Point of No Return (28 page)

Uncle Andrew lifted the blanket and winced as he looked at Matt's back. He gently put the blanket down before I could see.

“Are you all right?” I asked. I felt an angry burning in the pit of my stomach. How could Colonel Ross do this to Matt? What kind of man beats kids like that?

“It hurts, but Eveline keeps putting some kinda lotion on my back.”

“Jonah gave it to me,” Eveline explained.

I leaned close and whispered, “Matt, if you're hurt, I have to call for Mr. Whittaker. We have to get out of here.”

“No,” Matt said weakly. “I said I want to finish this and I will.”

“Then you have to hurry up and get better,” I said louder. “We're gonna run away tonight!”

Eveline pushed her knuckles against her mouth as if it would keep her from crying. “But don't you see? We can't! Matt can't go anywhere. Not like this.”

Uncle Andrew lowered his head, and for a second I thought he was going to pray. “I'm afraid you're right, Eveline,” he said. “We can't go anywhere tonight.”

I looked at Uncle Andrew bug-eyed. “But Clarence is going to—”

“My daddy? You've seen my daddy?”

“Yes, Eveline. He's well. But we have a problem. Your father is going to try to run away tonight—and we won't be with him!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jack tells about the long night.

“W
HY CAN'T
I
RUN
back to Mr. Mason's to warn Clarence?” I asked after we left Matt to sleep in his room.

“It's too far to run and would draw suspicion,” Uncle Andrew answered as we walked down the stairs. “We can only hope that if he does run tonight, he'll simply hide and wait for us at the hollow tree.”

Lizzie was in the kitchen with our tub of water. She gave us an uneasy look as we came down the stairs from the servants' quarters, but didn't say anything except, “Your water is ready, sir. If you'll come over here, I'll clean off your trousers. Eveline, give us a hand.”

I felt bad for Eveline. Watching her while she cleaned off our pants and shoes, I kept thinking about her daddy and what he was about to do. What would he think when he got to the hollow tree and we weren't there?

Uncle Andrew and I sat down at the dinner table with Colonel Ross, and all I could think about was that he ordered Matt to be beaten. I didn't know why. I didn't care. There was no excuse for it. I had to bite my tongue, because I wanted to say something nasty to him.

Uncle Andrew was friendly and nice to Colonel Ross. I figured he must be the world's greatest actor. He asked the Colonel about the local economy and the future of the South, and good investment practices.

Then dinner was served, and I felt bad all over again. Jonah brought in a large tray with the main course plates and, seconds later, Eveline and Matt came in to serve the dinner rolls and gravy. Matt looked terrible and walked as if every move he made hurt him a lot. He wouldn't look me in the eye.

I wanted to jump on the table and ask the Colonel just who in the world he thought he was to have my best friend whipped! I know it wasn't very Christian of me, but I imagined what it'd be like to have the Colonel himself whipped.

The storm that had been hanging around all day suddenly broke right after dinner. The lightning flashed through all the windows, and the thunder shook the house. The rain fell in buckets.

“Where are you staying tonight?” Colonel Ross asked after we settled by the fire in the family room.

“I had our luggage sent to the inn down the road,” Uncle Andrew answered.

“I won't have it, “ Colonel Ross said firmly. “You'll stay here tonight. I insist. I'll send Jonah to gather your things. I find you both good company and won't allow you to travel in such inclement weather. Jonah!”

I stood at the window and watched the rain fall against the glass. Uncle Andrew and Colonel Ross were playing chess at a small table on the other side of the room. The clock on the mantel chimed eight o'clock, and I wondered if Clarence had escaped yet. I had a tight feeling in my chest about it. It was awful, and the harder I tried not to think about Clarence running through the dark rain, the more I did.

“Sit down, Jack,” Uncle Andrew said. “Read a book. You're making us both nervous standing there like that.”

Colonel Ross agreed. “It's as if you're waiting for some bad news. You aren't, are you?”

“No, sir,” I replied. “I'm just waiting for Jonah to come back with our suitcases.”

Both of them looked at me as if I'd said a foreign word. It wasn't until later I learned that
suitcase
wasn't a normal word then. They used words like
trunks
or
baggage
or
luggage
instead.

A carriage raced up the driveway to the front porch and then stopped. I watched as Jonah leaped out and, along with the driver, started carrying our
trunks
up to the front door. The rain lashed at them as they did. The front door opened with a bang. Colonel Ross went to Jonah and barked instructions about where to put our belongings.

I think Jonah signaled the Colonel to come into the hall, because the Colonel said, “What? What is it?” and stepped out.

Uncle Andrew stood up at the table and we both found ourselves drifting toward the door so we could hear better.

The Colonel caught sight of us and waved for us to come out. “One of Mr. Mason's slaves ran away. Jonah heard about it at the inn.”

My heart jumped into my throat.

“Truly? How did it happen?” Uncle Andrew asked coolly.

Jonah, still standing there dripping wet, explained, “It was one of Master Mason's new slaves. I guess he's run away before so they fixed an ornament of some bells to his head to keep him from running away again. Now, I don't know how, but the ornament came off in the woods behind Master Mason's land so Master Hickocks, the overseer, got his tracking dogs and found it hidden under some leaves.”

I tried to keep from looking at Uncle Andrew. I suspected that we were thinking the same thing: We should have
buried
that helmet.

Jonah continued, “Master Hickocks took the ornament back to the slave and said he was going to fix it on his head good and tight. Then suddenly the slave acted like a mad man and attacked Master Hickocks until he was barely conscious and then ran away into the fields. They're looking for him now.”

“Pity the poor creature. If they catch him, they'll kill him,” Colonel Ross said, then clapped his hands together. “Shall we finish that game of chess, Andrew?”

I was in my room getting ready for bed when there was a knock at my door. I opened it and Matt pushed past me with an armload of wood. “This is for your fire,” he said, then dumped the logs next to the stove in the corner.

“Matt!” I said and closed the door fast. “Are you all right?”

“My back still hurts, but I feel okay.” He sat down where he was and slumped wearily. “Did you hear about Clarence?”

I nodded.

“It's all the slaves downstairs are talking about,” he said.

“How's Eveline? Is she upset?” I asked.

“What do
you
think? How would you feel if
your
dad was being hunted like some kind of wild animal in the woods?”

“Okay, it was a stupid question.”

We looked at each other for a minute. The rain had stopped and outside we could hear dogs barking somewhere far away. Were they chasing Clarence?

It was the unspoken question between us.

“What are we going to do?” Matt asked. “Does Reverend Andrew have a plan?”

“Sort of,” I answered. “But we'll have to let you know what it is.”

“Terrific,” Matt said as if he didn't believe a word of it. He stood up to go. “I'm not going to fix your fire. You can figure out how to do that yourself.”

“Do you want to stay in here tonight? You can sleep in my bed,” I offered.

Matt looked at the big, cozy bed and, for a second, I could tell that it's what he wanted to do more than anything. But he shook his head no. “It'll get us in trouble.”

When he reached the door, I said, “Matt, we can stop this story right now if you want to.”

“Do
you
want to?” he asked.

“You're the one who's getting hurt,” I said. “It's up to you.”

He thought about it a moment. “I said I was going to finish this story and I am. If I go back now, I'll feel like a coward.”

He slipped out the door and closed it quietly behind him.

I crawled into bed and wondered if I'd do the same thing in his place.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jack tells about getting caught.

M
ORNING CAME AND
the clouds went. The sun shone through my window bright and warm. My first thought was that it was a good day for an escape. My second thought was whether Clarence was caught or not. I prayed he wasn't.

I got dressed and went to Uncle Andrew's room just as he was coming out into the hall. “Good morning,” he said without a lot of cheer. I guessed he was worried about Clarence, too. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept okay,” I said. “How about you?”

His voice went low. “Not well at all. I thought about Clarence mostly. Today we
must
work out an escape plan with Matt and Eveline.”

Jonah appeared at the head of the stairs and said breakfast was being served in the dining room.

Colonel Ross was eating toast and sipping his coffee when we walked in. He stood up until we were seated, then called out for our food to be served. Matt and Eveline brought in plates of egg, ham, and bread. We exchanged cautious glances. The Colonel said that he had heard that the runaway slave from the night before hadn't been found yet.

“It's a nuisance,” he said. “I can't imagine what goes through a slave's head. He has a place to live, steady work, food, and clothing. Why would he want to run away?”

I clenched my teeth to keep back what I wanted to say.

“Forgive me for saying so, Colonel,” Uncle Andrew began, “but I believe that, for most of them, being a
slave
is cause enough to run away. I doubt that we as whites can appreciate what it is like to have one's freedom completely stripped away, but if we could imagine it, we wouldn't sit for it for very long. After all, what was your War of Independence for if not to be free from the rule of someone else?”

Colonel Ross gazed at Uncle Andrew. “By heavens, you almost sounded like one of those abolitionists.”

Uncle Andrew chuckled as if the idea couldn't be more ridiculous. “I'm not a politician, sir, nor particularly active in your country's social issues. Would it be right for me, a foreigner, to intrude?”

“To be quite frank, I don't think it's right for
anyone
to intrude on the rights of a man and what he does with his possessions. You would no more want me to tell you what to do with the drawings you made of our birds, than I would want you to tell me what to do with my horses or cattle or slaves. Property is property, no matter how large or small.”

I gripped my knife and fork until my knuckles turned white.

“To play the devil's advocate,” Uncle Andrew replied, “we must remember that, in the case of slaves, we are talking about fellow human beings.”

“Are we? I thought we were talking about
property
. And I will do with my property whatever I like, regardless of what those blasted abolitionists say.”

I think it was probably the stress of the past couple of days, because Uncle Andrew went red in the face and looked as if he wanted to say a lot of things to set the Colonel straight. But he choked it all back. I mean, he
really
choked it all back—and started gasping.

The Colonel was on his feet right away and started pounding on Uncle Andrew's back. Finally, Uncle Andrew wheezed and got his breath back.

“Are you well, sir?” the Colonel asked.

Uncle Andrew nodded. “I'm so sorry. I simply found that hard to swallow.”