North by Night (10 page)

Sorry news waited in Canton. Friend Eli Whitman stands accused and convicted of violating the Fugitive Slave Act. Because he is a Friend and a peaceable man of God, he will not be sent to jail, but the magistrate has levied the maximum fine, one thousand dollars. We are to pass the word to all Friends’ meetings and ask for support—otherwise he and his family shall lose their farm. Pray for our effort, dear friend. I fear this is just the start. And guard thyself and thy charges well. My heart is heavy with worry for Friend Whitman and for thee
.

19
January

No silent and prayerful meeting for this Friend this First Day. Under cover of night and the storm, three of us from Salem—supposed men of peace—broke into the jail and removed Abraham. My conscience scolds, for we had to restrain the deputy who sat on duty, but we did not inflict violence upon him. Rather, we sneaked up behind, covered his eyes and mouth, and tied him to his chair
.

Could I have hurt the man to save Abraham? I don’t know. The Lord requires of us that we love even our enemies. We placed him, chair and all, closer to the fire, and we added extra logs before we left so that he would not freeze before morning. I hope he will be all right, but we dared not linger to make sure, for the road and Cleveland awaited
.

Wish me Godspeed, for thy mission and mine are but two wheels of the same cart
.

20
January

We rest this day in a barn outside of Randolph. So near to thee, I am sorely tempted to sneak away and visit, but I must not. Abraham is in good spirits now that he has got over the shock of our rescue and the cold weather. He shivers visibly, although we have been well provided with clothing, quilts, and straw to keep the worst of the wind from him. He said to me, “One day you gonna make a journey to my old Carolina. Feel the hot sun on your back. Then you know why I chill.”

My fellow conspirators have taken their leave, and Abraham and I alone shall travel north. It will be a long journey in these freezing conditions, but Abraham says freedom will warm his heart and his family once they are reunited. I need no trip to
Carolina to understand that sort of warmth, for when I think of thee, the storm is but a snow shower
.

21
January

On to Hudson. At first light the town still slept under a coverlet of snow. Beautiful. I wished for thee at my side to see it. Someday, perhaps. We made a long night journey, and the wind grows harsh as we settle in the attic of a trusted soul. I pray the wind will blow these gray clouds away, for the storm has hovered too long. Warm food and a day’s rest is a gift beyond measure
.

22
January

Another night of travel has brought us to Bedford. Under other circumstances I might grow tired or cold, but my purpose is strong. Each day, as we draw closer to the lake, Abraham’s face loses a bit of its worry. To my eyes, he grows younger every mile. He is not nearly so old a man as I first thought
.

I remind him that once he is well and safely hidden, we shall have to make another such trip with his family. He says he’ll pray for the sun to shine on their passage and will we please wrap them in many quilts to stay warm
.

I would like to wrap thee in my arms—that is my notion of staying warm. Is that too forward of me, dear friend? I hope not, for I have fond memories of thy kiss. Have I brought a blush to thy cheek? I hope so
.

23
January

Cleveland at last. And the sun shines upon us—God’s blessing, I am convinced. This night we rest in the stable outside the town, but we will search out a safer, warmer place, for Abraham may have a long wait. I suggested to him that he might make the voyage to Canada immediately, but he will not. He intends to wait for his family
.

I would do the same, dear friend. I could not cross the lake alone and let such an expanse of rough water come between thee and me. Still, his waiting will bring risks, and he is so close to reaching freedom. I argue this with him, and he replies, “What be freedom without my Emma?” I am ashamed to have brought it up
.

24
January

The wharves in Cleveland are watched. There are regular patrols, such as the one that caught Friend Whitman, and worse, there are spies who congregate in taverns along the waterfront. The barbershop we once used is no longer safe. Likewise the rooming house. We shall have to hide Abraham farther from the lake. I am torn. I must stay with this man until he is safely settled, for he trusts me. And yet I long to return to thee. And no, my wish to return is not only selfish, for when I come to thee, I shall also bring Abraham’s family to him and all shall be safe sooner. I count the moments
.

25
January

Another day fruitlessly searching for a hiding place. We Friends learn patience from the cradle, for we wait upon the
Lord, but my patience wears thin. I am urging Him to action. Where is the haven we seek for Abraham? As the sun shines and the snow melts, activity alongside the docks increases. Our risks grow. Keep us in thy prayers, dear friend, for we sorely need them
.

26
January

At last. I attended meeting this First Day morning and prayed devoutly. The Lord led me to a Friend who owns a large warehouse. If Abraham can abide the smell of fish, he will rest safe and I can return to thee. I will travel as fast as my horses can carry me
.

27
January

Bedford again, and now I travel during daylight hours, for I travel alone—Abraham waits among the fish barrels. A good thing, too, for the snow melts and the roads are muck. I need every caution as I drive. Tonight I’ll change my shigh runners for wagon wheels, but I fear this will slow the journey. Perhaps we’ll get a cold snap and everything will freeze over. Then I could skate home to thee
.

28
January

Hudson is not nearly so pretty in mud as it is in snow. Or perhaps my eyes grow impatient. Too many days have passed on the road, and I yearn for home and thee
.

29
January

I made Ravenna but had to travel well into darkness to do so. One of my wheels broke at midday and I had to put on the spare wheel knee-deep in muddy slush. I am weary, weary, weary of travel and of winter. Only thoughts of thee keep me from hiding away in a barn until the roads dry
.

30
January

It is midday and I shall write only a little. I will make Atwater tonight or else. Home is close. The horses and I can smell it. Soon, dear friend, soon!

F
RIDAY
, J
ANUARY
31, 1851
A
FTERNOON

Jeremiah! His news to me was so sweet I stayed up till dawn to savor it. He missed me every bit as much as I missed him! It gladdens my soul that his purpose and mine are the same. For all that he is a Quaker and I am a Presbyterian, we are alike in the ways that matter.

I thought
my
chores were hard—how difficult it was for him. At least I was warm indoors and protected from the worst of the storm.

I don’t like that he must make another trip north so soon, but I’ll endure it. He journeyed well in spite of the storm and will journey well again. If only I could go instead of Will. Bah! The rules are too strict for girls. But I’ll obey, for what choice do I have?

Tomorrow I’ll return home to Mama and Papa, to Tom and Miranda and all their wild beasts. Home! The word is as sweet as snow candy on my tongue.

S
ATURDAY
, F
EBRUARY
1, 1851
M
ORNING

I
couldn’t write last night. Couldn’t bear it.

Yesterday was the saddest day. It started so wonderfully, I still have a hard time understanding why it had to go wrong. The only worse thing would have been a return visit from that slave owner. Thank the Lord he didn’t come.

Miss Aurelia and I bustled about all day, cooking and packing clothing. The attic hummed with energy. Emma kept calling out, “Glory be!” and we sang as we worked.

Cass didn’t sing. I figured she was saving her energy for the trip. We found out different when Will came at darkness with his wagon.

I gave Emma a bottle of paregoric Mama had sent and explained how to dose the littlest children so they’d sleep, not cry and call attention to themselves.

Emma nodded. “We ready. We all wearing two sets of clothes to stay warm. Glory be, Cass, can you believe it? We be real and true free in a few days.”

Cass hadn’t said much all day. She hadn’t changed clothes yet, either. I looked at her and saw a single tear slip down her cheek.

“I can’t go,” she said. “I lose this baby if I go. You maybe lose your Cass, too. I feeling too poorly. I got to rest.”

“Cass, the trip take only three or four days. You got to come.”

Cass shook her head.

“We can’t go,” Emma said. She gripped my hand tight and her voice caught. “Get word to Abraham. Tell him to get across that water and make a place for us. We come as soon as we can.”

“No,” Cass said. “Could be weeks yet. Go now. Mister Roberts, he be back. Take my babies north. Keep them safe. I come when I can.” She turned her face to her pillow.

Emma stood and hugged herself. “Why God doing this?” she demanded. “Why He make me choose, my sister or my man?”

“God didn’t do this,” I said. “Men did, evil ones.” I hated the words I needed to say next, but I said them
anyway. “Look, Emma, if Cass knows you and her children are safe, she’ll rest better. She’ll gain strength for when her baby comes.”

“But the catchers …”

“Miss Aurelia and I can hide one woman easier than a whole family. I promise, as soon as Cass can travel she and the baby will come to Canada, even if I have to drive them myself.”

Emma took a deep breath. Her face took on a hard, stiff expression. I waited, hoping she’d make the wise and safe choice.

Could I decide between Tom and Will? Mama and Papa? Could I ever leave Miranda behind? I felt ashamed yet everlastingly grateful that I didn’t have to choose between those I loved.

At last Emma spoke, and my heart thudded with every word.

“Ben, Shad, gals, get loaded now. We going north to Daddy.” She turned to me and tried to smile, but her face had gone gray.

The goodbyes were terrible. Emma sat and hugged Cass. Both women kept their faces blank, holding back hurt, but tears flowed like rain. “You come north soon as that baby get born, Cassie.”

“What? Bossing me again, Emmaline? I come soon as I can.” Cass gave her sleepy children a long hug and kiss. She passed them over to Emma. “My children in good hands.”

“Mama,” Ruth cried, “I don’t want to go without you.” She buried her face in her mother’s nightgown.

Cass held the child close. “Ruthie, remember your
naming story. We one family. You be Naomi’s people, she be your people.” Cass kissed Ruth and placed her hand in Naomi’s. “Emma take care of you now. You help with the littler ones. Practice up for this new baby I gonna bring. I love you, Ruthie. Be a good girl.”

Miss Aurelia herded the older children toward the steps. Emma kissed Cass once more and moved toward the stairs, a child on each hip. We all dragged out to the barn.

Will had shifted his cargo to one side and lifted the floorboards to expose the hidden compartment in the bottom of his wagon.

Emma took charge. She set the little ones into the wagon and found places for the older ones. Then she turned and hugged me and Miss Aurelia before climbing in herself.

I kissed all the children and tucked blankets around them. Miss Aurelia set a basket of food by Ben’s feet. After spending so long with us, they left much too quickly. Within minutes Miss Aurelia and I helped Will shift hay bales back into place over the false bottom of the wagon.

“Drive carefully, William,” Miss Aurelia said. “Don’t take any chances. If you need more time for safety, take it.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

I hugged my brother tight. “God bless you, Will. Godspeed.”

My eyes teared up as he clicked to his horses and headed north under a starry sky. I looked for the Big Dipper and the North Star, which pointed their way,
until Will had disappeared into the night and all I could hear was the muffled clop of hoofbeats. Only one thought gave me a shred of comfort—Will would be meeting up with Jeremiah at the edge of town—so our friends would be in the best of all possible hands.

Miss Aurelia and I returned to the house. It felt empty as a cornfield in winter. Heartsore, I rearranged the clean pots on Miss Aurelia’s stove and turned all the teacups so the handles faced the same way.

“Lucy, don’t be sorry they’ve gone,” she cautioned. “We succeeded.”

“I know. But I can miss them, can’t I? I can worry about Cass. How will she have her baby without Emma?”

“My neighbor, Bessie Smith, is a midwife,” Miss Aurelia said. “She’ll assist Cass with her labor when the time comes.” She took my hand. “But for now, a prayer or two might ease your heart and our friends’ journey. Shall we?”

We sat by the fire and bowed our heads in silent supplication for my brother, Emma, all the children, and Cass.

“Amen,” she said. “Now sleep. You’ve earned it. I’ll sit with Cass.” Her voice sounded just like Mama’s no-nonsense voice, and out of habit I obeyed.

1
February

Dear Mama
,

Bless you for sending Tom with the wagon to fetch me home. As you know by now, illness keeps me with Miss Aurelia longer than we’d expected. My heart aches for you and Papa and the cozy room I share with sweet Miranda, but I
have no choice. I cannot leave Miss Aurelia to face possible complications alone. I see my duty here, and I will stay until her health returns and my work is complete
.

Mama, pray a lot. Pray for all those whose hearts are sore this day, and for the sick who need God’s healing love. Pray for me too, for I am weak and my spirits sink at the hard choice I have made. And please, Mama, spare Tom whenever you can and send him to us. His round, freckled face is the sweetest sight in the world to me, for he reminds me of you and the loving home that awaits when my work is done
.