Authors: Judith Plaxton
Morning Star (2 page)
CHAPTER 3Flower
THE FAMILY
sat in a tight
circle and shared bread and fruit. Flower liked the cozy safety of the cave.
“Pa, can't we stay here?”
“Don't be foolish! How could we live here?” His
voice softened as he explained, “Master Chesley is away for business. He won't
realize we're gone till he gets back. We have three days. Mustn't waste them.”
Eldon stood, brushed dirt from his pants. “Finish your meal. I'll scout
outside.” He parted the branches and disappeared.
Flower ate her apple down to the core. Her mother
dug a hole, carefully placed the remains of the fruit in it. “We mustn't leave a
trace,” she said. Baby brother sat with fat little legs splayed out, supporting
him on the dirt floor. Flower rolled a stone toward him, but took it away when
he lifted it toward his mouth.
“No, no, Gabriel, that's dirty.”
Her father returned and said, “Time to leave. Sun's
heading down.” They crept from their hiding place and continued the journey.
Eldon had memorized the location of the North Star and followed it throughout
the night. A sliver of moon provided some light, kept them from walking into
trees.
“Why do you keep looking up at the sky?” Flower
asked her father.
“Look up yourself.” They stopped walking, and Eldon
put his hand on her shoulder and tilted her chin. “Over there,” he said,
pointing. “That group of stars shaped like the long-handled cup that hangs by
the barrelâthe one we drink out of when we're thirsty.”
At first Flower just saw a mass of sparkling light
in the dark velvet sky, but as she followed her father's finger, she recognized
the shape he was talking about.
“If we keep that ahead of us,” he continued, “we'll
be heading north. That's the way we want to goâto Canada.”
“What's Canada?” asked Flower.
“It's a different country, with different laws. We
will be free there.”
Flower tried to imagine being free. “What will it
be like to be free?”
“Lord, don't you ask a lot of questions. I'm hoping
it means I'll get some work and you and Gabriel will get some schooling. We'll
manage our own home and our own lives.”
They started walking again. Flower's curiosity took
another track. “Are there wild beasts here, Papa?”
“It's not the four-legged creatures we need to
fear.”
“But what if I step on a snake?”
“The snake will be sorry.”
“I'm so hungry.”
“Just a bit, then.” Cleo reached into the sack.
They shared bread and water and then resumed their march. The forest thinned,
but the terrain remained stony and steep. As the darkness became light, Eldon
pointed with satisfaction to the wide ribbon of water far below.
“The Ohio River. We'll cross it tonight.”
They searched for cover, settled on a thicket of
bushes. Flower continued her mother's bedtime prayers silently in her head as
she settled for the day's sleep. They lay beneath a canopy of shrubs, she and
her brother nestled between their parents. The branches were thorny, the ground
buggy. Flower started to scratch at her bites, but her father slapped her hand.
“Keep still!” Flower took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly, trying to
ignore the itching. She remembered the icy water of the brook and pictured it
flowing over her limbs.
Sunlight filtered through the foliage and, with the
breeze, created moving patterns against their faces. It had been easier to sleep
in the darkness of the cave.
By early evening, they had left their hiding place,
and with relief, stood and stretched their cramped limbs. They ate a few berries
and almost finished what remained of the drinking water.
“We'll get more when we reach the river.”
“We should be picking fruit. Our food supply is
getting smaller.”
“Be quick then.”
Berries were plucked from the bushes, wrapped in a
cloth, and stored in the sack Flower carried. Then they resumed their trek.
Eldon continued walking in a northerly direction, the guiding star still
visible. Their route, steep in places, took them downhill. Flower started to
slide; her father gripped her arm, providing support. When they found themselves
on a cleared road, Eldon hurried ahead, stopping where the road split in two
directions. A large tree stood in the center of the divided road. Eldon walked
up to the tree and embraced it, felt a nail embedded on the right side. “This
way.”
“How⦠?”
“Shhh!”
Eldon walked quickly. Cleo and Flower rushed to
keep up. They felt uncomfortable on the road, exposed. A fence became visible
and then a farmhouse in the distance. The sudden sound of a dog barking caused
them to freeze. They drew closer together. Both parents flanked Flower in a
protective embrace as they quickly turned and slipped back into the bush
alongside the road. They felt safer there, but bumpy ground and tangled brambles
slowed their travel.
As the sky lightened, they found another grove of
trees and masses of bushes. Together, they added branches, creating shelter to
hide them for another day.
CHAPTER 4Felicia
DELIA DROVE
her daughter to school, stopped in front of the low rectangular building. They looked at the entrance and noted three yellow buses parked in the driveway.
“Find out about the bus system.”
“Okay.”
“I can't be driving you every day.”
“I know.”
“Especially when you're so tardy.”
“I know.”
Delia's tone brightened. “You'll meet all the kids, make new friends.”
“I know, I know, I know.”
“Give me a kiss, then, darlin'. Off you go.”
Felicia planted a kiss on her mother's cheek and stepped out of the car. At the school door, she turned back to wave good-bye, only to see the back of the car already half a block down the street. Felicia steeled herself and walked with an air of pretend calm through streams of laughing, jostling students to the office.
Inside, a gray-haired woman looked up from her computer screen and smiled over her half glasses at Felicia. “Good morning. How may I help you?”
Felicia reached into her knapsack and presented a piece of paper to the woman, who thanked her and asked her to sit and wait. Felicia sank onto a bench. The breakfast toast squirmed in her stomach. To distract her rebellious digestive system, she stared at everything in this school office: the colorful posters, a wall calendar with puppy-dog illustrations, a vase of yellow flowers.
A woman in a red suit jacket and clicking high heels entered from a rear door and picked up a microphone. Her voice echoed throughout the school, welcoming the students, listing coming tryouts for school teams, choirs, and clubs. The national anthem followed her greetings. Those in the office stood at attention, so Felicia did too.
After that, the woman in the red jacket came over and introduced herself. Her handshake was warm, her smile welcoming.
“I'm Mrs. Mackie, the school principal. You're in Grade Eight, right?” She turned to introduce another girl who had entered the office. “Dorothy will take you to your class.” Dorothy looked with interest at Felicia. The two girls left the office and started down the corridor together.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Felicia.”
“Wow, that's so pretty.”
“Dorothy's nice.”
“For an old lady! I don't know what my parents were thinking when they came up with my name. You can call me Dodie. Everybody does.”
Felicia glanced at Dorothy as they walked along, noticed her rosy cheeks, her glossy brown braids held in place with butterfly clips.
“I like the way your hair looks.”
Dorothy turned to examine Felicia's beaded braids. “I've never seen any like yours up close. How do you make them like that, so tiny?”
“My grandmother did it for me.”
They arrived at the classroom door. Dorothy breezed through and Felicia followed, her heart in her throat. She hoped the teacher was nice and wouldn't ask the class to greet her. There was a hum of voices, and nobody stared at her. The teacher put her hand on Felicia's shoulder.
“Attention, everyone! I want you to say hello to your new classmate.”
The room became quiet. A few heads swiveled in Felicia's direction. Someone said “Hi.”
Felicia tried to keep smiling, ignored her churning stomach. She noticed two girls at the back of the room putting their heads together, one with her hand covering her mouth, whispering.
The teacher's hand squeezed her shoulder. “What's your name, dear?”
“Felicia.”
“Lovely. I'm Miss Peabody.” Felicia felt herself propelled toward a desk. “Here's your spot. Have a seat.”
Felicia sat down with relief. Lined notebooks were distributed. Miss Peabody talked and wrote on the board at the same time. When she underlined a word, the chalk broke in the middle of her sentence. She picked up another piece and continued. Felicia tried to pay attention, but her mind was buzzing. She stared straight ahead at the board, but the words meant nothing to her.
Relax. Stay calm.
Felicia's grandmother had advised her to take deep breaths and count to ten when she was upset, so she inhaled deeply. The room was hot and stuffy. Perspiration began to trickle down her side.
I should have just worn the T-shirt instead of all this other stuff.
But it was too late to change her wardrobe, and since she didn't have a locker yet, she had nowhere to put the extra clothes. Felicia pushed the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows and felt some relief. The words on the blackboard began to clear. She started to write them down in her notebook, trying not to pay attention to the whispering behind her, but her hand clenched as she heard the distinct words.
“What is it with the teeny weenie braids?”
“Her hair is so fuzzy.”
“Kind of weird.”
“Totally.”
Chapter 5Flower
THE RIVER
was not as close as Eldon had thought. They scrambled and scraped their way toward it, but it remained elusive in the distance. Flower's father urged them forward, his breathing labored. “Hurry! Hurry!”
“I'm trying to, Pa.”
“Try harder!”
“I'm hurrying as fast as I can.”
“Don't talk back to me, child! We need to move!” He grabbed Flower by the arm. Her feet stumbled over one another, and the skin on her arm burned under his grip.
“She's trying. Why are you being so harsh?” asked Cleo.
“The two of you should be listening to meâ¦I'm doing my best to lead youâ¦and getting nothing but sass.”
“We're doing our best to follow. We're tired. Let's rest for a bit.”
“There's no time, I tell you!” Eldon gave his wife a tug. Startled, she fell in a heap, and the baby began to cry.
“We're your kin, not your slaves. Remember that!” Cleo's eyes blazed up at her husband, then she turned to shush and comfort Gabriel.
Eldon knelt beside his wife. He tried to take her in his arms, but she pushed him away and turned her face to the whimpering baby.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “But time is running outâ¦we have to meet a manâI'm not sure whereâto take us across the river.”
“Will he wait for us?”
“I don't know.”
Flower's parents looked steadily at each other, then Eldon helped his wife to her feet. The family started to walk again. Flower had never seen her father act like that. It frightened her to see him frightened. She knew what fear looked like. She had seen and heard things, back where they'd come from. Sometimes there were cries in the night in the shared bunkhouse. She remembered her mother bathing the bleeding backs of two men who had been beaten after they tried to run away. She knew if the family got caught they could face the same punishment. She wondered if there might be a way for them to slip back to the plantation before their absence had been noticed, and before the master knew what they had done. But her father continued to lead them in another direction.
As the sun came up, she heard the swish of moving water, smelled the dampness of approaching wetland. The ground became muddy, the gumbo sucking at her shoes. Flower unknowingly approached a nest and jumped with alarm as the startled bird shot up into the sky.
“Time for us to make our own nest.” Eldon led them to a tangled grove on higher ground, wearily arranged extra branches for cover. The family settled in.
It was late afternoon when Flower awoke. Without disturbing her parents, she slipped out of their hiding place. Within a few minutes she spotted a felled tree, mossy with age. Flower lifted her skirt and perched on it. A small squirrel scurried through the fallen leaves and sat for a moment with his paws up against his face, filling his cheeks with food. Flower held her hand out to him, but he disappeared under a bush.
She wondered how close they were to the river. Perhaps the man was there. It would be wonderful if Flower saw himâshe could return to her father and tell him that help was waiting. How relieved he would be! She stood and rearranged her clothing and began to walk.
Her feet were noiseless on the carpeted ground. The forest floor was soft and pliable, the trees far apart, beams of light angling between them. She promised herself she wouldn't go far. Her parents might reach for her in their sleep. They would come awake fearful of where she was.
The sound of the rushing river increased. Suddenly, just ahead, she saw a man. He was hunched over the water, bringing his cupped hands up to his mouth, drinking from the river as it flowed by. Flower stood motionless. He turned and looked at her.
She had never seen such a monstrous face: charred dark as if from a fire, lumpy and misshapen. Only one eye was open, and it glared at her. She gasped and spun around, tried to run, but wasn't fast enough. Terror made her clumsy. Within a breath, he was upon her, and a cold, wet hand was clamped against her mouth, stifling her desperate cry for her father.