The Swindler's Treasure (7 page)

“Why?” Caleb asked.

“I am not his boy. He does not like to take care of me.”

“Then who takes care of you?” Libby wrote.

“I take care of myself.”

Pa groaned. “Ask him more. Who is this man? His uncle? His neighbor?”

To each question Peter shook his head. Finally he said, “The man took me in because my parents died, and I didn't have a place to live. Can I live with you?”

Pa took a slate. “Libby is my daughter,” he wrote, then pointed to her.

Peter nodded.

Again Pa wrote. “Will you take me to the man you live with? I want to talk with him.”

Again Peter nodded.

In a few more minutes, Captain Norstad finished talking with Jordan. “I'll do my best to find your father, Micah Parker,” the captain promised before Jordan left. Then Captain Norstad followed Peter down the stairs and off the boat.

Sitting at her favorite place on the hurricane deck, Libby watched them until they disappeared from sight. The entire time they were gone, she kept thinking about Peter's smile—that strange, heartwarming smile that seemed so lonely it made her ache inside.

When Pa returned, Libby and Caleb were both on the hurricane deck where they could look down on the gangplank. Peter had a bag on his back and carried a small carpetbag. It made Libby wonder if that was all Peter owned.

Pa's arms were filled with packages. Soon Libby heard Pa's steps on the stairway. She and Caleb followed Pa to his cabin.

Pa set down the packages on the table. “Clothes for Peter,” he explained. “I left him in the pastry kitchen with Caleb's grandmother, so I could talk with you.”

Pa looked as shaken as Libby had ever seen him. “Peter is an orphan, all right. The man he's living with is self-centered, uncaring, and cruel.” Pa's eyes were wet as he told about it. “I don't know how Peter manages the way he does.”

“The man is cruel?” Libby asked.

“And rude. When we got to the house, Peter said, ‘Wait a minute while I talk to him.' Peter went in while I sat down on the step. The man he lives with never came to the door. Instead he sent a note.”

Pa laid a piece of paper down on the table. Libby read the words:

Libby caught her breath. “Peter's right. The man is mean. I wonder why he took Peter in the first place?”

As Caleb finished reading the note, he turned it over. “Look! Here's more.”

“To remember what he taught him?” Libby asked. “What does the man mean?”

As if wanting to shake off the memory, Pa shrugged his shoulders. “I knocked several times, trying to get him to talk with me, but he wouldn't come to the door. Finally I decided that if someone asks why I have Peter, I'll have this paper.”

Pa picked up the piece of paper. “I'll keep it in a safe place. For now I just want to get Peter away from that awful man. I want Peter to grow up living in the sunlight.”

So upset that he could not sit still, Pa started pacing around the cabin. It was the way he thought best, Libby knew, and so did Caleb. Without speaking, they waited.

When Pa turned back to them, his mind was made up. “For as long as he's on board, let's be a family for Peter.”

“A never-give-up family?” Libby whispered. “A family that sticks together, even when it's hard?”

“A never-give-up family.” Pa's voice was rough with emotion. “We're going to love Peter, most of all. We're going to let him tell us what he's thinking, to break out of that world of silence that he's in. We're going to help him become all that he can be—not for our sake, but for his.”

Pa's eyes sought Libby's. “Okay, Libby? Is that all right with you?”

CHAPTER 6

R
elief washed through Libby—the relief that something good was going to happen to Peter. He would be cared for, fed, and clothed. But it was more than that. After having all the dresses she wanted, Libby had learned how unimportant clothes really were.

With a flash of memory, she thought back four months to the night when her Auntie Vi said, “I'm ready to give up on that girl!”

Give up on me?
Libby had felt the pain of those words. From that pain had come her wish for a never-give-up family—a family that believed in her, even if she wasn't perfect.

Since then Pa had shown Libby that he loved her no matter what happened. Could she and Pa give that kind of love to Peter?

Libby looked at Pa. “I've always wanted a younger brother. Even if it's just for a few trips, he could be like a brother.”

“I'd like a brother too,” Caleb said.

Libby stared at him in surprise. Caleb always seemed so sure of himself and what he wanted. She had never thought about his being an only child too.

The next morning Libby and Caleb set out for the church, with Peter walking between them. On his first night with them, Libby had sewed a small bag for holding a slate. Inside the bag she sewed two narrow pockets for slate pencils.

When she gave the bag to Peter, he taught Libby her first words of sign language—
thank you
. Placing the tips of the fingers of his right hand at the front of his lips, he moved his hand outward, as if blowing kisses to a baby.

Now Peter walked proudly with the new bag slung over his left shoulder, ready to offer the slate if he didn't understand what Libby and Caleb were saying. But Peter was busy teaching them. When he came to a flower, he pointed to it, then showed them the sign. A block farther on, he signed the word for
bird
.

Peter was such a good teacher that it made Libby curious. Taking the slate, she stopped at the side of the street long enough to write to him. “What did the man you stayed with mean when he said, ‘Tell Peter to remember what I taught him'?”

As Peter read Libby's words, a shadow seemed to pass over his face. But Peter only said, “He taught me to sell candles on the street. I earned money that way.”

When they entered the church, Libby was surprised to see that they were late. Then she realized what had happened. Peter had talked the whole way, which slowed them down. Slipping quietly into the back row, Libby, Caleb, and Peter sat down.

Leaning this way and that, Libby managed to see Jordan and his family in the front row. At Jordan's feet lay the cloth bag with handles—the carpetbag with the money the congregation had collected or earned.

Jordan sat tall, as though eager to take on the job he had been given. With all her heart, Libby hoped he was going to succeed. But Caleb seemed strangely quiet, even discouraged. Libby wondered if he was thinking about their talk with Pa last night. When Caleb told him what Jordan had said, Pa had also been concerned.

“I was just about to warn Jordan,” he said. “But that's when you heard Peter at the door. Through the terrible days of slavery, Jordan walked close to the Lord. I hope he doesn't forget God now when life is easier.”

Libby hoped so too. More than once Jordan had surprised them by the way he heard God tell him what to do.

Soon Reverend Freeman stood up to speak. “You are not slaves,” he told a congregation that Libby knew held many former slaves. “You are created in the image of the almighty God. You are His children!”

Reverend Freeman finished his preaching by saying, “Today we are taking the last offering for our needy people. As they seek the Promised Land, they go with your gifts of love.”

After the offering the minister called Jordan forward. “When the leaders met yesterday, we asked the Lord to show us who should take the money to Chicago,” he explained to the rest of the congregation. “We agreed on this young man, Jordan Parker.”

Suddenly Libby felt proud of Jordan. If the church leaders felt he could succeed in such an important job, surely they knew what they were doing. But Caleb watched without changing his expression. Libby felt impatient with him. Caleb seemed to be looking for trouble.

As the church leaders went forward to pray for Jordan, Reverend Freeman motioned to Hattie and her children. “Come, come. Pray with us for this fine son and brother of yours.”

When Hattie stood in front of the congregation, her face glowed with joy. Holding little Rose in her arms, Serena stood next to her mother. She, too, wore a warm glow of pride in Jordan. Zack stood next to his brother, imitating every move that Jordan made. When Jordan clasped his hands behind his back, Zack did too. When Jordan itched his forehead, so did Zack.

As Reverend Freeman began to pray, heads bowed all over the room. His prayer was simple. “Jordan, we send you forth in our good Lord's name. We ask for His protection. We ask for the safe delivery of the money to our needy people. Amen.”

At the end of the prayer, some of the leaders stretched out their hands to shake Jordan's. Others clapped him on the shoulder. Jordan grinned, as though eager to be off on his journey.

Taking up the carpetbag, Reverend Freeman held it open for one of the men to place the final offering inside. In that moment the minister looked down. Reaching into the carpetbag, he picked up a bill and read the front side. Even from the back row, Libby saw that his hand trembled.

Looking anxious now, Reverend Freeman pulled out a second dollar bill, then a third, and a fourth. A ripple of concern passed through the congregation.

Libby moaned. “One guess,” she muttered to Caleb, feeling as if she'd seen it all before.

Growing more upset by the minute, Reverend Freeman walked over to a table and emptied out the money. Picking up one bill after another, he studied them. Finally he turned to where Jordan and his family still stood at the front of the congregation.

“Jordan, my young friend,” the pastor said. “Was this carpetbag ever out of your sight?”

Jordan thought about it. “Yassuh. I left it with Momma when I went down to the river yesterday. And last night one of the maids where Momma works came to our house. She said, ‘Come, all of you. The man of the house wants to talk to you.'

“We went to the house and waited in the kitchen. But the man of the house never came. Finally the maid came back and said, ‘He can't come now. He will talk to you tomorrow.'

“So Momma said to the maid, ‘How come the man of the house told you to get us?' And the maid said, ‘He wasn't the one who told me. It was one of the boarders.'”

Suddenly Reverend Freeman pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. “During that time, the carpetbag was in the carriage house and no one watching it?”

As if suddenly realizing what had happened, Jordan trembled. “No one was watching it.”

“No doors locked?”

“We ain't got no locks.”

Jordan's shoulders shook. “Reverend Freeman?” he asked, his voice filled with fear. “The money?”

Reaching out, Reverend Freeman grabbed hold of the back of a chair. Clinging to the chair, he said, “Someone changed the real money that we saved for wildcat money. The bills in this bag are worthless.” Bowing his head, he leaned over the chair as if heartbroken.