By Way of the Rose (16 page)

“Sure, I'm not afraid of him. He's just a mean old man.” She followed Shane but Greta stayed firmly planted on the bridge.

When they'd made it down to the bank they noticed that the old man's cook pot was filled with cold, crusty beans.

“He must have left in a hurry.” Shane shrugged his shoulders.

“He's nowhere to be seen. This is odd.”

Later that evening they heard the news from Sonny Slone that the old man had been found dead down by the river bridge. “My folks are giving him a proper and decent funeral,” Sonny said. “It's our Christian duty, seein’ as my Pa is the minister here. The old guy's in my living room in a pine box right now.” Then Sonny leaned in and whispered in a deep, ominous voice. “He's real white and scary looking! I ain't ever seen nothing like it! ‘Course, I never saw a dead person before.”

“Me either,” Shane said. “I don't guess none of us have.” He shook his head.

They all wondered just how scary the old man would look. Before long their curiosity began to rise.

“Well do you think we should go pay our respects, seeing as we're the only ones in the town who actually knew him, or ever talked to him?” Sarah asked the group. She had never seen a dead person either.

“Yeah,” Sonny urged. “I reckon y'all should, else no one will be at the wake. Spirits can't rest easy ‘til they get a proper send off into the hereafter. That's why me and my folks are giving him what we can.” He piously bowed his head. “He's all laid out in our parlor for folks to come pay their last respects, but you know, there's no one to mourn him, poor ol’ fellow. I reckon since y'all knew him, maybe y'all could come and mourn some. Just so we let him see that folks cared. If not, he might haunt us all till our dying day if he ain't respected and seen to.

“I just hope he don't run me off with a big spoon.” Shane laughed. “Or conjure up any ol’ willies on me!”

“Stop it, Shane. We're supposed to be mourning for him!” Sarah scolded. “You're not mourning respectable.” She was anxious to see the old man too, yet scared, as was Greta.

That evening they all met at the Slone's place to properly mourn for old rambling Tom and to get their first glimpse of a dead person. They stood close together as they neared the room.

Greta stopped suddenly. “I— I can't go in there! I'm too afraid, this is a read honest to goodness, dead person! I just can't go in there where it is either.”

“Well, either we all go or none of us will.” Sarah stood with Greta.

“Don't be afraid, Greta,” Shane assured her. “We'll let you walk between us, won't we, Sarah.”

“Sure,” Sarah agreed.

“Nothing can get to ya if you're in the middle of us.” Shane said. “We'll both protect you from either side.”

“Yeah,” Sarah agreed. “Come on, Greta. We all need to go in together. If you don't go we'll all be stopped and that just wouldn't be right. The old man's spirit will be glad we came. It will be just fine. Come on, get in between us.”

They held hands and crept into the parlor where the old gypsy lay in a freshly hewn pine box. They cautiously peered over the edge as the candlelight flickered and sent shadows playing over his gaunt face. Suddenly there came an image, draped in a white sheet, sailing down the upstairs banister and screeching to the top of its lungs. It howled worse than the wild, Tennessee valley winds.

Sarah, Greta and Shane tore from the room screaming to high heaven and somehow they all three got caught and tightly jammed in the doorway. They punched their elbows and dug their claws into each other. None of them would move back or give an inch as they screamed and pushed forward until they broke free. They went slamming onto the porch, then scrambled up and sailed from the house. Greta slipped and plopped down two steps and came to rest on the third where she lost total control of her bladder.

Sonny came out waving the sheet and laughing. “I got y'all good!” He laughed harder.

Shane stepped toward him. He looked at Sarah and Greta. “Looks like you girls are gonna see another dead body tonight.” Then he turned back to Sonny and yelled. “Sonny Slone, I'm gonna kill you!” Sonny quickly stopped laughing.

“I— I was just kidding!” He dropped the sheet and took off running with Shane tight on his heels.

The next day as they passed the bridge Sarah, Greta and Shane hurried their steps. The old man's fingers might come up through the planks and grab their feet, or so they thought. “We never did get to properly mourn him because of Sonny Slone!” Shane shook his head.

“Tad, are you almost ready?” John looked into the room where the child sat with her head down and her suitcase packed. She was wearing her best dress and bonnet with a spring coat to match. Her shiny, leather shoes were un-buttoned and dangling half on and half off her small feet.

“I ain't gots my shoes on, Mr. John,” she spoke in a raspy sort of soft voice.

“What's wrong with you, my little Tad?” John sat down on the bed and wrapped his arm around the child.

“I don't want to go! I want to stay here!” She burst out crying.

“Oh, is that it?” John knelt down in front of Tad. “You have no idea of the wonders that are waiting for you! You're getting a family. A whole brand new family to love you and care for you.” He wiped the tears from her face.

“I has a family, here with you!”

“I'm talking about a real family. A ma and a pa and a baby sister.”

“Who says I want a baby sister?” She stiffened her back.

“Baby sisters are mighty special, Tad.”

“They ain't!”

“I see you've never had one.” John grinned.

“No... Have you?” She asked.

A vision of Sarah filled John's mind. Her bright little face, her cheerful laugh and the way she looked at him with her trusting eyes. “Yes, I have. And she's one of the best people in my life.”

“How come you never see her then?”

“Who says I don't?”

“I been here a long while and never seen no sister of yours. I ain't even know you had one.”

“Well, I do. And the reason I never see her is because she lives far, far away from here.”

“Is it lots of fun having a baby sister?”

“Yeah, Tad... it's lots of fun. You won't miss being here at all when you get there and meet your new family.”

“I'll always miss it here.”

“Now, Tad... you got mighty attached to Mr. Fred's place after only two nights... but things got better for you as you moved on. Now, you're moving on again. Lord only knows what awaits you in your new place. But this time it's for keeps, no more moving ever again. You have a real home and a real family.” Tad smiled big.

“A home... That does sound good Mr. John.” Tad tried to smile through her tears. “I hope you're right about everything. I hope that they love me and want me. I hope they'll take care of me like you, Mr. Tyson and the other folks here did.”

“Have I ever lied to you? Just you wait and see.” There was a knock on the door. Tess, the maid, peeked in.

“Mr. Tyson is here for Tad,” she announced.

John smiled at the little girl. “You ready?”

“I guess so. All except for my shoes.” She smiled bravely as she poked her feet in the air.

John buttoned the shoes then walked Tad down to meet Mr. Tyson. Tad turned and hugged him tightly. “I'll never forget you, Mr. John. When I learn to write, can I write you?”

“You'd better!” He kissed her forehead then helped her into the buggy beside Mr. Tyson. He had a lump in his throat. He couldn't help worrying about her. It was spring and even though she had the full power of Mr. Tyson backing her, the trip into Canada wasn't without its dangers. He must believe that all would go well for her and that she would reach her new family safe and sound. He looked into her small, scared face then shut the door.

As the wheels slowly began to turn Tad's frantic cries suddenly tore through the night. She beat on the carriage screaming, “Mr. John! Mr. John! You supposed to take care of me... you are! You promised Mr. Frank and everything! Don't send me to Canada! Please, keep me! I won't never do nothing wrong... I'll be good!”

John ran after the carriage and tore the door open before the driver could even stop. She leapt into his waiting arms. He hugged her tightly. John looked at Mr. Tyson. “I'm sorry to put you to this much trouble, Sir. But she isn't going anywhere.”

“But that would not be right for her. She needs a family.”

“We'll all be her family. You'd like that, wouldn't you Tad?”

“Yeah... yeah I would.” She gasped her words as she wiped her face. “I didn't never have no family before y'all... but y'all feels like what I think family is. Ain't family the folks you has in your heart? Y'all is in mine.”

“Yes, Tad, you're right. And you are our family because you are in our hearts too.”

She smiled and threw her arms around John's neck. “I'll live here with y'all forever and ever!”

“Yes, you will... won't she, Mr. Tyson?”

“It appears so, my boy,” Mr. Tyson agreed with a bit of hesitation in his voice. “I just hope this is the best thing for her.”

“Love is always the best you can give anyone. She has plenty of that here, I promise you, Sir.”

“I see that.” Mr. Tyson smiled at them both. “Well, I suppose I'll get home to my wife and little ones now. Good night John, and good night to you too, little Tad.”

“Good night Mr. Tyson,” they both said as John closed the carriage door.

Mr. Tyson yelled to the driver and they watched him drive off into the night. Tad was home.

John went back to work leaving Tad in the tender care of the folks at the boarding house. He knew Mrs. Jenkins and Miss Ruby, along with Tess and Mr. Tyson, would all take good care of her. Sometimes Mr. Tyson took her out to his house in the country and let her spend a few days with his daughter. Caroline was bedridden, still weak from having had scarlet fever. Tad made a good playmate for her.

John's first trip was back into the belly of the whale, Alabama. He would see Fred and let him know that Tad and he had made it to safety. But when he got there, Fred didn't recognize him.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Do you recall a fellow by the name of Adams who stopped by here last fall with a little girl named Tad?”

“W— what?” His face went a bit pale. “Not really. Should I know them?”

“It's me, sir!” John smiled.

“Adams?” Fred looked closer into his face. “My lands... I thought I'd read in the papers that you were dead!”

“You don't believe everything you read, do you?” John's deep laugh rang out.

“My gracious, boy... Come on in this house! Come on and meet the missus.”

When they'd all said their hellos and sat down together Fred asked, “Now tell us how it is you've come back from the dead.”

“Well, it was a fake. They planted my information on a dead man. Had this guy to confirm that the body was mine, and presto, I'm a changed man! Things were getting too hot for poor ol’ Kyle down here, so to keep going with my work, the people who wanted to see me dead had to think that they'd won. That they'd gotten rid of me.”

“That's pure genius!” Mrs. Frank's eyes lit up. “Who would have ever thought it?”

“It isn't like it hasn't been done before... I'm just lucky it works every time.”

“How many times have you died, Adams?” Fred laughed heartily.

“It's Whitehead for now, sir. And I've only died once. But there's been others.”

“Like who?”

“For their safety, I can't say too much. I'll just say, there isn't as many of us gone as our enemies would like to think.”

“Well, this gives me renewed hope!” Mrs. Frank smiled. “I'll think twice before crying over another abolitionist's murder.”

“Yeah... She walked around the house for days moping over your demise, Mr. Whitehead.” Fred chuckled. “She was so put out because she had missed you when you came through here. Then to hear that you'd been lynched... Well, she bellowed for days.”

“All's well that ends well, huh, Mrs. Frank?” John looked at her and smiled.

“That's right! I'm so glad to finally meet you.” She smiled back.

“And how is the little girl?” Mr. Frank asked.

“She's doing wonderful. Learning more and more every day. She's sharp as a tack already reading and writing a good bit. We're just doing our best to give her a normal childhood. It's hard with things being like they are. She wanted me to be sure and thank you for everything you did for us.”

“I didn't do all that much.”

“Yes you did, sir. Don't ever downplay your role in this. We'd both have frozen to death that night if it hadn't been for you. I had to come back here and let you know that we made it and how grateful we are for folks like you and Mrs. Frank here.”

“I suppose it's time for me to get supper. You are staying aren't you, Mr. Adams... um, Mr. Whitehead or whoever you are?”

“Just call me John. Sorry to say, I can't stay for supper. I'll be leaving here pretty soon. I'm trying to make it down to the Gulf Coast.”

“I hate to see you run. We've barely gotten a chance to talk,” Mrs. Frank fussed. “Remember, I wasn't here when you came by the first time.”

“I'll stop by again someday for a longer visit. But for now, I really have to be going.” John stood and plopped his hat on his head. “Good to have met you, Mrs. Frank.”

“Likewise.” She smiled.

With that John was on the move again, changing his name at almost every stop. Mr. Whitehead, Mr. Scott, Mr. Smith... the list was never-ending. His old argument was still very effective, yet bitterly hated among the wealthy plantation owners. Hated or not, it was powerful and it was working. “Why would you want slavery? Do you own slaves? How does keeping slavery alive benefit you and your family? The answer is, it doesn't! The fact is, in the South, anyone who can pay a man for an honest day's work owns slaves! The only job out there for you, if you're lucky, is being an overseer. But, if we work together to end slavery, you could get a job and buy your family fine things. Live in a nice house... Get yourself a fancy carriage to ride around in... Buy food and warm clothing for your loved ones! The list goes on and on!” Cheers echoed all over the Southlands... The crowds gathered in front of Bandy's Mercantile in Georgia, at Rudy's barber shop in Mississippi, in Jake's Bar in South Carolina. All over the South, more and more people began standing against slavery. The poor chanted John's words: “How does slavery benefit us?”