Mandie and the Secret Tunnel (3 page)

“Amanda! Amanda!” Etta was calling from the back door. “Where’re you at? Git back in this house and rid up these dishes!”

The old man quickly rose. “I go now. I watch Papoose new house. Better squaw not see me. I come again—full moon.” He kissed the top of her head and silently disappeared into the darkness.

“Amanda!” Etta still yelled for her.

She walked slowly back to the house, the house where she had so many memories of her father, the house her father had built, now taken over by another man. She would leave because she would be forced to go, but she would come back someday. She would return to her father’s house.

Before the first streak of light was in the sky the next morning, Mandie quietly rose, dressed, and hurried up the mountainside to her father’s grave. Snowball bounced along before her.

She hurried, stumbling over the rough rocks, because she knew her mother would be looking for her. The weather was warmer now, but it was still chilly early in the morning. She held up her long skirt to keep it from getting wet in the early morning dew, and then seeing Indian Paintbrush blooming along the way, she quickly let go of her skirt and picked a handful of the bright flowers and ran on. Out of breath, she dropped on her knees by her father’s grave and made a hole with a stick to plant the tiny bunch of flowers.

She sat back and folded her hands under her chin as she looked toward the sky. “Dear God, what time I am afraid I will put my trust in thee. I don’t know what I did to cause you to take my daddy. I don’t understand it, but I still love you.”

Rising, she fought back the tears and ran back down the dirt road. She saw Mr. and Mrs. Bryson arriving in their buggy as she hastily ran in the back door and was confronted by her mother.

“Where’ve you been? Why, your skirt’s all wet.” Etta bent to touch the fabric. “I hear the Brysons now, so you’d better git your grits there in a hurry if you want any breakfast.”

Etta went on into the front room where Mandie could hear her greeting the visitors. She slid into a chair and spooned out grits into her plate. She ate quickly, without saying a word to Snowball, as she fed him beneath the table. It was all she could do to keep from choking on the food. She was so fearful of what lay ahead for her. She had never spent a night away from home in her life and now she was being sent away to live with strangers.

Etta stuck her head through the doorway, “Git a move on, Amanda. They’re in a hurry.”

She jumped up, snatched Snowball up in her arms, and turned to face her mother defiantly. “I’m taking Snowball with me!”

“Well, take him. Be one less cat around here. Now come in here and meet the people you’re goin’ to live with.”

Etta pushed her forward into the front room. A very fat young woman, evidently dressed in her Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, sat near the door and a short, thin man stood nearby talking to Zach.

“My, my, she’s an awful little thing,” the woman exclaimed. “Is she big enough to be any good
around the house?” The man silently turned to listen and look.

“Course she is. She’s eleven year old atter all. Be twelve next week,” Etta told the woman. “Just the age for you to train her the way you want.”

Etta gave the girl another shove. “Now git your things, Amanda.”

Mandie climbed the ladder and blindly crammed her few belongings into the flour sack her mother had given her. She picked up Snowball and went back downstairs. The Brysons were in a big hurry to get going.

Etta attempted to put an arm around the child. “Now you be a good girl. And remember we still love you.”

Amanda tore loose, fighting the tears and the hatred she felt at that moment and ran into the yard, the Brysons following. She did not look back as they rode off until she knew her mother would be gone from the yard. Then she wiped her eyes and took one long, last look at her father’s house.

Sarah Bryson was the same age as Mandie, and at first Mandie thought she had found a friend. But soon she learned that Sarah was doing things she shouldn’t and blaming them on Mandie, telling lies and getting her into trouble. And the Brysons always believed their daughter. Mandie was punished with a hickory switch on her legs, which she had never experienced in her life. Her father had never allowed it. Mandie was desperately afraid of the Brysons and no matter what she did, she could not please them with anything.

The new baby was an adorable little boy named Andrew and Mandie loved him immediately. But he was not her only duty. She had to help hoe corn and bring in the cows. And with a sinking heart, she learned she would not be allowed to attend school.
Furthermore, she had to stay home and watch Andrew while the Brysons went to church on Sunday!

Preacher DeHart came to preach on the first and third Sundays every month at the Brysons’ church. The other Sundays he was at Maple Springs, the church Mandie belonged to back home. When he learned that the girl was living with the Brysons and was not allowed to come to church he came to see her.

“Remember the Sabbath Day to keep it holy, Amanda, even though you have to tend to the baby and can’t go to church,” he told her, as they sat in the Brysons’ kitchen on Sunday afternoon after dinner. “You mustn’t do anything to sin on the Lord’s Day.”

Mandie, always frightened by the big man’s loud words, meekly said nothing, but, “Yes, sir, yes, sir.”

She had known the preacher all her young life and she believed the bad things he said would happen to her if she did not live the right kind of life.

Her birthday came and went and no one even mentioned it. She wished the days by until the full moon when Uncle Ned had promised to visit her.

She sat in the swing under a tree in the backyard that night waiting for him, and when he made his stealthy appearance, she ran to him crying, pouring out her troubles.

“Don’t cry, Papoose,” he comforted her. “Cherokee think. I keep watch over Papoose. Cherokee think what to do.”

The old Indian returned each week, but had not been able to come up with any solution to her problems. However, after Mandie had been living there for a few weeks, she happened to overhear a conversation which gave her some hope.

She was singing to the baby as she tried to rock him to sleep in his cradle in the room she shared with him. Mr. and Mrs. Bryson were in the next room and did not know the door was open.

“What are we going to do with that girl? She just can’t do nothing right. We’re gonna hafta git shed of her,” Mrs. Bryson was speaking shrilly.

“Looks like Jim Shaw’s brother over in Franklin would take care of her,” Mr. Bryson replied.

“You know there’s been hard feelings between Jim and John Shaw ever since Jim married—”

“That don’t make no difference,” Mr. Bryson interrupted. “This girl is the old man’s niece and he ought to be responsible for her. He’s got the money to support her.”

“Well, I’m sure he knew Jim died and he never went near them.” Mrs. Bryson changed the subject. “I think we orta git Dr. Woodard to look Andrew over. He’s been lookin’ mighty peaked lately.”

“Seems all right to me, but I’ll send word tomorrow if you want,” her husband promised.

Mandie had stopped rocking the cradle when she heard the name and location of her father’s brother. She would find him herself. And of all things—they were going to have Dr. Woodard come to see Andrew! That meant she could get a
message to Joe. Maybe things weren’t so hopeless after all. She didn’t want to lose touch with Joe. He was her only connection with her father’s house. Joe would be seeing her sister at school and would know what was going on.

Andrew had finally dropped off to sleep. She picked up an old catalogue lying nearby and tore off a corner of a page that didn’t have much printing. She quickly found a pencil in her bag of personal belongings and wrote a message. “Going to Franklin to live with Daddy’s brother, John. Terrible place here.”

Dr. Woodard came two days later and Mandie was overjoyed to see the old man as he pulled up in his buggy.

“And how are you, Amanda? Joe hasn’t been over to your ma’s lately, but he says your sister is mean as ever.” He laughed as he tweaked her long, blonde braid. “You all right?”

“I’m fine, Dr. Woodard,” she said, watching for the Brysons as she followed the doctor into the house. “Please give this to Joe for me,” she whispered, pulling the folded piece of paper out of her apron pocket and giving it to him. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Dr. Woodard winked at her and put the paper in his vest pocket. “Be glad to, Amanda. Now I have to see the baby.”

It was full moon that night and the old Indian showed up after suppertime. Mandie had rocked Andrew to sleep and was sitting in the yard when he appeared out of the trees. She got up and ran to him.

They sat down on the tree stump near the big black washpot hanging on its fork, with the two washtubs on a nearby bench shielding them from view.

“I have news, Uncle Ned,” Mandie told him. “I overheard Mr. and Mrs. Bryson talking about me. They said my Uncle John lives in Franklin. I have no idea which way that is. I need Cherokee help to get there, because I am going to live with him.”

A big smile broke across the old man’s face. “I glad. I am. Papoose go to uncle. No more trouble. Cherokee help. Find way. Bring food.” He was almost as excited as the girl.

“When, Uncle Ned? I need to go as soon as possible. These people here don’t like me and I’m afraid they might send me somewhere else.”

“Next moon, I come back. I go now. Find way. Make plans with Cherokee. Must hurry.” He rose.

“Thank you, Uncle Ned. Thank all of your people, or I should say, my people. They are my people, too, if they were my daddy’s people.”

“Yes, you Cherokee papoose. You go live with real uncle. Go to book school,” he told her.

She wiped a tear of joy from her eyes, as he silently stole away into the darkness. “Thank you, dear God, thank you,” she whispered as she looked up at the sky full of twinkling stars.

Doctor Woodard returned two days later to check on Andrew and he brought an answer to Mandie’s message to Joe.

“I’m getting to be a regular mailman,” he
laughed, as he tucked a small piece of paper into Mandie’s apron pocket when she followed him out to his buggy. She gave his big hand a quick squeeze and ran away to the outhouse where she could read the note in privacy.

“My father takes me to Franklin with him sometimes. Happy that you are going there. I will see you on my next visit there with my father—soon, I hope. Joe.”

Mandie smiled to herself as she thought about the boy and his concern for her. It would be nice to see him again.

At the change of the moon, true to his word, Uncle Ned silently waited for Mandie in the darkness of the trees in the backyard. When Andrew was asleep, she quietly slipped out the back door and found him there.

“Franklin long moon away. We come, squaw and braves, to take Papoose. When moon rises three times we come here.”

“Three days?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I will wait for you right here. Oh, I’m so—”

At that instant the back door opened and Sarah was calling to her as she came out into the yard. “Amanda, are you out there?” Sarah came into view and stopped. “Why, Amanda, who are you talking to out there?” She screamed as she came closer. “An Indian!” She turned to flee back to the house. Uncle Ned ran quickly away.

Mandie followed Sarah, running and calling, “It’s all right, Sarah.”

Mrs. Bryson appeared in the doorway. “What is going on?”

Sarah ran to her, clutching her long skirts. “An Indian! Amanda was talking to an Indian!”

“What!” Mrs. Bryson was shocked.

“It’s all right. That was Uncle Ned. He was my daddy’s friend,” Mandie tried to explain.

“Your daddy’s friend? An Indian?” Mrs. Bryson was white with fright as she turned back into the house.

“My daddy had lots of friends, all kinds,” Mandie added.

“I never heard of Indian friends. What was he doing here?” The woman was furious now.

“He just keeps in touch with me. He promised my daddy he would,” Mandie tried to reassure her.

“Keeps in touch with you?” Mrs. Bryson was still unsettled. “Now you listen here, young lady. Don’t you dare let that Indian come back here again. Why, I’ll have my husband shoot him! He’ll steal us blind!”

“Oh, no, Mrs. Bryson!” Mandie broke into tears.

“Well, I’d better not catch him here again.” She was very determined.

“You won’t, Mrs. Bryson. I promise,” she told her, silently thanking God that Uncle Ned was not to return again until he came after her. Then she would slip out and the Brysons would not see him.

The next three days dragged and it seemed as though the Brysons were meaner than usual to Mandie. They couldn’t stop warning her about the old Indian. She tried her best to be patient and
made her plans for the night when she would leave.

Andrew was more fretful than usual and she had a hard time getting him to go to sleep the night Uncle Ned was to return. She was almost sick with worry, fearing Uncle Ned would come with his friends and one of the Brysons would see them before she would be able to warn them.

At last the baby grew quiet and Mandie hastily gathered up her few belongings and crammed them into the same flour sack she had brought from home. Bending to kiss the chubby cheek of the sleeping infant and to scoop up Snowball in her arms, she picked up her bag and slipped outside into the warm summer darkness.

As soon as she had reached the shadows of the trees she saw Mr. Bryson come out the back door and settle down on the steps with his pipe. Her heart fluttered as she thought of the consequences should he catch the Indians there. She knew there was a pond nearby that was out of sight of the house and the Indians would probably pass it on their way. She hastened to the pond to intercept them.

The water seemed black and dangerous in the darkness, but Mandie sat down on a fallen log nearby to wait. After walking around in circles before deciding to curl up and sleep, Snowball softly purred in her lap.

Uncle Ned saw her first. He came quietly to stand at her side.