By Way of the Rose (12 page)

“Time to eat!” Sarah called. “Come in and get washed up!” The twins giggled as they skipped toward Sarah. Then Jennie stopped suddenly.

“Oh Sarah, what happened to your face?”

“Does it look bad?” Sarah touched where Nathan had belted her.

“Yeah, it's all red and a little purple. What happened?”

“I— I, guess I was stumbling around in the dark and tripped. I must have hit my face harder than I thought,” Sarah lied. “Now come on in, lunch is ready.”

When the rest of the family came in that evening, they all noticed Sarah's face. One by one she told each the same lie as Nathan glared at her. By Monday her cheek was a vivid purple. She didn't want to face her friends at school and have to lie to them too, so she decided that she would stay home until the bruise went away. But when Greta appeared on the doorstep immediately after school, Sarah's heart sank. Greta knew her too well, knew she would never miss school without a good reason.

“My, Lord!” Greta exclaimed, gently touching her friend's bruised face, “What happened to you?”

“I— I stumbled and hit it against the corner of the bed.” Sarah told her. “Let's go for a walk.”

“All right.” As the friends wandered down to the stream Greta took Sarah's arm. “Now, what really happened to you?”

“Oh, Greta, I do need someone to talk to but you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone!”

“I won't tell, not if you don't want me to.”

“I don't want you to. Not even Shane. If it gets out it will make it worse for me.”

“You can trust me. You know you can.”

“Nathan got mad with me for, well, I don't know why he got mad with me and he... ”

“That over-grown ox hit you?” Sarah looked away. “This is it, somebody's going to have to do something! He's getting worse by the day!”

“What are you going to do? You can't tell on him. I told you, that will only make it worse for me! You gave me your word, Greta!”

“Sarah, your folks need to know what he did to you.”

“What can they do about it? Kick him out of the house? You and I both know that's never going to happen. Sure they'll get on to him... make him do extra chores or even take a strap to him. If I get him in trouble it'll just make him ten times madder with me and I'll get worse than this next time. He'll take his extra chores out of my hide.”

“They should know what he did.”

“No, it's better for me if I just keep this to myself. Greta, you'd better not tell either! It can only make him worse. Just be my friend.”

“But Sarah... ”

“I mean it, Greta Thompson! Not a word.”

“There's nothing I can do?”

“You're my best friend and I needed to tell someone I could trust.”

“You can tell me anything. But it still hurts that I'm helpless. I hate Nathan... I really do!”

“I'm helpless too, Greta. But hate doesn't do me any good. I'm just trying to live. It's hard to live in a family when you know you have no right to be there.”

“What are you saying?”

Sarah realized that Greta, who didn't know the DuVal family secret, had no idea what she was talking about and she didn't dare tell her, so she simply said, “Nothing, really. Just forget about it.”

Fall was unusually cold. By the thermometer on Mr. Hamilton's window it had gotten down to fifteen degrees in early October. The cold weather had crept in during the night along with a misty rain and bone-chilling winds, so that an oppressive grayness hung over the valley. This cold lingered on for weeks. It was unrelenting and bitter, making the trek to and from school harder and harder for Sarah and her friends to manage. The ruts and holes on the old wagon road held mud and icy water that coated their shoes and soaked their feet. Since only a couple of students lived close enough to make it every day, the school closed early for winter.

Sarah usually enjoyed fall but there were no sunny, crisp autumn days this year. She felt absolutely claustrophobic locked up in the house with Nathan and Cora. Those two were almost always on her about something, especially Nathan. Her room was her only escape and she spent most of her time there. When she ventured out they were there to torment her. Yesterday it was how she breathed and today it was how she ate. She wondered what it would be tomorrow. How she drank, what she wore or how she sat? She knew for sure it would be something to make her feel miserable, outcast or stupid.

As she sat alone in her room she prepared for the evenings lessons with Jenny and Betty. She found joy in spending this time with them. They idolized her. Next year they would be walking to school with her every day. On these icy evenings, Sarah sat with the girls teaching them all they'd need to know for the coming year. They would start out well ahead of the others.

Every month like clockwork, letters came from John. The postmarks were from all over. South Carolina, Virginia, Georgia, Alabama. He said his work kept him on the road all the time. Sarah wondered why he couldn't visit her and the rest of his family if he could visit all those places. Did none of his travels bring him to Tennessee? It had been four years already. Would he ever come home again? Did he even care to see her anymore or this beautiful home they'd built? Didn't he care to see any of his family? The letters gave her comfort, but she wanted more. She longed for the good times, the understanding and the love that he so freely gave her. He was her hero and she missed him terribly. Some nights she cried herself to sleep thinking over the past and his sweet care of her. His smile when he was reading her stories. His praise when she'd done something well. His gentleness and soothing voice when she was hurt. This pain in her heart was sometimes too great to bear, especially on days when Nathan had been bitterly critical and cruel to her. The only thing that made these cold, gloomy days bearable was teaching. Soon Thorney was coming every evening to join Sarah, Jennie and Bettie in the lessons. Then came Thomas and pretty soon Ester and even Jonas came. They had to turn the dining room into a school room and Marion helped Sarah teach them all. They seemed to learn better on baking days. It must have been the sweet smell of the fresh bread along with the cozy warmth it created. The proudest day was when Jonas was able to read the Holy Scriptures. He tripped over some of the words, but he patiently sounded them out, determined to get them right. As Marion cleared away the books that evening Jonas stood, holding his hat with Ester and the children beside him as he spoke.

“Miss Marion, I sho'ly do appreciate what all ‘y'all has done for us. Next to the freedoms, dis here teachin’ be about the best next thang. I ain't never thought I'd be able to read the printed words for myself. Or my family either. God bless you, ma'am.”

“Well, Jonas, you know you'll have to keep quiet about this. We've already got into trouble around here. If they find out we're letting you read too we'll get burned out for sure. But I want you to be ready when it's time to set off up north. An education opens the door to the world.”

“That's the truth, ma'am. That's the God's honest truth.”

Kyle Adams had been making a name for himself. The bigger his name grew, the more danger came to him. One night he narrowly escaped a lynching mob. He hadn't done anything but give his name to an inn keeper in a small Alabama town... but evidently that was enough, John had been recognized.

Late that night, a thin slave girl, in a plain flour-sack dress came to his door. She was small, barely coming up to John's waist and her hair stood out on her head like a large frizzed knot. “Mr. Adams, sir.” She whispered. “I be Tad, Mr. Sims’ girl. I come to warn you ‘bout him.”

“What about him?” John asked.

“I heard him talking. He ain't knowed I heard him, but I did. You gots to get out of here, and you gots to get out of here soon! He going to get his friends and they is going to lynch you tonight. They gonna hang you from that bridge down yonder.”

“Why would they do that? And just how do you know?” His heart raced.

“Because they know you be that Adams fellow that they hates. They know you been bringing those papers all over the South and helping slaves to run away. They hate you, they do! I hear everything.”

John quickly gathered his things with trembling hands. He felt like he was going to be sick. The little girl kept watching him with her large round saucer like eyes.

Finally she spoke. “Sir, can I come with you?”

John turned suddenly. “No, no, that's impossible!”

“But I been waiting for a chance... I've been praying for a chance, and you be it. I know you be it!”

“Don't be crazy, child! The winter is hard this year. I'm leaving on foot. You wouldn't last a minute out there, you're too little!”

“I won't last a second if I stay here. He'll know I tipped you off and he'll be wanting to kill me, like he wants to kill you. But if you can live with yourself, knowing I died for you, you go on and leave without me, Mr. Adams, sir.” She shook her small head in disappointment.

“You have anything you want to bring?” John asked her. The girl smiled big. Her dark lips showed a sharp contrast to her pearly white teeth. It seemed as if her entire face lit up.

“No, Sir. I ain't gots nothing to take, ‘cept myself and what's on my back.”

“No coat? Nothing warmer to wear?”

“No, Sir. What you sees is all they is.”

“Good Lord! Could you pick a worse time to want to light out, little Tad?”

“This is my chance. God picked this time, not me.”

John flung his coat off and wrapped her in it. The sleeves hung to her knees and the coat's hem brushed her ankles. “We'll fix it better later. There's no time to spare.” He grabbed his bag and Tad's hand and they left together, running through the cold night. The small girl could barely keep up with him, weighed down in his heavy coat. She tripped over it and landed on the ground. He grabbed her up and slung her on his back, like a sack of potatoes, never missing a step. He ran for what seemed like hours. Oh, how he longed to see the light of a safe house. He kept going with the child holding tightly to his shoulders. He felt his body wanting to quit. He was so cold. But he kept running with all his might, following the north star as he had told so many others to do. They had to get to safety soon or they'd both be goners. Suddenly, in the distance, John saw a flicker of light through the trees.
Was it? Could it be a safe house?
John dropped the child from his shoulders. “You wait here, little Tad. Understand?”

“What you gonna to do? You can't leave me out here! I'll die of fright and freeze!”

“I'm going to get us a place to stay for the night, I hope. Keep moving and don't stop. Jump up and down or something.”

“What?” Tad looked puzzled.

“It'll keep you from freezing. Just keep hopping.”

“Yessir.” She shivered as she watched him go. She jumped up and down and twisted while the big coat flapped.

John looked back and smiled at the sight. “Good job, little Tad, keep it up!” he whispered.

“Hurry back! It's scary out here!” she whispered back.

All of the lights inside the house were out. Everything was pitch dark, except for the light burning on the post in the yard. That was the signal of a safe house... that's what they'd always told the slaves to look for. John felt his insides tighten. He could only imagine the fear if he were a black man standing here. Not knowing for sure if this was a friendly house, or a trick, or someone had just left their light burning by accident. He knocked on the door and soon heard footsteps in the house. They walked slowly toward the door. John wanted to hurry them up so he pounded louder. “I'm coming!” A man's voice shouted. His steps were quicker. “Who's there?”

“I'm looking for a safe house.” John called back. The door flung open. The man held his lamp up to see John.

“But, you're not... ”

“I know, I'm not a slave. But I'm in trouble just the same. Is this a safe house?” The man hesitated as though he was being tricked into saying something. But, he must have seen some of the desperation in John's face, because he seemed to relax a little.

“Yes, this is a safe house, come in.” He motioned to John.

“There's someone with me. A little Negro girl. I needed to check you out before I let her be seen.”

“Very well, let's go get her.” He handed John a blanket. When they brought Tad in she was shivering violently. They sat her in front of a roaring fire with a cup of hot tea, still wrapped in John's large coat.

“My hands is stinging, and my feets too!” Tad cried as the warmth began bringing the feeling back to her hands and feet that had been numbed by the cold.

“It'll ease up in a minute.” John rubbed her hands quickly.

“Here, you sit down and have a cup of tea, too,” the man told John. “You're about blue yourself, boy!”

“I sure could use a cup, mister.” John held the cup with both hands to warm them.

“You two sure did pick a fine time to leave, didn't you?” The man said as he sat in his large rocker.

“We didn't pick the time, sir. Like little Tad said, it kind of picked us.” He winked at the little girl.

“Care to tell me about it?”

“Well, I was supposed to be lynched tonight and if it hadn't been for this little one here,” He motioned towards Tad, “I guess I would have been. She told me about the plot, and I brought her to keep her safe in case they knew it was her who told me.”

“I see. And why were you going to be lynched?”

“Because I'm Kyle Adams,” John confessed.

The man's face brightened. “Mr. Adams! Oh gracious, I've heard so much about you! May I shake your hand?” He jumped from his chair and thrust his hand toward John.

“Of course.” John offered his hand.

“It's mighty nice to meet you; I can't believe you're in my home.”

“Neither can I, sir. I thought we'd both die out there in that cold before we found you. What's your name?”

“I'm Sam Frank.”

“Mighty nice to meet you, Mr. Frank... you keep a warm and cozy house here.” John grinned. “I'm so grateful to you for all you're doing, not just for us, but for everyone.”

“Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from a man like you. My wife is away visiting her folks. I can't tell you how much she admires you too. She thinks mighty highly of you, Adams, that's for sure. She'll be so disappointed if she doesn't get to meet you while you're here.”