Miss Katie's Rosewood (15 page)
Read Miss Katie's Rosewood Online
Authors: Michael Phillips
Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042000, #FIC026000
G
ETTING
W
ORRIED
22
W
hen everyone was aboard, the wagons clattered back off across the field and into a wood where we came upon a dirt road that we followed for the rest of the day. As we left the open field, several heads turned around and looked back as the lone train car sitting there on the track faded out of our sight. Whether we were frightened yet or just confused, it was hard to say. I think most of us sensed that something funny was going on. But blacks in the South had been so trained to take orders and do what they were told and ask no questions that we just went along
.
Knowing the men had guns was another reason to do what they said!
None of us had the courage to ask any questions after the man's outburst and threat with the gun. What could any one of us do? Each of us was just one of twenty-five or thirty others
.
If I'd thought the railroad coach was crowded, I discovered it was nothing compared to those two wagons. We were packed into the back of those things so close we were squeezed against each other on all sides. We had no idea where we were headed. At least we had
fresh air, but now the sun was beating down on us. It was dusty and hot
.
“Where do you think they're taking us?” I whispered to the lady beside me who seemed to know so much about the trains
.
“I don' know, dearie,” she whispered back. “But whereber it is, it ain't no train boun' fo Washington.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“'Cause dere ain't anuder one. Dat back dere's da only track from Richmond ter Washington.”
We rode for several hours. There were no towns, only a few farmhouses in the distance, and for sure no trains. It was a rugged, hilly country and that explained why there weren't so many farms and cultivated fields. We were going east mostly, I thought, or northeast. Eventually the sun began to set out over the hills behind us. Still we kept going till it was nearly dark. Finally the two drivers pulled up
.
“We'll camp here for the night,” he said. “Come on, get down. There's a stream over yonder and a sack of bread that'll feed you all, and a blanket for everyone. Stay close to the wagons, except for the stream. Don't wander off. We'll be watching.”
He sounded more like a plantation overseer than a train employee!
“I's cold,” said a little boy
.
“We'll make a fire, son,” said the big black man. “Den you git yo mama to git you under one ob dem blankets.”
The whole thing seemed more and more wrong by the minute! The thought crossed my mind, of course, but now I began to grow downright worriedâhow would I find Katie once all this was over? She would have no way of knowing the black car wasn't even with the train anymore! When they stopped at Washington,
where we were supposed to change trains for Philadelphia, would she look for me after what the conductor said, or figure that we would both get on the new train on our own? Would they tell the people that all us blacks were gone? Or would Katie try to avoid getting in any more trouble with the conductor by just going into the station and then getting on the train for Philadelphia?
Suddenly there were a lot of questions . . . and worries!
Whatever happened, by the time Katie realized I wasn't with her, she might be all the way to Aunt Nelda's. We would have no way to find each other! She would have no idea where I was . . . and I didn't either! I didn't even know what state we were in! I thought we might be in Virginia, but couldn't be sure. If Katie went all the way to Philadelphia before she discovered me missing, at least I would know she was at Aunt Nelda's, though I had no idea how to get there myself. Katie had the directions and address in a letter in her satchel
.
As I later found out, Katie did go all the way to Philadelphia before discovering I wasn't there. Just as I was thinking about her, she was thinking about me. Worrying too
.
As I lay down that night after nothing but bread to eat, and still cold even with the thin blanket they gave us, using my carpetbag for a pillow, I don't mind saying that worrisome thoughts kept me awake half the night. I couldn't help remembering what the conductor had told us about bands of kidnappers roaming about, and I prayed as hard as I'd ever prayed, God, help Katie and me to find each other again
.
The whole thing was starting to remind me of Josepha's adventures on the Underground Railroad!
But that was twenty years ago. Slaves were free now. So what was going on?
It was a long, hard, cold night on that ground. But most of us managed to get some sleep, dozing and waking and dozing again. I woke up tired but knowing I'd had some sleep at last. The morning was grey and wet and chilly. My stomach was rumbling from hunger
.
The three men roused us up, kicking at those who were asleep, gave us more bread, gathered up the blankets and threw them into the wagons, told us to go and do our business and drink our fill in the stream, and then to load back up in the wagons
.
By now a few of the men were starting to ask some pointed questions. I don't know if they'd forgotten about the guns, but they were asking questions anyway
.
“We wants ter know where we's goin',” said one man. “We ain't seen no train nowhere.”
“And you're not going to see no train,” said the white driver
.
“Den where's you takin' us? You tell us or we jes' won't go.”
“You'll go, you old fool,” the man shot back, “or I'll shoot you dead and you can stay here for the buzzards and we'll go on without you.”
That silenced the man but did nothing to stop the murmurings. Though they were just whispers, the worries and anxieties spread through the whole group in both wagons during our second day together
.
We went through a region where there were quite a few farmhouses and nicely cultivated fields. On two or three barns I noticed something that seemed familiar, like I'd heard about it before, a strange kind of weather vane made out of a horse's head. But I couldn't
remember where I'd heard about them. I didn't think I'd ever seen a weather vane like that before
.
It was familiar
.
But I couldn't remember why
.
N
EWS AND
S
ECRETS
23
W
HEN
M
RS
. H
AMMOND'S CARRIAGE APPEARED AT
Rosewood, she drove right up to the big house in search of the Daniels brothers.
She stopped and got down and saw Ward walking in from one of the fields. He tipped his hat and greeted her as she approached.
“Mrs. Hammond,” he said. “This is an unexpected visit.”
“I know the two of you have been anxious about a telegram from Kathleen,” she said. “I thought I ought at least to let you know that nothing's come from her yetâother than the one from Richmond the day after they left.”
“I see . . . hmm, that's a mite puzzling.”
Templeton came out of the house and walked toward them.
“Elfrida . . . how are you today?” he said.
“Hello, Mr. Daniels.”
“She said there's still nothing from Katie,” said Ward.
“I'm sorry,” said Mrs. Hammond. “But I thought you ought to know. I do have one other deliveryâa letter for Mr. Patterson . . . I believe it's from his son.”
“Henry will be delighted,” said Templeton.
“Personally delivered mail . . . that is service!” said Ward.
“I don't usually do that, of courseâdeliver the mail, but . . . I thought perhaps there might be news of Kathleen and Mayme.”
“Well, we're glad you came,” said Templeton. “Josepha will be thrilled to see you. She's been wanting to show you around their new place.âI'll walk you down.”
“Thank you. May I leave my buggy here?”
“Of course,” said Ward. “I'll give your horse some water and feed.”
“Thank you.”
With the letter in hand, Mrs. Hammond followed Templeton toward Henry's and Josepha's new home that Henry had worked to enlarge and modernize during the previous summer. Josepha saw them coming from the kitchen window and hurried outside.
“Elfrida!” she said. “What a nice surprise. Come in, come in!âHello dere, Mister Templeton,” she added.
“I'll leave you ladies to visit,” said Templeton, turning to go. “If there's anything in that letter we need to know about, you let us know.”
“What letter's dat?” asked Josepha, leading Mrs. Hammond into the house.
“A letter for Henry . . . from his son.” She handed Josepha the envelope.
“From Jeremiah?âHenry!” she called into the house. “We got us a visitor . . . an' you got a letter!”
A moment later Henry appeared.
“Good day ter you, Miz Hammond,” he said. “You brung a letter fo me?”
“Hello, Mr. Patterson . . . yes, I did.”
Josepha handed him the letter. Henry sat down at the kitchen table and began reading while Josepha took her guest about the house.
They came back into the kitchen about ten minutes later.
“Mr. Daniels had hoped perhaps there was some word
about the girls from your son,” said Mrs. Hammond.
“Nuthin' like dat,” said Henry. “Only dat he hopes ter see dem when dey's in da Norf, dat's all. But he wrote dis a week ago. Dat was before dey lef'. It's jes' 'bout his work an' a few folks he's met an' askin' me how long I figures he ought ter stay dere an' work, an' dat kind er thing.”
He rose from the table, letter still in hand. “Miz Hammond,” he said, “you mind effen I hab a word wiff you in private before I take dis up an' let Mister Ward and Mister Templeton hab a look at it?”
“No . . . I, uh . . . of course.”
Henry walked outside. A little perplexed, Mrs. Hammond followed. Josepha watched them go . . . even more perplexed than their visitor!
She watched from the open door while Henry and Mrs. Hammond walked slowly toward the big house. Henry was speaking in low tones while Mrs. Hammond listened, nodding occasionally.
Slowly Josepha walked down the steps and began to follow, straining to listen. Henry glanced back and saw her.
“What you two talkin' 'bout?” said Josepha.
“Nuthin'. Jes' neber you mind,” said Henry.
But Josepha continued toward them.
“Now, Seffie,” said Henry, “you jes' go back in dere an' min' yo own biz'ness.”
“Well . . . I neber!” said Josepha.
Henry glanced back, chuckling at her pretended outrage.
“Now you jes' git, Seffie,” he said. “I gots biz'ness wiff dis lady dat ain't none er yo biz'ness.”
“What you mean, Henry Patterson, by tellin' me ter git? I's git when I's good an' ready!”
She turned and went back to the house in a huff, Henry still chuckling to himself as he watched her go.
He and Mrs. Hammond spoke together another minute or two, then parted, Henry to the big house to share Jeremiah's
letter with his two friends, and Mrs. Hammond to rejoin Henry's wife, whom she hoped not to find in too bad a temper.
She knew Josepha would ask what she and Henry had been talking about. But she had promised Henry to divulge nothing.
Later in the afternoon as Mrs. Hammond was preparing to leave, Ward offered to ride back into town with her. She blushed slightly, and said it wouldn't be necessary. She was going to make a small delivery to Mr. Thurston before returning to town.
V
ISITOR TO
B
INGHAM
C
OURT
24