Song Yet Sung (18 page)

—I couldn't hear no hammering where I was. I was out on the bay, running.

—Keep your traveling shoes on, then. They think you done it.

—Done what? Amber asked.

—You ain't heard?

—What you talking about?

—Your missus' firstborn been snatched.

—Jeff Boy? Snatched how?

—I don't know! They think you done it!

Liz watched as the meaning of the words dawned on Amber, his face slowly creasing into shock. He stepped away from the blacksmith, shaking his head as if trying to shake off snowflakes or a bad dream. His face twitched in several different directions before finally righting itself. He gathered himself and once again placed his back against the blacksmith so their shoulder blades touched.

—What happened? he said.

—They're fixing to drag Blackwater River for him this morning is all I know, the blacksmith said.

—Patty done it! Amber hissed. She's a devil.

—She's a slave stealer, the blacksmith said calmly. Child stealin' ain't her game. She ain't gonna steal no white child.

Amber swayed. His knees felt like they were going to buckle. Now he knew why the bungies were dragging so close to shore. And the colored watermen avoiding him when he pulled in—there was a reason for that. He was a marked man. A nigger under suspicion. With a posse, no doubt, heading to Miss Kathleen's to see him.

—Jeff Boy wouldn't wander into the Blackwater alone, he said. Blacksmith, I swear before blessed God, he's never done nothing like that his whole life.

—You got to git up the road, the blacksmith said.

—To where? Missus sent me to fetch the constable.

—Well, you ain't got to find him, the blacksmith said. He'll find you. They left this morning for the Neck round three, four o'clock. I reckon they're there now. You got to git up the highway.

He nodded at Liz without looking at her.

—And take whoever you got there with you.

—She ain't done nothing.

—I don't care! That door there ain't gonna bump you in the back five minutes 'fore they kick it in asking 'bout you. You was surely seen coming here by somebody. What was you thinking 'bout? Coming directly here? You know you ain't supposed to!

Amber folded his hands over his bowed face. He spoke through his fingers.

—That's some kind of welcome you gived to somebody who ain't so ordinary, he said defensively. That there's the Dreamer.

—Kind of trouble she's kicked around, I don't right care who she is, the blacksmith said.

—What is you saying? If you done quit working against the Trade, you shoulda let it be knowed before today.

Now it was the blacksmith's turn to try to control himself. His face seemed to reel itself in and out like a baited fishline tossed in and out of the water. He ran a hand across his face, which had begun to sweat. He sighed deeply. It took all his will not to glance over at the figure who sat huddled on the floor in the corner of the cold room. He raised a hand to his forehead, rubbed it, looked at the ceiling, then placed the back of his head against the back of Amber's head. Finally he spoke:

—You got yourself in a mess of trouble, Amber. I can't be party to it. I ain't seen this so-called Dreamer, so she's still safe. I can hold her for a day or so, then put her on the gospel train out of this country—maybe.

—She stays with me, Amber said.

Amber saw no sense in explaining to the blacksmith that the Dreamer wouldn't run—that he didn't want her to run; that if, in fact, she ran, he would run too. Or was it the Dreamer's power over him? Or was it his feelings? He could no longer tell. Then a thought came to him that nearly knocked him to his knees. He stared at Liz, breathless.

—By God, Blacksmith, he said. She called it out!

—Called out what?

—She said a child had gone missing. Two of 'em.

He looked at Liz.

—Is that the child you was speaking of?

The blacksmith waved a dismissive hand in the air.

—Amber, it hurts my heart to hear you talking with cotton in your tongue while your head's about to hit the chopping block. Unless that boy's found, you deader than Dick's donkey. You just property to the white man, but his flesh and blood means more to him than money. And you party to his child being missing, unless you can prove otherwise.

—Don't you see? Amber said. She called it out! Said a child was missing, and he is! Two of 'em! Who's the other? he asked Liz.

—Stop talking crazy! the blacksmith snapped. You got to turn yourself in, or they'll shake every colored upside down from here to Delaware till they find you! They bound to break the code. They half know it already. The Gimp's about, you know. He came round here two days past, asking for her.

Amber's eyes widened in alarm.

—I thought the Gimp gived up chasing the colored. Gone fishing, they said.

—You spurred that horse wrong too. He's ain't fishing. He's about.

Liz watched Amber move his hand away from his face, saw his shoulders sag, watched the fight leave him.

—All right, then, Amber said. I'll leave out. I'll go home. You send her on the train, would you, Blacksmith?

—I'm not going anyplace, Liz said.

It was the first thing she said in the room. The defiance in her voice made the blacksmith smirk.

—Don't she know to be quiet in here? the blacksmith said.

Amber looked at Liz sheepishly.

—I'm sorry, Liz, he said, but you can't talk right now.

—Who is he to speak to me like a child? Liz sneered.

Amber cringed in embarrassement.

—Liz, this ain't the time to raise the devil. It ain't possible for you to stay with me. I'm in hot water now. I got Wiley and my sister to think of. And I owes it to Jeff Boy to go back so I can at least help find his body, if he's dead. They can do what they want 'bout me. But Blacksmith here, he done gived his life to the colored. You responsible to him too. And his wife and children. If he gets exposed, they naked as my hand to trouble. Don't you see what he's offering?

—That ain't no cause to give yourself up to what he's selling, Liz said firmly.

The blacksmith frowned, his eyes on the wall, then turned his head towards the ceiling as he spoke softly.

—You stoking trouble for this young man here, he said grimly. There's four or five coloreds in this town right now who'll be happy to run metal right through him on account of him giving you the code. Just about everybody you come across round here's been hurt 'cause of you.

—I done no wrong to nobody round here, Liz said.

The blacksmith's face clouded and he blew out his cheeks. Hell you ain't, he retorted. Telling yarns and stories. Got folks all stoked up. Big Linus is dead, you know. They found him in Sitchmas Creek with near most his head blowed off. They got Sarah and Louie Hughes in the jailhouse on suspicion of helping him. That's five years in jail plus the cost of Big Linus to whoever owned him. How's them apples? You ain't curried nothing but trouble.

Liz, sitting in a ball with her hands around her knees, felt anger rising into her ears.

—Blacksmith, you growed short in a small period of time, she said between her teeth. Much as I heard about you. About how big you was.

The blacksmith turned his head so that it was close to Amber's ear. Tell her don't talk to me no more, he said.

—I'll talk all I want, Liz said.

The blacksmith's face tightened in anger. He moved away from Amber, spun, and glared at Liz for the first time, code be damned. He was surprised at her beauty, her softness of feature, and the steel-like sternness that shone behind the brown eyes, which glared brightly at him.

—You got nerve singing your own song that way, he hissed, as much rotten business you done caused—

—Blacksmith, please! Amber interrupted, still staring at the ceiling, the whole thing gone awry now. Finally he threw his eyes off the ceiling and faced the blacksmith: he knew who he was anyway, for most of the coloreds of Dorchester County were at least familiar with the black tradesmen. But Amber had never actually met him, for his routes and paths in town were limited. He was surprised to see a man who looked far more genteel and settled than his voice connoted. The blacksmith could have been a preacher, he thought.

Yet the Lord's peace was not in the blacksmith's face. He was furious and glared at Liz, who returned his stare.

Sarah Hughes got a ten-year-old boy, the blacksmith said. They gonna sell him first. How's that sour bread, Dreamer? Her husband, Louie, too. Louie wouldn't know the code from a horse's ass. That fool can't even button his pants hisself. He's sadder'n a steer in a slaughterhouse. The whole family, busted apart, gone to the four winds. Because of your goddamned witchery!

—Why you throwing dirt in my face? Liz asked. I done nothing to them! I don't even know them!

—You sprung Big Linus! He's the one that pulled Sarah out in the open.

—He sprung hisself! Liz said.

—I known Big Linus all his life, the blacksmith said. He couldn't lick candy off the floor by hisself!

—The old woman told him to help us bust out.

The blacksmith paused, surprise etched in his face. What old woman?

—She had no name.

—What you mean?

Liz looked at Amber.

—Didn't you tell him? she said.

—I didn't tell him nothing, Amber said. Truth be told, this is the first time I ever actually…ever actually spoke to him.

—
What?
Liz said, stunned. I thought you all knew each other.

—Stop talking like white folks! Amber said sharply. You think every colored knows one another? We don't know each other from Adam. We just know the code.

—Why'd you come here, then? Liz asked.

—I come to him 'cause I had no place else to go. I come to him for you!

Liz felt as if someone had tossed a dipper of water in her face. Seeing the blacksmith glaring at her angrily, she pursed her lips and bit back tears of frustration.

—I met the Woman with No Name in Patty's house, Liz said. She said every truth she had been told was lies. Every lie she was told was truth. She said the coach wrench turns the wagon wheel. Said chance is God's instrument. She said to use double wedding rings and sing the song of the second part. And to find you. She sung that tune to every soul in there. Sing the song of the second part, she said.

The blacksmith stared down at the floor, his face troubled.

—Whyn't you tell me that first? he said.

—You flew hot as the Devil and wasn't asking, Liz said.

The blacksmith stood for a long minute, staring at the floor, obviously trying to decide something. Finally he stepped away from Amber and strode to a far corner of the room. He slid a large tool cabinet away from a wall and proceeded to brush away piles of dirt and leaves from the dirt floor beneath it. Beneath it were two giant iron rings. He nodded at the rings: Double wedding rings, he said.

The rings were connected to a wooden trapdoor. He lifted the door, walked back to the center of the room, and stood with his back to Amber again. His decorum was back.

—All right, then, he said. We stick to the code. Amber, tell the Dreamer there's food and water down there enough for three days. A waste bucket and some candles. Tell her Old Clarence from the general store and his wife, they'll check on her in a day or two if something happens to me. They're the only ones round here who know about it. I'm sorry for the insult to her person. You g'wan back home and face the music.

—Blacksmith, Amber said, maybe I ought to run.

—Just be calm and sit tight for a day or two. The Woman with No Name weren't never wrong. Ain't no reason not to trust her word now. If you done nothing wrong, your missus'll believe you. Miss Kathleen's a fair woman. You get that straightened out, and I'll hold the Dreamer. But I cut her loose in two days. Put her on the gospel train, if she'll go.

—Two days! I can't get my rags together in two days, Amber said.

—That's the best I can do.

—I already said I'm not going on the train, Liz said.

—You'll go, the blacksmith said dryly. 'Cause if you don't, his life ain't worth a penny or the wedge it's hid in. There's four or five colored right now ready to blow out his spark for bringing you into the code. Code's more important than you. Than him. Than anybody. You got to die or get out this country. One way or the other, we'll help you out.

Liz stared at Amber intently as he made ready to leave.

—She ain't gonna need help leaving here, he said. I'll be back in two days.

He stepped towards the door, stopped, and leaned down to kiss Liz, who sat on the floor, but she turned her face away. He placed a hand on her face, and as he did she felt the energy from his hand flow into her face and felt an awful premonition, and lifted her face to him. She grabbed his hand and kissed it, her tears wetting his empty palm.