, then?”

“Reckon.” He felt awkward in her presence. “What's this town?”

“This is Rockville. And what's your name?”

“Billy.”

“But you're not alone, Billy?” she asked.

Avoiding her eyes, he shook his head from side to side.

“Do you have friends in Sandy Spring?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Then why are you going there?”

“Quakers got a railroad.”

She gasped, turned her head, and glanced nervously in either direction.

“Where did you hear such talk?”

“Elijah says I can't say.”

“Elijah?”

“You know Elijah?”

“No, no, I don't know any Elijah. But I am beginning to understand,” she whispered. “I have a friend in Sandy Spring who can help him.”

Billy let out an excited cry.

“Hush, hush!” she said, looking around again. “Those men in the store, Peyton and Cyrus—the ones by the stove—they're mean-spirited. They don't take kindly to strangers—or runaway slaves. Peyton fought for the South, was wounded at Bull Run.”

He saw the worried lines across the woman's brow. She pushed wisps of hair away from her face. “Sandy Spring is a Quaker town, and folks here know some of the Quakers are helping runaways. I'm afraid that's why Peyton and Cyrus were wondering about your business in Sandy Spring. Tell me, why did he ask about your boots?”

“Ain't sure.”

“Well, when you get to Sandy Spring, go to the Friends Meeting House. It's a two-story brick house, down the lane from J.P. Stabler and Co. It's a store much like the one we were just in. My friend is Johanna Samson; she's tall with red hair. Most likely she'll be there.” She looked tenderly at him. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes, ma'am. If I can remember all you told me.” He shuffled his boots, not wanting to turn away from her. “You got a name?” he asked awkwardly.

“Sarah.” She looked at him with the worried eyes of a mother and then repeated the directions for him. “You must go now, Billy. And, please, for goodness' sake, be careful. Your friend must stay out of sight at all times—it's very dangerous for him. Knock on that Meeting House door even if it's in the middle of the night. If no one is there, Johanna lives just down the lane, in the brown house. Wait for her until morning. Not all of the Quakers help runaways, but she will help your friend.”

“Yes, ma'am—Sarah.” Billy wanted to ask Sarah to go with him. He twisted the paper bag.

“Now, you must hurry. Your friend will be worried about you,” Sarah said as she brushed her hand against his cheek. “Godspeed, Billy. And may you both be safe in this uncertain world we live in.”

He turned and walked slowly down the street, shoulders slumped, arms filled with bread and cheese and the bag of ginger candy. Before he reached the corner he turned around and spotted Sarah in the middle of the street. He waved a hand wildly in the air, and felt his heart beat rapidly when she waved back.

Chapter 14

I
t was nearing dusk when Billy darted off the road into the brush and crossed the alfalfa fields to the rocky outcrop. He called out to Elijah.

As Elijah emerged from the thicket, his eyes widened at the loaf tucked under Billy's arm.

“Oh, Billy, suh!” he said, smiling, as he stretched his stiff body. “You done real fine.”

They sat down on the flat boulder and ate hungrily, watching the sun drop in the pink and yellow sky.

“Got me some ginger candy,” Billy said as he reached into the bag and handed him a piece. “You like ginger candy?”

“Never had none.” Elijah looked curiously at the honey-colored sweet and rolled it in his fingers. He winced at the first bite and spit it from his mouth, his lips puckered. “Billy, suh, this be nasty-tastin'.”

“My brother Jamie don't like it much neither.”

“You find where Sandy Spring be?”

Billy told him about the storekeeper who asked so many questions and about Sarah. “She smelled real pretty, Elijah. Just like lavender.”

Elijah stirred nervously. “Billy, suh, why this purty-smellin' missus take you outta the store?”

“She told that storekeeper not to be askin' about my business is all.”

Elijah stiffened. “They be anybody else in the store?”

Billy scratched his head, trying to remember. “There was some fellas sittin' around the stove. Asked me about my boots.”

“Why they askin' about yo' boots?”

“Ain't sure.”

“You get them boots in the army, Billy, suh?”

“Yeah. Except we call 'em bootees.” Billy's eyes blinked wide. “Thing is, that fella called them bootees, too.”

Elijah shook his head. “Oh, there's gonna be trouble. White folk in the store know you was in the army.”

He stood up, placed his hands on his hips, and stared out across the green fields. “That road in town only one take us to Sandy Spring?”

“Reckon. Sarah says it's only a few miles. I'm rememberin' how to get there mostly. Turnpike she calls it. Runs out the other side of town. Then we're needin' to find her friend at the Meeting House.”

“What this friend's name be?”

“Johanna Samson.” Billy dug into the paper bag, pulling out his last piece of ginger candy. “She's a Quaker.”

“That what Ol' Joe say!”

Billy and Elijah settled against the boulder and waited for the darkness. The cold evening air penetrated their flannel shirts as they huddled together, passing the hours watching for the stars.