Promises to the Dead (12 page)

Once we passed over a high bridge way above the treetops. Truth to tell, it scared me a little to look down. I'd never been up so high in my whole life. I heard someone say it was the Thomas Viaduct, a great feat of engineering and famous throughout the country, but I couldn't help worrying the train might jump the tracks and we'd all go plummeting down to certain death and dismemberment. I reckon that was my view of the world. If something could go wrong, it would, and most likely I'd be there when it happened.

At the Relay depot, I saw Federal soldiers swaggering around like they owned the place. I guessed they were on guard duty, but they were having a good time anyway, lolling in the sun and waving to us as we passed by. It seemed to me they led an easy life with nothing much to do.

A soldier in the seat across the aisle from me leaned over and asked where I was bound. He was a short, skinny fellow, not much older than me, but he was sporting a wispy little mustache.

"New Berlin," I told him, hoping he wouldn't ask no questions about Perry.

He whistled. "You'll see a fair amount of activity there. Rebels everywhere, I hear. Causing all sorts of mischief, too. Burning bridges and stopping trains and I don't know what all."

"Is that right?" My heart beat a little faster at the thought of seeing some actual warfare.

The young man nodded. "My name's Otis Hicks," he said by way of introducing himself. "Private Otis Hicks, Pennsylvania Infantry."

I told him my name and where I was from. "Not meaning to be disrespectful or nothing," I went on, "but you look mighty young to be in the army."

"I'm only fifteen," he confessed, "but I told the men at the recruiting station I was eighteen. Stood on my tiptoes when they measured me. I sure fooled them."

With some envy I studied the shiny brass buttons on his jacket. "You reckon I could pass for eighteen?" I asked.

Otis grinned and shook his head. "Maybe next year, if you stretch yourself as much as you can. And manage to grow one of these." He touched that fuzz on his lip like it was something to be proud of. "Why do you want to be a soldier?"

"Same reason you do, I reckon. Win fame and glory and such."

Otis nodded. "I can't hardly wait for the fighting to start. I aim to kill me at least one rebel a day."

"What if you get killed instead?"

He fingered his mustache again like it was cat that might purr if he petted it long enough. "Me? I'm too smart to catch a bullet." He laughed, but I think he really believed what he'd said.

"I sure hope you're right, Otis," the man next to him said, but he winked at me as he spoke.

Then the two of them started talking about the war and what they'd do when they finally got a chance to fight the rebels. To hear them talk, the Confederates might as well surrender right now and save everybody a passel of trouble.

While the two of them tried to outmatch each other with boasts and brags, I glanced at Perry. Despite all the racket in the coach, he'd fallen fast asleep. Though I wanted to stay awake for fear of missing something, I couldn't keep my eyes open either. Voices rose and fell, the train chug-chug-chugged, swaying and bouncing over the tracks, and soon it rocked me to sleep.

The next thing I knew Private Otis Hicks was shaking me. "I'm getting off here," he said. "New Berlin's the next stop. Better keep those eyes open or you'll end up with the rebels in Harpers Ferry."

Perry woke up, and the two of us peered out the window. We were at Point of Rocks, and all the soldiers was piling off the train, shouting and laughing. I caught a glimpse of Otis and his companion and hollered, "Good luck to you in the war, Otis!" But he didn't look back. I guess he couldn't be bothered with a boy like me, not with so many important events to occupy his mind.

The train picked up speed again and we were on our way, steaming along beside what I thought was the Potomac River. Later I heard someone say it was the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. The river itself was on the other side of the canal.

Before long the train stopped at New Berlin. Perry and I jumped to the platform, crossed the canal, and headed for the ferry along with a bunch of other folks.

The Potomac River was wide, and its water had a clean, fresh smell, different from the Bay's rich stink of salt and marsh and mud. Downstream, it ran fast between groups of rocks, swirling and foaming in the prettiest way, but upstream, it was calm. To the west, I saw hills higher than any on the Eastern Shore and mountains beyond them, the first I'd ever seen, dark against the setting sun. I could scarcely believe I was standing here, so far from home, seeing such sights. Me, Jesse Sherman, who up till recently had never been anywhere but Easton.

I made out the ferry crossing the river from the Virginia side. It wasn't much more than a big raft, towed by a cable that stretched from bank to bank. Among the passengers were a few men and women and a couple of children. Horses and wagons, a pair of oxen, and three or four cows took up most of the space.

One of the cows mooed, and the wind carried the sound to me over the water. It made me homesick to hear it. I couldn't help wondering if I'd ever see Uncle Philemon again. What if he took sick and died before I came back? I hadn't thought I'd miss the old man, but there I stood, waiting for the ferry with tears pricking my eyes.

"It's coming, Jesse." Perry tugged at my sleeve. "See it?"

We watched the ferry get closer and closer. Soon it was nudging up against the bank, and folks began coming ashore. The man herding the cows had some trouble. Those critters made quite a commotion, bawling and carrying on, but he finally managed to get them off the ferry and onto the bank.

Then we paid our money and boarded. Once again nobody looked close at us. They was all caught up in their own affairs, talking about a skirmish between the Federals and the Confederates down the river a ways. Nobody killed, but several wounded.

"I tell you, this war ain't ever going to get going," one man opined to his companion. "Why, all they've done is fire a few shots here and there. Not one battle worth noting."

"That's the truth, Ebenezer," the other said. "The whole business ought to be settled before winter."

"Damn lot of foolishness," another said. "Tearing up railroad tracks and burning bridges is all them rebs know how to do. Can't go anywhere these days without delays."

"Why, those boys are just protecting us from Lincoln's men," the first man said. "Ain't that worth a little inconvenience, Mr. Farraday?"

"Sounds to me like we got a Union man amongst us," said Ebenezer, his face red and wrathy.

"No, boys, you misunderstood," Mr. Farraday said in a weak sort of way. "I merely meant I wish our boys would chase the Yankees back North and let us get on with our business, that's all."

The men mumbled and grumbled and kept arguing amongst themselves. Fearing things might get ugly, Perry and I moved away from them and stood by the rail. We were doing our best to avoid notice, something that hadn't overly concerned me on the train. But now that we were about to set foot in Virginia, one of the Confederate States of America, things were different. To all intents and purposes, as Uncle Philemon used to say, a foreign country lay ahead, one that had no liking for runaway slaves and those that abetted them. There was no telling what they'd think about Perry and me, and I didn't want to find out.

While we stood there acting invisible, three people joined us—a woman and a young lady, both dressed in black, accompanied by a well-dressed man.

The ladies didn't know me, but having seen them once before, I recognized Mrs. Baxter and her daughter Polly, still dressed in mourning for the late Mr. Peregrine Baxter, deceased. Polly's face was so sweet and kind I knew Lydia had been right. She would surely welcome Perry as her nephew—which meant I'd soon be free to go home to my poor old uncle.

I figured the man with Polly and her mother to be the judge's brother, Mr. Cornelius Baxter. He was tall and stout and haughty in the way he held himself. A true southerner, I thought. Not the sort to think well of a runaway slave boy's claim to kinship. But surely Polly could win him over. And her daddy and mama, too. She would have some talking to do, I reckoned.

I moved a little closer, hoping to hear what they were saying, but Mr. Baxter gave me a look that clearly told me to move away. Nonetheless I managed to pick up a word here and there. It seemed they'd been to Frederick City to shop for dress fabric. Polly had been distressed by the sight of Yankee soldiers loitering everywhere, blocking the sidewalk, spitting tobacco, and using bad language.

"I'll be so happy to be back in Virginia," Polly said, her voice rising as if she wanted to be sure everyone around her knew where her loyalties lay. "I won't cross this river again till those ill-bred Yankees have gone back where they came from."

"If the judge had any sense, he'd join us here for the duration," Mrs. Baxter said. "I hear Baltimore is totally overrun with Lincoln's men. I fear for Horatio's safety."

Mr. Cornelius Baxter muttered something I couldn't hear. Polly turned her attention to the sunset, and her mother went on conversing softly with Mr. Baxter. "Had my son Peregrine lived," she said, "he would most certainly have gone to Richmond with his cousins."

Mr. Baxter nodded in agreement. "Peregrine would have made a fine officer."

At that point, the ferry reached the bank. With Perry and me at their heels, the Baxters strode ashore. They never once looked at us and so had no idea their own kin was following behind them. If I hadn't been so edgy, I might have laughed out loud. As it was, I watched them get into a waiting carriage and rattle off into the dusk.

As soon as they were out of sight, Perry and I trudged up the same road the carriage had taken. Even though it was late May, the evening air was cold. I would have given a lot for a nice warm jacket.

"Did you notice the pretty young lady on the ferry?" I asked Perry.

"The one dressed in black?"

I nodded. "Well, she just happens to be your aunt, Miss Polly Baxter herself!" I grinned at him. "What do you think of that?"

"She was pretty," he said in a low voice.

"Why, she's the most beautiful young lady I ever did see!" I gave him a poke. "Ain't you the lucky one?"

"Did you hear what she was saying about those Yankee soldiers in Frederick City?" he asked.

"Oh, that was just talk. She didn't mean nothing by it except she was vexed," I said, trying to pump him up as well as myself. "Just wait till she hears whose child you are. She'll love you to death."

But the stubborn boy just sighed and plodded along beside me, kicking stones as he went. Try as hard as I might, I couldn't coax another word out of him. I never did see a child who could clam up tighter than that little rascal.

At last we came to the top of a hill. By then it was pretty near dark. The Baxter place was straight ahead, set well back on a grassy lawn. Light shone from its windows and smoke curled out of the chimneys, scenting the air with the cozy smell of supper cooking.

Fearful of rousing dogs, we made a wide swing around the house and stole up through the woods to a row of small cabins. The doors were shut tight, but I chose one and rapped softly. Perry stood beside me, close enough for me to feel him shivering in the cold.

The door opened a crack, and a woman peered out at me. "Who are you? What do you want?" she asked in a low voice. I couldn't blame her for being suspicious. The last thing she'd expected to see was a pair of strangers standing on her doorstep.

"We've come all the way from Baltimore City looking for a slave woman named Hyacinth," I whispered. "Athena, the Baxters' house woman, sent us."

The woman pointed down the row. "Hyacinth lives in the last cabin, but I reckon she's still at the big house, tending to Miss Polly. Just set on the steps and wait. She'll be along shortly." With that she closed the door.

Perry and I did what she said, but it was sheer torment to sit there smelling dinner cooking for everyone but us. Behind the closed doors of the cabins, we heard folks talking and laughing. I pictured them eating and drinking, filling their bellies whilst Perry and me huddled together in the dark, cold, scared, and hungry.

Somewhere hounds bayed. Across the river, a train whistle blew sad and low. Never had I felt so lonesome in my whole life.

"We shouldn't have come here," Perry whispered.

"Seems to me we didn't have much choice," I reminded him. "We couldn't very well stay in Talbot County or Baltimore, could we? Not with the colonel and the widow on our tails."

As usual, he didn't have nothing more to say. He sat there hunched in misery like a baby bird waiting to be fed.

At last I saw someone walking toward us from the big house. Even in the dark, I noticed she had nervous way of holding herself, like she was pondering a weighty problem. I knew she wouldn't see us till she fell over us, so I got to my feet and pulled Perry up beside me.

"Hey," I called softly. "Is your name Hyacinth?"

Although I'd hoped not to startle her, she went as tense as a deer that just got a whiff of danger. Stopping where she was, she peered at Perry and me. "Who wants to know?" she whispered.

"I'm Jesse Sherman from Talbot County," I told her. "I got your sister Lydia's boy, Perry, with me."

"Lydia?" Hyacinth came toward us, still wary. "You know Lydia?"

Perry broke away from me and ran to meet Hyacinth. "Mama's dead," he blurted out. "Mama's dead. And so is Papa."

Hyacinth studied his tearful face a second and then drew him close. Perry clung to her as if he never meant to let go, sobbing fit to bust. Hyacinth began to cry, too.

For a long while neither Perry nor Hyacinth paid me any mind. Not that I expected them to. But I couldn't help wishing I had an auntie who'd be as glad to see me as Hyacinth was to see Perry. I could have used some hugging myself.

Finally Hyacinth freed herself from Perry and led us into her cabin. There was just one room, but it was warm and cozy and tidy. And it smelled of good things to eat. She seated us at a table in front of the fire and commenced to fix our dinner, filling three plates with beans and baked yams and the fluffiest biscuits I ever did see. The whole while she worked, she kept her eyes on Perry as if she couldn't get enough of him.