Read Freedom's Price Online

Authors: Michaela MacColl

Freedom's Price (17 page)

Looking past her, the man shouted, “Jimmy, grab her!”

There was another one? Eliza turned to face the second man, but he had already pinned her arms behind her back. She jabbed her elbow backward into his stomach; he was a big man and that was as high as her elbow could reach. He grunted, but his grip didn't loosen for an instant. She kicked back but her captor only held her tighter.

“She bit me!” the first man whined, examining his bloody arm.

“Oh, poor Amos, did the little colored girl hurt you?” Jimmy asked. His breath was foul and warm next to Eliza's cheek. She twisted and kicked, but his hands held her like a vise.

“Just watch her. She's sneaky.” The man called Amos held a gray sack in his hand.

“She'll soon learn better where's she's going,” Jimmy smirked.

“What do you want with me?” Eliza panted.

Without any warning, Amos slapped her hard with the back of his hand. “Shut your mouth,” he demanded, then slipped the sack over her head. Eliza couldn't see anything. The smell of mildew and rot filled her nose. She clawed at her throat as a drawstring pulled snug around her neck. Her screams were muffled by the cloth.

A loop of rope was dropped over her wrists. She gasped as the rope was jerked tight, cutting into her skin. Hands bound in front of her, Eliza was picked up and tossed over a man's shoulder. She heard the gate being unlocked and then a squeak as it opened and closed. After a few steps, Eliza was
dropped onto a wooden surface. She landed so hard, she felt her whole side bruising.

A heavy cloth landed across her body. It had the familiar greasy feel of a buffalo hide. Smothered under the hide, she felt more helpless than she ever had in her life. Her wrists were burning from the ropes, and her eyes were filled with dirt. She was breathing fast but not getting enough air. She forced her lungs to slow down. All of Ma's warnings flooded her mind, each worse than the last. Eliza had heard them but had never believed it could happen to her. “I'm sorry, Ma,” Eliza whispered, then started to cry.

But Ma wouldn't expect Eliza to just give up. Breathing slowly, in and out, after a few minutes she was able to think clearly.
Who are these men? Are they slave catchers? What are they going to do with me?
She had to pay attention if she was going to get out of this. A horse jangled in its harness. She was in the bed of a wagon, she decided. The wagon shook as the two men climbed onto the wagon seat. A crack of the whip, and they were moving. From the alley next to the Charlesses' house, they turned right—heading away from the city's center. After a few more turns, Eliza lost her bearings. The deserted streets were too quiet to give her any clues to where they were going.

The wagon climbed a hill. Eliza's body started to slide to the back of the wagon. A hand grabbed her and pulled her forward.

“Lie still or you'll regret it,” a voice growled above her. It sounded like Amos—the one she had bitten.

Eliza didn't move. Now that she was closer to the driver's seat, she could make out what her abductors were saying.

“Where are we going?” Amos asked.

“We have to meet Bartlett outside the city limits,” Jimmy answered.

Reuben Bartlett!
The slave catcher had set his sights on her. Eliza almost gave up hope; she was going to the auction block for sure.

The wagon wheels bounced over city cobblestones, then brick and finally dirt.
We must be out of the city by now
, she thought. The wagon stopped and the men jumped out. There was a rumble of indistinguishable voices. Suddenly the weight of the buffalo skin was lifted off her, and she was dragged by her feet from the wagon.

“You better have the right girl,” Bartlett warned. The sound of his voice turned Eliza's knees to water. She would have fallen without the rough hands holding her upright.

“If they followed instructions, this is the only girl it can be.” The thin nasally voice was familiar too, but Eliza couldn't place it.

Fingers fumbled at her throat, loosening the drawstring. Then with a sharp tug, the bag was pulled from her head. Eliza blinked in the bright light, trying to shield her eyes with her hands. They were in a field of fragrant clover. Two horses were tethered to the wooden fence. She glanced behind her to see a rickety wagon hitched to a broken-down mare. That's how she had been transported. But why here?

“That's her,” the second man said.

Eliza's head jerked. “Frank Sanford? You had me kidnapped?”

Frank put his face close enough to hers that she could smell the bourbon on his breath. “It's not kidnapping when you're my property.”

Her eyes darting between Bartlett and Frank, Eliza cried, “I was born on the Mississippi River. That means I'm free.” She spit in his face. Frank slapped her, but she didn't even flinch. Her cheek stinging, she held her head high.

Bartlett hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and leaned back, examining her like a piece of meat at the butcher. “Slavery goes through the mother. If your ma ain't free, then neither are you.”

“You know we're freedom litigants. Mr. Martin told you to leave us alone.” The fact that she was here, trussed like a chicken, meant that Bartlett didn't care a hill of beans about Mr. Martin, but Eliza needed time to figure a way out. Her wrists were bound, but her legs were free. Maybe she could run. But she wouldn't get twenty paces with men on horseback chasing her.

Bartlett pulled out a cigar and trimmed it with his knife as though he didn't have a care in the world. “Little girl,” he said, “what you don't understand is that a freedom litigant has to abide by the rules. You aren't allowed past the city line, which is about one hundred feet in that direction.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“But I didn't come here willingly,” she protested. “You kidnapped me.”

Bartlett waved her ideas away. “You are clearly in violation of the court's order. No judge will protect you now. Your rightful owner, Mr. Sanford, can reclaim you.”

“It's Mrs. Emerson, the doctor's widow, who owns us!” Eliza couldn't believe these words were coming from her mouth. “No matter what he told you, Frank Sanford has no rights to me at all!”

“Eliza, Eliza,” Frank mocked, shaking his head in the most arrogant way possible. “If only that were so. But I have a letter from Auntie. She knew I needed money, so she gave you to me for my birthday.” He held out his hands as though it was inevitable. “And I'm selling you to Bartlett here.”

Eliza locked her knees to keep from trembling all over. “If that were true, Mr. Bartlett, you wouldn't have to kidnap me!”

“I don't kidnap. I catch fugitives. You were fleeing the city and the court's jurisdiction.” He suddenly seemed to lose interest in Eliza. He pulled a wad of banknotes from his pocket and handed it to Frank. “That's what we agreed on.”

Frank eagerly counted the money and then carefully put it in his wallet. “It's enough to stake me a gold claim.” He handed Bartlett a piece of paper. Without a second glance at Eliza, he walked to his horse and swung up into the saddle. Frank struck the horse with a crop on his flank and sped off toward the city.

With that paper, no one would question Bartlett. Panic threatened to close Eliza's throat, but the rest of her body couldn't stop shaking.

“What are you waiting for?” Bartlett snapped. “Take her to the ship.” He paused. “Be careful who sees her. I don't want any trouble with the sheriff. The ship leaves tomorrow at first light, and I'm traveling with it.” He headed for his horse.

As Jimmy approached her with the gray sack, Eliza said desperately, “I'm not a slave. I have rights.”

Jimmy's answer was a bark of mean laughter.

“If you bring me to my father, he'll give you a reward.”

Amos shoved the bag over her head. “As if we'd dare cross Bartlett.”

Eliza was picked up and tossed into the wagon like a piece of garbage.

C
HAPTER
Twenty

E
LIZA WAS SORE IN EVERY PART OF HER BODY
. T
HE ROPES CUT
into her skin like a knife. For an instant she almost gave up. Her captors were much stronger than she was. What could a weak girl like her do to save herself?

In the darkness, she imagined Pa's comforting voice saying,
What couldn't a girl like Eliza do?

She couldn't let Pa down. And what about Ma? All those years of taking such care of Eliza. Was Eliza going to throw that away? No. She was going to get out of this mess and find her way back to her family. But how?

Trying to ignore her bruises and aches, she considered everything she knew. To reach the river, they would have to go down Front Street and then to the northern end of the levee
.
She wouldn't be far from the shantytown. If Eliza could get out of the wagon, she could lose Jimmy and Amos in the maze of shanties.

First the sack on her head had to be removed. She couldn't
run if she couldn't see. Making only tiny movements, Eliza drew her bound hands to her neck. Her fingers felt the knot of the drawstring. Amos hadn't retied it very tightly, and she was able to loosen it without too much trouble. She was grateful now for the buffalo hide since it concealed what she was doing. Eliza dragged the sack off her head.

She waited until she heard wooden planking rattle under the weight of the wagon. They were at the docks. Sure enough, she heard familiar noises of the ships creaking at their moorings and the birds calling as they swooped over the river. Gently she drew her knees to her chest, catching the buffalo hide between her feet. When she was ready, she could pull the hide off in an instant.

“Which one is it?” Jimmy asked.

“The third one from the north end,” Amos said. “And a good thing. There's not many people down here. Remember Bartlett's orders.”

“He's always a nasty bastard,” Jimmy said. “But lately it's like the devil has him by the tail.”

“He needs this shipment to be smooth. He lost money on that girl who died in jail. And since the cholera, there's no auctions.”

Eliza braced herself to move when the wagon stopped. Quick as a whip, Eliza yanked the buffalo hide away from her body. She vaulted over the wagon wall, using her bound hands to propel herself off the side of the wagon. Amos shouted a warning to Jimmy. Eliza's legs almost buckled beneath her, but she managed to start running north. Just a little
farther and they would never find her in the shantytown. The thudding of footsteps behind her made her run faster. She was close to the first of the shanties. Just a few more yards and she'd be . . .

A heavy hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her backward to the ground.

“No!” Eliza screamed. “Help!”

Eliza tried to crawl away, but Jimmy grabbed her dress, ripping the skirt. Eliza's hand found a branch, and she whacked blindly behind her. Jimmy caught it with his free hand and easily pulled it from her grip. Eliza dug her fingers in the sandy dirt, anything to keep them from taking her. Jimmy finally pinned her arms to her side, her cheek pressed in the dirt. Her eyes full of tears, she saw Amos's feet approach.

“She's a hellcat,” Jimmy said, panting.

“I told you,” Amos replied. He dropped the buffalo hide to the ground. Together they picked Eliza up. She arched her back and tried to twist out of their grip but they held her down on top of the hide. She kicked at their shins and clawed at their faces, but together they were too strong for her. They rolled her up like a cigar. She was so mad she could spit.

“Bartlett's asking for trouble with this one,” Amos said, slamming her body with his booted toe.

“Once she's on board, she's his problem.”

Eliza's hands were pressed against her chest so hard they hurt. But the men had made a mistake by leaving her head
free. “Help! Help me!” she screamed, until Amos stuffed a foul rag into her mouth. She gagged and threw up a little, but the rag forced the sick back down her throat.

Amos led the way up the gangplank while Jimmy carried Eliza slung over his shoulder. Her head hung upside down and she felt ill. She caught a glimpse of the name on the side of the ship. It was the
Mameluke
.

The
Mameluke
was Wilson's ship! She still had a chance. But the ship was deserted—how could she get a message to him?

Eliza had an idea. Bending her neck and stretching her fingers as far as she could, she caught the end of the precious ribbon Wilson had given her between her fingertips. She tugged it loose. It was Wilson's first and only gift to Eliza; if she could drop it in a place he would see, he would recognize it and come looking for her.

If he was even on board. If he saw it before the ship sailed. If no one tossed it in the river. So many
if
s.

Amos lit a lantern and gestured for Jimmy to go below deck. Eliza dropped the ribbon at the top of the stairs. She felt a little better knowing she'd done something to help herself.

Jimmy lumbered down the narrow stairs, complaining all the way. Eliza's head banged against the railing; she bit her lip rather than give Jimmy the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. They went down another narrower set of stairs to a wooden door with a mortise lock. Amos opened the door.
The room was dark, lit only by the lantern in Amos's hand. Jimmy tossed Eliza onto the floor.

“Take the hide,” Amos reminded Jimmy. “It's not our job to give her a fine blanket for her trip.”

A mean smile on his face, Jimmy grabbed the edge of the hide and pulled hard. Eliza rolled out, scraping her face against the rough wooden floor. The floor smelled of bilge water and rot. Jimmy handed the hide to Amos, then pulled a big bowie knife from his belt and waved it in front of Eliza's face. She shrank back, staring at the wicked blade.

Jimmy laughed at her. At that moment, she promised herself she wouldn't let them see her afraid again. “If you scream, I'll gut you,” he warned. He cut the cloth holding her gag. Eliza spat out the tar-soaked rag.

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