Wilde, Jennifer (28 page)

It
was slow work. My nerves were frayed, and I was dreadfully impatient. Taking a
deep breath, I gave the chisel one mighty blow. It rang out loud and clear as
though a blacksmith had struck his anvil, but the hasp tore free, at last. I
opened the door and stepped inside the shed. It was pitch-black and smelled of
damp and rotting feed sacks and tar. I couldn't see Adam, but I could feel his
presence. I could feel his fear and humiliation. He moved. I heard his chains
clanking.

"Who—who
dat?" he growled. Although his voice was deep and harsh, there was a
slight tremor that hadn't been there before.

"It's
me, Adam. I'm going to get you out of here."

"Miz
Marietta? You done come to—to help me escape?"

"That's
right. I have everything arranged."

"No,
ma'am, I cain't let yuh do dat. It's too dangerous. Th' master would—if he wuz
to find out, he'd—"

"Don't
argue, Adam!"

"You's
an angel, a beautiful angel, and I'm thankful for what yuh wanna do, but I
cain't let yuh. Th' master'd be wild with anger. He'd whup you, Miz Marietta.
He'd—"

"He
isn't going to find out. I'm going to have to pick the lock on your shackles,
Adam. It shouldn't take long."

The
moon came out from behind the clouds then. The shed filled with a misty silver
haze. I could see Adam crouching on the floor, iron bracelets on both wrists,
the chain fastened around a wooden post. He stood up as I approached, shaking
his head. Taking a hairpin from my hair, I took hold of one of his wrists and
inserted the pin in the tiny hole the key fitted into. Adam watched, scowling
darkly.

"You
ain't never gonna undo 'em with that li'l pin, Miz Marietta. It'd take all
night."

"Don't
bet on it," I retorted, and at that moment there was a sharp click and the
bracelet opened, freeing his wrist.

"How—how'd
you do dat?"

"There
was a girl on the—the prison ship, a girl named Angie. She claimed there wasn't
a lock made she couldn't pick with a hairpin, and she taught me how to use one.
We'll just leave that other one locked for the time being. We must hurry—"

"Miz
Marietta, I jest cain't let yuh—"

"Cassie's
waiting for us beside the barn," I interrupted. "Both of you will be
in a safe place before the night is over."

"You—you
sure you wanna do this, Miz Marietta?"

"Of
course I'm sure. Come. We—we'll have to be careful. No one must see us, not
even one of the other slaves. No one knows about this but Mattie. I—I was
afraid one of the others might talk."

Adam
hesitated just a moment, and then he followed me to the door. We stood waiting
for the clouds again, and when it was dark enough we hurried out of the shed
and toward the barn, Adam gripping the chain in his hand so that it wouldn't
rattle. Cassie was waiting for us in the shadows, clutching a large bundle in
her hand. She dropped the bundle and sobbed and hurled herself at Adam. He
crushed her to him so fiercely that it seemed her bones would crack. Cassie
continued to sob, her shoulders shaking. Adam held her away from him, scowling.

"Hush
dat bawlin', woman! You wanna wake up all them niggers?"

"I—I'm
jest so happy."

"Did
anyone see you, Cassie?" I asked.

Cassie
shook her head. "Not a soul, Miz Marietta. I snuck into our cabin like a
thief an' moved around quiet as could be. I—I waited till no one was stirrin'
'fore I slipped out here. Dat Caleb, though—he done gone past a minute ago on
his way to th' half-moon house. He's likely to be comin' back—"

Before
she had finished speaking we heard the boy sauntering back toward the cabins,
shuffling his feet and humming to himself. He moved with infuriating slowness,
seeming to deliberately dawdle. The owl hooted again. Caleb stopped and cocked
his head.

"Where
you at, hoot owl?"

Although
we were deep in the shadows, the moonlight spilled over the rim of the clouds
again, and we could see the boy clearly. He frowned, peering at the trees in an
effort to locate the owl. As minute followed minute and he still didn't move, I
thought I would scream. Adam sensed my alarm and muttered a curse beneath his
breath. Caleb's ears actually lifted. He whirled around to peer into the
shadows concealing us, his eyes wide with fright, his mouth hanging open.

"Wh—what
dat? Who—who dat I hear?"

"He
mustn't see us, Adam!" I whispered frantically.

Adam
nodded and reached down to pick up a rock. He hurled it across the yard. It hit
the trunk of a tree with a sharp impact. Caleb jumped at least a foot and
whirled back around to face the direction of the noise, his back to us now.
Adam darted out of the shadows and fell upon the boy from behind, clapping a
hand over his mouth and slinging an arm around his throat. Caleb struggled
violently, flailing his arms, kicking his legs out, but it was futile. Adam reared
back, lifting the boy off the ground, his arm tightening brutally, and in a
moment or so Caleb went limp, his whole body sagging as Adam dragged him over
to where we were standing.

"You—you
didn't—"

"Naw,
I didn't kill him. I jest squeezed mighty hard till he lost all his fight an'
went out. His neck'll be sore, but he'll be all right, should be comin' round
in jest a few minutes."

"He'll
raise an alarm—"

"Reckon
he would," Adam agreed. "There wuz a rope in dat shed. I'll take him
back dere and tie him up good— reckon I'd better gag him, too, or he'll squeal
like a pig. There's some rags on one of th' shelves."

"Hurry,
Adam," I urged.

Adam
heaved the boy up and slung him over his shoulder as though he were a bag of
potatoes, then moved quickly toward the shed. Cassie and I leaned against the
side of the barn, waiting. She was shivering with fear, and I took her hand,
squeezing it tightly. I was frightened myself, my calm resolution completely
gone now, replaced by a nervous apprehension I found difficult to control. The
moon disappeared again. The yard was shrouded in darkness. Adam returned so
silently that both Cassie and I were startled when we heard the chain rattle
quietly directly in front of us.

"Lawd!"
Cassie exclaimed. "You done scared me half to death."

"I
tied him up real good, Miz Marietta," Adam told me. "He wuz startin'
to come 'round just as I got done. He opened his mouth to yell an' I crammed a
wad o' rags in it and tied a gag 'round him good and tight. He ain't goin' do
no squealin', ain't goin' no place, either."

"I—I
suppose he'll be all right."

"Be
a mite uncomfortable's all. 'Fore I come back, I stuck that hasp back up,
pressed th' nails back in th' holes so's it looks like it did 'fore you broke
in. Ain't no one goin' suspect nuthin' till they gets right up to it. Reckon
they're goin' get a surprise."

"I
imagine so. We—we'd better go while it's still dark. Mr. Jones will be waiting
for us in his wagon up the road a ways."

We
moved quickly and silently past the slave quarters, Adam holding the chain
securely, Cassie clutching the bundle. We moved past the side of the house and
down the drive through layers of blessed darkness. I stumbled once. Adam
clasped my arm firmly. My eyes were growing accustomed to the darkness now, as
were theirs, and we were able to move even faster, almost running. The moon
came back out as we reached the road, but the trees growing on either side
afforded excellent cover. Shadow Oaks safely behind us, we slowed down, finally
stopping for a moment to catch our breaths.

"I'd
better unlock that other bracelet now," I said. "You don't want to
drag that chain around with you."

I
performed the task with great ease. Cassie was as startled as Adam had been
earlier.

"How
you do dat, Miz Marietta?"

"Adam
will tell you about it later on," I replied.

Adam
hurled the chain and bracelets across the road. They landed in the ditch with a
noisy clatter.

"I—I
feels like—like a free man," he said, and there was awe in his voice.
"I ain't a slave no longer."

"You
are
free, Adam," I told him. "You and Cassie both. Your child
will be born up North. You'll find a job and earn a living and—and everything
is going to work out fine."

"'Cause
o' you, Miz Marietta," he said quietly. "You's a great lady, an'
we'll always be grateful—"

"Here,"
I said, reaching into my pocket and withdrawing the money. "You'll need
this."

"You—you
stole
that from th' master!" Cassie exclaimed. "Lawd, Miz
Marietta, if he finds out—"

"He
won't," I assured her. "We'd better move along now. The wagon should
be up there around the bend."

We
hurried along, keeping to the shadows. Elijah had pulled the wagon off the
road, and it was almost invisible in the shadows. Had one of the horses not
shied, we might have passed it. The preacher climbed down and waited for us to
join him.

"We're
a little late," I told him. "There were—complications. No one saw us,
though. This is Adam and his wife, Cassie. Cassie, Adam, this is Mr. Jones.
He's going to drive you to a farm fifteen miles from here. The man there will
hide you, keep you safe until he can take you farther on. A whole lot of people
will be helping you in days to come."

Cassie
began to sob. She flung her arms around me and held me close.

"I—I
hates to leave you," she wailed. "You's been so good an' kind. Ain't
never known a lady like you. I'm goin' worry 'bout you—"

"There's
no need to worry, Cassie. Just—be happy."

Cassie
nodded, hugging me tightly. Elijah Jones took her arm gently and helped her up
onto the wagon seat, climbing up beside her. Adam stood looking at me, and then
he took both my hands in his and squeezed them. He was moved, too moved to
speak. There were tears in my eyes, and I smiled a tremulous smile. When he let
go of my hands, I touched his cheek with my fingertips.

"Take
care of her, Adam. Take care of yourself, too."

"I'll
do dat, Miz Marietta. We—we's never goin' forget you."

"Come
on, boy," Jones said impatiently. "We've got no time to dawdle."

Adam
climbed up beside his wife and curled his arm around her shoulders. Jones took
up the reins and clicked them, and the horses moved back onto the road, into
the moonlight. In a moment the wagon was moving rapidly down the road as the
horses broke into a fast gallop. Cassie turned around to wave, and I waved
back, although I was still in the shadows and knew she couldn't see me. I could
hear the horses' hooves pounding, hear the wheels spinning after the wagon
rounded the bend, and then the noise grew fainter and fainter until finally
there was just the raspy song of the crickets and the soft crackle of leaves
rustling.

I
walked slowly back to the house, sad, exhausted, proud of what I had done.
Derek would be in a rage, and he would be in a desperate situation financially,
but I felt sure he could work that out somehow. Adam and Cassie were going to
be together, and that was all that mattered at the moment. As I entered the
kitchen, I thought about Caleb tied up out in the shed, wishing I could help
him. It was out of the question, of course. He would simply have to be
uncomfortable for a while. I went on upstairs and paused to peer into Derek's
room. He was still sleeping soundly. I stood there in the doorway for a moment
or so, watching him sleep, knowing I had betrayed him, and finally I moved
wearily down the hall to my own room, dreading the morning to come.

It
was after eight o'clock, and Derek still hadn't come in. The slaves had had
their breakfast much earlier, had already gone out to the fields. Ben Randolph
would be arriving around nine-thirty or ten, and I thought it would be wise to
go ahead and prepare breakfast and take it up to his room on a tray, as it
would seem suspicious if I let him sleep too long. I would awaken him and be
very concerned, disturbed that he had slept so late, inquire if he were feeling
bad.

The
bacon sizzled and curled as it cooked. I broke eggs into a bowl and whipped
them with cream, getting them ready to scramble. The biscuits were baking in
the oven, the coffee filling the room with a rich, aromatic smell. It was a
beautiful day, the sky a hazy blue-white, sunlight pouring down. I was unable
to appreciate the splendor. I hadn't slept at all, had tossed restlessly in my
bed, plagued with apprehension. Just before dawn I had heard a wagon on the
road and knew it must be Elijah returning. Cassie and Adam were safe now, I
told myself, and now I must brace myself for the repercussions.

I
took the bacon up, drained most of the grease from the skillet and poured the
eggs in. I had just finished scrambling them and was putting them on the plate
when I heard footsteps in the next room. My hands began to shake. My throat was
dry. I fought to control myself as Derek sauntered into the kitchen.

"I—I
was just coming up to awaken you," I said. There was a slight tremor in my
voice. "I was beginning to worry—thought you might be ill. I can't
remember your sleeping so late—"