Escape Into the Night (8 page)

A
ll the way back to the river, Libby tried to figure Caleb out. One moment she thought he’d be someone nice to know. The next moment she couldn’t stand him. Yet whatever her thoughts about Caleb, they didn’t seem to matter to him. Libby felt sure he’d be pleased if he never saw her again.

When they reached the
Christina
, two sturdy boards had been set next to the usual one to widen the gangplank into a ramp. Along the sides of the ramp were fencelike boards, placed as guardrails.

There’s more than one gangplank?
Thinking back, Libby remembered the bloodhounds sniffing at the gangplank in Burlington. The dogs had turned away as if finding no scent. Had Caleb put out a different gangplank?

On the levee near the
Christina
, several goats wandered around, seeming confused. When two men chased them, the goats hid behind barrels and boxes.

Directly in front of the ramp stood a large male goat. A tall, heavyset man stood next to the billy, trying to get the goat on board.

Wanting to stay out of the way, Libby stood aside and waited. As she watched, the man tugged the rope around the
goat’s neck. The billy refused to go up the ramp.

“If he could just get the Judas goat in, he’d be okay,” Caleb said.

“The Judas goat?” Libby asked. “What do you mean?”

“That male goat is the leader. Wherever he goes, the rest will follow—even if it’s to a slaughterhouse.”

Seeming to use every one of his muscles, the man shoved, pushed, and prodded at the Judas. As though ready for battle, the billy planted his four hooves and refused to budge.

Finally the man moved around to the goat’s head. Grabbing hold of a long curved horn, he tugged. When Judas tossed his head from side to side, he swung the man as well.

With a disgusted shake of his head, the man gave up. Turning around, he called up the ramp to a deckhand. “Hey! Come here! Help me!”

Just then Judas lowered his head and butted the man’s back end. As the man fell flat, Judas bounded around him and up the ramp. Libby tore after the goat with Caleb right behind.

“Grab him!” Libby shouted to the first deckhand she saw. As the man headed for the goat, Judas leaped to the top of a fenced-in area. When the deckhand grabbed for him, Judas danced along the rail, then jumped down. Across the deck he darted, turning this way and that. One man tried to tackle him. Another landed just behind his sharp hooves.

Reaching the stairway, Judas leaped upward, taking three or four steps at a time. As though finding a mountaintop, he stopped on the second deck. Just then, a waiter carrying a large tray rounded the corner.

Judas lowered his head. From a dead stop he ran straight for the man. A hair’s breath away from the waiter, the billy
darted aside, clipping the man’s knee.

For one moment the tray wobbled. As the waiter fell, food splattered across his white jacket. Dishes crashed to the floor. Broken china flew in every direction.

Trying to keep her footing, Libby circled around the shattered china. Through the open door into the cabin Judas fled with Libby and Caleb after him. By now the other goats followed as well. Behind them raced three or four men, each trying to catch a goat.

Judas headed for the nearest white tablecloth. As he plowed under the table, the cloth caught on his horns. Glasses and china landed with a crash.

Under the table, Judas pawed the floor, then came out on the other side. The next goat caught the cloth on his back, but Libby scrambled after Judas.

Toward the opposite end of the cabin Judas rushed. More than once, Libby got close. Each time, the billy changed direction and darted out of reach.

When he circled yet another table, Libby saw her chance. With a great leap, she landed on the goat’s back. Grabbing his horns, Libby hung on. But Judas kept running, taking her with him.

“Libby!” Caleb shouted. “Let go!”

Libby refused. Halfway down the cabin, the goat headed for a long velvet curtain. Straight toward the wall he ran. At the last minute he turned just enough to knock Libby off his back.

As she landed on the floor, she heard a loud rip. The curtain tumbled around her.

Fighting her way out, she saw Judas headed once more toward the far end of the cabin.

Oh no!
Libby thought. Desperately she scrambled to her feet. With Caleb close behind, she again tumbled after Judas.

When he upset another table, Libby almost caught him. This time Judas ran straight toward the floor-to-ceiling mirror at the end of the cabin. In front of the glass he slid to a stop. Staring into the mirror, he saw his reflection.

Judas stamped his foot. The goat in the mirror stamped his.

Again Judas stamped his foot. “No one’s coming into my territory!” he seemed to say. Again the goat in the mirror stamped back.

Filled with panic, Libby raced after Judas. The goat lowered his head.

“Libby!” Caleb cried, but she did not stop.

As Libby reached out for the horns, something dropped over her head. In the next moment she heard a mighty thud, then the crash of shattering glass. Like a statue Libby froze, knowing she must not move.

When Libby pulled the cloth from her head, she saw it was Caleb’s jacket. Seeming dazed by what had happened, Judas stood in front of the wall, shaking his head. Splinters of glass lay on his back and the surrounding floor.

Turning around, Libby saw Caleb just behind her. “You stopped me!” she sputtered. “I could have caught him!”

“Could you now?” Caleb asked.

His question struck Libby funny. The large deckhand trying to load the goat had not been able to handle Judas. Why did she think she could manage?

Looking down the long cabin, Libby saw the mess. Tables overturned. Dishes across the floor. Velvet drapes ripped from their rods. Suddenly Libby doubled over with laughter.

Caleb joined in. “It
is
funny!” he said, when he could talk again.

As their gaze met, all the anger that had been between them disappeared. For the first time Libby saw Caleb as he really was—a boy almost the same age as she, a boy who might be fun to know.

Then Libby looked down. In one hand she still held Caleb’s jacket. For the first time she saw the splinters of glass caught in the cloth.

With her other hand she reached up to her face. Carefully she felt her cheeks, her chin, her forehead, her eyes. It frightened her, just thinking what could have happened. But she found no cuts.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Libby’s voice was soft with wonder.

“Yup,” Caleb answered. “I knew.”

“I might have been scarred for life. How could you think so fast?”

Caleb shrugged, as though what he had done wasn’t really that special. Then he grinned. “Just keep it in mind when you think you can get the best of me!”

Suddenly Libby felt overwhelmed by all that had happened. Unable to answer Caleb, she wanted only to flee.

When Libby reached the texas deck, Samson stood up from where he lay next to the door of her stateroom. His unexpected welcome warmed her.

Libby glanced around. No one was there to see.

Feeling unsure about what to do, Libby stretched out her hand. When she patted Samson’s head, he stood quietly, as though liking Libby’s uncertain touch.

Again she looked around. This time she stroked Samson’s back. As Caleb said, the dog’s coat was shiny and clean. Wherever Libby stroked the wavy hair, it fell back into place.

When she turned away, something had changed. Deep down, Libby felt glad that Samson was there.

Inside her stateroom, she shut the door. Yet she could not shut out all that had happened—the Judas goat and her own narrow escape with the mirror, but so much more.

There, where no one could see, Libby started to tremble. As if she were freezing cold, her entire body shook. Caleb had wanted to shock her by taking her to an auction. He had certainly succeeded!

As though they were pictures Libby had drawn, images marched across her mind. The auctioneer, selling off a human being. The evil-looking man who had bought Jordan. And then Jordan himself.

As much as she wanted to forget him, Libby couldn’t. Each time she thought of Jordan, one idea returned:
royalty
. But royalty had to do with kings, men who ruled a nation. How could someone who was a slave remind her of a king?

Taking out her paper, pen, and ink, Libby started to draw. She had planned to sketch the slave trader. Instead, she drew Jordan’s straight shoulders, his proud head, and the dark eyes that forgot and looked for one moment beyond the crowd.

After all the uncertainties of the day, Libby found comfort in seeing a picture take shape. When she finished, she knew why Jordan reminded her of royalty. It was more than the way he stood. Though a slave, Jordan had a purpose in life.

That surprised Libby.
How can I believe something like that about a person I’ve never met? It’s my imagination!

But the idea would not leave her. She tried to think about other people who had a purpose in life. One of them was Pa. Even when she was little, Libby had known that he wanted to do business in a way that fit with his beliefs about God.

“I could take shortcuts,” Libby heard him say, “but it wouldn’t be right.”

“You can only do what is honest,” Ma answered. “That’s the way you are. You live according to what you believe.”

Pa nodded. “If I didn’t, I couldn’t live with myself.”

“We’ll make it through the winter anyway,” Libby’s mother told him. “We always do.”

In her younger years Libby hadn’t understood what her parents meant. Yet their words had gone deep into her mind, so deep that she had never forgotten.

Now she tried to remember if there was a winter of hardship, a time of suffering because her father hadn’t earned enough. Libby couldn’t recall such a time. She only remembered how much her mother and father loved her.

Yes, Pa had a purpose in life. Libby didn’t always understand or agree with that purpose. But Pa knew how he wanted to live and where he wanted to go.

Standing up, Libby looked out the window. How could Jordan be the same way, especially when he had no choice about where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do? In a slave owner’s eyes, Jordan was
property!

All her life Libby had wanted to have her own way. To pick her friends and what they would do together. Jordan couldn’t even do that.

Never before had Libby seen one tiny peek into the life of a slave. Until today she had not felt one small emotion about
what a slave child would feel. But now the picture of Jordan standing on the courthouse steps would not leave her.

As Libby studied her drawing, she began to weep. From the deepest part of her being came great sobs. With her face buried in her pillow, Libby cried until she could cry no more. Much as she wanted to forget, she could not push Jordan’s suffering aside.

When Libby finally cried herself out, she went to the pitcher and poured water into the basin. The cold water would not hide the red splotches on her face. Nor could that water wash away the redness of her eyes. Yet Libby Norstad knew she would never again be the same person.

Her hands were still shaking as she laid out the jean cloth on the floor. To Libby’s surprise it felt good to be back with one thing she did know. Auntie had taught her to sew.

When her hands grew steady, Libby took up the scissors and cut out a skirt. As she worked, she felt impatient with the lace-covered dress she wore. Even the stiff crinolines that made her skirts spread wide seemed a waste.

Going to her trunk, Libby lifted the cover. From inside, she lifted out one expensive dress after another. For one brief moment she touched each of them, feeling the soft cloth and enjoying the colors. Her best times with Auntie Vi had come while they were shopping.
Is that why I like my dresses so much?

Close to the bottom of the trunk was a pale green dress that reminded Libby of her mother. Both Auntie Vi and Uncle Alex had told Libby how beautiful she looked in that dress. As though carrying her favorite doll, Libby had taken that memory into a school party. There her friends told her the same thing.

I’ll save it
, Libby thought as she smoothed the cloth.
Even
if I wear jean cloth, I’ll keep this dress for when I want to look my very best
.

At the bottom of the trunk Libby found the dress she wanted to wear—a simple cotton dress—a calico with three colors. When she slipped it over her head, Libby felt better.

Yet when she looked into the mirror, she giggled. Her long tight curls didn’t match the dress.
It’s as though I can’t decide who I am!

Libby took up her hairbrush. With swift movements she brushed out her long curls. At first her long hair just went back the way it was. But finally Libby’s deep red hair hung loosely about her shoulders.

Picking up the front strands, Libby tied them with a ribbon at the top of her head. The rest of her hair fell down her back, long and wavy, curling only at the ends.

When Libby left her room, she felt like a different person. By taking her to a slave auction, Caleb had forced her to think in a new way.

Going down the stairs for supper, she met Caleb coming up. In the midst of the stairway he stopped. Libby caught his glance toward her hair, then his look of approval.

A quick grin lit his face. “You’re not a society girl anymore.”

That was all he said, but Libby knew Caleb liked the change. She had to admit that she did too. Though it would take getting used to, she almost felt like herself, not someone Auntie Vi wanted her to be.

“Caleb,” Libby said quickly. “You said you’d help me with Samson. Can you figure out what he knows?”

“How smart he is?” Caleb asked, and Libby knew he was ready to tease. For the second time that day Caleb seemed like
a boy who could become a friend.

“What commands Samson knows,” she answered. “What I should do to get him to obey.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Caleb told her. “I’ll meet you on the hurricane deck after supper.”

Even as Libby agreed, her thoughts leaped ahead.
And I’ll find out what you’re trying to hide, Caleb Whitney!