Escape Into the Night (14 page)

Egypt
. Where the people of Israel had suffered in slavery, even as Jordan had. When Libby looked up, she saw that Caleb was still watching her. She wondered if she had passed whatever test he was trying to give.

Then she no longer cared about Caleb. She only hurt for Jordan. From deep within she felt a great sorrow about what had happened to his people.

But Jordan seemed to have forgotten both her and Caleb. As if reaching back into a world of his own, he closed his eyes and started humming. Then he began to sing, quietly and softly, as if afraid of being heard. Libby leaned forward to catch the words.

“When Israel was in Egypt land—”

Jordan’s lips moved in a whisper.
“Let my people go!”

“Oppressed so hard they could not stand
—” Swaying back and forth, Jordan seemed to forget himself.

“Let my people go!”
Like a cry it came—a cry from deep within.

In spite of the lashes laid across his back—or perhaps because of them—Jordan sang on. When at last he opened his eyes, Libby saw the glad light of hope.

CHAPTER 13

I
t’s too dangerous for you to go there,” Caleb told Jordan as the
Christina
steamed toward Burlington. The two boys and Libby were sitting on the texas deck again, talking about the Quaker community of Salem. In southeastern Iowa, Salem was not far from the slave state of Missouri.

“If Momma found the people with the broad-brim hats, I kin find her,” Jordan answered without looking at Caleb.

“I’ll hunt up your mother for you,” Caleb promised. “Gran and I lived in Burlington for a while. I’ll ask questions there first. Then I’ll go to Salem.”

But Jordan shook his head no. “If you find Momma, she won’t know if she kin trust you. She’ll be feared to come.”

“Riggs could have taken a faster boat,” Caleb warned him. “He might already be in Burlington, looking for you.”

The risk seemed to make no difference to Jordan. “I gots to find Momma myself.”

Caleb sighed. “You know what the fugitive slave law says. A slave owner can form a posse anywhere—even in a free state like Iowa. Riggs can hunt you down wherever you are.”

A posse? Was that what I saw my first night in Burlington?
Libby wondered.

“I knows the danger, Massa Caleb.”

“Master Caleb?” Caleb leaned forward as though trying to get Jordan to look at him. “I don’t feel right about having you call me that. Will you just call me Caleb?”

Silence fell between them as Jordan seemed to think about it. “It be mighty hard,” he said finally. “But I kin try.”

“Good!” Caleb exclaimed. “Now you said you know the danger.”

“Yes, sir.” Jordan stopped. For the first time his gaze met Caleb’s. “Yes, Caleb. I knows the danger, but the Lord, He is my protection.”

With that Caleb no longer argued. “Then we’ve got three days. Captain Norstad says it’ll take that long to fix the paddlewheel. We need to be back by the third night so he can make up for lost time.”

Three days
, Libby thought. Right now it seemed forever. What could three days mean to Jordan? What if he found his mother and his sisters and his brother? But for Pa, wanting the early spring trade on the river, three days was a long time.

When the
Christina
limped into Burlington, immigrants on board rushed to the railing. Like a mighty wave, they poured down the gangplank. For them, Burlington was the door to the new state of Iowa and territories beyond. Here they would make a home and begin a new life. Yet for Jordan, stepping off into Burlington might mean just the opposite—the loss of his hard-won freedom.

From her stateroom Libby watched Caleb and Jordan mingle with the immigrants on the landing. As they started up the street, they walked apart from each other. Yet Caleb turned more than once, as though keeping an eye on Jordan.

Seeing them, Libby made up her mind. Quickly she put paper and a pencil in a pocket of her skirt. At the door on one side of her room, she peered through the window. Samson lay on the deck just beyond.

Without making a sound, Libby opened the door on the opposite side, slipped through, and closed it behind her. Carrying her shoes, she crept down the short ladder, making only a slight thud on the deck below. But when she tiptoed toward the next stairs, she heard the soft pad of paws crossing the deck behind her.

Libby whirled around. “Samson! What are you doing here?”

His mouth spread wide, Samson seemed to laugh at her. His tail wagged, as if saying, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Libby groaned. “Okay, you can come. But only as far as the gangplank.”

Samson lowered his head, as if promising to obey. When Libby reached the gangplank, she turned around. “Sit!”

Samson dropped down on his haunches. His tail wagged, thumping against the deck.

“Good dog!” Libby petted Samson’s head. “Good boy!” When Libby’s arm came within range, Samson licked it.

“I know your tricks!” Libby exclaimed. As Samson started to wiggle, she commanded, “Stay!”

As though grieved with the command, the dog tipped his head.

“Stay!” Libby told him again. This time she backed away. The dog obeyed.

When Libby reached the landing, she turned and looked back. Samson still sat on the deck. With sad dark eyes, he watched Libby leave him behind.

Once on shore, Libby soon caught sight of Caleb and Jordan. They still walked apart from each other, with Jordan slightly behind Caleb. Libby stayed just far enough behind so that neither boy saw her.

From the riverfront, the streets of Burlington rose upward in bluffs and hills. Several ravines—narrow valleys between the hills—divided the land. Through some of those ravines dirt roads brought farmers with their horses and wagons into town. Deep ruts showed where oxen had pulled covered wagons and pioneers westward.

Around Libby, the streets seemed alive with excitement. Men, women, and children hurried in or out of stores. Now and then Caleb stopped at one of them to ask questions. Always Jordan waited outside, mingling with whatever people were around. When Caleb moved on, Jordan followed a short distance apart.

Tall and straight, he walked as though sure of where he was going. More than once, heads turned as people watched him. It didn’t bother Libby until she spied a piece of paper lying on the ground. She snatched it up.

$200.00 Reward.
Runaway from the subscriber,
a black boy named
JORDAN PARKER,

about 15 or 16 years of age, about six feet tall, last seen wearing tattered cotton shirt and faded blue pants. It is presumed he will make for Iowa or Illinois. I will give one hundred dollars if taken in the State of Missouri, or above reward if taken outside that State and held for me …

As Libby glanced at the bottom of the notice, the name Riggs leaped up at her. Without reading the rest, she stuffed the paper in her pocket. Even if an abolitionist pulled down this notice, how many more were around? How many people had seen this description of Jordan? How many of them wanted the great amount of money he would bring?

Filled with panic, Libby started walking as fast as she could without calling attention to herself. Jordan and Caleb needed to be warned.

They were less than a block apart when Libby came up behind a man who looked familiar. A tall hat hid his face and hair. Short and wiry, he moved as if he would act quickly on anything he set out to do.

Each time Caleb and Jordan stopped, the man also stopped. Whenever they walked on, he stayed just the right distance behind. Because Libby had done the same thing herself, she couldn’t help but notice.

With growing uneasiness, she edged closer. The man wore an expensive suit and carried a cane with a gold handle.

Seeing it, Libby’s stomach tightened with dread. The next time the man stopped, she edged forward enough to see his face. As though doing cartwheels, her stomach turned over.

The slave trader, Riggs! Jordan’s owner!

Then Riggs moved on.
What’s he waiting for?
Libby wondered in panic.
Does he want more men to help him capture Jordan?

When Riggs stopped to look into a store window, Libby hurried around him. Walking fast, she turned a corner soon after Jordan. The minute she was out of the trader’s sight, Libby broke into a run.

“Where’s Caleb?” she asked when she caught up to Jordan.

Jordan tipped his head toward a store.

“Find him!” Libby commanded. “Hurry!”

When Jordan stepped inside the store, Libby followed a few moments later. Near the front were several people. Caleb stood with them, as though waiting to talk to the storekeeper.

When Caleb saw Libby and Jordan, he walked to the back of the store where there weren’t any people. Libby hurried after him while Jordan took a different aisle.

“Caleb,” Libby whispered when she reached him.

A frown crossed his face. “What are you doing here?”

“There’s something you need to know.”

“Go back to the
Christina
. You can’t follow us.”

“Riggs is outside,” Libby answered as Jordan joined them.

“Riggs?” Jordan’s eyes widened.

Caleb wasn’t so quick to believe Libby. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t forget that man for anything.”

“Then tell me what he looks like.” Caleb sounded as if he still didn’t trust her.

Kneeling down, Libby pulled out pencil and paper and used the floor to make a sketch. With quick sure strokes she drew the tall hat, the deep lines of the man’s face, then his cruel eyes.

“That’s Riggs, all right,” Caleb said.

“And look!” Libby pulled out the reward notice.

As Caleb read the notice, Jordan watched the front door. “There he is!” Instantly Jordan turned his back to Riggs.

“Keep down, Libby,” Caleb warned. “Follow me.” As though nothing were wrong, Caleb walked along the aisle until he stood behind a pile of high boxes. Libby crawled after him.

When Jordan reached the boxes, he, too, was hidden from Riggs. As Caleb dropped to his hands and knees, Jordan did the same. Together the three of them crept down the rest of the aisle and around the corner. Halfway into the next aisle, they came to the back door.

Still crawling, Caleb pushed open the door and slipped through. Jordan and Libby were right behind.

Once outside, they started running. Down one block, then up another. Through a backyard into another street. More than once, a dog barked or a cow mooed. But Caleb kept on, climbing the steep hills of Burlington until Libby was out of breath.

By the time Caleb paused, they had made so many twists and turns that Libby no longer knew where she was. When she started to speak, Caleb pulled her between a barn and a shed. Jordan slipped into the shadows beside them.

Moments later, running footsteps passed them on the street. Jordan peeked out. “It’s Riggs.”

“Let’s double back,” Caleb whispered as the footsteps faded away.

When Jordan nodded, the two boys moved as one person, with Libby following. Through the back alleys they ran, this time downhill. Within a block or two, they changed directions. The muscles in her legs aching, Libby followed them through a ravine and up a steep hill.