Read Spirited Away - A Novel of the Stolen Irish Online
Authors: Maggie Plummer
CHAPTER
33
February
1656
Freddy
spotted the "C" on a green flag fluttering atop the sloop's single
mast, and inhaled sharply. It must be him, she thought. The load of sugar cane
bounced as she steered around another deep rut and pulled hard on the donkey
reins to stop the cart. Shading her eyes against the afternoon sun, she stared
at the sloop as it approached from the north, one sail unfurled and catching
the breeze. Colin!
"Mama
stop," Laurie chirped.
Freddy
stroked his silky head as he resumed sucking on a chunk of sugar cane. She
glanced around for Birdie but instead spotted the new driver watching her from
the mill yard. His other hand held the coiled whip. Her stomach lurching, she
scrambled out of the cart and pretended to fix the donkey's bridle. She must be
more careful. It was almost time to return to the cookhouse and prepare supper.
She could tell Birdie then.
As
Freddy jostled toward the mill to deliver the load, along came her friend from
the opposite direction. "Psst," she whispered to Birdie as they
passed in the narrow lane. Carefully holding her hand in front of her chest so
no one else could see, Freddy pointed to the sloop. Birdie gave a mute nod of
her head and continued on, her angular face impassive.
Freddy's
pulse pounded in her temples. She could see it throbbing in her vision. Be
calm, she scolded herself.
Master
had ridden to another slave auction and was not expected back for several days.
It was time to get the crop in, and the plantation was desperately
short-handed. Most of the new slaves had died this past month from yellow
fever. Whittingham had left Sam to oversee the beginning of the harvest. Freddy
was surprised how thoroughly Master trusted the new man. Sam relished being in
charge, taking on airs and demanding that elaborate meals be delivered to his
cottage. He strutted arrogantly before the field slaves and wielded his whip
with a heavy hand.
Freddy
pulled up to the mill and got down to tie the donkey to a post.
"What
do you think you're about?" Sam bellowed, striding over to her.
"It's
time to prepare supper." Freddy kept her eyes on the donkey reins.
"So
soon?" His deep voice boomed.
"Soon!"
Laurie cheerfully echoed from his seat in the cart. Sam peered at him through
narrowed eyes and walked over to the cart. He leaned over Laurie, looked
closely at his face, and very slowly used the whip handle to push the boy's
hair off his forehead.
Laurie
just looked at Sam curiously, blinking several times.
"We
always return to the kitchen at this time," Freddy explained, forcing her
voice to sound unruffled. What was this bronze devil up to? If he tried to hurt
her boy, she'd – why, she'd – she didn't know what she would do, but she would
do something! Watching the whip handle touch Laurie's skin, Freddy hid her
trembling hands in the skirt of her shift. Her drumming pulse was now a
hammering headache. She took a deep breath and looked up at Sam.
"For
what purpose?" The yellow-skinned driver folded his arms in front of his
chest, looked her up and down, and widened his stance. He was enjoying himself.
"We
must milk, start the fire, grind corn, make butter, prepare meat…" She
patted the donkey's neck to busy her shaking hands, clenched her teeth, and
willed herself to behave normally.
Tapping
the whip handle against his palm, Sam leaned in close. "I think you and
your little friend Birdie have it too easy around here," he murmured in
her ear, yanking her chin around to stare into her eyes. "Paulina told me
all about the two of you. I will speak to Master Whittingham about this. I know
your Coromantee men were the ringleaders…"
She
managed to coolly meet his stare. He smelled of tobacco and soap.
He
slid his huge hand down and stroked the base of her throat with one thumb.
Her
nostrils flaring, she lowered her eyes, trapped against the donkey's side.
"That's
right, papist whore," he growled. "Lower those eyes." His hand
moved down to stroke her hip. He tucked the whip into his breeches. Then both
of his hands were on her hips.
Freddy
held her breath, frozen in place.
Laurie
kicked his seat. "Go, go!" he blurted, kicking again and rocking
impatiently. The skin on Freddy's arms prickled with fear as she struggled to
keep her mouth shut. The babe began wailing.
Sam
bent down to look at Kofi in the sling. "Don't cry, tiny slave," he
crooned. "You'll feel my whip soon enough."
As
Freddy again gritted her teeth, the donkey stepped sideways. She patted the
babe's back and tried to back away from Sam.
"Mama,
go!" Laurie continued.
The
tall driver yanked her hips up against his own and held her there until she
could feel him. "I will taste this soon," he snarled.
Her
eyes still lowered, she feigned an unruffled nonchalance.
Sam
released her, and Freddy glimpsed Paulina watching them closely from across the
mill yard, her mouth pulled down into a thin, ugly line of hatred.
"What
will you bring me for supper?" The driver unhurriedly picked his teeth,
again looking Freddy up and down.
"Supper!"
Laurie echoed again in his clear voice.
"Ham,
pine fruit, cornbread, cold tea, and coconut biscuits," Freddy replied in
a dull monotone.
"On
your way then," he muttered grudgingly, still studying her. "Tonight
you are to wash my clothes as well."
Sam
called for some men to unload the cart. Freddy walked briskly toward the
cookhouse, catching her breath and allowing little Laurie to run alongside.
Relieved to have gotten away from Sam, at least for the moment, she shuddered
and hugged the babe. She glanced back. Sam and Paulina were embracing next to
the cane mill, his big hands dark against her white dress. Paulina whispered
something in his ear and he swatted her backside.
A
few minutes later Freddy noticed the driver riding his blond horse toward the
field where the Great Gang was harvesting. When she was certain he was gone,
she glanced around again. The mill yard was empty.
From
here she could see the curving white strand, the shimmering sea, and the sloop.
She studied its massive bowsprit, as long as the vessel itself. Would this ship
take them to a new life? Freddy's fingers tingled with fear and restless
excitement. The time was right to be well away from this hellish place. But she
must take extra care, now that Sam was keeping a close watch on her. It was
strange, as if he sensed what was in her mind.
"What
that?" Laurie asked, pointing to the sea.
"Boat,"
she whispered, looking around again.
"Boat."
The toddler stopped, jammed his fist into his mouth, and watched the sloop with
wide eyes.
Into
her mind flooded the sharp memory of a blue moonlit night years ago, when she
had watched from under a fragrant pine as Colin and the others embarked on
their escape in that overcrowded dinghy. Today the fields and sea were green
and teal in the slanting, golden sun.
She
squatted and hugged Laurie, pressing her face into his tiny shoulder. To see
Colin again, and him with his own sloop! What would he make of her half-African
son? She quaked with anticipation and apprehension. Since the rebellion, a new
Barbados law had been written, calling for runaway slaves to be put to death.
The island had even more militia now, and the planters had hired night
watchmen. Doubt seized Freddy as she questioned the prudence of Colin's plan.
The English could take her children from her. They would hang her if she were
caught trying to escape. God banish the very thought! Her wee ones could be
made to suffer because of her own foolish actions. Freddy rubbed Kofi's back
and squeezed Laurie to her side.
"Owww,"
he whined, squirming away.
"Too
hard?" she whispered. "Sorry…"
"Too
hard!" he mimicked, then grinned and rubbed his nose on her cheek.
She
must be hopeful, and patient. They must wait to hear from Colin. He would send
a message through the Quakers.
The
sun glittered so brightly on the sea, the sloop was a mere silhouette floating
above it. Freddy had seen its flag, though – Irish green with a golden
"C" rippling in the trade wind. Suddenly she stood, shaking her head
and wondering if she had gone completely daft, idling and staring at the sloop
so.
"To
the kitchen with us, then," she told Laurie, cursing herself for being
reckless. "I'll give you a coconut biscuit." From the corner of her
eye, Freddy thought she saw a movement. She whipped around, scanning the yard
where the flash of white had been. Nothing was there. Her head thumping with
the sickening rhythm of a worsening headache, she strode to the cookhouse.
"Hung-eee!"
her tiny son exclaimed, galloping on his imaginary pony next to her. She forced
herself to take a deep breath as her mind darted here and there. Kofi began
wailing again. His sharp cries hit Freddy's aching head like arrows. It was
past time to nurse him. She would do that when they reached the kitchen. Maybe
it would calm her.
Later,
she would speak with Birdie, and also tell Father Tomas. They would take him as
far as Montserrat. The time had come. They had only to await Colin's word.
CHAPTER
34
February
1656
As he
joined the others crouching in the cane below the main road, Father Tomas suddenly
hissed, "The devil take it!"
Freddy
peered through the cane. In the black night, with only stars lighting the clear
sky, she could barely see the priest. It was crucial that they make their way
down to the sloop in absolute darkness. There'd been no sleep for them this
night. Earlier Father Tomas had slipped the night watchman a jug of rum. The
priest had encouraged the man to drink too much, then observed the intoxicated
fellow slumping against a mahogany tree and falling fast asleep. Father Tomas
said they had plenty of time before the drunk awakened. Freddy had crept to
Sam's cottage in the dark. All had been quiet. When she peered through an open
window, she'd seen the driver and Paulina tangled together on his narrow bed,
asleep.
Their
biggest worry was the island's infamous night patrol.
But
there were blessings, Freddy reminded herself. The planned route to the sea
wound through fields of tall cane that would keep them well hidden. They had
the cover of darkness, and narrow lanes to follow through the fields. By
carefully walking along the center of the lanes, they could travel through the
cane without rustling or jostling the plants. But they must be very careful.
She
glanced over at Father Tomas again, and realized that her eyes were adjusting
to the starlight. She could see him clearly now.
Freddy
and Birdie had hoped to make dark cloaks to wear this night, but could not get
fabric. They wore their black mourning bands on their forearms, deliberately
covering the skin on which Whittingham had long ago branded his "RW."
All three adults had rubbed blackening soot on their faces and arms, to better
disappear into the night. But the only one wearing dark clothing was Father
Tomas. Freddy was painfully aware of the brightly bleached shift she wore under
her new vest. She made a quick Sign of the Cross, praying that the hated white
gown would not be spotted by the wrong eyes this night – that those wrong eyes
would remain closed in the exhausted sleep of harvest. Everyone on the
plantation worked brutally hard this time of year, and was allowed only four
hours of precious rest. Colin had chosen the quietest hour, when the estate was
still. His plan was to sail away quickly, getting as far from Barbados as
possible before their absence was discovered.
The
thunder of horse hooves on the road above sent a startled shiver through Freddy.
It sounded as if it was coming from the direction of Bridgetown. The women covered
the toddlers' mouths with their hands and hunkered lower in the cane. Earlier
they had explained to the older boys that they were going on a pirate
adventure, and must be very quiet to keep the bad pirates away. Laurie and Raz
were excited about meeting good pirates. Thank the good Lord the babes were
sound asleep in the slings. Moments before, when they had crossed the road, no
one had been about. Now gold beams of torchlight shifted through the mature
cane, and shadows leaped. Probably militia. The sound of pounding hooves faded
away, and Freddy heard men's voices.
"
All in the merry
month of May," someone sang, slurring his words. "When green buds
they were swellin'…young Willie Grove on his death-bed lay, for love of Barb'ra
Allen."
"Quit yer blasted wailing, Bryan!" another
blurted.
Someone else laughed.
"I need a bloody piss," a deep voice
muttered, the words running together in an English accent. Leather stirrups
squeaked as the man
dismounted – directly above them. Freddy
put her finger to her mouth and looked at both Raz and Laurie, whose eyes were
round with fright. Birdie was so still, she did not seem to be breathing. Boots
crunched heavily on the gravel road to a spot about twenty feet down the way.
The torchlight was brighter. Shadows swung wildly in the cane tops above them.
A
gushing stream rushed into the cane appallingly close to where they crouched.
It lasted forever, it seemed, accompanied by deep moans of relief. Raz began to
giggle but Birdie instantly removed a biscuit from her vest pocket and stuffed
it into his mouth, silently shushing him. Laurie seemed frozen. Father Tomas
was motionless. Freddy's heart hammered so loud she feared the man would hear
it. Her mouth had gone dry. She could not even think about what would happen,
should they be discovered.
"Bry,
make haste, damn ye!" a voice shouted from down the road.
Finally
the shadows changed again. More steps crunched on the road. These were followed
by grunts as the man drunkenly tried to get back on his steed. "Stand
still, ye cursed monster!" he muttered. The horse nickered and Freddy
heard a deep belch, followed by the clop-clop of the animal trotting heavily
down the road.
Freddy
exhaled, holding her chest with one hand. She hadn't even known she was holding
her breath. A bright cluster of stars overhead provided just enough light to
make out the others' faces. Birdie shook her head, her hand still over her
mouth. The priest stifled his laughter.
"Jesus
in Heaven!" she breathed. Her ears felt like they might burst as she
suppressed the mad giggle rising in her throat.
"God
settle the pisser," Father Tomas whispered, snorting. "We should wait
a bit, to be safe…"
Freddy
sat all the way down on the ground, her legs tired from squatting. She leaned
forward, bunched up part of her skirt, and laughed hysterically into the
fabric. Birdie and the priest joined her, finding their own ways to stifle the
sounds.
Laurie
tugged on her sleeve. "Mama?" he said softly.
"Shhhh."
Freddy straightened and put her arm around his tiny shoulders, tears in her
eyes from her fit of giggling.
Now
came another rumble of galloping horse hooves, this time heading toward town.
In the flickering torchlight, they ducked and looked at each other, alarmed.
But the sound passed quickly.
They
waited in silence.
Father
Tomas leaned over. "Let's be gone!" he whispered.
The
women nodded and without a word they cautiously crept through the towering cane
the quarter-mile or so down to the white sand. The women carried the older boys
on their hips. As they approached the water, the cane stalks rustled softly in
the sea breeze. Colin would hide under a clump of mangrove trees on the edge of
the sand, he'd said, the same trees from which he had made his own escape. He
would have a dinghy ready.
They
stole down to the sand, staying under the huge, gnarled mangroves. Where was
Colin? Freddy saw no evidence of him, but did make out the shape of a sloop
just off shore. The vessel was an inky shadow on the dark sea. The glassy water
rippled gently.
Freddy
remembered this spot with a sharp pang. She and Kofi had bathed together in the
moonlit sea here, and made the sweetest love she'd ever known. Her heart ached
as she looked around. Watching over them now, he would be very happy that they
were escaping.
She
flinched when a nighthawk called from a nearby mangrove branch. She could make
out the white markings on its wings as it repeated, "Pity-pit-pit!"
Father
Tomas pointed to a clump of trees down the beach. Quickly, silently, they
followed him to the shadows there. A man in black clothing crouched beneath the
thick branches, between two big roots at the edge of the sand. Colin had said
he would disguise himself in the traditional austere black hat and black coat
of Quaker men. Next to him was a beached dinghy.
As
they reached the dinghy, Freddy realized this man was smaller than Colin. Her
stomach did a flip as once more her heart jumped into her throat. Who was this?
He
silently rose and turned, removing his hat.
Freddy
gasped as she realized she was looking into Paulina's hateful eyes.
Before
Father Tomas could grab the woman, she shoved a pistol into his ribs. They all
froze in place. Father Tomas lifted his hands. The boys whimpered. Freddy
shifted Laurie on her hip, gave him a squeeze, and glanced at the sloop. All
was dark there.
"No
one move." Paulina spat the words, her voice hard. "I WILL
shoot!" She shoved the priest in front of her and turned toward the cane
uphill. "Caw! Caw!" she called.
"Caw!"
The reply came from the darkness.
Raz
and Laurie had begun sobbing.
"Keep
those urchins quiet." Paulina tossed two strips of muslin at Birdie.
"You, tie their mouths with these…"
"That
will only frighten them more—" Freddy began.
Paulina
slapped her across the cheekbone, hard. "Silence!"
"MAMA!"
Laurie wrapped his little arms around his mother's neck and buried his face in
her gown, his bawling escalating into screams. Freddy tightened her hold on
him, her mind in such a tumult she barely noticed her cheek stinging from the
slap. Surely they could overpower this house slave. There must be a way.
Raz
was quiet astride his mother's hip. He sucked the middle fingers of one hand,
his eyes darting from Paulina to Birdie and back.
"Muffle
this one first." Paulina pointed at Laurie.
Birdie
put Raz down on the sand, silently holding a finger to her mouth. He obeyed,
sucking harder on his fingers.
Birdie
began wrapping Laurie's mouth with the fabric and he slapped her hands away.
Again the Indian woman held her finger to her mouth. Laurie cried louder, his
huge eyes shifting from Birdie to his mother and back. Birdie tried again to
wrap his mouth, and this time succeeded.
Freddy
felt glued to the place where she stood, unable to move a muscle.
Still
holding her pistol against the priest's back, Paulina sidled over. She wrapped
her fist in Freddy's long braid and leaned in. "I would take pleasure in
shooting your priest, then beating you senseless," she hissed, yanking
Freddy's head by her braid.
As
Birdie turned to Raz to stifle him with the fabric, both infants began to wail.
"Make
haste!" Paulina commanded. "Quiet those babes."
Freddy
took Kofi's warm body from the sling and cradled him in her trembling arms. His
wails faded. Birdie shifted Efia to her breast to shush her. She finished tying
the fabric behind Raz's head, and again balanced him on her hip.
Paulina
lined up the group on the sand in front of her, with Freddy in the lead. Above
their covered mouths the boys' eyes were round with fear.
Freddy's
cheekbone throbbed.
The
Creole rammed the gun barrel into Father Tomas's back. "Mind," she
snarled, "I will not hesitate to shoot him if you try anything. Now! Up
the hill!" Paulina marched them into the cane fifty feet above the beach.
"Halt
there!" she barked at Freddy.
To
her right the cane rustled.
"Over
here!" came a familiar deep voice.
Paulina
shoved Freddy toward the voice, keeping her gun aimed at the priest. Freddy tripped,
but caught herself. She came to a small clearing on a cart lane. There knelt
Colin, his hands on top of his head. Sam stood behind him in his characteristic
wide stance, holding a pistol at Colin's back. Another pistol was tucked into
his waistband, next to his whip.
"Come, imbeciles," Sam growled. "Next to him. Kneel."
Freddy
put Laurie down and sank to her knees next to Colin, deliberately close enough
to rub his arm with hers. He was bare-chested and his breeches were streaked
with mud. He stared straight ahead, his back rigid.
"Sit
down," Birdie whispered to the boys.
"Quiet!"
Sam strutted before them, waving his pistol. "Good work, Paulina." He
nodded at her.
The
house slave nodded back at Sam, then threw him a wide smile.
"Did
you think we wouldn't know what you were about?" the driver jeered, again
waving the gun back and forth. "We will make good money on this, eh, my
love? That white bounty hunter will love this!"
"That
he will," Paulina crooned, tossing aside the black clothing she'd used as
a disguise. She resumed holding her pistol on the priest.
"What
shall we do with you?" Sam taunted in an eerily subdued voice, pacing
before them but keeping his gun trained on Colin. He rested one hand on his
whip handle, then caressed it. "If only there was time for more
whippings—"