Leapholes (2006) (26 page)

"But how does it work?"

"I don't know, exactly. I've spoken to physicists, some very intelligent scientists. Time travel is possible, but you must create negative mass."

"You mean weightlessness, like when the astronauts float inside their space shuttle?"

"Below weightlessness. Negative mass, meaning less than zero."

"How is that possible?"

"That's beyond me, Ryan. But I'm told that sometimes when two pieces of metal are close together, negative mass can be achieved in the space between them."

Ryan thought for a moment, considering the implications for leapholes. "So the two shackles, the two rings of metal around the ankle of your ancestor, that created negative mass?"

Hezekiah shrugged. "Perhaps. But that still doesn't account for the energy that is necessary to launch time travel. Scientists tell me that it would take every bit of energy our sun could produce, and then some, just to make one trip."

"Where could that much energy come from?"

"The human spirit, maybe. The desire to be free. I don't know of anything more powerful than that."

Ryan considered it. Coming from anyone but Hezekiah, it might have sounded corny. But how else could leapholes be explained?

Hezekiah was on his feet again. "See that," he said. "Just talking about it has me energized and feeling better."

Ryan was not entirely convinced by his sudden recovery, but he knew that it was pointless to argue.

"Come on," said Hezekiah. "Let's have a look at that campsite."

They continued up the final hill. As they neared the top, Ryan heard something that sounded like static from a television set. He knew that was impossible. Even if television had existed in 1857, what would it be doing in the middle of nowhere? Still, the higher they climbed, the louder the static hiss. Finally, they reached the hill crest, and immediately they saw the source of the strange noise.

"Look," said Hezekiah, pointing.

Ryan looked straight west, toward the wide body of noisy, rushing water, glistening in the moonlight. "That's quite a river," said Ryan.

"That's not just a river. That's the river, as in the Mississippi. Do you know what that means?"

"We're east of the Mississippi."

"Yes, exactly. And that road we crossed on the way over here had to be the St. Louis-Vincennes Trace."

"The what?"

"The St. Louis-Vincennes Trace was a major transportation route in the nineteenth century. It ran from Vincennes, Indiana to St. Louis Missouri. Do you understand what I'm saying, Ryan? It cut across southern Illinois."

A smile came to his lips. "Kaylee's leaphole whirled us east of St. Louis. We landed in a free state."

"You got it, buddy."

"That's . . . that's awesome. Hannah's baby was born in a free state. L'new was born free!"

"Never underestimate the power of leapholes," said Hezekia
!"

Ryan was about to shout with excitement, but Hezekiah quickly covered the boy's mouth with his hand. The old man's eyes filled with concern as he whispered, "Look down."

Ryan's gaze shifted from the river in the middle distance to the base of the hill directly below them. They had found the campsite on the bank of the river. Through the tree branches, Ryan counted eight men seated around the glowing campfire.

"It's the posse," Hezekiah whispered. "Come on. Follow me."

Slowly and very quietly they descended the hill for a closer look. A twig or two snapped beneath Ryan's step, but steady noise from the flowing river water was more than enough to drown out the sound. They hid behind a stack of gray boulders at the bottom of the hill.

Hezekiah whispered, "Look at the man third from the right. The one with the beard."

Ryan peered out over the top of the boulder. He and Hezekiah were hidden in darkness, but the men were plainly visible in the light of the campfire. Ryan's gaze locked onto that third man from the right, and shivers went down his spine. He recognized that long, gnarled beard and that broad felt hat. But the eyes were the clincher. Ryan had seen those eyes before, when that slave owner in Missouri had let his slaves in the cotton field drink from the mule's water bucket. Ryan would never forget those black, shark-like eyes.

"That's old man Barrow."

"You bet it is," said Hezekiah. "He's come to get me."

"But how could he find us? We spun clear out of Missouri with Kaylee's leaphole."

"I told you before. He's evil--with a capital E."

This time, there was no misunderstanding Hezekiah's implication. "Legal Evil," said Ryan. "Is this the place you told me about, where the brood follows the dam?"

"No," said Hezekiah, "but we're getting close. Let's go. We have to get back and warn Hannah."

"Are you going to be okay walking all that way?"

Hezekiah chuckled lightly, then pointed with a nod toward the team of horses hitched to a tree by the river. "Who said anything about walking?"

The old man had a sudden burst of energy, and Ryan hurried to catch up. They kept low to the ground and approached the horses slowly, careful not to startle them. A big weeping willow tree stood between the horses and the campsite, which only made their job easier.

"Should we turn them all loose?" whispered Ryan.

"No, no. The men will come after us with guns blazing. We'll just take one."

Hezekiah quickly untied the reins from the tree. He chose one, then reconsidered. He took the biggest, fastest-looking horse in the pack. Standing a good fifteen hands in height, its gorgeous black coat shone in the moonlight. Hezekiah stroked its powerful neck, and the horse let out a soft, throaty neigh.

"I think he likes me," said Hezekiah. He retied the other horses to the tree and led the big one away from the camp, along the riverbank. When they were a safe distance away from the posse, Hezekiah stopped.

"Isn't this stealing?" said Ryan.

"If Old Man Barrow can whip me like an animal and think nothing of it, God will surely forgive me for taking one of his horses. Now help me up."

The horse had no saddle, but riding bare back was preferable to the long walk home. Ryan gave the old man a shove, and Hezekiah was up quickly. He offered Ryan a hand and pulled the boy up behind him. With a gentle kick, Hezekiah brought the horse to a light trot. Ryan held on to him, but after a few minutes of riding, it felt more like he was holding up Hezekiah. Back at the river he had momentarily seemed like his old self. Clearly, that had been nothing but adrenalin. The sudden surge of strength had since passed, and Hezekiah was again slipping into his weakened state.

Ryan retreated into thought as they started back across the prairie toward the sod house. All he could think about was the posse, old man Barrow, and the determination of Legal Evil. It genuinely scared him.

He wondered if Hezekiah was up for the fight.

Chapter
32

On the back of a lively thoroughbred, the ride back to the sod house took hardly any time at all. Ryan and Hezekiah dismounted and came through the front door to find Hannah's baby asleep in the young mother's arms. Ryan spoke softly, so as not to wake the infant, but the news was too good for Hannah to remain quiet.

"Illinois! We're in Illinois!" That was all she could say for about thirty seconds, grinning east to west. Miraculously, Baby L'new slept right through the excitement.

"Are you sure?" asked Abigail.

"No doubt in my mind," said Hezekiah. "We're east of the Mississippi River and just a couple miles south of the St. Louis
-
Vincennes Trace."

"Praise be," said Abigail. "Now that I know where we are, I can line up my contacts on the underground railroad. I can get you, Hannah, and her baby as far as Chicago, if need be."

"That might well be necessary," said Hezekiah.

Hannah looked confused. "Why do we have to go anywhere? Illinois is a free state. We's free, right?"

Hezekiah spoke gently, trying not to scare her. "Ryan and I spotted a posse on the Illinois side of the river. Slave catchers don't stop at borders, Hannah. It's best if we get as far away from Old Man Barrow's farm as we can."

"Is he coming for us?" she said, her eyes widening with fear. She held her sleeping baby close and added, "He can't come for my baby, can he?"

Hezekiah didn't answer directly. "Like I said, it's best to keep moving. If they catch us, they can take us back to slavery. That's the law."

"But not my baby, right? Little L'new was born right here in Illinois. He's born into freedom, right? He's no one's slave. No one can take him. Nu-uh, no way. Not this precious little boy." She rocked him in her arms, filling his tiny ear with a mother's loving whispers.

Hezekiah watched her, saying nothing. From the look on the old man's face, Ryan knew there was something Hezekiah couldn't bring himself to tell her.

"Where's Jarvis?" asked Hezekiah.

Abigail said, "He's been gone quite awhile now. Left right after you did. Said he was gonna try and find us some water."

Suddenly, they heard shouting outside. Ryan opened the door and saw Jarvis running toward the sod house, shouting, "Hezekiah! Hezekiah!"

Jarvis hurried inside and slammed the door shut. He was breathing heavily, on the verge of hyperventilation. He was trying to say something but couldn't.

"What is it?" demanded Abigail.

"The . . . posse." It was all he could manage to say.

"What about the posse?" said Ryan.

He struggled to catch his breath, then finally blurted out the rest. "They're coming!"

Hezekiah opened the door, and Ryan was right behind him. It was impossible to see across the prairie in the darkness, so

Hezekiah dropped to his knees and put his ear to the ground. Ryan did likewise, and the sound terrified him. It was very faint, more like a vibration than a noise. But it confirmed their fears: Horses were coming.

"How far away are they?" asked Hezekiah.

"Three, four minutes, tops," said Jarvis. His breathing was finally under control. "I spotted them when I was up by the stream. Ran here as fast as I could."

"Good thing you did," said Abigial. "What do we do now?"

Tears were streaming down Hannah's face. "We can't let them have my baby."

A pained expression came over Hezekiah's face. "There may be no way around that."

"No, don't you say that. Don't you dare say that. My baby is free." Hannah rose from her bedroll on the floor and handed Abigail her child. "You take him to Chicago. This posse, it can take me and Hezekiah, but I won't let them have my child."

"I can't take your baby," said Abigail.

"Yes, you take him. I don't want him growing up to be no slave. He's free."

Abigail tried to back away, but Hannah pushed her baby into the abolitionist's arms. "Go on, take him, please!"

Reluctantly, Abigail took the child. The moment she did, Hannah fell to her knees and sobbed uncontrollably, as if a part of her had just died. It was almost too agonizing for Ryan to watch. It wasn't easy to comprehend a mother's decision to give up a child she loved more than anything in the world. But Ryan had seen those recaptured slaves paraded down Main Street. He'd seen them drink from the mule's water bucket. He'd run from the plantation with Hannah and Hezekiah. He'd seen the marks of a bullwhip across Hezekiah's back. Because of all that, he understood how unselfish Hannah was being.

Hezekiah took the infant from Abigail and placed him back in his mother's arms. "Giving your baby away won't solve anything, Hannah."

"'Course it will," she said. "It's all I can do for my son."

"You just don't fully understand the situation," said Hezekiah.

Ryan stepped into the doorway and listened to the night. The horses were still in the distance, but he no longer needed to put his ear to the ground to discern their thundering hooves. The rumble was in the air.

Ryan asked, "If there's something you need to say, Hezekiah, go on and say it. I think Hannah has a right to know."

The old lawyer closed his eyes. Clearly, he was about to utter something unspeakable. It seemed to take every ounce of his strength, but finally the words came. "We've found the place. This is where the brood follows the dam."

Ryan felt chills down his spine.

Abigail said, "Now what on God's green earth are you talking about?"

Hezekiah said, "It's the law of the land as laid down by the United States Supreme Court. The brood follows the dam. It means that if the mother is a slave, it doesn't matter if her child is born in a free state. The 'brood' is the child. It follows the 'dam,' which is the mother. If the mother is a slave, the child is born a slave. It doesn't matter where the child is born."

"So, even if my baby was born in Illinois, he's still. . ."

"A slave," said Hezekiah. He shook his head in disgust, then glanced at Ryan. "This is where Legal Evil lives."

Hannah was stunned into silence, no tears left to cry. But there was no time to console her. Everyone in the room could hear the unmistakable pounding in the distance, the drum of galloping horses on the prairie. The posse was closing in. All eyes turned to Hezekiah, their last hope.