Point of No Return (27 page)

Jonah, who was carrying a tray of tea for the Colonel, pushed it into my hands. “Take this to the study,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

As I turned to go, I heard Jonah stomp down the back stairs and say to the disobedient slave, “Why do you make me have to do this? You know I hate it. You know it makes me cry. Why can't you behave so I won't have to whip you, boy?”

I carried the heavy tray through the house and into Colonel Ross's study. He was leaning over some ledgers, concentrating hard, when I put the tea next to him.

“Your tea, sir,” I said.

I guess he was expecting the voice to belong to Jonah and it surprised him to hear mine. He looked up and smiled, and his teeth glistened through his mustache and chin beard. “Thanks, son,” he answered.

I didn't move away as I was supposed to. I had something I wanted to say. But I was scared and it took me a minute to get my nerves together. Outside, dark clouds rolled in and I heard some distant thunder.

“Is there something you want?” the Colonel asked.

I shuffled my feet a little. “Colonel—er, Master Ross? I was wondering if we could…uh, talk, just for a minute.”

“Talk?”

“I mean, you seem like a nice guy and I thought maybe I could be honest with you about something.”

Colonel leaned back from his desk and gave me his full attention. “Honest? Honest about what?”

I fiddled with the buttons on my jacket and worked up my courage. “The truth is…I'm not a slave.”

“Aren't you?”

“No, sir. I'm free. I've always been free. The slave traders grabbed me and made me come here and then sold me, even though I told them I was free.” There. It was out. I waited to see what he'd do.

The Colonel hit his palms against the top of his desk. “No! The scoundrels! How could they do that to you?”

I relaxed. “I don't know, but they did. You believe me, don't you?”

“Of course I do.” The Colonel was on his feet in an instant and the size of him—he was
big
—made me a little nervous again. He rushed to the door and called out to whoever was in hearing distance. “I want Jonah in here right away!”

“Jonah?” I asked. “But he doesn't know anything about it.”

The Colonel waved at me to stay put. “Listen, son, Jonah's going to help me get to the bottom of this. For one thing, I want him to call Kinsey in from the fields. Kinsey knows those slave traders. If there's something illegal going on, I want to get to hear about it. Now, tell me what happened.”

I was so relieved that I told him just about everything—about Eveline, Clarence, Odyssey, and how the slave traders grabbed us and brought us south. I told him everything except the part about Jack and the Imagination Station, since I didn't want him to think I was completely crazy. By the time I finished, Jonah showed up at the study door.

“Yes, Master?” he asked, his body still shaking from the whipping he had just given that field slave.

“Jonah,” the Colonel said, “step forward, please.”

Jonah did, until he was standing next to my chair. He looked down at me, and I could tell he was confused. He knew something was going on but couldn't figure out what it was.

The Colonel sat down behind his desk again. “I want you to take this boy and teach him a thing or two about lying.”

“Lying!” I cried out.

Jonah grabbed me by the shirt and said sadly, “I knew it. It was just a matter of time.”

“But—” I tried to get out words of protest, but nothing came.

“And, boy,” the Colonel said to me, “I suggest you keep your mouth shut in the future. Nobody here likes to think our fellow Southern gentlemen are cheats.”

“Come on, son,” Jonah said and yanked me out of the room and through the house.

“No! No!” I cried the whole way. I squirmed, but Jonah's grip was like a vise.

“I told you, boy. I told you to keep your mouth shut. Now look what you've gone and done. I get done with one, and now I have to deal with another.”

Going through the kitchen, I saw Eveline rush forward to help me, but Jonah stopped her. “Nothing you can do, child. There's nothing you can do.”

He dragged me down the back stairs to the same spot where he had whipped the field slave. Drops of sweat still spotted the dirt under our feet.

“No, Jonah, don't,” I pleaded. “I'm sorry. I was trying to help!”

He tied my hands to the hitching post. He sounded as if he was going to cry. “I warned you, son. I warned you.”

He picked up a long, slender switch. Thunder rolled above, and rain started to fall.

CHAPTER SIX

Jack tells about their arrival.

U
NCLE
A
NDREW AND
I got to Colonel Ross's plantation late in the morning. The carriage pulled up the drive as the rain stopped. We climbed out, and Uncle Andrew gave the driver instructions to take our belongings to an inn about a quarter of a mile up the road. As we walked to the stairs leading to the door, we passed a puddle of mud. I glanced down at it, trying to be careful not to step in, when Uncle Andrew gave me a slight nudge. It was just enough to knock me off balance and I fell on my knees—right in the mud.

“Hey!” I called out. “Why'd you do that?”

“You'll see,” Uncle Andrew said.

The front door opened and a wiry, old servant with a worried look greeted us. We stepped into the front hallway as Uncle Andrew introduced himself. The servant's eye fell to the mud all over my pants, then back to Uncle Andrew. “I'll announce your arrival to the Colonel,” he said before he shuffled off.

Colonel Ross came down the hall and I was surprised by how big he was. He wasn't heavy, just tall. And he had long curly hair, a mustache, and one of those little beards that stuck out from his chin. “The ornithologist!” he said. “I heard you were in the area. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Alexander Ross.”

“This is my nephew Jack,” Uncle Andrew said.

“An honor, Jack,” the Colonel said, then looked down at the mud on my pants. “Did you have an accident?”

“Well, I—”

“Yes,” Uncle Andrew cut in. “He tripped as we approached the porch. Would you mind if—”

“Jonah, take the young master here to the kitchen to see if you can wipe the mud off,” Colonel Ross said.

“Yes, sir,” Jonah replied and signaled me to follow him.

The Colonel invited Uncle Andrew into the family room, while we walked in the opposite direction down the hall.

In the kitchen, a black woman with a scarf on her head was busy getting lunch ready. She hardly looked at me. The servant named Jonah led me to a large tub of water, grabbed a rag, and knelt down to wipe at the mud on my pants and shoes.

“I'll do it,” I said.

“No, sir. I'll do it.”

It didn't take long for me to realize that Uncle Andrew knocked me in the mud so I could have a look at the servants' areas. If Matt and Eveline really were here, I'd probably see them in the back. I also remembered that the slave trader told Uncle Andrew that Matt and Eveline had been sold specifically as house slaves.

“Don't dillydally, girl,” the woman in the scarf said.

I looked up to see who she was talking to. I was surprised and happy to see Eveline standing on the other end of the kitchen. She just stared at me, her mouth hanging open.

I wanted to say something to her—hello, and “Where's Matt?” and other things I was busting to ask—but she shook her head quickly.

“Go on, girl,” the woman said. Eveline walked past me and out the back door.

“Unless you want me to wash your britches, that's the best I can do,” the servant said.

I looked down and saw that Jonah had gotten rid of most of the mud. “I think that's good. Thanks.”

Jonah took me back to the family room. I got the impression that Uncle Andrew and Colonel Ross had become fast friends. They talked like old buddies. The Colonel insisted that we have dinner with him, then apologized that his wife couldn't join us since she'd gone to visit her mother in Savannah.

“I don't know much about birds,” the Colonel said, “but you're welcome to any resource I have that will assist your expedition.”

“I'm obliged, sir,” Uncle Andrew said, then hesitated as if he were about to ask the unaskable.

Colonel Ross picked up the hint. “You have a question, sir?”

“Mr. Mason was very kind to lend one of his slaves to me. Jack is capable, but he's—”

“Say no more,” Colonel Ross said. “I can certainly provide you with a slave.”

“I saw one in the kitchen that would be perfect,” I jumped in.

Uncle Andrew shot a heedful look my way. “Did you?”

“It's a young girl. I think she's just the right size to climb trees and find the nests.”

Colonel Ross tugged at his whiskers. “There are better and more experienced slaves to send with you. The girl is new, and I'm not entirely sure I can trust her in an open field.”

“I would take full responsibility, of course.”

“I have no doubt that you would,” the Colonel replied. “But taking responsibility isn't the point. I believe it would be reckless to send her with you. I'll send Washington instead.”

Washington was a field slave who was probably in his thirties, but looked as if he were my age. He talked more than any other slave I'd met—about his wife and children, the weather, the landscape, where we were from, birds—and I wondered if there was anything he
wouldn't
talk about.

I tuned out. My mind was on other things. I felt worried and discouraged that Washington went with us instead of Eveline or Matt. What were we going to do now? How would we contact them to say that we were all going to escape that night? Where
was
Matt anyway?

The dark clouds hung over us all afternoon. Uncle Andrew was real sneaky in how he asked Washington questions about his life as a slave and if he'd ever thought about escaping. Just then, Washington brought up the Underground Railroad.

“Yes, sir, I heard tell of a railroad for slaves. But I thought somebody made it up. Do you know anything about it, sir?” Washington asked.

I waited for Uncle Andrew to tell him the truth.

Instead, Uncle Andrew just shrugged. “Not very much. Perhaps less than you do.”

Rain spat down at us in small sprinkles, and we decided to go back to the Colonel's. After we made sure that Washington was back in his slave quarters, I had a question for Uncle Andrew. “Why didn't you tell him about the Underground Railroad?”

“Didn't you notice how much he talked?”

“How could I
not
notice?” I snorted.

“If he talks that much about nothing in particular, how much more would he have to say about something really important—like us, or the Railroad?”

“You mean he might be like a spy or an informer?” I asked.

“Possibly,” Uncle Andrew replied. “There was something about the way he asked me if I knew anything about the Railroad. He was too aggressive, particularly when you consider that I'm a complete stranger. How did he know I wouldn't turn the tables on him and report him to the overseer? So, if he isn't some sort of an informer, he's reckless, which can be just as bad.”

We walked along quietly for a minute, then I asked, “What are we going to do, Uncle Andrew? I've seen Eveline, but I don't know where Matt is. How can we find them and talk to them without making everybody suspicious? Do you want to throw me in another mud puddle?”

Uncle Andrew chuckled, then looked down at our clothes. We were covered with mud and leaves. “I don't think that will be necessary. Let's simply walk to the back door of the main house and ask to be cleaned off. Chances are we'll see Eveline and Matt in the kitchen, preparing for the evening meal.”

I didn't realize how cold it was outside until we stepped into the warmth of the kitchen. The woman in the scarf was there, wrestling with a large duck. Eveline was there, too, peeling potatoes.

She looked up at us but didn't react.

Uncle Andrew approached the woman with the scarf. “What's your name, my good woman?”

“I'm Lizzie,” she answered.

“Lizzie, would you be so kind as to fetch us some fresh water so we can get the mud and leaves off our clothes?”

Lizzie looked down at her duck as if to say, “Can't you see I'm busy?” But Uncle Andrew kept his eyes on her, and she gave a quick curtsy and dashed out the door.

When we were sure it was safe, Uncle Andrew spoke softly to Eveline. “We're going to run away tonight, Eveline.”

“Run away!” she gasped.

“Yes. We're going to run away and meet with your father.”

Eveline's eyes went wide. “My daddy?”

Uncle Andrew nodded. “Now, how can we tell Matt?”

“Yeah,” I asked, “where is he?”

Eveline's face fell. “Oh no…no…we can't run away tonight.”

“Why not?” Uncle Andrew asked.

Eveline looked around nervously, then wiggled a finger at us. “Come here.”

We followed her up a small staircase to a room on the second floor. Eveline opened the creaky wooden door. The room was dark. I could just barely make out the bed and the outline of someone in it.

“Matt?” Eveline whispered.

“Huh?” Matt answered weakly.

We moved closer to the bed. My heart pounded hard. I still couldn't see what was wrong with him, but I knew it wasn't good.

“Matt—it's me,” I said.

“Hiya, Jack. Glad you could make it.” Matt was lying on his stomach.

“What's wrong with you? Are you sick?” I asked.

“Yeah. Kinda.”

Eveline whispered, “Jonah took a switch and whipped him. I don't know why.”

“I talked too much,” Matt groaned. “Colonel Ross made him do it.”