Age:
Post High School
Reading Level: 2.7
Chapter 1
I looked across the heat-flattened waters of the James River and sighed. I'd hoped to never see this river again. I was scared of it. Once on the far side, I feared that slavery would swallow me again, even with the entire Army of the Potomac crossing in front of me.
"Lulu, it's our turn," Miss Almira said and startled me.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The loaded wagon in front of ours started down a ramp. I jiggled the reins. Our horses, asleep on their feet, stirred. I clucked to let them know it was time to get working again. They eased forward in their harnesses.
Our wagon creaked, groaned, and rolled onto the longest makeshift bridge I ever did see. Pontoons, flat boats that floated on tubes, were tied together. Beams lay across the boats, and planks lay on top of the beams. I hoped it was all anchored to something solid.
The horses shied when their hooves clopped on the battered planks. I spoke sweetly to them. They shied again when the wagon wheels rumbled onto the planks behind their hooves, but they kept on pulling.
"This is a mighty bridge!” Almira exclaimed. “And it wasn't even here yesterday!"
I shrugged. "Let's hope it stays put until we're on the other side."
She looked at me. "Lulu, you sound out of sorts this morning."
I shrugged again. "Crossing this river again don't make me happy none."
"You've crossed it before?"
"I have."
I let the horses pull us onward. There wasn't a lick of wind. The air was heavy and hot, though I don't think it was yet ten in the morning. The river spread to either side without a ripple like it was a sheet of silver.
At last I said, "I told you I was sold a second time?"
"Yes."
"Well, that was a private deal. My master in Carolina owed a debt to a cousin of his, Master Eliza Hodge. Master Hodge took me and some others away with him in payment of that debt. Master Hodge had business in Richmond on his way home. He brought us with him. "
"You became a slave here in Virginia?"
"No, ma'am, but we passed through here." I paused, trying to decide what to tell her. "Master Hodge was a tall man in his middle years. He was clean-shaven and had black hair. He often had a smile on his face, or half a smile, like somebody told him a joke only he could hear. He scared me right off, I'll tell you."
"How so, Lulu?"
“Well, they were going to hang some men in a town we were passing through. Master Hodge said we had to see the hangings. He led us to a square in front of the courthouse where the scaffolds were. He stopped us and smiled that smile of his.
“There were six of us chained together in a line. I was in the middle. The very last one was old Hosea. Hosea was as simple as the day is long and about as useful as spoiled milk. He could work a little, I guess, if you could get him to remember what he was doing.
“Master Hodge unchained Hosea and led him toward the scaffold,” Lulu continued. “Hosea had a big smile on his face. He smiled that way when he didn't understand what was going on, which was most of the time. Master Hodge went up to the sheriff and said, ‘This man is an escapee and a thief. I'd be obliged if you would add him to your punishments today.’
“That sheriff was in a hanging mood. He took Hosea down to the end of the scaffold and put a noose over his head. It was fierce hot in that square, but I'm cold to this day thinking about that line of five men with nooses over their heads. One was crying. One was cursing. Two were silent, and Hosea was smiling.
“The sheriff's deputy pulled a lever, and there was a big clunk when the traps let go. Then all the men were hanging there dead with their necks broke.”
Miss Almira swallowed and looked away.
“We watched them hang for some time before Master Hodge came over to us. He had that smile on his face and he said, ‘Remember that.’
“We took ship at Norfolk, a big sternwheeler, and went up to Baltimore. Then we took a pretty sailboat over to Cambridge on Maryland's eastern shore. Master Hodge's place wasn't too far from there.”
"What kind of place was it, Lulu?"
I shrugged. "A tobacco plantation, but we grew many other things. Master Hodge put me in the slave quarter. I went to work in the fields."
Sea birds swooped lazily across the bridge ahead of us and called to each other. Almira looked at me. "Were the overseers cruel?"
I shook my head. "No, ma'am. They weren't friendly, but they weren't cruel. Master Hodge wanted his slaves in good shape to work."
"What made you decide to run?"
Chapter 2
Gulls called, and the horses’ hooves thumped like heartbeats. I focused on the sounds as I thought about Almira’s question.
Finally, I decided to say what I had never said before. "Master Hodge started looking at me right off. I'd catch him looking. I'd see his smile. I knew. Some weeks after I arrived there, an overseer told me to carry a box of ropes down to the old boathouse on the bay. It was dusk. I'd never done that before, but the box wasn't heavy, and the evening was pretty . . . blue and mild for September.
“I came up to the boathouse. It was a long shed built on a dock, but lots of the siding boards were hanging by a nail. The roof had holes in it a bird could fly through. There were still boats in it. Some of the men used them to go fishing on Sundays and such.
“I walked inside with that box and stopped a little ways in. It was black dark in there. I couldn't see where to go. There was a scraping noise behind me. I turned, and a man stepped out from the shadows. He was between the entrance and me. It was Master Hodge.
“He carried a lash in his right hand. He walked toward me. I backed up. He said, ‘You be a good girl now, Lulu. Do just what I say, and no harm will come to you.’
“I didn't answer him. I just kept walking backwards through the shed. I came out of the far end onto the dock, and there wasn't much dock left. He patted that lash against his thigh and kept coming toward me, slow and easy.
“My heels bumped against a raised beam at the dock's end. I stopped. Master Hodge, smiling all the while, said, ‘Be nice to me, Lulu. I'll be nice to you.’
“That's when he jumped forward and grabbed for me. I threw that box at his feet. He stumbled and pitched to the side, right into a net the fishermen had hung to dry. That net wrapped him right up, and he began cursing. Then he stumbled again.”
After a moment or two, Almira asked, "What happened, Lulu?"
I looked at her. "He flopped down into the deep water. He thrashed around and called for me to help him. He'd go down and come up. I just stood there." I stopped again and looked away.
"Lulu?"
"After a while, he didn't come up no more."
We sat in silence and reached the end of the bridge. I clucked to the horses again and urged them up a gentle slope onto the road. The road took us back beneath trees and blessed shade before Almira spoke again.
"What did you do then?"
I shook my head. "If I didn't kill him myself, I let him die. They'd hang me for sure. I panicked. I ran off into the dark, not knowing which way I was going. Out of breath, I sat beneath some trees. I just sat there. I didn’t think for some time, maybe even an hour."
Almira sighed. "Where could you go?"
I glanced at her. "Some folks in the quarter talked about a place, a farm several miles north, where escaping slaves were welcome."
"Did you go there?'"
"I did. I reached there at dawn and waited until the farmer came out to milk his cows. I about scared him back into Tuesday when I stepped out from behind the barn door.
“After he caught his breath, he questioned me real close, making sure I wasn't part of some trap. I guess he saw I was too tired and too scared to be fooling him. He took me back to his house and showed me into the kitchen. That's when I was struck dumb and speechless by luck."
"What happened?"
I grinned. "Harriet Tubman herself was sitting at that kitchen table with four escaping slaves. They were drinking milk and eating cornbread. Their eyes got big when I walked in, looking at me just like I was a ghost."
"You accidentally walked into the underground railroad?"
"Yes, ma’am.”
"What did they do?"
"Well, they took me in. I hid out with Harriet and her passengers in the loft of the barn. That night I went on with them. Just after midnight, we reached a country church. It was more of an old house than a church, needing paint and some fixing on the roof. But there was a cross over the front door, and the preacher was sitting on the front steps waiting for us. Don't ask me how he knew we'd be coming.
“He stood up when we came out of the woods. He was as tall as grown corn and as lean as a fence rail. He spread his arms wide and smiled at us. Harriet, grinning the whole time, went up to him. ‘Reverend Johnson,’ she said. ‘I’ve brought some friends.’ Reverend Johnson said, ‘Friends indeed,’ and hugged her.
“We went inside and sat down to a feast—cornbread, black-eyed peas, ham and greens. We slept the rest of that night in a hidden room beneath the pulpit of the church, but not long past dawn somebody poked me hard. ‘Wake up, Lulu.’
“I opened my eyes, and Harriet's face was close to mine. I could see the dent in her forehead where her old master hit her with an iron weight. ‘Lulu, it’s time to take a walk.’
“I followed her outside. It was a fine autumn morning. I took a deep breath of cool, lively air. I wasn't free yet, but I could feel freedom coming.”
Almira was quiet for a time. At last, she said, “Lulu, I'll wager you work as hard now as you ever did in slavery.”
I laughed. “You'd win that bet! It don't matter, though. Workin' in the hospitals is freedom work.”
She nodded. “There will be battles in front of Richmond and Petersburg. I expect we'll have plenty to do.”
“I expect we will.”
Chapter 3
Dressing Station near Petersburg
Silver knives flashed in the shadow. Screams followed every blade's shimmer, scarlet with bloody pain. I covered my ears with my hands and tried to make sense of what I saw.
Three surgeons worked in dim, orange light. They cut, wiped their bloody knives on their bloody leather aprons, and cut again. Attendants, two for each surgeon, mopped up blood with brown sponges or held men down while the knives did their work.
Almira said, "The attack was at dawn. They're still bringing the wounded in."
I looked outside the operating tent. Still shapes, many of them, lay in darkness beyond the reach of the lanterns.
Almira followed my gaze. "Those men are dead or soon will be. Lulu, this place has three kinds of men: the ones that need operations now, the ones that can wait, and the ones only God can help. The waiting ones are over there." She tilted her head toward the left side of the tent. "They're out in the dark doing the best they can."
I nodded. "It's the usual, then, ma'am."
She took a deep breath. "We can do something for them. Will you make us a fire?"
"Glad to, ma'am."
"Those men need something warm to drink. Make weak coffee, and there's portable soup in the box next to the coffee. The pots are in the second wagon, I think."
"That portable soup is foul tasting stuff, ma'am."
"I know. Do the best you can. Make something hot, something nourishing, as quickly as you can. I'll check dressings and see what might need doing. Please send some of the drivers to help me."
I nodded and went to our lead wagon. The driver sat where I left him. "You're Sims?"
"Corporal Sims, contraband."
"Miss Almira needs your help to check wounded men, Corporal."
His eyes avoided mine, and he spoke carefully. "We done our duty. We're drivers. These wagons are here."
"Sims, you are an ambulance driver. You have many duties, and Miss Almira may direct you to them."
"Be damned if I take orders from her!" His eyes, somewhat glazed, locked with mine and flared with defiance. “Or you!” He swayed slightly.
"Sims, you are drunk."
"Expect so, contraband."
"I see."
I went to the second wagon. The driver—a bearded, toothless man in his late middle years—snored with his chin on his chest. I went to the third wagon. Its driver had dismounted and was tending his horses, a good sign. I spoke to him. "Soldier?"
He turned a bright, friendly face to me. "Jim Hawkins, ma'am, ambulance driver."
I smiled at him. "Well, Jim Hawkins, can you help Miss Almira and me with the wounded for a time? We need to get a fire going and then check dressings.”
"Glad to help, ma'am, just as soon as I see to the horses."
"Please meet me by the lead wagon when you're done." He nodded. I walked back to the first wagon. Ignoring Sims, I lit a lantern and went to a fire pit. I soon had a fire going and water on to boil.
Jim Hawkins announced himself from behind my left shoulder. "Ready when you are, ma'am."
I turned and studied him in the lantern light. His face was even younger than I had thought. "Jim, are you seventeen?"
He grinned. "Just turned last week."
"Can you tote these blankets and the lantern too?"
"Sure can."
"Come with me."
We walked into the darkness beside the surgical tent. We found Almira with the first groaning man. I knelt beside her and watched. She offered a gentle touch, just as Clara Barton had taught her, and a word of encouragement.
Jim held the lantern closer. The man's eyes, wide with fear, shone up at us. She checked his shell-torn shoulder. The bandage was secure.
She smiled and said, "The surgeons will see you soon, soldier. You'll be fine."
I added, "I'll bring you coffee and soup soon." He nodded. We rose.
We checked several more wounded men in similar fashion. Perhaps two hundred remained. As we added a dressing to a wounded hand, Jim asked, "You have more lanterns, ma'am?"
Almira nodded. "We do."
"Can you manage by yourselves for a short time?"
"Yes."
He smiled. "I'll step across the road and see if some of those men by the fires will help."
Almira nodded. "Please, go ahead." Jim handed me the lantern and walked toward the road.
We went on to the next wounded man and the next. Jim returned with three men, armloads of blankets and two more lanterns. We separated and brought relief where we could.
I went back to our fire and filled pots with coffee. Two of our helpers wrapped rags around the handles and each took a pot into the darkness. Our work gathered speed. Finally, we found a boy the surgeons had missed.
He was thin and fair and perhaps just eighteen. I raised the bandage on his head. A ball had grazed the right side above his ear. The wound was bloody but not deep. His blue eyes were unfocused, his skin clammy, his breathing rapid.
Almira shook her head. "He shouldn't be doing so poorly."
Bill, our soldier helper, lowered his lantern. "Canister shot. There could be more."
I opened the boy's shirt. His breast was clear.
Bill said, "His legs are sound."
We opened the shirt further and unbuttoned his trousers. High on his right thigh, next to his groin, a black hole oozed blood.
Almira took a deep breath and said, "We must get him to the surgeon this instant."
"He's dying ma'am." Bill eased the lantern away. "Bleeding inside. He'll be gone before we go ten steps."
I took the boy's hand. I leaned close and spoke words of comfort to him. His eyes fluttered shut. His lips formed a word I could not hear. A shudder passed through him, and he was gone.