Good Fortune (9781416998631) (25 page)

“Sho' do miss her, though,” I said after some time. “An' Tucker . . .” His name slipped from my lips before I had time to think. Daniel turned from me, gritting his teeth.

“Daniel, I didn't know who it was they caught,” I said softly. “Thought it was you.”

He angrily kicked at an object that lay on the ground.

“Damn!” he said under his breath as he got up to pace the floor. I wanted to comfort him, but the same feeling was eating at my own throat.

“I don't undastand, Daniel. He was so quick—fasta than the two of us. Why . . . why was he the one got caught?” Daniel came back over and sat next to me, anger and sadness etched into his face.

“Don't think he was tryin' to run, Sarah. Think he was tryin' to hide. Maybe he . . . maybe he wanted to save us.” I took his cold hands into mine.

“Daniel, there was nothin' you could do. Nothin'!”

He shook his head. “Ain' a betta man I knew. I was the one mention runnin', an' he put his foot into it right away. He knew folks who could help us 'cause of that job Masta let him have. Helped us set it up an' everythin'. An' now look—he ain't even gonna reach freedom.”

“Tucker's in freedom, Daniel,” I said softly, “jus' a different kind.” I began to cry, but Daniel brushed my tears away with his hand.

“But it ain't fair!”

“Naw, it ain't,” he said, “and you don't know how much it meant to me to know you was here an' safe.”

I nodded, attempting to stop the tears so my headache wouldn't return. “Reckon I'm carrying part of him in my heart so when I do reach freedom, he'll be there too.” I said. “And Mary, Mary's in here too.”

“Of course she is,” Daniel said, but with little assurance.

“Don't worry 'bout her, Daniel. She all right.” We were silent for a long while, and that silence brought on sleep once more.

CHAPTER
 
24 

T
HE NEXT DAY ARRIVED, AND
D
ANIEL AND
I
CONTINUED RESTING
in the hunter's home. We weren't too worried about getting captured there, for we were certain that the ice raining down outside would stop our pursuers—if we were still being persued—in their tracks. But by nightfall, the storm had passed. A thin blanket of snow hugged the earth. The hunter explained to us that the coldest part of the season was now over.

The following evening, as we bundled up and gathered food and water, the hunter tried again to persuade us to stay one more day.

“Need more rest. Get weak with no rest!” But the hunter's words fell on deaf ears. Daniel had explained to me that he couldn't stay in one place too long. His desire for freedom ached too strongly. Just as soon as he felt it was safe enough to travel on, he did. But as daylight crept to a close, the hunter's words rang rather louder than before. Another day's worth of rest seemed more and more necessary. I confronted Daniel.

“Daniel, think the hunter kinda know what he's sayin'.”

“What you mean, Sarah?”

“I mean to say we need anotha day. I need jus one mo' day of rest.”

“Aww, Sarah.”

“Daniel, its jus' a day. I'm gonna stay.”

Daniel assented, and we stayed on another day, to the hunter's delight. We waited until the sunlight began to wane the next evening to prepare for our continued escape. We had clambered through baths and prepared for the next phase of our journey. We'd emptied the crumbs from our sacks, and refilled them with fresh food. The hunter had given us clean water in gourds, as well as a few words of advice. With that, we thoroughly thanked the man for his kindness, whispered words of parting, and disappeared into the night.

“Sarah, we ain't splittin' up. I ain't goin' through that again. Stick close.” And I did. We had many good nights for running. We did have to wait out some dark nights, however, huddled in a cave or some other shelter. This happened on starless nights when the moon was hidden behind clouds and we couldn't see the moss on trees to find our way.

On one of those nights, Daniel said, “Sarah, we can keep goin'. Even if we ain' goin' 'xactly the right direction, we can find our way back tomorrow night. Cain't really travel too far off from the right way.” Frustrated, he frowned out into the darkness.

“Daniel, like I tole you at the hunter's, be patient. We gonna make it.” He sighed with irritation, but I wasn't fooled into thinking he was angry with me. I could tell my presence
on this journey brought him comfort he could not take for granted, just as he was a comfort to me. It was easier to ignore pain that had overcome my body when I felt him slip his arm through mine.

That particular starless night slipped into daytime, but sleep eluded us. The noises in the woods were loud, and it seemed we had stopped near a burial ground. The sound of weeping and prayers filled us with uncertainty. We prayed that we were hidden well.

The day drifted by us without incident, however, and we ran that night, immersed deeply in this dreamlike world of escape, runaways bent on nothing but survival.

One evening, as rain poured down, soaking us, Daniel and I crouched low to make our way down a steep hill. Too late, I saw Daniel's foot slip. He slid quickly down the hill, through the mud, and slammed into a fence far below. We had run straight into the back of a home. I covered my mouth, realizing how loud the squeal I had let slip was. It took me some time to get to the bottom, and when I did, my brother was nowhere in sight.

Suddenly, I heard a rustling on the other side of a fence. A dog began to bark. I watched with growing fear as a light came on at the house and the door opened. A tall figure clutching a shotgun stood in the doorway. “Who's there?” the man bellowed in a menacing voice. I scanned the area for my brother. The man edged slowly down the steps,
the gun pointing straight into the night, and asked once more who was out there.

I jumped when his shotgun went off, and again when a hand grabbed my mouth tightly from behind. I looked around in surprise to see Daniel pulling me along on the other side of the bushes, as silently as possible. I couldn't look back, but a few minutes later I heard the man curse and the door slam shut behind him. It was then I noticed the blood on Daniel's hand.

“Daniel, you hurt!” I whispered.

“Shh. I ain' hurt. Jus' got us some food.” Indeed, he had. In his other hand was a dead chicken. In the daytime, we found a secluded place, and I fixed up the meat for us both to eat. What a blessing it seemed to be! Our food supply had been low, and we weren't quite sure how much longer we'd be running before reaching our destination.

It was only a few nights later that we reached the river that would take us to free land.

CHAPTER
 
25 

W
E HAD FOLLOWED THE HUNTER'S CLEAR DIRECTIONS AS WELL
as we could. He had explained that there were a few marked trees on the bank.

“Find any one tree with mark. Wait. Nighttime come, make this sound.” The hunter cupped his hands and hooted three times.

“Folk will help you cross. They not come first night, wait. They not come second night, wait. They not come third night, must cross different way.”

We ran a mile along the bank until we found a large tree that fit the hunter's description. Daniel told me to hide while he kneeled and cupped his hands.

“Why?” I asked him simply, leaving my feet planted.

“Jus' in case this ain' right an' there's some trouble.”

“But, Daniel—”

“Sarah, jus' hide!” I headed into the woods but kept my brother in sight. He cupped his hands, made the sound, and waited.

The night remained still.

Daniel made the noise again, then waited for a while, until finally, there was movement in the tree branches right above his head. I watched my brother freeze and look up. A
figure climbed down and knelt next to Daniel. I stayed still and silent as I watched them converse. When at last they stood, Daniel motioned for me to join him.

Running over, the first thing I noticed was the man's features in the moonlight. He had dark hair and nostrils that lay uniquely on his face. He darted forward, expecting us to follow him. We did so without exchanging a single word.

He led us east a couple of miles along the riverbanks. He made a few motions, and another figure, what looked to be a black man, emerged from the darkness, hauling a small boat behind him. After the boat was put into the water, we climbed in, heads bent low, still without speaking.

The boat seemed capable of holding seven or eight people, so our load of four seemed rather light. Before we pulled off, our guide asked, “No one else?” Daniel shook his head, and we drifted out onto the river.

I couldn't help but wonder where we were going. My thoughts must have been heard, because I received a forward response from the rower. I was surprised to hear that the rower's voice was that of a woman. I couldn't make out her features—it was too dark, and the brim of her large hat shielded her face from our view.

“When we reach the other side, you two good people will be on free land!”