47 (20 page)

I threw the stone. But even as the missile left my hand Stewart must have sensed my presence, because he turned as the rock flew through the air. Everything worked to
gether and my rock met his left eye. Stewart grabbed at his
head and then fell to the floor.

I staggered to my friend's side. On a shelf next to the
table was a knife. I used this to cut the bonds that held
John's hands. I expected the basket connected to his wrists
to fall but I was surprised when he was dragged down to
the other end of the table. Then I realized that the heavy
basket tied to his feet no longer had the counterbalance of
the other basket and it pulled my friend to the other end.

John sat up and grabbed his ribcage.

"It hurts," he moaned. "It hurts. So this is what it means
to suffer."

"Can you git up?" I asked him.

"Pain," he replied.

I used the knife to cut the bonds around his ankles and
then I helped him to the side of the table. He tried to get
to his feet but his legs gave out like they were rubber. I got
down on my knees to help him but just as I did a shadow
fell over us.

"I'll kill botha you niggahs!" Mr. Stewart shouted.

He was there above us, blood coming from his ru
ined eye.

Before I could do anything he was on me. I felt his
hands close around my throat.

"Damn you!" I shouted, thinking that at least I could
condemn his evil soul to hell before he killed me.

"Huh!" he exclaimed, and his grip loosened.

I thought that maybe my curse had instant effect. Stew
art fell to the side and there above me stood Eighty-four, the club clutched in her hands. She dropped the log and
helped both me and John to our feet.

"Take me to my yellow sack," he whispered in my ear as we went through the door.

John could hardly walk and I was weak from the bleeding
wounds on my back. Without Eighty-four we would never
have made it. She nearly carried John and I supported my
self by holding onto her shoulder.

After a long time we came upon the tree where John
kept his shiny yellow sack. He opened it up and took out a
little red lacquer box. From this he brought out a metal
disk that stood upon a spindly tripod. He did something
with the legs, and the disk started turning slowly. Then he
collapsed.

"We'll be safe for a while," he whispered. "Have to
sleep."

He fell unconscious and soon after I followed.

In my dreams I was being chased by a one-eyed mon
ster who was at once one of the Calash and the wounded
Mr. Stewart.

17
.

"Wake up, boy," someone said. "Wake up."

In my dream I was floating on a square raft down a wide
river. The sun was glittering in my eyes and warming my
skin with its bright rays. A great she-bear stood on her back
legs at the shore and roared me welcome.

"Wake up, boy," a female voice said. She shook me
gently but still the wounds on my back felt as if hot coals
had been dropped on them.

"Ow!" I cried.

I opened my eyes to see Eighty-four sitting there in the glow of something like lamplight. It was a steady orange
radiance emanating from the tripod that John had set up
before he passed out. After a moment I realized that it
must have been nighttime because out beyond the orange
glow was darkness.

"You crazy, Eighty-four? We cain't have no light in the
night. They'll see us out here."

"He said no," she whispered. "He said that they cain't see us 'cause'a his little lantern."

She didn't have to say who
he
was. I knew that John had
set up some magic to protect us.

"He bettah?" I asked.

"Not hardly," Eighty-four said. "He crawled off an' said
that he had to do sumpin' to make his legs an' arms not be so stretched out. I said that I'd help him but he bade me to stay here wit' you."

I figured that he was probably going to do something so
strange that he thought he might scare Eighty-four. Maybe he was going to turn back into a tiny little orange and pur
ple man, I thought. And then I wondered about that. How
could I have gotten so far away from a slave's everyday life
that I was thinking about magic and defying the white
men that owned me? That wasn't me. I bowed my head
when white men addressed me. I said
yassuh
and
nawsuh
whenever they asked me a question. How did I find myself
in the night, half dead, thinking about magic and so deep
in trouble that nothing I knew of could save my life.

"I love him," Eighty-four said.

"You do?"

"Uh-huh. He was so sweet to me them days that we picked cotton. He talked to me like he could see right in my heart. An' I know he felt sumpin' fo' me too."

"He said, 'that Eighty-four's a beautiful girl,'" I added.

"He said that?" She seemed amazed.

"Yes, ma'am. He said that you were just as pretty as
Miss Eloise. And I do believe he's right."

Eighty-four grinned and leaned over to kiss my brow.

"You a nice boy," she said. "I sorry I was so mean to you
that day we pick cotton."

"Shoot," I said. "Pickin' that cotton make a mad daws
out of a bunny rabbit."

Eighty-four grinned some more and touched my cheek
with her calloused palm.

"Maybe Numbah Twelve and you and me can get away
somewhere where they ain't got no slaves," she said. "Maybe
him an' me get married and we could raise you as our boy."

Even though I was weak and hurting I felt something
grand about her including me in her dream. All John had to
do was give her a few nice words and she changed from a
sullen bully into a woman filled with hope.

"How are you, Forty-seven?" John asked then.

We both turned and saw him emerge into the orange
light. He was walking upright and full of strength. It was as
if all of Mr. Stewart's tortures had amounted to naught. John winked at me and I knew that he had done some
powerful magic.

"Was you listenin' to us?" Eighty-four asked warily.

"Only a little bit, Tweenie. I was happy to see you and
I didn't want to interrupt."

The slave-girl bowed her head. I knew that she was embarrassed at what she had said. I think she was more wor
ried about him knowing what she felt than she was about
the white men that had to be after us.

Just as I had this thought I heard the braying of Tobias's

hounds. There was a yip and then a loud howl. And we all
three knew that the white men were hunting us down.

"Put out that light, Numbah Twelve," I said.

"No one can see us as long as this light shines," he
replied calmly. "They can't see us while we remain within the light of this disk."

I had no idea of what his words meant. And even
though I trusted him I knew that he was capable of making
mistakes. After all, him thinking that saving Tobias's daugh
ter would keep the plantation master from hurting us is
what got my friends beaten and killed.

The hounds were getting closer. I could hear each one
barking and calling for black blood.

"We got to get outta here, baby," Eighty-four said to
her man.

"Forty-seven is too weak," he answered. "And if we move
away from my little machine the dogs will run us down."

"They'll smell his blood if we stay here," she argued.

"No," he said. "You have to trust me, Tweenie. I know
what I'm doing."

"You didn't know so good when you got yo butt tied up
in Mr. Stewart's shack," she said.

"If you run Tobias and his dogs will tear you to shreds,"
he said. "But if you stay, and I survive, we will be married
in a church and Forty-seven here will grow into a man who
will save the whole world."

"If we run we can do that."

"If we run Forty-seven will die and the world will pass away with him," John said.

Eighty-four gazed at me with an emotion in her face
that I could not decipher. Maybe she hated me for standing in the way of her happiness. Maybe she wondered at
the deep connection between me and her man. I had no answers for her. John and his war with the being called
Wall was just as much a mystery to me as was the sun in the
sky or the secret to how birds learned to fly. All I knew for
sure was that he was right about my wounds. I couldn't
have risen to my feet if an angel flew down and bade me to
follow him to the Pearly Gates.

Just at that moment a dog bayed not ten yards from
where we sat. Eighty-four and I turned our heads to see, at
the furthest extreme of orange light, the snout and tail of
one of Tobias's hounds! The dog was tinted orange by
John's glowing apparatus. It seemed to glance at us, or at
least in our direction, but then he turned away, howled,
and ran off into the night.

For a moment I saw one of Tobias's men come into the glow but he just looked through us and then went on after
the dogs.

We all sat silently for long moments after the hunters had gone. The dogs' braying faded into the distance.

I was so tired that when I closed my eyes I couldn't
open them again. But I wasn't quite asleep. I could still
hear John and Eighty-four talking.

"What we gonna do if'n we cain't run?" she asked.

"When the sun comes up," he said, "I can take you and
Forty-seven one at a time to a special place."

"An' we just gonna wait till then?" she asked.

"I guess."

"Then why don't you come ovah here an' sit next to me
t'keep me warm?"

I heard a rustling and then I passed over into the dark
ness of sleep.

1
8.

When I awoke I was laying face up upon a large flat stone.
The sun was hovering above the level of the pine trees. I
could see its red glow beyond my feet. The pain from the
whipping wasn't as bad as it had been before but I was still very weak. Even the morning sun couldn't warm my bones
or brighten my eyes.

"Forty-seven," John said.

"Yeah, John?"

"I'm sorry but you are dying."

"I am?" I could hear Eighty-four crying but I couldn't
see her.

"I'm sorry," John said. He was standing to my right, looking down on my demise.

"It wasn't yo fault," I said. "I was the one wanted to go back and save Eloise. I'm glad we did it but I feel terrible
about Mud Albert. If I die will you bury me next to that
river we saw? The one where the bears was."

"You won't die," John said. "At least not today."

"But you said
"

"I said I was sorry. I wanted to wait a while before we
became brothers. I wanted you to grow into a man and
learn the heritage of your race. A young man like you will find it hard to wage the kind of war that is bound to arise
between you and Wall and his agents."