“Yes,” she replied. But the baby was still screaming, and she focused all her attention on him as she tried to soothe him.
Grady looked around. Injured men lay everywhere, moaning softly. He could see daylight through a gash in the ship’s hull. And crumpled beneath that hole, lay three bloodied bodies. One of them was Joseph’s.
“No … oh, no …” Grady breathed. He wove his way through the tangle of wreckage to kneel by his friend’s side. “Joe! Joe, can you hear me? Are you okay?”
Joseph turned to Grady, staring at him with dazed eyes. He smiled faintly. “I guess I’m still this side of glory, if you’re here,” he murmured. “But I think I’ve been hit.”
“Where?” Grady saw blood all over the front of Joseph’s jacket, oozing from a jagged tear above his belt. He gently loosened the buttons, then tried to hide his horror when he saw the gaping wound in the middle of Joe’s stomach. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said, willing it to be true. “I’m gonna find you a doctor.”
Joe grabbed his arm to stop him before he could rise. “Are your wife and baby okay?”
Grady bit his lip. “Yeah. Just shook up.”
Joe’s grin broadened. “She’s real pretty, Grady. How come you never told me you was married?”
Grady wondered how Joe could be talking about this now, with a hole blown through his gut. Then he realized that he probably needed a distraction from his pain. Grady took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I never told you … I’m sorry. I guess I just don’t like talking about myself, much.”
“God answered our prayer, Grady. You found your wife.”
Grady didn’t realize that he had reacted until Joe’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?” Joe asked. “Why’re you frowning like that? Don’t you believe that it was God who helped you?”
“Yes, I believe it,” Grady replied. “But you said God answered
our
prayer. And I didn’t pray, Joe. I was too afraid to pray. He answered
you
.”
Joe’s grip on his arm tightened. “Don’t you be listening to that old devil when he tells you God can’t forgive you. It’s a lie, Grady. Okay?”
He nodded, unable to speak.
A moment later, Captain Metcalf knelt beside them. “How are you doing, Joe?”
“He needs a doctor,” Grady said before Joe could reply. “Where is he?”
The captain hesitated. “He’s taking care of Colonel Higginson at the moment. The colonel was hit, too.”
Grady felt a surge of nausea. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“Let’s hope so. Listen, I’ll make sure the doctor sees Joe, next.”
Grady returned to Anna’s side when the doctor finally arrived, unable to watch as he probed Joseph’s wound, afraid to ask him if he thought Joe might die.
An hour later, the battered ship finally reached Wiltown Bluff. Grady helped transfer his friend and all of the other wounded men onto the
John Adams
, since it could make the trip to Beaufort much faster than the other two vessels. Anna and the other refugees moved with them, joining the noisy throng of slaves who had been rescued earlier that morning. Anna looked exhausted as she sat huddled in the hold with their baby, sitting between piles of bedding and other belongings.
“Why don’t you try and rest for a while?” Grady said. But no sooner had he spoken, than he heard the unmistakable sound of artillery exploding. The Rebels were attacking the ship from their shore batteries again, as it continued the journey downriver.
“Is this ever going to end?” Anna wept as missiles whistled through the air above them.
“Yes,” Grady promised, cradling her in his arms. “This ship is stronger and faster than the other one was. We’ll get through this, soon—and you’ll be free.”
She flinched as cannons roared and thundered all around them. “What’s it like, Grady? Being free?”
He leaned his head against hers, kissing her hair. “Imagine you and me together like this … and nobody telling us we can’t be. Imagine working and doing things for each other and for our son, all day long, instead of for somebody else. You can go wherever you want to go, and do whatever you please without nobody ever stopping you. I can buy you the biggest pile of paper you’ve ever seen, and you can draw pictures all day long if you want to—and you won’t even have to squeeze them all together on one page.” He held her tighter as a bomb exploded nearby. “And freedom means that this little boy of ours can grow up into a man without ever knowing what it’s like to be somebody’s slave.”
“I’m so glad you came back for me!” She was silent for a long moment, then said, “Grady … I’m sorry I didn’t go with you, before. I’m so sorry for being scared.”
“That’s all behind us now,” he said, kissing her again. “Let’s not be talking about it no more.”
Once again, the ship steamed past the Rebel battery and moved safely out of range. Grady finished filing off Anna’s shackles, then fixed a bed for her on his army blanket. He stayed with her until she fell asleep with their son beside her. But Grady was too uneasy to sleep. He went out onto the quarterdeck, where all the injured soldiers were, and searched for Joseph.
“How you doing?” he asked when he found him.
“Better,” Joe said weakly. “The morphine helps.”
Grady cleared his throat. “Listen, I never thanked you for helping me rescue my wife today. And I’m real sorry that I made fun, the other day, when you read me that Bible verse about being afraid of what man can do—”
“Hey, forget it, Grady. I meant what I said. I ain’t afraid of dying. I’ll be going home to see my heavenly Father. We’re all free up there, you know.”
Once again, Grady shuddered when he recalled Joseph’s certainty that Coop was in hell. “Just don’t be getting in a hurry to go to heaven, okay?” Grady said. “You’re gonna make it. They’re gonna fix you up good as new when we get to Beaufort.”
Grady looked around at all the other injured men and swallowed. He might easily have been one of them. “You needing anything, Joe? A drink of water or something?”
Joe shook his head.
Grady remembered the day he’d met Joe—his first day of freedom—and how Joe had offered him a drink from his canteen. “Mind if I sit here with you for a while?” Grady asked.
“You might have to listen to me preach, you know.”
“That’s okay. I’m getting used to it.”
Joe closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again he met Grady’s gaze. “Are you gonna stay mad at God forever?” he asked softly. “I know you been through a lot in your lifetime, but God never stopped loving you, Grady. He heard your cries all that time. And He had His own reasons for not answering the way you wanted Him to. He just couldn’t explain it in a way you’d understand.”
Grady remembered the baby’s frightened cries this afternoon, and how he’d pleaded with his son to trust him. Maybe God really hadn’t abandoned Grady years ago in Richmond. Maybe it was just like Delia had said—God wanted to use all the hardships Grady had endured to lead him and so many others to freedom. The generals who were overseeing the war could see the picture so much clearer than the men on the front lines.
“You’re gonna do great things for God, Grady. I know it,” Joseph said. “That’s why the devil’s making you suffer so much—just like Job.”
Grady shook his head, still not ready to believe that he would ever have as much faith as Joseph did. “No, you’re the preacher, Joe. Not me,” he said. “That’s why you have to get better.”
Grady was relieved to learn that his friend was still in stable condition when they docked in Beaufort the next day. Ambulances met the ship at the wharf, and Grady helped carry the wounded men off first. He was dismayed to see Colonel Higginson lying pale and wounded on one of the stretchers. Captain Metcalf crouched down to speak with him, and Grady overheard Higginson say, “When I think of the slaves we rescued, I know that the day was worth all it cost, and more.”
Grady gazed out at the gray-blue water to stop his tears. Higginson—a white man—thought Grady’s wife and son worth dying for.
When he’d pulled himself together again, Grady hurried down belowdecks to fetch Anna. He had been dreading this moment, knowing that he would have to abandon the two of them on the wharf and return to camp with the other soldiers. How could he bear to leave Anna? She had never been on her own before, without Missy Claire telling her what to do.
He was still weighing what to say to her when Captain Metcalf came alongside him and clapped his hand on Grady’s shoulder. “Take two days’ leave, son. Get your family settled.”
Grady closed his eyes. The relief he felt staggered him. But more than that, a white man had shown sympathy for him and his family. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “Thank you so much.”
L
et this be written for a future generation, that a people not
yet created may praise the Lord: “The Lord looked down
from his sanctuary on high, from heaven he viewed the
earth, to hear the groans of prisoners and release those
condemned to death.”
Psalm 102:18–20
NIV
Beaufort, South Carolina
July 1863
It felt funny to Anna to be off the ship and standing on dry land again—and so strange to be back in Beaufort without Missy Claire. The sun was very warm as it shone down from the cloudless sky and glared off the water, but she couldn’t seem to stop trembling. “Where are we gonna go?” she asked Grady. He didn’t reply.
All the other soldiers lined up to march back to their camp, but she’d heard the white officer telling Grady that he could spend two days with her. She wondered what would happen after that. Anna wished Grady could stay with her and their baby from now on, but she knew that he couldn’t. He was still a soldier. They would still have to live apart.
A group of white ladies from a church up north had gathered all of the other rescued slaves together, promising them food and a place to stay if they came to the mission on St. Helena Island. They said that they could learn to read and write there, too. Anna wondered if it was true. But Grady took her arm and led her away, toward Bay Street, before she had a chance to hear more.
“Where are we going?” she asked again.
“To Massa Fuller’s house.”
Anna froze, clutching little George to her chest.
“It’s okay,” Grady said gently. “There ain’t nobody there but Minnie and Jim. Missy Claire ain’t coming back here as long as the Yankees are in town.”
Anna knew that she had no other choice. The baby needed diapers and blankets and things, and she had escaped with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had already torn up her apron and petticoat to swaddle him on the ship. Maybe it would feel like home to be living in their room above the stable again, with the sweet smell of hay and horses. But when they reached the town house, Grady led her toward the back door, not the stable. She halted again.
“Why are we going in there?”
Grady’s arm tightened around her shoulder. “Because that’s where you and our son are going to live.” He knocked on the door, and when no one answered, he opened it himself and led her inside. He shrugged off his knapsack and propped his rifle beside it near the door.
There were plenty of signs that the house was occupied—the curtains were open, Minnie’s shawl lay draped over a chair, the aroma of bacon filled the air—but at the moment, no one was home. It was strangely quiet. Anna felt as though, any moment now, Missy Claire would yell at her to come upstairs, or would emerge from one of the rooms barking orders.
“I don’t think I can stay here,” she said.
“Anna, listen—”
“No, Missy Claire is everywhere, Grady. Everything reminds me of her.”
“But you don’t have to be afraid of her no more. You ain’t her slave. You’re free.”
“I know. I ain’t scared of her,” Anna said, struggling to put her feelings into words. “I’m scared of the way I feel about her. I hate her, Grady. When she said she would sell our son or throw him into the river, I wanted to kill her. And now that I’m here in her house, all those feelings are coming back again.”
Grady closed his eyes. “I know. It ain’t easy changing the way you feel. But Delia used to say that hating people was like drinking poison and expecting them to die.” He smiled faintly and said, “Come upstairs with me.” He rested his hand on her back and gently urged her forward, moving up the steps and into one of the guest bedrooms. He gestured to the four-poster bed. “I slept here after escaping last fall,” he said. “Did you ever sleep in a bed like this? It’s as soft as a cloud, Anna, not all scratchy like cornshucks. Which bed do you want our boy to be sleeping in? Go look at our room above the stable, then tell me if you think he deserves that one—or this one.”
“This one,” she said fiercely. “He’s every bit as good as Missy Claire’s son.”
“I know. And you’re just as good as Missy Claire—better, in fact.” He stroked his fingers down her cheek. “You would never be throwing her baby into the river. You deserve to sleep here, too.” He gestured to the bed and said, “Lay him down on there for a while. Your arms must be tired of holding him.” She hesitated, afraid to relive the terrible experience of losing him, of having her arms emptied.
“It’s okay,” Grady said. “I promise you that nobody will ever be taking him away from you again. Trust me.” Anna did trust him. He had returned for her and their son. He had brought them here to safety. She bent and laid the baby on the bed. He squirmed for a moment, then fell asleep again.
“He’s a fine-looking boy,” Grady said hoarsely. “What’s his name?”
“I’m calling him George.”
“No!”
Grady shouted so loudly that the baby startled awake. But Anna moved to soothe her husband first, resting her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart pounding against his ribs.
“Grady, what’s wrong?”
“Why did you name him
that
?”
“I-it was my daddy’s name. What’s wrong? Please tell me … what’s wrong?”
She watched as he struggled for control. “George Fletcher was my first massa’s name—my father’s name.”
“Oh, Grady … I can change it—”
“No,” he said, exhaling. “No. I don’t want you to do that. Your daddy died trying to help you escape. He was a good man who loved you. You’re the baby’s mama, and you should name him whatever you want.”