28. PUNISHMENT.

NOT SINCE THE DAY HER MOTHER DIED HAD POLLY felt such agony. She gasped in disbelief, unable to catch her breath. Head spinning, she clung to Amari, who was choking on her sobs. Mrs. Derby threw herself onto her child, then fainted, this time for real.

Mr. Derby dropped the gun, then looked at his hands. He seemed stunned. He turned to Clay and said quietly, "Go tell old Jubal to get up here and take care of . . . of all this." He would not look at the bodies. "And make sure Sara Jane gets punished," he added without emotion. Polly watched Clay disappear into the darkness with a look of satisfaction on his face.

Dr. Hoskins peered out of the door then, unsure of what he might encounter. "Come get my wife, Doctor," Mr. Derby called. "I believe she's fainted again. Unfortunately, she had to witness the disciplining of some unruly slaves, and it proved a bit much for her. See to her, will you, old fellow?" Mr. Derby took a deep breath and smoothed his doublet.

The doctor crept slowly to the bloody scene, observed it all, but made no comment. He picked up Mrs. Derby in his arms and carried her back to the house. Lena waited at the door to assist him, her eyes bright with fear.

Then Mr. Derby turned his attention to Teenie, Polly, and Amari, who huddled together. "Follow me," he told them curtly.

He led them down the familiar path to Teenie's kitchen, where he stopped. "Where is the boy Tidbit?" he asked Teenie.

She hesitated. "I don't rightly know, suh. He done heard all the noise, and I guess it scared him. Maybe he run off to the woods."

"Call to him. You better hope he answers."

Polly could see that Teenie was not sure what to do. "Tidbit," Teenie whispered softly.

"Call him so he hears you!" Mr. Derby demanded.

"Tidbit, honey, you in there?" Teenie called, her voice quavering.

A faint rustling could be heard coming from the kindling box. Mr. Derby marched over, tossed aside the small pieces of firewood, and pulled the boy out of the box by one arm. The dog growled softly. "Mama?" Tidbit called out.

When Mr. Derby dropped the boy to the ground, Tidbit ran quickly to the skirts of his mother. She picked him up and held him close to her body.

Mr. Derby spoke then. Polly sensed he was just barely in control of himself. "Follow me," he demanded once more, and he led them a few paces from the kitchen to the smokehouse. He pulled out a key, unlocked the door, and turned to look at the frightened group in front of him.

"You," he said, pointing at Polly, "are a liar! I will not have such a person in my household!"

Polly cowered before him, her hands held up in front of her face. "Have mercy, sir," she whispered. He ignored her.

"And you," he said to Amari with consternation, "have been trouble since I was kind enough to bring you here." Amari looked frightened, Polly thought, but furious at him as well. That gave Polly courage to stand a little straighter in spite of Mr. Derby's fury.

"And finally you," he said fiercely to Teenie, "I trusted to obey me. Your responsibility was to me and you failed."

"I so sorry, suh," Teenie mumbled.

"Too late," he said harshly. He thought for a moment. "When Dr. Hoskins leaves in the morning, he will have three passengers. I'll send Clay with him to make sure there are no more problems. If it were not for my son, I might never have discovered the whole truth."

Polly searched for the words that might calm him down or change his mind. "Sir," she began.

But Mr. Derby ignored her as he firmly pushed each of them into the dark, windowless smokehouse.

Polly, Amari, and Teenie looked at one another but did not fight him or object-they did not want to do anything to further incur his anger. Mr. Derby slowly closed the door, then opened it again.

"Tomorrow is a market day in Charles Town," he said. "Polly, I plan to sell your indenture to a whorehouse in New Orleans. You'll bring a pretty penny. They like them young down there." He uttered a short, harsh laugh.

Tears welled up in Polly's eyes, but she shook her head and refused to cry. Anger began to replace her misery as she looked at Mr. Derby with steely-eyed fury.

"And, Myna, I can find another toy for my son to play with. I'm sure I can get more than I paid for you-a broken-in African is highly sought after."

Amari looked devastated, but she, too, seemed to have run out of tears. She faced Mr. Derby with quiet resolve. The two girls stood there, stony and silent.

"You'll leave at first light." They heard the lock fasten firmly in the latch and his footsteps as he headed back to the house.

"What 'bout me, suh?" Teenie called out through one of the wooden slats of the smokehouse. "Who gonna cook yo' food if you sells me?"

The sound of his boots stopped. "Oh, Teenie, "he called back, "I'd never sell you. You're much too valuable."

Teenie breathed a small sigh of relief. She clung to Tidbit fiercely in the darkness. "Oh, thank you, suh," she whispered.

"I'm selling Tidbit instead," Mr. Derby's voice said clearly. The sound of his boots on the hard dirt disappeared as he headed back to the big house.

Teenie's wails echoed in the darkness.

29. LOCKED IN THE SMOKEHOUSE.

"OH, LAWD, WHAT WE GONNA DO?" TEENIE MOANED miserably. She sat on the dirt floor, holding Tidbit close to her. "He be my onliest chile. My baby boy," she whispered into his hair. "My baby boy."

Polly could hear Tidbit whimpering, "Whassa matter, Mama?" She knew he couldn't possibly comprehend the enormity of what was about to happen to him.

"Is there any way out of here?" Polly looked around, but the smokehouse was so dark that she could distinguish only the shadowy figures of a couple of hams hanging from hooks.

"No, chile. The smokehouse was built secure so can't nobody come in here and get free meat. And ain't but two keys-Massa got one and Miz Isabelle got the other." Teenie continued to rock Tidbit on her lap.

Amari, who sat on the floor near the door, suddenly asked, "Slaves ever run off?"

"Shure, they runs off-any chance they get," Teenie replied. "But mostly they gets brought back. They got dogs that can smell a person in the woods and folks whose job it is just to catch runaways and bring 'em back."

"Has anybody ever succeeded?" Polly asked.

"Yes, chile. Far as I knows. They mighta got killed on their journey, but they never came back here, so in my mind, they got to the North safely."

"What is North?" Amari wanted to know.

"North is where freedom lives, chile. They got slaves there, too, but I've heard tell of black folk livin' up North with jobs they gets paid for and houses that belong to them, and don't nobody own them at all!"

"So why don't more slaves run away?" Polly asked.

"It's hard to hide when yo' skin is black and everybody else got white skin," Teenie explained. "Now you, chile, could run off and fit right in. You could leave Myna and my Tidbit here and have you a chance to be free."

"I'd never leave them!" Polly blurted before she could even think about it. Yet, once she said it, she knew it was true.

"Easy to say while we's all locked up," Teenie commented quietly.

"Do they chase runaway indentured servants as well?" Polly asked her.

"Couple of years back, Massa had a 'dentured boy who run off. Massa brung him back after a few days, and he put a iron collar round the boy's neck so folks would know he was a runaway and not free to be on the roads."

"Where this boy now?" Amari asked quietly, touching her neck, which still held the scars from her own iron chains.

"He drowned that summer-I believe he let that iron collar just take him on down," Teenie told her.

"North," Polly mused. "We could all be free." She wondered what freedom would mean to Amari, who could never get back to what she had lost.

"Shhh, what that noise?" Amari suddenly whispered. They all heard it-a faint scratching on the back wall of the smokehouse. They all moved quietly to the back of the small room.

They heard the scratching again, then Cato's whispered voice. "Y'all all right?" Polly smiled as she heard him clear his throat and cough.

"If they catch you here, they kill you for shure," Teenie whispered to Cato.

"If they kill me, at least I be free at last. I ain't worried 'bout it." Cato laughed quietly. His voice got serious then. "Teenie, you got to let the boy go with them purty lil gals. Yo' boy got a chance to be free."

"How you figger?" Teenie asked, skepticism in her voice.

"Doc Hoskins don't believe in no slavery."

"How you knows this?" Teenie asked suspiciously.

"How many times I gotta tell you that I just knows stuff? Lissen, Doc Hoskins ain't got it in him to sell nobody."

"But Clay is going with us!" Polly exclaimed. "I think it would give him pleasure to see us sold."

Teenie shifted her weight and handed Tidbit to Amari. "Hold him for a hot minute, chile. I got an idea." To Cato she whispered, "Go to my kitchen. Look out back under that big rock by the persimmon tree. You'll find a rag with a passel of seeds in it. Put just two seeds in Massa Clay's midnight wine." She was silent a moment. "Maybe three."

Polly heard Cato grunt. "I hear you. You jest leave Clay up to ol' Cato. Last I heard, he was down in the quarters beatin' the sweet Jesus outta Sara Jane. I best hurry if I'm to fix him his usual bedtime glass o' wine. Get the boy ready, Teenie," he told her.

"I ain't partin' with my baby!" Teenie said emphatically.

"You wants that boy to be a slave like you? You wants to see him be gator bait again?"

Teenie groaned. Polly could almost touch the anguish in her voice. "I wants a better life for him, that's for shure."

"You gotta trust these gals and trust the good Lord and trust the spirits of hope," Cato said philosophically, still whispering through the wall. "You gotta let him go. You gotta give the boy the chance to be free."

"Cato," Teenie called out in a strained voice.

"I be here," Cato replied.

"Be real careful with them seeds. I'm gonna need a big pile of 'em soon. Yassuh, Massa Derby gonna have himself a right good meal pretty soon. I got a mind to fix him a stew he ain't never gonna forget-ain't ever gonna remember."

Polly wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but Cato whispered in reply. "I hears you."

Teenie took the sleeping child from Amari and held him closely.

Polly still could not see how leaving with the doctor in the morning, heading to the slave market, would lead to a chance for freedom.

Amari asked through the wall, "Where be North, Cato? Where is free?"

Cato answered clearly. "Do not go north. That's where they be lookin' for you."

"That makes no sense," Polly interjected. "What do you mean, don't go north? If we go south, we get deeper and deeper into slave territory. Our only chance for freedom must be in the North!" Surely he could see that.

Cato repeated, "Do not go north. Tracker dogs search the roads headin' north. Runaway papers be posted in the North." He coughed again.

"Where we go?" Amari asked.

"Head south. Find a place called Fort Mose. It be in Spanish Florida. I hear tell it be a place of golden streets and fine wine. Spaniard folk run it, and any slave who get there be set free!"

"'Dentured gals, too?" Amari asked.

"The ways I hears it, the folks at Fort Mose got open arms to slaves, 'dentured folk, even Injuns!" Cato told them.

"It sounds too good to be true," Polly commented.

"Ain't nothing gooder than freedom," Cato replied, almost too softly to be heard.

"Much danger?" Amari asked.

"Yes, chile, much danger. Swamps and alligators and bears and bugs to start, plus not knowin' how to get there, plus the fear. It be a long, hard trip."

"How we not get lost?" Amari asked, her voice trembling.

"Follow the river south, then leave it. All rivers run to sea, and you must travel by land. Stay way inland from the ocean. Else you have too many rivers to cross. That's all I knows to tell you. When you find them streets of gold, think of ol' Cato." His footsteps and his cough disappeared into the night.

Polly leaned against the wall, trying to think. None of this makes any sense. Trying to escape by running south? Rivers? Bears? Swamps? Impossible! She wished desperately that she could ask her mother for advice or just curl up in her arms and not have to worry about difficult decisions.

But she sat on the dirt floor of a smokehouse, surrounded by the dried carcasses of two pigs, a cow, and a deer, feeling scared and powerless. She glanced at Amari, a girl who just a few months ago had seemed dirty and disgusting. Now they were caught up together in a situation that was so awful, she had to grab her head to erase the bloody images from her mind. Mr. Derby murdered a baby! What kind of man could do such a thing?

Polly watched as Amari, wrapped in her own private thoughts, finally slept. Teenie cradled her son, whispering to him, singing to him, telling him stories. She heard Teenie murmur over and over, "Long as you remember, chile, nothin' ain't really ever gone."

Polly thought with compassion of Teenie's sorrow and the anguish Mrs. Derby must be enduring right now-it was enough to drive someone mad. She wondered what the morning would bring.