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Authors: Elisa Carbone

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BOOK: Stealing Freedom
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Then, as if the news really had been something out of a dream, their days settled into the normal rhythm of their work, sunup to sundown. John was expected to work for Master
Charles each day until long past dark, and on Sundays, to make up for the weeks he'd spent away.

It was corn-planting time, and Ann decided she was twelve. Though the weather was warm and the earth soft, and though Tom and Lizzy and most of their children were busy plowing and planting Master William's fields, Ann and her family were busy mostly with packing. All of Mistress Carol's dishes had to be wrapped and placed in crates. Everything from tablecloths to cutlery, mirrors to dresses, had to be packaged neatly for the move. Ann's father worked loading the last of the grain and helping Master Charles herd the animals to market to be sold off.

For Ann, getting a chance to work in the Prices’ house could have been pleasant. There weren't nearly as many flies, mosquitoes, or spiders as in her family's cabin, and the windows let in a good bit of light along with the spring breezes. It could have been pleasant, if it hadn't been for Mistress Carol.

Ann wondered why, if the woman was so afraid of her precious possessions getting broken, she didn't simply pack them herself. She spent her days fretting, giving orders, and reprimanding. And when the packing was done wrong, in her opinion, she made Ann, her mother, and Catharine do it all over again. Ann was relieved when there were guests at the inn and they could leave the packing in order to cook and serve the meals. She also welcomed the chance to bring the midday meal to her father, and always took Benjamin with her. The little boy was spending his days sitting on the floor of Mistress Carol's kitchen with strict orders to keep quiet and not touch anything. More than once he'd been slapped by the mistress for touching the china or putting one of her hats on his head.

One day, as Ann carried a basket of food for her father in one hand and held on to Benjamin with the other, he pulled away from her, fascinated by a flock of birds eating spilled grain near the barn. He ran at them, his arms outstretched. They flew into the air, then swarmed back down to eat. He giggled and ran at them again. They repeated their performance.

“Benjamin, come on. Papa is hungry—we have to take him his dinner.”

“No,” Benjamin whined. “I want to see the birds.”

Ann sighed. If she waited with him, she'd be scolded for being late. But she couldn't bear to drag him away—his days in Mistress Carol's kitchen were so grim.

“Will you stay right here?” she asked him. “You won't wander off?”

Benjamin nodded his promise.

Ann glanced around. The hounds were securely chained and sleeping in the shade. The horses were in their stalls, and he was far enough from the house that Mistress Carol wouldn't hear his giggles.

“I'll be back very soon,” she told him, and hurried to where her father was running corn through the corn sheller. She didn't talk with him for more than a moment, but still, as she made her way back toward the barns, she was afraid Benjamin had been alone too long. As she neared the place where she'd left him, the sound of Master Charles's voice made her heart sink. She crept to the edge of a stone wall and peeked out. Master Charles was leading the mare, Sally, and he had Benjamin by the hand.

“Oh, Lord,” she whispered. “What is he going to do to him?”

Blaming herself, she tried to think quickly of what to do. Step out boldly and grab Benjamin before Master Charles could hurt him? Run back to the house to get her mother to come? Scream at Master Charles to stop?

But before she could move, Master Charles did an astounding thing. He lifted Benjamin up onto Sally's saddle.

“She's a very gentle mare, you see?” He was talking to Benjamin in a kinder voice than Ann had ever heard him use with anyone. “When you get a little older, I'll teach you to ride her on your own.”

From her hiding place, Ann saw Benjamin smiling, though his blue eyes were wide with uncertainty at being atop a large horse.

Master Charles led Sally, with her very young rider, away toward the cornfield. The last thing she heard him say was “We'll go show Master William what a little man you are.”

Ann walked slowly back to the stone house. When her mother whispered “Where is Benjamin?” Ann mouthed the words “With Master Charles,” pointing toward the barns. Arabella frowned at her, but Ann assured her he was fine.

So it was not a great surprise when, several days later, as Ann, Catharine, and their mother sat wrapping canning jars in old newspapers, they overheard a vicious fight between Mistress Carol and Master Charles.

“I've been shamed in front of all of Unity—hasn't that been enough?” Mistress Carol spat.

“Stick to your household chores.” Master Charles sounded bored by his wife's pain. “You know nothing of business, and this is a business decision.”

“A business decision?” The mistress's voice rose to a screech. “I know what kind of decision it is, and I'll not have you making it at my expense!”

“He's too young to work. In five years he'll fetch a handsome price, but—”

“I will not be shamed in front of all of Rockville! I'll kill him first.
Then
how much will he be worth to you?”

They heard a door slam, and there was silence. Ann grasped Catharine's hand and they both looked at Benjamin, who had fallen asleep on the floor. Their mother began to sing softly.

The very next Saturday morning, Master Charles loaded up his wagon with the last of the chickens, five barrels of tobacco, two sacks of wheat, and his son, and took them all to Baltimore to be sold.

Eleven

“We had no right to keep him with us forever,” said Ann's mother. “Maybe he'll find his mamma now…someday.”

Their house was even more empty with Benjamin gone. Ann tried to comfort herself by imagining that he'd been sold to a farm near where Ellie was living and that word would spread about a new arrival—a young mulatto boy with eyes like blue china. Ellie would walk to find him one Sunday and visit him every Sunday after that. Ann had heard stories of that kind of thing, and she prayed it would happen to Benjamin and Ellie.

With the improvement in the weather, many people now passed through the inn. Ann's mother used an extra apron to hide her growing belly, but her desperation grew along with the child inside her.

Late one evening, Ann's family sat huddled around the dying fire. The glowing coals gave a reddish light to their faces, and they spoke in hushed tones.

“Where is the help they promised?”Arabella asked. She didn't sound angry or impatient, just despairing. “We've got
to get away from here. Before they sell our girls away from us, before they find out about the one I'm carrying and put a price on his head. Before they break this family into so many pieces we'll never find each other again.”

Her husband rubbed her hands between his own. “Reverend Ray said he would work as fast as he could,” he said. But his eyes, too, looked as though he was giving up hope.

It was as if the heavens heard her parents’ despair and said, “Enough.” Three days later Jacob Bigelow came to their cabin.

He was a white man, not particularly tall, though he did bump his head on the door frame because he forgot to duck. He had great bushy sideburns and wiry eyebrows, and wore spectacles that magnified his eyes and gave his face a slightly froglike look. He rubbed his chin a lot. He called Ann's father and mother Mr. Weems and Mrs. Weems and called Ann and Catharine “Miss.”

Rubbing his chin, Mr. Bigelow explained what he'd come to do. “I've been sent by the Vigilance Committee to offer money for all three of you—good prices that I believe Mr. Price should accept.” He shifted in his chair and it creaked under his weight. “You will become my property—but, I promise you, I only own slaves for a short time. I will draw up manumission papers—as an attorney for the Washington Gas Light Company, I'm able to do that sort of thing in my spare time. Once the papers are signed, you will become free people.”

Ann's stomach did a little flip. It sounded so wonderful and so simple. There would be no running through the woods at night, no fear of being caught and punished. She hoped it would happen before too many years passed.
“Where can we live?” Arabella asked. “We'll have nowhere to stay once we don't work for Master Charles anymore.”

Mr. Bigelow nodded, as though he'd already thought it all through. “I live in Washington City, and I'll be happy to help you get settled there. I will sign for you for rooms to rent, and I have friends at the docks in Georgetown who can offer you a job, Mr. Weems.”

“Thank you. Thank you, sir,” Ann's father fidgeted nervously. “But…what about my boys?” he asked.

“We have been working to find them,” said Mr. Bigelow. “There's still no word, but the Vigilance Committee won't give up easily. Once the rest of you are free, you'll be able to help.”

Ann's father grasped her mother's hand and squeezed it.

Rising to leave, Mr. Bigelow asked, “So, are we all in agreement?”

Ann, her mother and father, and Catharine each emphatically agreed to the plan.

“Good,” said Mr. Bigelow. “Then I will go immediately to Mr. Price to make the offers.”

Excitement shot through Ann's limbs. It was to happen
today?
Right now?

It was a Saturday. They'd stopped work early, as was usual for a Saturday, and because the days were long springtime days, the sun still hung in the sky. Suddenly the cabin didn't seem large enough to hold her joy. Ann ran out into the cool air and twirled around, her arms flung wide. Catharine joined her, and Ann, breathless, threw her arms around her sister. “Let's go listen,” she whispered.

Catharine hesitated, but then agreed.

They ran quietly up the hill. The windows of the stone house were open, so they only needed to place themselves under the correct one. They followed the sound of voices, then pressed themselves against the cool stone wall, holding their breath to keep from giggling.

“I hear you're getting out of farming,” Mr. Bigelow was saying.

“If the price of a sack of guano wasn't fat enough to choke an ox, I might have been able to make my land fertile again. How do you figure they can charge so much for a pile of putrid bird dung?” said Master Charles.

“I reckon it's the shipping, halfway around the world from Peru,” said Bigelow.

“I reckon you're right.”

Bigelow began again. “I hear you're selling off your farmhands. I'd like to make you an offer on the rest of the Weems family.”

“Now, I hadn't planned on selling them all off. My wife will still need help around the house.”

“I'm prepared to make you a fine offer. It should help with any debts you still have from running the farm.”

Master Charles cleared his throat. Ann grasped Catharine's hand and squeezed it hard. A breeze stirred the branches of the maple so that it tossed like a horse's mane against the clear sky.

“A thousand dollars for the mother. Sixteen hundred for the older girl, and five hundred for the younger one.”

Ann pouted and scowled at Catharine.

Catharine shook her head. “It's not a compliment to us nor
an insult to you, Ann,” she whispered. “It's only that…” Her voice trailed off.

“It's only
what
?” Ann whispered too loudly.

“Shhh,” Catharine admonished. They sat like statues for a moment to make sure no one had heard. Inside, the negotiations continued. “I'll have to consider if my wife can do without her seamstress—but it's true, I do have more debts to pay off.”

Ann poked Catharine in the arm, still demanding an explanation.

“It's just that—” Catharine blushed as she continued. “You can't have babies yet, and Mamma and I both can. Babies they can
sell.

Ann felt suddenly dizzy and sick to her stomach. She wished she hadn't come to listen as she and her mother and sister were sorted out and priced like cattle. “Let's go,” she whispered, and tugged on Catharine's hand.

“It's all right, Ann,” said Catharine. “We're going to be free soon, and none of that will matter. We'll just be girls.” She stroked Ann's cheek.

But as they rose to leave, Ann saw her sister's face go slack as Master Charles's words drifted from the window: “All right, then. Twenty-six hundred it is. My wife will have to get used to only one extra pair of hands to help around the house.”

“Mr. Price, won't you please reconsider—”

“Mr. Bigelow—” Master Charles sounded angry. “I have made up my mind, and I don't enjoy being argued with. I will not leave my wife without household help. If you don't want the mother and the older girl, then I suggest you leave.”

“No!” Catharine said, too loudly, “He can't do that!”

Ann choked on her own breath. It couldn't be. They must have heard wrong.

Two heads appeared at the window. Master Charles pointed at Catharine. “You,” he said, “go tell your mother and father you're leaving.” Then, to Mr. Bigelow beside him, he said, “I want you to take your property and go. I'll not have them crying and wailing around here all night.”

Catharine grasped Ann's hand and started to run. Ann stumbled, keeping up with her.

“Mamma! Papa!” Catharine cried as they neared the cabin. “Don't let them do it!” She fell into Arabella's arms. “They're going to make us go away and leave Ann here.”

Their father placed one hand on Catharine's head and looked up at Ann. Ann stopped short of the group of three, huddled together. She felt as if she were sinking, dropping away from them.

“This is not what I asked for,” her father said angrily. “I want to join this family together, not break it apart!” He marched up the hill and met Jacob Bigelow, who was on his way down. Ann watched as they gestured. They seemed to be arguing.

Catharine came to her. “Papa won't let them do it,” she said. “He'll tell them we won't leave you.”

But Ann already felt it. The fabric of her family had been ripped again, and she was the piece that was being torn off.

Her father's shoulders drooped with despair when he returned down the hill. “Oh, baby girl,” was all he could say as he enveloped her in a hug that seemed to want to blot out the rest of the world. She felt his body shake and knew it was too
late to take back anything that had been decided that afternoon. Ann held him tightly and tried to memorize the feel of his arms and chest.

BOOK: Stealing Freedom
11.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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