My Name's Not Friday (18 page)

He’s become friendlier with Lizzie and also with the rest of the slaves. I think he sees he ain’t resented and so he’s become more confident and he speaks to people more than he ever did before he was whipped. It feels like he has become the same as everyone else here, although the truth of it is that aside from a large cabin, a good pair of boots and a shiny bright lamp, he always was.

One night in the cabin he takes his mother’s book from the box on the shelf and stands holding it, not doing anything but look at it. I’m sat at the table near him and I don’t know what he’s thinking. Eventually he holds the book out to me. ‘Would you teach me to read this?’

I open it up and read a few lines to myself. ‘Sure. I can teach you to read, but you can’t start with this. It’s too difficult. You gotta start with the easy books first. That’s the only way to learn.’

‘You mean I gotta go in with the kids?’

‘Do you want to come to class?’ I don’t know what I think about that. All of us have spent so long hiding from him that it don’t feel right to invite him along without everyone’s say-so. Hubbard nods. He says he’d like to, and I give it some more thought. ‘Most of the kids are on more advanced reading now, but Levi ain’t a kid and he’s only recently begun. Sicely too. I could teach you with them.’

‘Is Sicely coming to class now?’ Hubbard sounds surprised. ‘I didn’t think she would.’

I smile at that. ‘She’s learned the error of her ways.’ That’s all I say.

Hubbard stands there like some big ol’ lump of wood, not knowing what to do with himself, realizing he’ll be just about the last person on the plantation to learn how to read,
’cept maybe for Winnie, who still says she’s far too old for stuff and nonsense like that. ‘If you prefer, I could teach you here. We could do half an hour last thing at night. It wouldn’t be no bother.’

But Hubbard shakes his head. ‘No. Thank you for the offer, but I’ll come to class.’

He is as good as his word.

When I bring him into Lizzie’s cabin and sit him down in the group, the room is quieter than usual. I can see everyone sneaking a look at him while they get on with their work. I give him the primer, then sit down with him as he tries to read. He makes the same mistakes as all of us do who’ve never read a word before.

THE DOG RAN.

Hubbard has to start at the same place we all did and he smiles like a child the first time he gets it right. When little Gil begins to giggle, Lizzie clips his ear and we all think she done right.

After the lesson, when we return to our cabin, Hubbard is quiet and he looks tired to me. ‘I thought you done good,’ I tell him. When he doesn’t answer I tell him, ‘There’s no shame in not knowing something. The only time you should feel ashamed is if you never let yourself learn new things.’

That was something that Miss Priestly used to say, back at the orphanage, and I am proud to have remembered it.

‘I know that already,’ he snaps back at me. ‘You might know how to read, Friday, but that don’t make you God’s gift. Do you understand? I seen a lot of things and I know stuff, so let me tell you this – you need to live a lot longer than you have before you start preaching to me in my own home.’

Now, Hubbard is a man of very few words, and if I have
provoked him to say as long a sentence as this then I know that he’s annoyed.

‘I apologize.’

He looks all sheepish. ‘Well, that’s all right.’

‘And I’m sorry for being a smartass.’

‘Just so long as you don’t do it again.’

‘Absolutely. Sometimes I’m just too clever for my own good.’

He could see the smile behind my eyes and he softened. ‘If you need to practise being a little dumber, then this is the place to do it.’

‘Thank you,’ I tell him. ‘I am reassured.’

April brings us warmer weather and the talk of war.

I follow the plough, pulled by the nag that Hubbard leads across the field. He’s the only one of us big enough to drag that old horse in a straight line. Peighton came for our last good horse while we were planting corn. He came right out into the field, unstrapped the beast himself and apologized to the missus for taking it. Said she’d be among the first to be compensated once the war is done, and we look on that dimly as a new mark of respect.

Right now we’re planting cotton. Gil walks in front of me and he bends and sows, bends and sows, planting seed in the little gullies which the rest of us cover using hoes.

‘Hey, Friday! You missed a bit a back here.’

I turn to see the missus, standing like a scarecrow in her black dress, a hoe in her hand and baby Virginia riding on her hip.

I hurry back along the furrowed line. ‘Sorry ’bout that.’

‘Don’t wanna leave it for the birds,’ she tells me.

‘I know, miss. I was going too fast. I should slow down a bit.’

‘Whatever you do, don’t do that, Friday.’ Mrs Allen
moves a strand of hair from the front of her face. ‘You’re the only one around here still willing to work hard.’

I shrug weakly. Ahead of us, Hubbard pulls the horse to a halt and the whole caravan comes to a stop, making Mrs Allen’s face pinch up in agitation. ‘For goodness’ sake, what’s wrong now? And where’s Gerald and the others? They should have had the cart here by now.’

‘I don’t know, ma’am. Do you want me to take a look?’

She hands the baby to me. ‘You may as well. Take Virginia back to the house and give her to Sicely, would you?’

We walk in opposite directions across the half-ploughed field and I take the track that leads back up to the house and come across our cart lying crippled by the roadside, with Levi, George and Lizzie all stood looking at it.

‘What happened?’

‘Wheel come off,’ said George, but I can see that for myself. ‘Pin broke.’ He has the bits in his hand and he shows me. I have the feeling that it weren’t an accident, cos it seems to me that almost every day something goes wrong that takes an eternity to put right.

‘There’s spares back at the barn,’ I tell him.

‘Sure. Could be.’

So we all stand there looking at the cart.

‘I’ll bring one back with me.’ I leave ’em to it and go on up the track, holding Virginia’s hand while she tries to walk for herself. A hundred yards on and Gerald hurries towards me from the direction of the house. ‘Why’s the cart not in the field? They came for it an hour ago.’

‘The wheel’s come off.’

He shakes his head and is about to hurry on, but then says, ‘Friday? Will you meet me at the river?’

I know we won’t be swimming. Everything’s changed
between us these last few months, but I agree to go. I return with the pin just as George and Levi are lifting the cart from the ground, their backs wedged beneath it and their legs bent and straining.

‘If we hadn’t rented Kofi out, we’d still have a blacksmith.’ Lizzie reminds Gerald as he edges the wheel into place on the axle.

‘We can manage,’ he says.

I give him the pin and a hammer from the barn and then step back. ‘See what we can do if we all work together?’ Gerald announces once the wheel is on, and we all take hold of the cart and start back up to the field.

Gerald’s waiting by the riverbank when I get there. He looks different from the last time we were here. He’s taken to slicking his hair back with grease and although I already knew that, seeing him here makes it more obvious and I take a moment to look at him properly. He seems taller than he used to be and I tell him so. ‘When did you get to be so tall?’ I reckon he must have had that growth spurt while I weren’t looking.

‘I been getting taller for ages. You just haven’t noticed.’

‘Maybe.’ I look around us. ‘It’s been a while since we came here.’

‘I’m sorry that I stopped your lessons, Friday.’

‘That’s all right.’

‘No, it isn’t. I’ve let you down and I apologize.’ He hesitates. ‘It was you who wrote Hubbard’s note, wasn’t it? I’ve thought about it often and I don’t reckon it could’ve been anyone else.’

‘Is that why you stopped teaching me?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t think you’d use it to cheat on us.’

‘It weren’t like that. His wife was ill.’

Gerald nods. ‘I thought it’d be something like that. Mother reckoned it must have been me who wrote it. She knows I’ve always had a soft spot for Hubbard.’

‘So you didn’t tell her it was me?’ Gerald shakes his head. ‘Did she punish you?’ Gerald shrugs. ‘And is that why you wanted to meet me?’

‘No. It ain’t that at all. I was just saying.’ I wait for him to tell me why we’re here and he puts his hands behind his back before he begins. I guess it makes him feel more comfortable. ‘I want to know why the others won’t work for me. You’re the only one who wants to work, Friday. You, and perhaps Hubbard. I feel like I’m pushing a cart up a hill all by myself. If we keep going the way we are, I doubt we’ll have a harvest to sell in the fall.’

‘We can’t sell it anyway.’

‘You don’t know that. The war won’t last for ever.’

‘That’s true. But if the Yankees get here we’ll see some changes.’

‘They won’t get here.’ Gerald hardens his jaw. ‘They can’t. The Feds’ll stop ’em. I know they will.’

He sounds so desperate that I feel sorry for him. ‘Everyone says you can’t win the war, Gerald. That’s what we all been hearing. Once the Yankee lines come past us, it’ll be Lincoln in charge and Yankee laws.’ I hesitate to say it but I do. ‘We’ll all be free, Gerald. That’s why they won’t work for you. They can already smell their freedom.’

That’s too much for him to hear. ‘I won’t let the Yankees anywhere near this place! Do you hear me? I won’t let ’em
take what we’ve worked hard for.’

We stare at each other and we button our lips, scared of what we might say next. I don’t see how we can talk of this, and I look out along the slow brown river, wondering how it would be to just float away to freedom. I pick up a stone and toss it in the water. ‘They got boats on their way up here, Gerald. They got boats with guns all over ’em, all covered in shining armour so they can’t be sunk. They’ll be here soon.’

‘Is that true?’ Gerald suddenly don’t seem so grown-up at all. ‘I mean about the armour?’

‘I reckon it is.’

‘Then that’d mean my daddy died for nothing.’

I stare at my feet, feeling there’s a mile between us, but then he reaches out and touches the top of my arm so tenderly that I remember how we were friends. ‘How come
you
still want to work hard for me, Friday? Why don’t you follow everyone else?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You’ve never been like the others. They might be up to no good but you’ve always been special. That’s why I taught you to read. I always knew you’d be able to do it.’

Soon as he says it, I feel the weight of all those lies and it’s just too much. I can’t do it any more. I can’t keep lying to him. ‘You didn’t teach me to read, Gerald. I already knew how. I’ve known how to read since I was a little boy.’

Gerald looks at me like he doesn’t understand what I’ve said to him. ‘But why … ?’ His mouth is open, waiting for his brain to catch up and feed him something to say. ‘Why would you pretend you couldn’t read?’

‘Because I needed you to bring me the books. I’ve been teaching the others to read and write. I’ve been teaching all of
’em. It ain’t just me who can read, Gerald. It’s all of us. Every slave you own except for Winnie. Do you understand?’

‘So you been lying to me all along?’

I hang my head in shame. When he puts it like that it makes it sound much worse than it seemed at the time. I try to put it another way, try to make him understand that I did it for a reason. ‘I did what your daddy would have wanted, Gerald. I did it and it worked. You don’t own a single slave who can’t say his alphabet and there ain’t no one on this plantation that couldn’t sign his name to a contract of work if you gave him one. I did what I had to do, Gerald. God told me to do it and I did. I did what was right.’

I expect him to be angry, expect him to shout at me, even hit me in the face.

‘All that time you were lying to me,’ he says quietly.

And then he walks away.

When I return to the cabins, Mrs Allen is standing knocking at our door and Peighton is waiting over by the fire pit with two of his men, both of ’em holding chains with shackles that hang open like the mouths of thirsty dogs. He shouts over to the missus. ‘Mrs Allen, do you mind if my men take a look around?’

The missus nods and the men drop their chains on the ground and go towards the doors of the other cabins. Hubbard opens our door and Lizzie comes outside and watches what’s going on.

I step up onto our porch. Mrs Allen has rolled the sleeves of her black cotton dress up to her elbows and she folds her
arms and stands there looking at Hubbard. ‘Mr Peighton has brought me news of your wife and child.’

‘What news is that?’ Hubbard looks alarmed and searches her face for clues. ‘Are they both OK?’

‘They’ve fled the Hope plantation. Been gone two days now and no one’s seen ’em or can say where they are.’ She watches him closely. ‘Hubbard, can you tell me where they are?’

Hubbard shakes his head. ‘I don’t know, ma’am.’ He wipes the back of his hand across his brow. ‘I hope they’re all right though. Where do you think they might have gone?’

Peighton steps up onto our porch and leans against a post. ‘We thought they might have come here.’

‘Why would they come here?’ Hubbard shakes his head again. ‘They ain’t stupid, Mr Peighton. It’s the first place you’d look for ’em. I expect they’ve gone as far away from here as they could.’

Peighton comes in closer, leaning against the frame of the door so he’s next to Hubbard. ‘Tell me what you know about it. Either you know where they are or you don’t.’

Hubbard ignores him. He only speaks to the missus. ‘This is the first I heard, ma’am. The very first.’

He’s twisting the fingers of his hands together and I can see he’s anxious.

I try to interrupt. ‘He’d have told me if he knew, ma’am. But he ain’t said nothing to me.’

But Mrs Allen don’t pay me no heed. She says, ‘You wouldn’t tell me if you knew, would you, Hubbard? That’s the problem I have. Do you see? I don’t think I can trust you to tell me what you know.’

‘How could I know, ma’am? We ain’t allowed to leave the
plantation and we don’t get to speak to anyone. We’ve been in the dark about things for a good while now.’

Mrs Allen walks across to stand by Peighton. ‘Mr Peighton believes you ain’t the kind of man who lets their wife and child go off alone, and I’m inclined to agree with him.’

‘He’ll be gone, Mrs Allen.’ Peighton smiles with satisfaction. ‘You take my word for it. With the Yankee lines this close, he’ll make a run for it soon as he gets the chance.’ He walks off the porch, calling back to the missus over his shoulder. ‘Soon as you turn your back, this one here’ll be gone.’ He lifts the fetters out of the dirt. ‘I’d sooner chain him now than let him leave you in the lurch like that.’

Mrs Allen sucks at her bottom lip like she still ain’t sure. ‘Will they slow his work?’

Peighton shrugs and ambles back towards the porch. ‘They’ll restrict him for sure, but he can still work. The length of the chain will let him walk OK, but he couldn’t run.’

Lizzie comes up close to the porch so she’s near the shoulder of the missus. ‘We ain’t never had no one chained here, ma’am,’ she tells her quietly. ‘It ain’t the kind of thing the master would allow.’

Mrs Allen nods. ‘I know that, Lizzie, but it seems I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.’

‘Do you really want to take the risk?’ Peighton holds up the length of chain and I feel the panic rise from my stomach to my throat as he reaches the porch steps. ‘It’s a short-term measure, Mrs Allen. It won’t be for ever. And it’ll protect your investment till we find his wife.’

Seeing those chains up close makes the dread slither through my stomach like a snake, but Hubbard don’t look alarmed and I find that strange, what with him being such a proud man and everything.

‘Sit on the step,’ Mrs Allen tells him.

Hubbard comes to the top step slowly, but he sits himself down without protest.

‘Take off your boots.’

Hubbard places his big old boots, heels together, on the step beside him and lets his feet rest in the dirt. Peighton drops the chains at the side of the porch, then kneels and opens up a gate on the set of leg irons.

‘Let me do it.’ Mrs Allen crouches beside Peighton, who stands back to give her room. ‘Put your foot up here so I can see what I’m doing.’ Mrs Allen reaches down and takes hold of Hubbard’s heel, then lifts his foot so it rests in her lap. She takes the shackle and eases it around the back of his ankle, taking care to check that his skin won’t get caught before she closes the gate. ‘It’s pretty tight.’ She checks with Peighton. ‘Is that all right?’

‘Please, miss,’ I say, ‘I’m sure it ain’t necessary. I’ll keep an eye on him if you want me too. You can trust me, miss. I’ll even vouch for him myself.’

Peighton takes a padlock from the pocket of his trousers and hands it over. ‘They don’t make ’em to size, but he’ll get used to it.’

Mrs Allen puts the padlock in place and locks the gate, putting the key in the pocket of her dress, then she takes Hubbard’s other leg and does the same again. ‘Stand up,’ she tells him when she has finished. ‘Take a walk to the fire and back, so I can see.’

Hubbard stands and steps away from the porch. He walks over to the fire and the chains sweep the dirt between his feet, making his stride half its usual length, so it looks like he stutters when he walks. He seems like a smaller man. We all can see it.

Peighton lifts the second set of chains so they dangle at his side. ‘You want me to do his hands as well?’

But Mrs Allen shakes her head. ‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’

‘It’s up to you. I’ll leave them up at the house so you can use them if you need to.’