Good Fortune (9781416998631) (20 page)

BOOK: Good Fortune (9781416998631)
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Night came once more, and we fled again with haste. But by early morning, before the sun came out, my body had all but given out. We sought, and soon found, a small cave nearly hidden by some underbrush that could just hide us all. We filed in, and I sat back against the rock with a long yawn. Tucker looked over at me, his eyes revealing his exhaustion.

“You all right?”

I nodded, grateful for his comforting presence. His eyes remained on me, examining me to see if what I had said was the truth. Finally, he reached over and looked at my thumb, which I'd cut when I had fallen. Daniel was pulling out of his sack the last pinch of the first corn cake Mary had prepared for him.

“Hand all bloody-like.” Tucker said.

I shrugged loosely. “Said I'm all right.”

Disregarding my words, Tucker ripped some cloth from his shirt and tied it around my finger. I clenched my teeth and looked up at him appreciatively.

“We should be at that riva soon enough. Gots a lil' ways mo' to go, but if we all rest good an' long, then we's can make it befo' daylight tomorrow.” I nodded at Tucker as my brother settled down next to me. He put a piece of corn cake in my hand, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

We had run for two nights without trouble, and I grew calmer and a little more confident as I shut my eyes that
morning. All of a sudden, a strange feeling struck me.
I'm running to freedom!
A small smile drifted to my lips. We had escaped and were headed for freedom! I saw in the back of my mind Masta Jeffrey's face distorting as he wondered why his “plaything” had run away. Then another thought came, one I had tried to suppress. I imagined John lying on his pallet, praying hard for us. I returned the prayer.

Sleep was waiting for me this time, and I fell into its arms readily. Exhaustion won out over fear, but the three of us slept fitfully. If I had known that this would be the last time the three of us would be together as we were, maybe I would have savored sleep more. But I didn't know.

CHAPTER
 
20 

N
IGHTTIME FOUND US WITH THE STRENGTH TO MOVE ON
. W
E
dashed out into the starless and foggy night in silence, reminding each other to stay together. All too soon, I was stumbling along, sore and nearly breathless, not yet used to so much nighttime exertion. I shook off what I could, however, since we had barely begun.

After hours of running, we stopped for a few minutes to catch our breath and to feed our grumbling stomachs.

Daniel tried to lift my spirits. “Sarah, when we's get to that riva, an' ride ova on that skiff, we ain' gotta run so much. Can walk a lil' mo'.”

“You tole me already, Daniel,” I said, pulling my aching foot out of my shoe to rub it, “but I don't mind runnin'. It's takin' us to freedom!” Daniel's red eyes didn't light up at the word. Instead, he glanced hesitantly behind him, over to Tucker, who was leaning against a tree sipping his water, and then back at me again.

“Dunno if Masta gonna send afta us or not. Figure he will, but cain't say if they already found us out or not.” I looked down at the ground, trying hard not to think of
what he was saying, and busied my mind with putting my shoe back on.

“Sarah,” he said, looking back over at me, “if we—”

“C'mon, we gotta keep movin'!” I said, standing quickly and walking over to Tucker. There was no room in my spirit to hear any disheartening words. “Hope we don't hafta stop agin till we get to that riva,” I added as the two of them fell into step close behind me. A silent prayer escaped my lips. We were going to make it.

We had to stop again, despite our desire to reach our destination as quickly as we could. It took us another day's worth of rest before we reached the river. By the middle of the night, we were out of sight of each other. We each had our own pace, and our own method of slipping into the darkness when we heard any sounds of danger. Because of this, and in order to move as quickly as possible, we planned to find each other at the river if we did happen to become separated.

At long last, the river came into my view. It was still far off in the distance, but near enough that I felt relief—a relief that was very short-lived.

I jumped in fright, almost tripping over my own feet as I heard the sound I had anticipated but dreaded at the same time, the sound I had prayed we would not hear.

The dogs!

Before I could catch myself, I had fallen to the ground, reopening the wound Masta Jeffrey had given me under my left eye. The ground seemed to rumble beneath my fall, as if trying to lead the dogs right to the spot where I lay. I tried to scramble up, but I tripped and fell again in my panic.

One second . . . two seconds . . . it's almost over. They're coming to get me. . . .

Someone, either Daniel or Tucker, pulled me up and pushed me onward. I couldn't tell who it was, but I could feel the terror in his trembling hands, before he disappeared into the woods.

My heart raced as I began to run even before I was steady on my feet. Before I knew it, I bounded faster than I ever thought possible, leaping over roots and dodging branches. I could get away—I
would
get away. As my legs ran, I looked around for Daniel and Tucker, but I saw no one. I was alone.

Get to the river.

My thoughts spun faster in my mind.

Get to the . . .

A single dog had barked once more, as if it wasn't quite sure whether or not it had found our trail. But the noise was terrifying.

I stumbled but then scrambled on my knees until I could get my footing again. Branches ripped at my clothes and skin like overgrown thorns reaching to stab the life out of me. But I didn't feel them.

One dog began to whine and was joined by another. They were getting closer.

Then I came upon the river so suddenly that I would've splashed right into it if not for the large tree there to stop me. The tall tree loomed over me with its outstretched branches, welcoming me like the arms of a protector. It roots stretched down into the dark river.

An ancestor.

Mary had told me that whenever a person was in grave danger, an ancestor was always there to help, you just had to find them.

I heard horses in the distance, a sound that shook me inside as I stood on the embankment, leaning against the tree. I steadied my breathing as I pulled off my shoes and hat and stuffed them into my sack. Stealing glances behind me, I buried the sack loosely beneath the muddy sticks and leaves piled near the part of the tree trunk that sat outside of the water, so that I could retrieve it quickly when I needed to.

The trunk was too wide for me to grasp, so I lowered myself down into the water by holding onto a thick limb. The river was so cold! Small chill bumps ran up and down my arms, but fear of what lay behind pushed me farther down into the water. I frowned, my free arm reaching farther down to find a lower branch. Just as I heard another bloodcurdling bark, my arm smacked against the branch I needed. I grasped it with both hands and lowered myself further. The water rose to my chin.

I searched in vain for the skiff that should have been waiting there for us. Even though the moon hid behind the clouds, enough light peeked through for me to search the
dark banks of the river. The skiff was nowhere in sight.

Now what?

One of John's warnings flitted past my mind.

“If you eva gotta cross deep waters, make sho' you shed yo' clothes.”

“Why?”

“It's wintatime, Sarah, an' them rivers hold all the cold you could imagine.”

Another shiver ran up and down my body. In my haste, I had forgotten to strip my clothes from my back, and I had nothing else to dress myself in. They clung to me as I struggled to stay warm and alert.

I waited. Time ticked very slowly as I listened to the barking of the dogs. My heart was beating so loudly, I knew the dogs would find me for sure! They seemed to get closer with every breath I took, so I made every single breath a prayer to God to keep me hidden. I could've easily slipped into the peace and quiet of the river forever. . . .

Suddenly, their barks turned into angry growls. My heart quickened, but I knew they could not have seen me. They were far from where I stood in the water. But had they found Tucker? Or . . . or my brother?

Holding my breath, I turned my head and peered around the tree, but I could see nothing in the night. What I heard, however, stilled my heart.

The night carried to my ears a loud grunt, almost a yell. One of the dogs yelped loudly in response. I listened closely to the broken shouts of the voices in the distance.

“. . . got somethin' . . . Let's go!” The sound of the
galloping horses came hauntingly nearer.

“. . . stabbed my goddamn dog, one of 'em did. Find 'im!” The drawl came from a commanding voice. I couldn't tell how many others were with him, scurrying around in the shadows. I inched as low as I could and peered around once again. Still I could see nothing. I was frozen with fear. Then a thought sprang to my mind.

Sarah, get across the river.

I ignored the impulse. I had to know if whoever had stabbed the dog had been found, or if he had safely hidden himself away. My answer came almost immediately.

“There one goes! You seen 'im? Stop!” I couldn't make out the rest of his words; they were lost to the night. But whoever had been discovered surely wouldn't turn himself in that easily. More shouts echoed into the night. I shivered in the water as the woods grew still again.

Suddenly, there was a loud rustling followed by two gunshots. A shout bit through the air. A scream almost emerged from my lips. My heart squeezed tighter than my grasp on the branch.

I could hear them questioning the fallen man, his shot body most likely at the mercy of the whip.

“. . . you headed, boy?” a new voice echoed through the air. I knew right away it was Masta Jeffrey. His presence chilled my bones more than the cold water did. Why was he out here? Mastas didn't usually chase runaways themselves.

I strained my ears against the yells that reverberated through the woods, but my heart refused to identify the person who had been captured. Another question from the
slave catchers rang through the air. I shuddered, anticipating the worst.

What if he is conscious and he reveals our plans and our route of escape? What if they catch me next?

But only silence followed the questions that I could no longer make out. Whoever it was, he was not answering. Whether it was a conscious choice to remain silent, I could not tell. I wanted my spirit to relieve me of the sound of dying moans, to rid me of the images in my mind of dripping blood and hounds' teeth ripping through soft skin, tearing hopes and dreams apart. But instead, my spirit again whispered,
Sarah, get across the river.

I looked out over the river, hot tears springing steadily from my eyes, and tried to steady my mind so that I could think.

“Swim,” I mumbled softly, needing to hear my own voice. “Swim across.” I could've stayed. I could've hidden and prayed for God to cover me with his big wings. But I was far enough from them to make it across without being detected, and my spirit was urging me to cross.

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