Yellow Wife(75)

We walked behind the counter, through the kitchen, and down steep, narrow stairs. The place smelled of dust and cement. We turned into the tunnel on the right. Since we carried no light, I touched the chalky wall with my left hand so as not to lose my balance. At the end of the tunnel sat a small table with a candle burning. Corrina sat there with a notebook and a teacup.

“Sorry I do not have a second cup to offer you.”

I dropped into the seat opposite her. The girl disappeared the same way she came. When I felt sure we were alone, I muttered, “Thank you for this.”

“I have not done anything yet.”

I took a deep breath and told Corrina everything, from my life on the plantation, the promise of my freedom, my love for Essex, being sold on the day of my mama’s funeral, and giving birth to Essex’s child to the anguish of the Jailer selling July because of me.

“It is only a matter of time before he sells Monroe. I need to get him out of here.”

“By himself?”

“And Essex.”

Her eyes opened wide. “How would you get them off the property? I am sure they are under lock and key.”

“I am working on that now.”

“They will need money.”

“I have it.”

She sipped. “Rubin Lapier is feared. You know they have nicknamed him Bully behind his back?”

“Yes, I have heard.”

“Let me see what the friends can do.”

“Thank you, Corrina.”

“Do not thank me yet. Your request will not prove easy.”



* * *



I had no opportunity to see Essex, because the Jailer had me playing in the tavern with him until he closed for the night, then insisted that I sleep in his bed. His way of keeping an eye on me. The only time I could visit Monroe was at first light, before the Jailer roused for his day. When I left the big house to find him, the girls were still nestled in their beds but the guards were all at their posts. A coolness followed me as I trekked over to the stables, carrying apples and pears to sustain the boys through the labor of their day. When I reached the stall, Monroe had already headed to the well to draw water, and Tommy was sweeping the stables and stacking hay.

“I need to talk to you,” I whispered, looking over my shoulder. Tommy led me to a corner in the back of the stables. I pulled his ear to my mouth and whispered directions.

“You sure, Missus?” I could not mistake the terror in his eyes.

“I do not want any of you to end up like July.”

At the mention of her name he started to weep. “My sister.”

I never knew. I pulled him to my breasts and rocked him. He stood stiff in my arms, unaccustomed to affection.

“Listen to me and do what I say. I will reward you. It is my promise.”

As I left the stables, I spotted Monroe carrying water up to the kitchen house. I watched as my son balanced a strip of wood with metal buckets hanging from each side. Backbreaking work for such a young child. When I was his age, I was learning to play piano, how to add, and to read simple books like Little Boy Blue. On my way to the shed, I glanced up toward the garret room where Essex resided and prayed under my breath for God’s guidance. A full week had passed since I’d seen Essex last, and I did not want him to lose faith.



* * *



The next Sunday I prepared the girls for church. This week Tommy put on a clean white shirt and attended with us. Abbie stayed back with Birdie, and Hamp remained at the jail to clean and repair the wagon. Sissy held the younger girls’ hands and Hester walked beside Elsie. Tommy and I were side by side; he slowed down a bit and uttered between his lips, “I figured it out, Missus. Take a few more days.”

“Good. No one is to know.”

“I real careful.”

When we arrived at First African Baptist, I quickened my pace and walked up the stone steps. The greeters bid us all good morning and then we entered and found our places. Elsie and Sissy liked to sit as close to the pulpit as possible, as if the word of God could only be found in the front few pews. Corrina sat in her same pew, and I took a seat beside her. While singing the hymns, we talked to each other.

“The friends are afraid. Moving the fugitive is too dangerous. We can help with your son.”

“It has to be both or he will die.”

Corrina folded her hands gently in her lap.

“Please. I can pay more.”

She sang on, “I am so sorry.”





CHAPTER 38




Grounded

I did not know what had spooked Corrina, but I had too much at stake to give up now. There had to be another route. I laid in bed next to the Jailer, waiting for him to fall into his deep sleep. Once his breathing changed, I crept from his bed and walked down the hall to my room. I pulled up my floorboard, retrieved a slip of stationery, and crafted a letter. After the ink dried, I folded it in half, took coins from my stash, and slipped down the back stairs. Abbie’s room was a few inches bigger than the closet that Missus Delphina had made me sleep in back at the Bell plantation, and her door stayed slightly ajar.

“Abbie,” I hummed.

Her eyes fluttered. I put my fingers to my mouth and crawled inside next to her, though there was hardly enough room for the both of us. I pushed her headscarf up over her ear. “I need a favor.”