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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781630584252 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Barbour Publishing, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 01/01/2014 |
| Series: | Truly Yours Digital Editions , #336 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 176 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Drink From the Sky
By Darlene Mindrup
Truly Yours
Copyright © 1999 Barbour Publishing, Inc.All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63058-425-2
CHAPTER 1
"We can do it, Pappy. I knows we can."
The old man stared somberly at his daughter, his ebony skin glistening with sweat from the heat of the still, August evening. Even the crickets seemed to chirp lazily, drained by the warmth of this calm Tennessee night.
"What you wanna run away for, girl? Where you gonna go?"
Jenny reared back in surprise, blinking her dark mahogany eyes at her father. "What I wanna run away for? Don' you wanna be free? In the No'th we can have our freedom! You, mama, Jes, me."
Her father was already shaking his head. "I'se too old to go traipsing off somewheres I knows nothing about. How you gonna live, girl? Where you gonna live?"
"It don't matter," she told him, aggravated by his lack of enthusiasm. "We can find somethin'. Others do."
Old Jeb got up from the dilapidated rocker in front of the cold fireplace. He wandered slowly over to the doorway, and Jenny realized his rheumatism was acting up again. She glanced at the sky for signs of rain. Sure enough, through the window she could see dark clouds forming on the horizon. Jenny shivered. She hated storms ever since the time she had been a child working in the fields when she saw a bolt of lightning strike a mule. The young slave on the other end of the plow had been thrown at least twenty feet across the field. He had died later that night.
Jenny closed her eyes, but the picture refused to be dislodged. Even now, after twenty years, she couldn't forget the sight. She shivered again as she heard the rumble of thunder in the distance.
"My ole bones couldn't make such a trip," her father told her, staring pensively at the approaching storm. " 'Sides, Massa Jackson ain't a bad man. He give us food, a place to live, clothes on our backs. Massa Jackson ain't never sold none of us what belongs to him. He a good man."
Jenny crossed to him, laying a hand against his forearm. She could feel the wrinkled skin beneath her fingers and realized that her father wasn't a young man anymore. She looked at him with new eyes. Maybe he was right. Maybe he couldn't make the trip. But wouldn't it be better to die trying for freedom than to stay here and rot as a slave?
When her father's glance caught hers, she realized he could tell every thought in her head. "Massa Jackson done said I could retire. He say I can live here all the rest of my days. How many men you know willing to do that?"
Feeling her skin heat, Jenny turned away. Pappy was right, Mr. Jackson was a good man. He fed and clothed his slaves, gave them Sundays off, made sure they had the doctor when they needed it. From other slaves she had talked to, Jenny knew this was an uncommon practice.
And Mr. Jackson was a devoted husband and father. He never looked at the female slaves the way some of the others did. Why even Amelia, Jenny's best friend, wore the brand of being half white.
Jenny almost sneered. Her own skin was as ebony as the coal that fired the potbellied stoves they cooked on at the big house. She was fiercely proud of the fact that both her parents were true Africans, Ashanti from the warrior tribe of the western part of Africa.
Sometimes Jenny felt the wildness of her kin stirring in her veins. Even now the thought of freedom made her blood run hot. She was surprised that her father, who had once been an Ashanti warrior, was so pacifistic in his acceptance of his captivity.
"Pappy," she cajoled. "Think what it would be like to live your life a free man!"
He sighed, his look filled with sadness. "I'se already free, girl. Jesus done set me free long time ago. I wish you could know Him, too, Jenny."
"Pappy," she told him in a determined voice, ignoring his religious nonsense, "I'm going as soon as I get a chance."
Before he could answer, the sky was lit by a huge bolt of light, immediately followed by a resounding clap of thunder. Neither one had noticed the storm's rapid approach or the darkness that filled the cabin.
Jenny squealed, diving for the bed in the corner. Her body shook violently as the wind beat against the cabin. Within moments, a torrent of rain began pounding on their tin roof.
* * *
In the main house, Tilly stood at the door of the kitchen watching the driving rain. She fervently hoped Jes was not still in the fields. Wherever Jenny was, no doubt she had her head buried.
Tilly shook her head. Her daughter was so strong, so determined and self-sufficient, but she turned into a trembling child whenever a storm occurred. The mother understood, for many a night she had soothed her child after the horrible nightmares of that time so long ago.
A bell rang over the huge fireplace, and Tilly took off her apron, handing it to one of the serving girls. She went from the kitchen and made her way to the parlor, where Mrs. Jackson had been all morning in preparation for the return of her daughter.
"You wanted me, Missus Jackson?"
The woman turned china blue eyes upward, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. Even at the age of fifty-six, Sandra Jackson was a remarkably beautiful woman. She pushed back a curl of her elaborately coifed hair that even now held much of its original color.
"Tilly, what do you think? Should I invite the Jeffersons for the engagement party?"
Tilly smiled. It wasn't unusual for the woman of the house to ask advice of her slaves, for she didn't see them as such. Tilly had been present at the birth of Adelaide, the Jacksons' only child. After Tilly helped to resuscitate the infant, Mrs. Jackson had held Tilly in high esteem. They were more like friends than mistress and servant.
"Now, missus. You know Abe Jefferson done just about broke his heart over Miss Adelaide's engagement. He been in love with her fo' a long time now."
The frown increased. "I know, but his mama and papa have always been close friends of ours. I can't just not invite them, can I?"
Placing her hands on her hips, Tilly studied her mistress. "Iffen you invited 'em, they'd come, but I don' think Mr. Abe will. I betcha he'll find a reason not to."
The frown cleared. "Of course. How silly of me." She smiled at Tilly, rising to her feet. Her gown billowed round her as her hoops swayed from side to side. "Tell Eli to fetch the carriage, will you? He can hand deliver all the announcements."
Tilly followed her mistress from the room, shaking her head slightly. No wonder Mr. Jackson adored her. It was really hard not to.
* * *
The storm passed and with it Jenny's fear. She rose from the bed and went to the door. One thing about such storms, they cleaned the air and scattered the mosquitoes. Jenny knew it wouldn't last long, though, so she was reluctant to open the door again.
Before long the room was like a bake oven, and Jenny knew she had no choice. Opening the door, she took a deep breath of the freshly washed air.
Her father was dozing in the rocking chair. Lips twisting up at the corners, Jenny studied the sleeping man; she grinned openly when he shook himself awake with a loud snore. He continued as though their conversation had never been interrupted.
"You gonna run away? And what if a storm comes, what you gonna do then? You think it ain't gonna rain anytime while you out on the road? Then you betta plan on leavin' in the winter, huh? But then you just might freeze ta death."
Jenny quailed at the thought of being caught out in a storm. It was almost enough to make her rethink her position. Almost.
She went to the kitchen area to begin preparing supper. Mama would be home soon, and she would be tired. Pulling a pan from the cupboard, Jenny dropped in a lump of lard. After lighting the fire in the fireplace, she placed the pan in the fireplace oven to melt the grease, while she began putting together the ingredients for cornbread.
Beating the batter gave her some satisfaction, and she continued doing so longer than she really needed to. Could she really leave Mama and Pappy? Her heart sank at the thought. They had to come with her. They just had to.
Pulling the pan from the oven beside the fireplace, Jenny wished again for the coolness of autumn. Having to use the fireplace to cook made eating an almost unenjoyable chore. She poured the batter into the melted grease and returned the pan to the oven.
Jenny knew that Pappy would talk with Mama about what she had told him. Would Mama see things her way, or would she side with her father?
She hadn't long to find out. A sound at the door indicated her mother's return. Sometimes Mama seemed to have second sight, and tonight was no exception. She glanced from one to the other.
"All right. What's goin' on here?"
Jenny's eyes refused to meet those of her mother. "Nothin'. Sit down, Mama. Supper's almost ready." When Jenny did manage to look at Mama, she met a determined look that Jenny knew she had no hope of thwarting. "Can we eat first?" she pleaded.
Her father rose to his feet. "I think tha's a good idea."
Tilly waited until they were seated around the table and grace had been said before fixing her daughter with an eloquent look. She said nothing, waiting for Jenny to speak.
Jenny's chin set in a determined line that more than matched her mother's. "I tole Pappy that I think we could run away to the No'th. They's enough folks on the Railroad to help us." Her eyes met her mother's, and at her surprised look, Jenny rushed on. "We could find a place up No'th and be free. We could have a good life."
"We have a good life here," Mama told Jenny flatly.
Angrily, Jenny rose to her feet. "But we not free!"
"What you talkin' about, girl? The Jacksons is good to us. Why, they almost like family. You and Miss Adelaide was raised together, like sisters. If it hadn't been fo' Miss Adelaide, you wouldn't even be able to write and read. She helped you learn, even though it was agin the law."
Jenny began to pace the floor in agitation. "I know all that. But I'm still not free! I wanna be free." Her voice lowered in pleading as she tried to make her parents see.
Tilly shook her head slowly. "What you gonna do in the No'th that you cain't do here?"
"I can marry who I want! I don' have to worry about my chillun being taken away from me. I don' have to worry about my husband being sold to someone else so he can be a stud for mo' little slaves."
"Mr. Jackson ain't never done no such thing, and he wouldn't, either," her father admonished gently. "He a good man."
"You keep saying that! But the point is, he could if he wanted to."
Her mother got up and began to clear the table. "The world could end tomorrow. I could die tomorrow. Jes's baby could be born tomorrow. Your pappy could go blind tomorrow. They's a bunch of things that could happen, but why worry 'bout 'em till they do?"
Jenny sighed in frustration. This was getting her nowhere. Her parents had obviously decided, and that was that. She knew from past experience that you could move a mountain easier than her parents when they had fixed something in their heads.
"I'm gonna go see Jes," she told them. Her parents watched her leave without saying a word.
She headed for her brother's cabin just a short distance away. Mr. Jackson had allowed Jes and Dinah to marry several months ago, and now they were expecting their first child. Would that child ever know freedom? Would Jes and Dinah want to come with her when she left?
Obviously not. Her brother faced her across the little cabin, his eyes shooting sparks of anger. "Are you outta yo' min'? What you mean comin' here and talking to us 'bout runnin' away? Girl, you gotta be crazy!"
"Don' you want yo' son to be free? Don' you wanna be?"
Jenny saw the fearful look Dinah gave her husband. Jes was a powerfully built man, his muscles evidence of the long hours he spent in the fields. Surely he wasn't afraid.
"Jenny," he told her, "if you runs away, they gonna come askin' us 'bout you. What you think we gonna tell 'em? Did you even stop to figger what this might mean to the rest of us? What they gonna do to us?"
"Come with me and they won' do nothin'."
Jes shook his head. "We don' wanna leave, Jenny. Massa Jackson, he good to us." He pulled his wife to his side. "What you think gonna happen to the baby if we try runnin' away?" He shook his head again. "No, Jenny. We gonna stay."
Jenny left their house feeling defeated. How could anyone in their right minds want to remain a slave if there was even the slightest chance of freedom? Her parents were old. In a way she could understand them. But Jes? He was young, strong. He had a family to think about. Here they would never be more than slaves at the whim of their master.
True, Master Jackson was a good man, but what if he changed? Jenny had seen such before.
When she returned to her cabin, her parents were already in bed. Tired out from their day's work, they were already asleep.
Dropping her dress to the floor, Jenny pulled her cotton nightdress over her head. She would have preferred sleeping without it in the almost unbearable heat, but her parents' conventional upbringing made her decide otherwise. She crawled into her pallet on the floor and stared up at the shadows created on the ceiling by the full moon peeking through the windows. Her thoughts raced around inside her head, one followed by another.
She wanted her freedom so badly she could almost taste it, but could she leave her family? What was she going to do now? If she stayed, she would be constantly chafing at her forced servitude, but if she left, she knew she would miss Mama and Pappy.
How long she lay there she didn't know, but a scratching at the shanty window brought her to her feet. Apparently her parents had not heard the sound, and Jenny hesitated, wondering if it had been her imagination.
When the scratching came again, it was followed by a soft whistle. Recognizing the sound, Jenny hurried to the door, unmindful of her night clothes. She closed the door behind her, listening carefully.
"Jenny, over here." The furtive whisper sent Jenny spinning around. Amelia crouched by the side of the shanty. She rose quickly to her feet, motioning Jenny to her side.
They walked a ways from the house and Jenny could feel her friend trembling at her side.
"Melia, what's the mattah with you? What you doin' here this time of night?"
Turning, Amelia clutched Jenny's arm. Her eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness. "Jenny, did you mean what you said 'bout runnin' away?"
Surprised, Jenny stopped walking. "What? What you talkin' 'bout?"
"You said you was gonna leave this here place. Remember? Well, I wanna come wit you."
"When?"
"I gotta leave befo' Friday. I heard the missus talkin' and she gonna send me south."
Jenny could feel the blood drain from her face. Going south meant never being seen or heard from again.
"Why she wanna do that?"
Amelia grimaced in the dark. "Why you think? She tired of lookin' at me and knowin' what her husband did. Maybe she think if she get rid of me, then she get rid of her shame. I don' know, I jus' know I cain't go south. I'd rather die."
Thinking quickly, Jenny told her friend, "Go back to the plantation. I got some thinkin' to do. Some plans to make. I won' let 'em send you south."
"What'll you do?"
"Miss Adelaide won' be comin' home till next week, so I won' be missed till then. Tomorrow's Thursday. I'll come fo' you tomorrow night. Be ready. When you hear me singin' 'bout the drinkin' gourd, you meet me at the edge of the woods borderin' Massa Greer's plantation. We gonna follow the drinkin' gourd to the No'th."
Both girls looked up at the night sky riddled with dots of light. Their eyes turned to the faint North Star and followed it downward to the drinking gourd, or what some called the Big Dipper.
"What you think that gourd's fo', Jenny? Why you think it placed in the sky that way?"
Jenny's voice came back, soft and gentle. "It's fo' people who want to drink of freedom. They just drink from the sky."
Amelia clutched Jenny's arm. "You won' change yo' min', will you?"
Jenny shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the North Star. "No. You go on home, now. I'll come fo' you tomorrow. If Moses can do it, so kin I."
Amelia snorted softly. "Moses, she had God on her side. So did the Moses of ole. You don' even believe in Him."
Jenny closed her lips tightly together. "Go on home, Melia. I come fo' you tomorrow."
After Amelia left, Jenny reluctantly returned to the cabin. She opened the door, trying to keep it from squeaking. Closing it softly behind her, she nearly jumped from her skin when her mother spoke from the darkness.
"What you been up to, girl?"
Thankful for the cover of darkness to hide her giveaway face, Jenny told her mother, "Nothin', Mama. I jes couldn't sleep. It's way too hot."
Jenny could sense through the darkness her mother's disbelief, but Mama didn't say anything. Jenny lay back down in her bed, for the first time realizing what she had just done. She had committed herself to an act that could have serious repercussions for her family.
In that moment of decision, her thoughts clarified. It would be best if her family knew nothing of her plans, because then when they were questioned, as they most assuredly would be, they could with honesty say they knew nothing.
A flash of lightning in the distance made her heart suddenly start to pound. It was one thing to talk brave, but quite another to pull it off. What on earth had her impulsiveness caused her to do now?
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Drink From the Sky by Darlene Mindrup. Copyright © 1999 Barbour Publishing, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Truly Yours.
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