Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House



MR. BURTON AND me is squished tight in the bottom of this boat. I see Mr. Burton’s scared and that he don’t like this no better than me, but I’m glad I’m not on my own like I was under that wagon seat. I’m just hopin’ Mr. Burton keeps hisself settled. I never seen nothing like it when Kitty was comin’ and he took off runnin’. I always thought Mr. Burton was something like God—that big a man. But then he goes off, leavin’ Sukey and me. I’d of expected something like that from my daddy, but I was wrong about that, too. Turns out, afraid as my daddy was for getting took again, he come down into slave country looking for me. I’d never guessed he’d a done that. He musta cared for me that much. Makes my throat hurt to think about it.

My daddy was right. There’s nothing worse than being a slave. I can’t stop wonderin’ what’s going to happen to other boys like me now that Sukey is gone. Who’s gonna help them get outta there?

Feels like this boat is movin’ through the water at a fast clip. All I can think is that I don’t know how to swim if it gets a leak. I can’t talk to Mr. Burton ’cause we was told to stay quiet, so I close my eyes and try to think of something else. I don’t want to remember Southwood and what it’s like to be a slave there, so I think about Miss Peg and how I told her that I would draw her some pictures. She told me that she and Willie help out other runners all the time, but always Negroes. She don’t take to Mr. Burton. “He act too white for me,” she said.

But I say to her, “If I was white like him, I’d be actin’ white, too.”

“Why?” she said.

“For one thing, they don’t take no white boys and sell them for slaves,” I said. She give me one of her looks but don’t say nothing.

“For another, white people don’t have to be scared, like my daddy always was, always looking over his shoulder.”

“I guess you’s right, but no white man ever done me no good,” she said.

I told her about Mr. Spencer and how he helped me out. “He was white,” I said. “What about him?”

“I s’pose everybody got a little good in ’em,” she said.

“Mr. Spencer got a lot a good in him, and so does Mr. Burton. You just don’t want to see it,” I say, and she shoots me a look that shuts me up.

Truth is, I don’t know what to think of Mr. Burton no more. After he runs off and leaves me alone with Sukey, I got no use for him, but then he comes back and I see how good he takes care of Sukey and Kitty. I never would’ve pegged Mr. Burton to be a daddy, but with Kitty, it’s like she’s his own. He claims when we make it out of here, he’s going to raise her free. I figure it’ll fall on me to raise Kitty up, because Robert don’t know nothing ’bout babies and if Mr. Burton is still gonna be white, Kitty will be down in the kitchen with Robert and me.

I wonder what kinda kitchen that’ll be. Mr. Burton said we can’t live in Philadelphia no more, so where we end up at, I don’t know. I sure hope Mr. Burton means to stand by me and keeps me with him like he said he would, but you never know with a man who runs like that.

Even though I keep thinking that Philadelphia is where my mama and daddy live, in some ways I’m glad that we’re leaving. That way, slave catchers come looking for me, I’m gone. Wonder how long they keep looking for their slaves that run? Daddy said they never stop.





CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR


1830


James


WE WERE DRAWN through the water for what seemed an eternity. I tried not to panic at being trapped in the small enclosure, but as the long hours passed, I grew increasingly distressed. My one relief was Pan beside me, who was silent but as brave as any man.

It was difficult to gauge time. We must have traveled for hours and had gone through at least two tolls before I sensed that our direction had changed and that we were traveling north. I was proved right when the man above, as though speaking to the woman, announced loudly, “We on the big canal now. Won’t be long before we get to the landing.”

Soon, amid sounds of horns and chugging, our small barge lifted and sank in the water as larger boats went by. Where were we headed? Surely a small craft such as this would not travel up as far as Suffolk or Norfolk!

It felt a lifetime had passed before the barge began to bump and thud in docking. Greetings were shouted, and through them I learned that I was on Joe’s boat. He was well known and heartily greeted, as was his son, but his wife, Miss Lou, was noted with surprise. “See you brought the missus” was heard more than once.

“Joe, you got yerself a new lil one?” a voice called out.

“No,” he called back, “Miss Lou been keepin’ the baby for her sista till she get her health back.”

“Hey, Joe, you sellin’ that fine goat?”

“Nope, ’fraid not. I got to keep her for the baby. Chil’ nothin’ but trouble! All she can take is that darn ol’ goat’s milk.”

“Joe, you got yerself some mighty fine melons there.”

“I cain’t sell them here. I’m takin’ them up to the hotel. I promise las’ time out I’d be back with ’em.”

“You mean to tell me you still goin’ up there today? You never gon’ make it.”

“No, it okay with you we bank up here for the night, leave first thing in the mornin’? What you fellas charge me for that?”

“How ’bout you give us some a those melons and we call it even.”

Joe laughed, as did the others. “That sound good ’nough,” he agreed.

And so we anchored for the night. Joe and his family stayed on the raft while visitors came by. They brought food, and Pan and I suffered when we caught scent of roasted chicken.

As they ate, the small group above us spoke like old friends, catching up on the latest gossip. One man stayed behind after the others left. Joe brought him to the back of the barge, where they sat down together and their conversation was easily overheard.

“Patrollers been through a couple times these pas’ weeks. Ain’t seen this kinda fuss in a long while. They got their eye out for a one-eyed black man who they say look white as them. He’s with a nigga boy and a slave woman carryin’ a chil’. I hear there a lotta money ridin’ on them.”

“Sound like those patrollers a rough bunch,” said Joe.

“They’s rough, but nothing like the one that come through on his own. Seen him before. Name’s Rankin. Claims to know the man who runnin’. He set to find him.”

“He must be wantin’ that money real bad,” said Joe.

“S’pose so. All I know is he sure do mean to find him. Say, you got your free papers on you?”

“You know I don’ go up this water without ’em,” Joe said.

“Jus’ keep your eye out. Don’ moor up if you see them patrollers.”

“Times like this,” Joe said, “I sure do wish I had me a gun.”

The other man gave a deep-throated laugh. “You an’ me both, Joe. ’Magine us two niggas with guns. Whooee, can you see it now! We do ourselves some huntin’!” His voice grew low. “See here, I’m slidin a knife under this pile a wood, ’case you got need of it. Traded with a Injun for it jus’ the other day. I’m not needin’ it right now, an’ there ain’t no harm in it sittin’ here.”

“I sure do thank you,” said Joe. “I got me a small one, but one that size—”

“This one do the job, is what it do.”

“I s’pect so,” said Joe, and their conversation ended when the two parted.

Trapped as we were, on hearing Rankin’s name, all I wanted was escape. I used all I had in me to fight the instinct to call out to Joe for release.

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