Midnight Rescue (10 page)

“I think so,” Libby said.

But Gran went on. “Let’s imagine what would happen if a slave catcher saw a fugitive enter a station—a house where people hide runaway slaves. The slave catcher might not pounce there. He could watch and wait till that slave went on to the next station, and the next, and the next. If the fugitive and the people who helped him didn’t hide what they were doing, a slave catcher would soon know a whole route. And he’d know the conductors—the people like Caleb who take fugitives from one station to the next.”

The idea upset Gran so much that sparks of anger lit her eyes. Wiping the flour from her hands, she dropped down on a chair next to Libby.

“It’s secrecy that makes the Underground Railroad work, Libby. I know the people who send runaway slaves to me. I know how to send fugitives to the next person. That’s all I
need
to know. Someone like Caleb knows many more people and places. But probably only a few people know the main routes across Iowa.”

“You know only what you need to know,” Libby said slowly.

“It’s better that way,” Gran said. “Otherwise, if one person
gives something away, there could be a great number of people who get hurt.”

Libby felt afraid to tell Gran her dream, yet it spilled out. “I wanted to help Jordan’s family. I want to help many runaway slaves. But look what I did!”

No longer did Libby believe she could do anything she set out to do. Instead, she knew how easily she could fail. Because of that, being part of the Underground Railroad seemed even more difficult—even impossible.

Suddenly Libby wished she could take the first train to Chicago.
I want to go back to living with Auntie Vi. I want to be where life is easier, even if it isn’t as exciting.

Gran covered the pans with towels, then sat down again. “You want to run, don’t you?” she asked as if she guessed Libby’s thoughts. “You want to give up and forget about the whole problem of slavery.”

Libby stared at her. “How did you know?”

“Because I’ve often thought the same thing. It would be much simpler not being involved. I wouldn’t have to watch every word I say. I wouldn’t be so afraid for Caleb.”

“You’re afraid?” Libby asked.

“Often I’m afraid,” Gran answered. “Caleb is my only grandson.”

“Then why do you let him be part of the Underground Railroad?”

When Gran spoke, Libby knew she had often thought about her answer. “For every one of us there comes a time when we make a choice about what we believe,” Gran said. “We don’t know how it’s going to affect our life or the people we love. When I made my choice, I said to myself, ‘Slavery
for any human being is wrong. I’m going to do what I can to change it.’”

“Was it hard for you—at first, I mean?”

“It’s still hard.” Gran’s smile reached her eyes. “You see, I was involved in the Underground Railroad before Caleb. That’s why Caleb got involved. He was only nine years old, but he caught on to what I was doing.”

“So your choice became his.”

“He chose for himself,” Gran explained. “But I don’t know if he would have made that choice if I hadn’t.”

“Strange,” Libby said. She thought back to the day when Caleb took her to the slave auction in St. Louis. “I wouldn’t have wanted to help if Caleb hadn’t opened my eyes.”

Gran nodded. She understood that too. “Since I decided to help fugitives, my life has never been the same. I haven’t succeeded at everything I’ve tried. But I haven’t lost a passenger.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Tears welled up in Libby’s eyes again. “I’ve already failed. I even put Jordan’s life in danger.”

“Have you told God you’re sorry?” Gran asked.

Libby shook her head. “He doesn’t like me.”

“Oh, Libby!” Gran exclaimed. “Why do you think that?”

Libby found it hard to explain, but when she tried, the words tumbled out. “I thought if I became a Christian that I’d say and do all the right things. Instead—” Libby stopped, unable to go on. As she began to weep, she turned away from Gran. But Gran’s arms surrounded her, holding Libby tight. When she finally stopped crying, Gran’s voice was soft.

“There’s a secret you need to know, Libby. Just because you’re a Christian doesn’t mean your life will be easier, or that
you’ll be perfect. But if you let Him, God will help you with whatever you face.”

“Then everything will be okay?”

“Not quite,” Gran said. “Sometimes we have to live with what happens because of what we did.”

“You mean Jordan and his family might still suffer because of what I did.”

Gran nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“And there’s nothing I can do to change that?”

“Pray,” Gran said. “See if God brings something good out of this. All right?”

Libby found it hard to believe that something good could possibly come from what she had done. But if Gran said so,
maybe
it was true.

When Libby stood up to go, she was no longer afraid to look into Gran’s blue eyes. “Thanks,” Libby said softly. Her shoulders no longer slumped, and she held her head a bit higher.
Maybe I understand Jordan’s proud look just a little better. He’s not proud in the wrong way. He just knows how God can help him
.

When Libby stepped out on the deck, the eastern sky was pink.
A new day
, Libby thought. She breathed deeply. The fresh morning air brought comfort to her heart.
Maybe the most important thing about failing is what I learn from it
.

It was too early in the morning to set things right with Caleb and Jordan, but Libby’s thoughts leaped ahead.
Okay. So I can’t go on the trip. But I’m going to believe that Jordan’s family will get here safely. If they do, what will they need?

When Libby reached the texas deck, she realized that Samson
was still trailing her. As he swished his big muzzle in his bowl of water, Libby opened the door of her room. She took one look at her quilts and knew what to do. Once before she had given them away. Now they were back, washed and clean—ready for someone who might need them more than she did.

Again Libby thought ahead. It might be hard sneaking Jordan’s family on board and into the secret hiding place. When they came, they could be wet and cold from walking in rain. What if it was impossible to give them something warm?

This would be a good time
, Libby thought.
Most of the passengers are still sleeping. But how can I carry quilts so that no one guesses what I’m doing?

More than once Caleb had warned Libby that there were Southern sympathizers on board—people who supported the idea of slavery. One of these people was Bates, the first mate. Libby’s stomach tightened with dread just thinking about him. But there was an even bigger problem—the man who tried to catch Jordan during the night—and Libby didn’t know who he was.

Then Libby remembered that her father had warm wool blankets. It would take two trips to carry her quilts and his blankets. That meant twice as much chance of being seen.

Going out on deck, Libby looked around. As she tried to decide what to do, Samson nudged his empty food bowl. With a quiet
woof
he reminded her that he was hungry.

Suddenly Libby laughed. Newfoundland dogs were known for helping people carry loads. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you food,” she told Samson. “But you’ll have to work for it.”

Libby told the dog to stay, then raced down the steps. In the engine room she got pieces of rope and flew back up the
stairs. Quickly she rolled her quilts as tightly as she could, then tied rope around them. In Pa’s cabin she did the same with his blankets.

On his bed she left a note.

Back outside again Libby put her father’s blankets on Samson’s back. Carefully she balanced the load so it wouldn’t be hard for the dog on the stairs. “As soon as we’re done, you get to eat,” Libby promised.

Down the few steps from the texas to the hurricane deck Libby went, then down the longer flight to the boiler deck. Samson followed her as if he did this every day of his life. On the main deck, Libby walked into the cargo room behind the stairs. Close to the door into the engine room was a small but heavy-looking piece of machinery. As though to give it more strength, the machine was mounted on a piece of wood.

Libby glanced around.
No one in sight
.

Her fingers awkward with hurry, Libby untied the blankets. Kneeling down, she pushed the wood base under the machine. When it moved to one side, she pulled up the hatch underneath. Quickly she tossed Pa’s blankets down the hole. With a thud they landed on the floor of the hull, five feet below.

Just as quickly Libby closed the opening and pulled the machine back in place. As she stood up, she heard footsteps. Libby took her place next to Samson and started walking. A moment later Mr. Bates appeared.

“Good morning, Miss Libby,” he said.

“Good day, Mr. Bates,” Libby answered.

“Up bright and early, aren’t you? Exercising your dog?”

Libby gulped, remembering she should not lie.

“See how he’s learning to mind me?” she asked instead. Telling Samson to stay, she walked toward the door that lead to the forward deck. There she turned and called.

Samson came to her at once, and Libby kept walking. In spite of the cool morning she felt warm with nervousness.

Another trip still
, she thought, dreading the idea.

Back on the texas deck again, she piled her quilts on the Newfoundland’s back. “I’m training you to carry loads, Samson,” she said. “If anyone asks, you remember that.”

Once again Libby started out. As she passed onto the boiler deck she found first-class passengers coming out of their rooms to take their exercise. More than once someone smiled at her and Samson. Giving a quick wave, Libby smiled back but kept going.

When she reached the main deck again, Libby looked around. Sure enough, Bates stood there as if waiting for her. Instead of turning into the cargo room, Libby started around the corner to the side deck. Wherever there was enough space, she walked, called for Samson to follow, then praised him when he did.

“Good dog. Good boy, Samson. You’re learning fast,” Libby said, loudly enough for Bates to hear.

For at least fifteen minutes Libby waited for the first mate to leave. Finally she headed for Gran’s kitchen to get Samson his food. When he finished eating, Libby returned to the forward deck.

To her disappointment Bates was still there. Whenever she
glanced his way, Libby saw him looking toward her. At last he seemed to grow tired of watching her. But when he walked up the steps, he turned around when he reached the boiler deck. Just before passing through the doors into the main cabin, he turned again. This time Libby smiled and waved.

Bates was too dignified to wave back. With his back straight and his shoulders stiff, he marched into the dining room.

The minute he disappeared, Libby hurried into the cargo room. With trembling fingers she untied her quilts. Once more she glanced around, making sure that no one watched. Then she pushed aside the machine and pulled up the secret hatch.

As she picked up a quilt to throw it down the hole, she heard a door open.

CHAPTER 8