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Authors: Christopher Paul Curtis

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BOOK: Elijah of Buxton
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'Stead of dangling my feet off the back or the side of the buckboard, I always lean right 'gainst the middle of the bench. Not just 'cause that's where not a whole lot of bouncing goes on, but also 'cause it's a good place to be if you're interested in being right in the middle of some good eavesdropping. The land all the way from Buxton six miles south to Lake Erie belonged to the Settlement, so the ride was gonna be sort of long.

Something 'bout being in the back of the buckboard makes children forget the growned folks are a couple feet away from 'em and lots of things that shouldn't be told get said. But the same thing happens with the growned folks. They'll start in talking 'bout something and you caint believe your ears! After 'while, it comes to you that they clean forgot that there were young folks right behind 'em and things get said you ain't looking to hear. Some of the time you end up coughing or clearing flum out of your throat to let 'em know you're there, but some of the time you find out a lot of things they'd never come right out and tell you.

On this Sunday, waren't much good conversating coming from the front nor the back of the buckboard. The children decided we were gonna play abolitionists and slavers when we got to the beach and were arguing 'bout which one each of us would be. Didn't no one want to be a slaver 'cause we always ended up killing 'em. That meant we had to draw straws to see who was gonna be what. I ended up being a abolitionist and Cooter was a slave. Up front the conversating waren't interesting neither. Seemed like they waren't gonna talk 'bout nothing but crops and rain and which person got damaged by which horse.

'Twaren't long afore the clop of Shirl's hoofs and the rocking of the buckboard and the noonday sun and Pa humming low all came together to make my head start feeling heavy and dozy. I knowed I was napping in and out 'cause one time I'd open my eyes and Emma and n'em were playing with dolls, then the next time they were all singing, then next time my eyes came up everyone was getting antsy 'cause we started to smell the lake and that meant we waren't no more'n a mile away.

Pa was still humming and Ma and Mrs. Holton were starting in on something the growned folks don't like talking 'bout much in front of us, 'bout the times they were slaves.

I'd heard Ma's story afore so I didn't have to look at her to know what she was doing as she talked. She'd keep her eyes closed and her left hand would start moving like it came alive and was acting on its own. Her fingers would commence sliding back and forth twixt her left ear and her mouth like they were tracing over a invisible welt that got whupped into her. Which was peculiar 'cause when you studied Ma's face real good you saw waren't no scar nor whelp nor mark of any kind. All you could see was Ma's smooth, dark brown skin.

“Emeline,” she said, “I knows what you mean! They's got the strangest ways sometimes.”

Ma was talking 'bout her own ma and pa, my grand-folks that I never met.

Ma said, “I was just a little older than 'Lijah then. Mrs. Wright surprise us all one day by telling my mama that her and Massa was gonna take me and Missy up north for the summer. Didn't give Mama no warning nor nothing. Mrs. Wright just say to Mama right out the blue that she was taking me. Fifteen minutes later me and Missy loaded up with them on the wagon heading north.”

Mrs. Holton said, “They didn't say nothing aforehand 'cause they was afeared your ma woulda run with you.”

This was one of the parts you didn't want to hear. It's hard to picture your ma being gave to a little white girl to play with like a pet, but that's what happened. Ma had told me that, back then, when she waren't working in the field, she was tending to this girl name of Missy.

Ma said, “Mama ain't happy 'bout it but what can she do? We s'posed to be gone for three months. I ain't never been away from Mama afore so I's scared to death, kept thinking they waren't never gunn bring me back.”

Ma's hand would always quit moving at this part of the story.

“Brung me right up to a little city in Mitch-again called Flint. Massa had a brother what owned a wood mill there and some the time we all go with him down to De-troit. I 'member Mrs. Wright taking us to the river and pointing 'cross and telling Missy, ‘That there Canada. That a whole 'nother country fulled up with foreigners.'”

Ma told Mrs. Holton, “I caint tell you how let down I was feeling when I looked over that water at Canada. It didn't look not one part different. Mama and all 'em other folks always saying how Canada's the land of milk and honey, but I caint see one thing different, and it ain't but a half mile off.”

Mrs. Holton said, “Ooh, girl, they told us the same thing, the land of milk and honey!”

Ma went on, “Anyway, felt to me like we stayed up in Flint for two whole years, but it was only three months 'fore we start back on home. Took forever! 'Bout a hour outside Flint, Missy start in axing if we was home yet and didn't quit axing for days!

“When we in the wagon and 'bout two mile out from the plantation I starts recognizing where we at and I starts getting antsy as Missy. Mrs. Wright tell me, ‘Sarah, quit acting the fool and set still.'

“I says, ‘I's sorry, ma'am, I's just 'bout to bust from not seeing my mama!'

“Mrs. Wright tell me, ‘Well, you'll see her first thing tomorrow. They's still plenty light and you can work in the barn, and tonight I wants you to stay with Missy. This traveling has her feeling out of sorts.'

“I knows it's back talk but I says, ‘Please, ma'am, caint I see my mama for just a minute?'

“You'd-a thought I axed her for the moon. She near backhand me out that wagon and say, ‘You say one more word and I'll keep you hopping for a week.'

Massa tell her, ‘Gwen, let the child go in the field and see her ma. I'm-a give her fifteen minutes.'

“Mrs. Wright say, ‘James, you's too soft on your pickaninnies. They's gonna be the death of you one day. Mark my word.'”

Mrs. Holton said, “Uh, uh, uh.” Ma said, “I's so happy! After I got Missy to bed I told Mrs. Wright and she look at a clock and say, ‘You got fifteen minutes. I'll cane you within a inch of your life if you's one second late.'

“Emeline, I ain't never run so hard in all my life, afore nor since. I seen Mama bent over in the field 'bout a half mile off and I feel like I's flying to get to her.”

It was here that Ma's hand would commence rubbing her left cheek again.

Mrs. Holton touched Ma's shoulder.

Ma laughed and said, “Lord, if I'd-a knowed what was 'bout to happen I might not've been so anxious to see her.

“Mama hear me hollering and drop her load and run just as hard out at me. I feels like I's swimming I's looking through so many tears.”

Ma's arms wrapped 'round herself.

“Ooh, did she mash me to her!

“She say, ‘Chile, chile, chile! I pray every night you was gone that you come back and here you is! Look how much you growned!'

“She kiss me so much I waren't sure if my face was wet from tears or kisses. Then she ax what up north look like. I say, ‘Like here 'cept there's more trees, and ain't no tabacky.' Then I throw in I seen Canada. Girl, soon's I say it I knowed by how her body lock up that I done something wrong.

“First thing I'm thinking is that Mrs. Wright done snucked up behind me and hear me say Canada. We get beat if we even say it out loud. But that waren't it.

“Next thing I know, my mama's arm uncoil like a rattling-snake and she smote me down. Hard. She hadn't never touch me afore with nothing but love, but Lord knows 'twaren't no love in that blow.”

Mrs. Holton rubbed Ma's back harder.

Ma said, “I quick jumps up too scared and dumbstruck to even cry. All I done was say, ‘Mama … why?'

“She look at me with eyes I ain't never seen on her afore. She say, ‘What kinda fool I done raised? You was close enough to
see
Canada and you standing here afore me now?'

“I says to her, ‘But, Mama, if I'd left I might not never see you no more!' She smote me the second time. Then she say, ‘You done got took to the gates of Heaven and turned you'self back 'cause you might not never see
me
again? What make you think I wants to see you down here knowing them …'”

Ma looked in the back of the buckboard and spelt out, “‘them d-a-m things Massa got in store for you? Ain't you got no inkling what he waiting on you to get old enough for? How daft is you that seeing me be worth more than being rid of that?'”

Ma said, “All I could say was, ‘But, Mama, I waren't thinking 'bout it like that. All I could think 'bout was seeing …'

“Mama snatch me by my collar and hold me so close to her face that I sees fire spitting out her eyes and I smells the food she et for breakfast that morning and I feels spittle from her mouth. She say, ‘Girl. If them people ever …
ever
take you north again and you don't try reaching Canada, I'm-a make you a promise right here. I swears on all I love that I'll wring your neck myself and won't give it no more thought than if I was wringing the neck of one n'em chickens. 'Cause if they takes you to De-troit ever again and you don't head out for Canada, you ain't got no more right to live than one n'em chickens. You ain't got no more sense than one n'em yard birds what's happy to hang 'round till it they turn to get slaughtered. If you gets another chance and don't take it … or die trying … I swear, girl, I'll kill you myself once you get back here.'”

Ma quit moving her hand 'long her jaw and held up three fingers.

“That made three times she smack me 'cross the mouth.”

Ma smiled, “I had sense 'nough to stay down after that. Folks come and pull Mama off me. I remember her screaming and crying and cursing me whilst they drag her back to work. I knowed she waren't lying. 'Twas two years afore they brung me to De-troit again, and I knowed when we was leaving in the wagon and I kissed my mama that I waren't never gonna see her again.”

Mrs. Holton kept rubbing Ma's back and said, “Sarah, I'm-a tell you some words a wise woman told me, ‘Something inside so strong gunn keep you flying.'”

Ma hugged Mrs. Holton and said, “Oo-wee! I hope you cherish that woman 'cause she sure
do
sound wise!”

They laughed and Mrs. Holton said, “Girl, I do. If only you knowed how much I do. I loves her like a sister.”

They stayed hugged up like that till Pa brung the wagon to a stop.

Everyone was starved out from sitting in church all day so we et afore we played abolitionists and slavers. Folks were still bringing Mrs. Holton food to help in her mourning and she brung lots of it along. Ma had fried some chicken and baked a couple of pies too.

We spread blankets and sat in the sand to eat.

Being close to the water and hearing the lake slapping 'gainst the sand was 'bout the peacefullest thing you could think of. If I hadn't drawed the long straw and got to be a abolitionist I'd-a et and just sat there and dozed, but waren't no way I was gonna give up killing some slavers, even if they were just Penelope and Sidney pretending to be white.

Ma and Mrs. Holton gave us all big servings of good things then Ma carved up some pieces of her peach pie and dropped one on everybody's plate.

'Bout halfway through the meal I saw Pa piling a little hill of sand out of a hole next to where he was sitting on the blanket. I didn't think nothing of it till about five minutes later when he pointed at some gigantic poplar trees and said, “Is that one n'em bald-head eagles?”

Most times those eagles don't come inland far as Buxton so we all looked over at the poplars.

No one saw nothing so Pa said, “I think y'all scared him when you jumped up like that.”

I looked at Pa and saw that the hole he'd been digging was gone. He'd pushed all the sand back in it. Then I saw that the piece of Ma's peach pie was gone too.

Pa could tell I put one and one together and knowed where the pie was at. He leaned in to me and whispered, “Afore we leave, you come back over here, dig it up, then bury it real deep somewhere. It ain't right to leave it halfway buried so's some poor desperate starving wild animal might dig it up and try to di-gest it and suffer a horrible slow death.”

I couldn't help laughing. But then Cooter and n'em ran off behind a bluff and he hollered back, “Help! Is there any abolitionist 'round? I'm 'bout to get dragged back to slavery by these here slavers! Help!”

I asked to be excused so's I could run after Cooter and kill me some slavers!

A few days later, after supper, one of Mrs. Mae's twins came banging on the door. I answered.

“Evening, Eli.”

“Evening, Eb.”

“Mr. Leroy told me to come here and tell you not to go di-rect to Mrs. Holton's land tonight.”

BOOK: Elijah of Buxton
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