Escape by Night (4 page)

Samson barked.

“Good dog,” Red said. He opened the book. “I'll read you a dream I had on the battlefield.”

A man on a nearby cot was softly playing a fiddle, and it seemed to Tommy like the perfect music for a dream.

“I am traveling down a long road covered with leafy trees. I am carrying something fragile, and all around me is danger. I come to a big hole in the road, and I cannot pass. A sadness comes over me, because my mission might fail.”

Red paused.

“Go on,” Tommy urged, but Red would not be hurried.

“Out of the woods steps an angel. The angel shows me a bridge. If I cross, my mission will be complete.”

Red stopped.

“Did you cross the bridge?” Tommy asked.

“I don't know. The dream ended.”

“What was the dream about? Were you on a mission?”

“You could say that.”

“What was the big hole?” Tommy asked.

“An obstacle.”

Tommy's heart beat faster. “And danger is all around you.” He swept his arms out to take in the entire sanctuary.

“That's right.”

Tommy couldn't stand it any longer. He blurted out, “Are you a Yankee?”

Red's eyes did not leave Tommy's face. His answer was simple. “Yes.”

For a moment, Tommy was speechless, then he whispered loudly, “You aren't supposed to be here. This is the South!”

“I didn't have much choice in the matter.”

Tommy studied Red. “You look like a regular person.”

“I am. I just want to get back to my family in Ohio. Tommy, I have a two-year-old little boy I haven't seen in over a year. I need an angel.”

“Like in the dream?” Tommy said.

“Yes,” Red said. “I have to get out of here soon. That Mrs. Williams keeps asking questions. Next thing you know, some Mississippi boys'll be here, and I'll be found out. Will you help me?”

“That's against the South,” Tommy whispered.

“Tommy, it's not right to keep another person as a slave. Men should be free.”

Tommy paused. He had thought about the states being free, but not the slaves.

“Some slaves are happy,” Tommy said.

“Is Henry happy?”

Tommy could not think of anything good about living with Mr. Barrett. Mr. Barrett was constantly yelling at all his slaves, not just Henry. It would be miserable to live with him.

“We're not fighting about slaves,” Tommy said. “We're fighting because the North is trying to tell us what to do. States should be free.” It didn't sound nearly as good as when he'd heard Marion say it.

“Some folks may not be fighting about slavery, but I am. Slavery is wrong, and I'll give my life to stop it.”

 

“Red may be a Yankee, but I still like him,” Tommy told Samson on the way home. Samson pushed his head into Tommy's hand.

“I guess I'm supposed to turn Red in. But if I do, they might send him to a prison camp. I've heard terrible things about those places.”

“Master Tommy!” Henry caught up with Tommy and Samson.

“You and Samson talkin' serious. Don't forget now. Mercy is a great power,” said Henry.

“Father preaches about mercy. God gives us mercy, even though we don't deserve it,” Tommy said.

Henry nodded. “He sure does. And you know what God expects of you?”

“What?” Tommy asked. That was exactly what he had been wondering.

Henry leaned forward like he was revealing a deep secret. “Micah. Chapter six.”

Tommy thought hard. Micah was a book in the Old Testament. He knew that much. But that was all he remembered.

Henry recited the passage. “What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God?”

“You know as many Bible verses as Father,” Tommy said.

Henry smiled big, showing a row of bright white teeth. “It's the power to help you live right.”

“You make it sound easy,” Tommy said.

“Looooooove mercy, Master Tommy. That's all.” Henry smiled and walked on down Telfair Street.

Henry always smiled, even when things went badly for him. Tommy recalled once a couple of years ago when he and Samson were waiting for his father outside Mr. Barrett's bank. Henry was sweeping the brick walkway. Mr. Barrett kept yelling at him to hurry up. It looked to Tommy like Henry was working as fast as a man could. When he was almost finished, some older boys passed by and kicked dirt onto his clean walk. They laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Mr. Barrett had been watching from the window, and Tommy thought he would chase the boys away. Instead, he charged out with his rifle and pointed it at Henry. Then he cocked it. Samson growled. Tommy held him tight. Henry didn't move. Finally, Mr. Barrett barked, “Get it clean.” Then he laughed and went back inside.

Henry had whispered to Tommy, “I'm waitin' for the blessed hope.”

“Are you going to tell?” The sharp voice brought Tommy abruptly back to the present. He wheeled around to see Annie with that I-know-a-secret look on her face.

“Are you going to tell?” she demanded again.

A bad feeling washed over Tommy. He thought back to the hospital. Several times he had seen Annie watching them. She might have heard what they were saying if she had made an effort, which Tommy now thought she had.

“Tell what?” Tommy asked, trying to sound innocent.

“You know.” Annie looked back at the church as if the building itself were guilty.

Tommy looked too, half expecting to see the devil standing at the door.

“Annie, there is nothing to tell.” Tommy was sure he sounded guilty.

“Tommy, we are at war, and we cannot have Yankees parading around as Confederates. If you don't tell, I will.”

Her words hit like a hammer. She whirled around and started up the steps.

“Annie, wait. I have a deal for you.”

She stopped. “What kind of deal?”

Tommy thought quick. “A good deal.”

“What kind of good deal?”

Tommy was silent.

“Tommy, you don't have a deal. You are just stalling for time.”

“Maybe I am, and maybe I'm not. Maybe I have a really good deal, and you don't know it.”

“All right. I'll give you till tonight. And the deal better be good, or I'm telling.” She marched up the steps and into the house.

Samson had found a bone and was working on it by the steps. Tommy sat down beside him.

“Samson, we're in trouble. We have to come up with something to keep Annie quiet. And on top of that, I'm not even sure we should help Red.”

Samson abandoned his bone and gave Tommy his full attention.

“Remember when the war started? Everyone said how bad the Yankees were.”

Samson stared at Tommy.

“I thought Yankees were bad, too. Maybe some are bad, but I don't think Red is. All he wants is freedom for people like Henry. And to tell the truth, I like the idea of Henry being free.”

Samson gave his bone a sideways glance.

“If I were Henry, I'd want to be free,” Tommy said.

He picked up the bone and handed it to Samson, who anchored it between his paws and began working on it with his back teeth.

“If we don't help Red, he might go to prison. But helping wouldn't be easy. And it's against the law, so I'm not even sure we should.”

Samson paused from his work on the bone.

“Whatever we do, Samson, we need to keep Annie quiet. And I think you just might be the answer.”

 

Annie sat on the sofa fluffing out her dress, like she was the queen and Tommy was her subject.

“Pleeeease don't tell,” Tommy pleaded.

“Tommy, you heard Father last night. We are on the verge of losing the war.”

“One Yankee is not going to matter,” Tommy said.

“I'm not so sure about that.”

Samson came in. Sensing the importance of the conversation, he sat erect between the adversaries and followed the conversation with his head.

“Just promise you won't tell, at least until tomorrow.”

Annie refluffed her dress. “I cannot make such a promise.”

Tommy said, “Yes, you can. Open your mouth and say, ‘I pro—'”

“Tommy, stop it. You said you had a good deal. Now, let's hear it.”

“I'll let Samson sleep in your bed,” Tommy said.

Annie stopped fluffing. “For how many nights?”

“One week.”

“A week? Hmm.”

“Annie, Red has a two-year-old little boy, and he hasn't seen him in a year.”

Annie's brow wrinkled.

Mrs. McKnight came in. “I'm sorry to be late. More refugees came in today. And as if that weren't enough, I was on the other side of the tracks and had to wait for a train to pass.” She removed her bonnet. “Your father has a meeting tonight, so he will not be here for reading. Annie, I believe it is your turn.”

“I don't feel like reading,” Annie said, giving Tommy a sideways glance.

“You love to read,” Mrs. McKnight said. She eyed her children. “What is going on?”