Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(121)

“You may keep that one,” Robert said, not unkindly. “Tuck it in your pants, and when we get home, we will get you set up with some of your own.” Pan did as he was told before he rested his head back against the seat. Still he looked pensive.

“Is something else troubling you?” I asked.

His large dark eyes met mine, but they were afraid. His chin wobbled as he held back tears. “What if they come looking for me? What if they take me again?” he whispered, as though afraid the words might give substance to his fear.

I was jolted by his words. Over the years he had won me over with his open and loving nature, but until this moment I had felt our lives had little in common. Now I recognized his terror and thought of how mine had wrongly affected so many of my choices. I would not let that happen to Pan. He would know security and love, regardless of the opinions of society.

I took some time to think it through before I spoke. “Pan,” I said, “I have a question for you.”

He took a deep quivering breath before he looked at me. “What, Mr. Burton?”

“I know that your father was unable to give you a last name because he did not have one of his own,” I said.

“That’s ’cause he was a slave,” he said defensively.

“I know, Pan. But I was wondering, if I were to adopt you, would you consider taking mine?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“When you were stolen, I had no legal rights to you, but if I adopt you, no one can ever take you again. Your name would be Pan Burton.”

Pan was silent for a long while before he responded. “You mean you would take me for your own boy?”

“Yes, that is what I mean.”

“But I have a daddy.”

“And Henry will always be your father. He was a brave and good man, and my hope would be that one day you will be just like him.”

“But you are living white. How can you have a black chil’?”

I looked over to Robert for help. “I don’t know yet, but we’ll manage,” I said.

“How you gonna do that?” Pan asked.

“By overcoming one obstacle at a time,” Robert offered.

“What is a obstacle?” Pan asked.

“A difficulty—like a rock on a path that one must step around or over,” Robert interpreted.

“How about lifting it out of the way?” Pan asked.

Robert smiled when he nodded in agreement. “That, too, Pan. That, too.”

Pan glanced at Kitty resting peacefully in the arms of the nurse. “What about Kitty? Can she have your name, too, so they can never take her away?”

“What do you think, Robert?” I asked. “Can we do it? It will be quite a task to manage a household with three children.”

“It will be a happy home,” Robert said.

That thought silenced us, and we all sat back in quiet contemplation, each no doubt mulling over his own concerns, until Pan spoke again. “Mr. Burton?”

“Yes, Pan?”

“I can’t stop thinking about what’s gonna happen to any others who get took, like Randall and me. What about the runners who come through and got to get away? If Sukey isn’t there, who’s going to help them get out?”

This time I had no answer. Until now, consumed by my own troubles, I had given little thought but to my own circumstances. As I considered Pan’s words, I thought again of what might have happened to the two of us if so many others had not risked their own lives. I remembered everyone: Sukey and her man at Southwood, then the Spencers and the Quaker family, and finally, Willie and Peg and all those who helped us through the canal. Surely, given my release and fortunate circumstances, I might take some responsibility.

“Pan,” I said. “Do you know who can help?”

He shook his head.

“I will,” I said.

“What can you do?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet. This is new to me. But to begin with, as soon as we get home, I will write to Mr. Spencer to ask how I might be of assistance.”

“You’re not just sayin’ that?”

“No, Pan. You have my word.” When I met his eyes, I saw what appeared to be a glimmer of his former self.

“Can I help, too?”

“First, Pan, you must get an education. And Robert and I will need your help in raising the girls. But when you are grown, if you still choose, we might work on this together.” He studied me with such fervor that I laughed. “Come here,” I said to him, and dismissing all my usual inhibitions, I pulled him under my arm. How good it felt to embrace this brave boy.

“Mr. Burton,” came Pan’s muffled voice.

“Yes, Pan?”

“I’m glad we’re going home.”

I held him closer still. “So am I, Pan,” I said. “So am I!”





AUTHOR’S NOTE


THOUGH THIS is a work of fiction, for readers familiar with the history of Philadelphia, I am aware that over this time period the Peale Museum made a transition to Baltimore. However, in the interest of this story, I kept it in Philadelphia.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


Rebecca Gradinger—I cannot express how grateful I am for all of your tireless efforts. Your belief in my work inspired me to my best self.