Storm Clouds Rolling In (33 page)

“What did I tell you, gentleman?
There are no whip marks on this one. He has never given his master any trouble.”

“Let’s see him move!”
Bob needed little prodding from the auctioneer. It was obvious he had been on the block before. His face set with helpless agony, he began to jump around the stage, bending up and down to show his flexibility. The assistant, holding the whip and watching his actions closely, did not even have to move.

“Alright, gentlemen,” the auctioneer yelled, “I have made my point
. Who will continue the bidding?” His gavel pounded when the bidding topped out at eleven hundred dollars. “Sold! To Mr. Josiah Compton.”

Carrie stared in horror as the slave they called Bob put
his shirt back on and stepped down from the block. He made no protest as he was led from the building.

“Now, gentlemen, we have a fine family here for you
.”

Carrie swung her attention back to the front, repulsed yet fascinated by the drama
playing out before her eyes. She wanted to run from the building, but a power stronger than her seemed to be holding her there, forcing her to see. Forcing her to understand.

The auctioneer knew he had his work cut out for him.
“Now gentlemen, hear me out on this one. This family’s owner has fallen on hard times. That’s the only reason he would let go of this fine collection...”

Carrie felt her stomach turn.
They were being discussed as if they were no more than animals!

“I promised the man I would do my best to keep this family together.
That’s why they’re all up here. Jessie here is a fine butler. His wife, Hannah, is a great little cook. Their children are still young— just two, four and six. The oldest is already helping in the house. They are all highly intelligent, gentlemen. They’ve never given a bit of trouble to their master.” The auctioneer peered around at the crowd. “Who will start the bidding at four thousand dollars?”

Disbelieving laughter erupted from all over the room.

“Thirty-eight hundred?”

“Who you kidding?” someone yelled mockingly.

The auctioneer plowed on.
“Thirty-five hundred?”

Dead silence and hostile gazes met his efforts.
Many men turned away to talk with their neighbors.

“Split ‘em up!
That’s the only way you’re going to get rid of them. I got my eye on that woman but I don’t want the rest of them.” The cold words came from a coarsely dressed man with a wad of tobacco set in his cheek. He turned and let loose with a long spit into a handy spittoon.

“Yeah!
Split them up!” The chorus rose around the building.

The auctioneer shrugged his shoulders.
His expression said he had tried, but was willing to accept the inevitable.

Carrie could feel the tears welling in her eyes as she watched the look of helpless fear and pain consume the small family.

“Who will start the bidding for Jessie at one thousand dollars?”
Once more the building filled with shouts and calls. “Sold! For eighteen hundred dollars to Mark Simmons.”

The auctioneer’s attempt to sell the woman with all her children was met with the same empty silence as before.
Shaking his head with frustration, he yelled out. “Who will take the woman with
any
of her children?”

“I’ll take the woman with her oldest kid.
I don’t want any more of them!” A few nods accompanied the shouted statement.

“Alright, gentlemen,” the auctioneer said in a defeated tone.
“Who will start the bidding at five hundred dollars?”

Carrie watched helplessly as the auction building erupted with bids once more.
As she watched, Hannah lifted her dark eyes and met her own squarely. The mute appeal was more than Carrie could stand. She made no effort to brush away the tears flowing down her cheeks. She felt completely powerless to do anything to help this poor woman who was about to lose almost all of her family.

“Sold!
For nine hundred and fifty dollars to Mr. Stephen Manning.”

Hannah’s remaining children were sold individually for three hundred dollars apiece.
The whole family was led separately from the bidding room, Hannah crying out as her children reached for her and were jerked away.

Carrie couldn’t breathe.
She turned and stumbled from the building, fighting against the sickness and dizziness threatening to overcome her. Once outside she leaned against a lamppost and drew deep lungfuls of air. She was dimly aware that there were still tears running down her cheeks. Visions of Hannah being led from the room, crying for her babies, rose up in her mind and threatened to engulf her.

The soft spring air helped her regain control.
Finally she became aware of her surroundings. Passersby were staring at her curiously. Miles, with a carefully blank look, was standing motionless nearby.

“I want to leave here, Miles.”

He nodded and fell in place beside her as they slowly walked up the street. Gone was the magic of the day. Carrie felt as if she had been delivered a severe kick to her stomach. They were almost to the Capitol building before she found her voice. “Miles... It was—oh, it was horrible! I’m sorry I made you take me in there.”

Miles remained silent.

“Miles.
How could they separate that family? How could they do that?” She knew she was bordering on tears once more.

Miles shrugged.
“It happens, Miss Carrie.” His voice was tired.

“Does it happen often?”
Carrie’s thoughts were coming back into focus, and with them, the barrage of questions she had been trying to force down for weeks.

“Often enough.”

“I’m glad my father doesn’t do things like that,” she said gratefully. “I can never imagine him splitting up a family like that.”

Miles stared ahead.

Carrie turned to look at him, realization dawning in her mind. “It happens, doesn’t it, Miles? My father sells slaves and splits up families?”

“Ain’t my place to be answering questions like that, Miss Carrie.”

Carrie stared up at him.
Somewhere from deep in her heart she began to realize what an impossible conversation this was for Miles. He may be her lifelong friend, but he was also her slave. He belonged to her daddy. Miles would have to watch every word that came out of his mouth. She didn’t know where her sudden understanding was coming from, but it was there. “I’m sorry, Miles. I won’t ask you any more questions.”

“Thank you, Miss Carrie.”

C
arrie and her father were seated at the table. Both were unusually quiet, Carrie deep in her thoughts about the auction. For the second time, Thomas checked his watch.

“Have you somewhere to be, Father?”

Thomas looked up. “What?” He looked at the watch in his hand. “No, I don’t have to be anywhere.”

Carrie watched him closely, wondering what she
had said that prompted the spark of laughter in his eyes. “Then why are you looking at your watch?”

“Is there something wrong with a man wanting to know what time it is?”

Carrie, relieved to be distracted from her own heavy thoughts, willingly entered into the game. “There is when I know good and well you are hiding something.”

“Think you know me well, do you daughter?”

“I don’t
think
. I know. What’s the big secret?”

“I’m sorry I’m a few minutes late.”

Carrie gasped as the deep voice she had been dreaming of sounded behind her back. She whirled around, a glad smile on her lips. “Robert Borden! What are you doing here?”

Robert looked at her father.
“You didn’t tell her you invited me to join you for dinner?”

“Guilty,” Thomas replied, smiling.
Then he turned to Carrie. “I ran into Robert in the Capitol Square this morning. He has plans to be in town for a few days so I asked him to join us.”

Carrie was glad to see her friend.
“When did you return from Charleston?”

“Just this morning.
I ran into your father when I was out for a stroll to stretch my legs after the long train ride.” He seemed emboldened by her open welcome. “May I take you for a walk around the city after we have eaten?”

Carrie’s quick glance at her father noted his approval.
“I’d love to.” Maybe Robert could help her sort through the confusion in her heart.

SIXTEEN

“What’s wrong wid you, girl?
You been jumpy as a spring toad all night.” Rose flushed under her mama’s scrutiny. She should have known better than to come for dinner tonight. She had never been able to hide things from her mama. She cast in her mind for something to say, but Sarah saved her the trouble.

“Oh, don’t even bother to come up with some purty somethin’ to say.
I know a girl holdin’ a secret when I see one.” Sarah laughed at the look on Rose’s face. She grew serious as she walked over and put a gentle hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “My heart be tellin’ me you’re gonna be doin’ somethin’ right dangerous. You be careful, girl.”

Rose nodded.
“I will.” She knew it was useless to rebut what her mama was saying. She had never been able to keep secrets from her. “Mama...”

“Shush, Rose.
You ain’t got to tell me nothin’,” Sarah said firmly. “You just be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if somethin’ was to happen to you.” Moving over to the fire, she picked up her Bible. “Let’s just sit fer a spell.”

Rose nodded gratefully.
In truth, that was all she wanted. She needed to sit still and find comfort in quiet. She needed time to listen to her heart and to gain courage for what she was about to do. The shadows lengthened in the tiny cabin, the silence marred only by Sarah rising to throw another log on the fire. The days were warm, almost hot now, but the nights still had a cool edge that welcomed a flickering flame. Rose felt herself relaxing under the spell of her mama’s home.

“It be time now, Rose.”

Rose started and peered at her Mama. “How do you know it’s time for something, Mama?” Had someone told the secret she had hugged so closely for two weeks? That was impossible. No one knew but herself. It was safer that way.

Sarah just shrugged.
“Get on with ya, girl,” she said softly. “You don’t want to be late. But befores you go, come on over here and hug your old mama.”

Rose wrapped her arms around her wordlessly, drawing from the quiet strength and love flowing from her eyes.
“I love you, Mama.”

“And I love you.
Now git on wid you.”

Mystified, Rose did as she was told
and moved to the door. She looked back to see Sarah bending her head. The sight of her mama praying gave her renewed courage. She stepped out of the cabin and quietly melted into the shadows. When she was sure she was alone, she soundlessly merged into the woods. Once concealed, she began to walk rapidly,
away
from the direction where her students would soon be converging for school.

Rose moved swiftly.
It was important she get to the appointed meeting place early. It would give her a better chance of knowing whether the whole arrangement was an elaborate hoax. Her footsteps slowed as she approached the bend of the road coming into Cromwell Plantation. At least she didn’t have to worry about Adams. Cromwell was gone and she knew the overseer would be using the time to get rip-roaring drunk. Someone here would pay the next day, but for now she had no fear he would be lurking in the shadows somewhere. She settled herself in a dense thicket of brush and crouched, listening quietly.

Rose had waited maybe twenty minutes when she heard the sound of approaching
hoofbeats. She slunk further back into the bushes and peered out to see who was coming. Yes, it was him. Jamison appeared to be alone, but she was in no hurry to reveal herself. She would wait a while longer. If others were with him, they would reveal themselves. She waited for what seemed like an eternity. Then, finally confident he was alone, she stood and stepped from her hiding place into the road.