A Desperate Road to Freedom Page 8

  Monday, August 24th, 1863

  Amelia and I have been climbing on the rocks whenever we can, except for one day when it rained. That day we stayed in at her house and her mother gave us milk and cookies. I am developing a fondness for those molasses cookies.

  Climbing on the rocks is exciting. I like it best when we get right up to the top and can look down over the city and the river, and right out to the harbour. Today we saw Amelia’s daddy’s steamer come in. Must be mighty fine to have a daddy who’s a ship’s captain. Not that my papa isn’t just as fine a man. He’s already got a reputation at the stables where he works. I heard a man talking about him the other day. “You got a problem with your horse,” he was saying, “you just talk to Moses Jackson over at Cooper’s stables. Isn’t anything that man doesn’t know about horses.”

  Guess that’s where Joseph gets it from.

  September 1863

  Friday, September 4th, 1863

  I had a nice day today. Amelia and I went into town after school and we went to Granny Taylor’s store. Granny Taylor sells apples and oranges and candies in a little store near the 8th Street bridge on the Sydenham River, close to the Market Square. Granny Taylor is a real cheery person. She gave us each an apple and a sweet. She threw a scrap to Boze, too. Her store is like a little bit of Paradise. She’s got pies and fruit and cakes and cookies — the whole place smells so good it just got my mouth to watering and my stomach to growling. I’ve seen her at our church. Everybody there knows her. And likes her, too, by the looks of it.

  When we left her store, I heard a great bell ringing. At first I didn’t know what was going on, but Amelia grabbed me by the hand and pulled me down the street.

  “It’s Daddy Hall,” she said. “He’s our Town Crier. Come on, let’s hear what news he’s got today.”

  Along came a coloured man, swinging a hand bell and calling out announcements. He was telling about sales of sheep and lambs and I don’t know what all. I didn’t understand all of what he was saying, but he had such a strong fine voice it was pure pleasure to hear him. We followed him all the way along the street back to the Market Square. He ended his announcements there and called out “God Save the Queen!” real loud. Then he turned to us and called us over. I was so mortified I could hardly bring myself to go, but Amelia just dragged me over.

  “Well now, Amelia,” he said to her, and stooped down to scratch Boze behind the ears. “I see you’ve been following me around as usual. How are you today and who’s your new friend?”

  “Her name’s Julia May,” Amelia answered, not shy at all. “Her family just got here a while back. Escaped all the way from Virginia, they did.”

  “Well now,” Daddy Hall said again. “That’s just fine. Welcome, Julia May. I hope you’re going to like Owen Sound.”

  I couldn’t find my voice but I finally managed to squeak out a “thank you” to him.

  “You all going to school?” he asked then.

  Amelia told him we were before I could get another word out. “We’re going together. We’re in the same class.”

  He nodded. “Good for you,” he said. “Education’s a mighty fine thing. Make sure you learn to read, now.”

  “I already can,” I blurted out, then bit my lip.

  “Then you’re well on your way,” he said. He gave me a pat on the shoulder and looked over to where a young girl was standing. He said it was his daughter, Elizabeth, come to fetch him home for supper. We waved to her and she waved back, then they both went off up the hill.

  Amelia told me he lives on the Pleasure Grounds. He was a slave, too, and escaped up here and has been the Town Crier for as long as she can remember.

  When I came back to our cabin for my supper, Mama had fixed fried chicken. My very favourite. After supper we sat outside until it got dark. The fireflies were out and making sparks all over the garden. It was so peaceful, I felt something inside me go all soft.

  Yes, Daddy Hall, I am going to like Owen Sound. I am going to like it just fine.

  Friday, September 11th, 1863

  So much going on! Sometimes it’s hard to find time to write in this journal. When I get home from school I like to go over the work I did during the day. Amelia laughs at me and says I’m taking things too seriously, but I want to learn as much as I can. Miss Wilson says I’m like a sponge, just soaking everything up. Noah understands. He comes over and studies with me. I’d better be careful — he bested me at the spelling bee today! We two are the best spellers in the class.

  Monday, September 14th, 1863

  Amelia and I went back to the rocks after school today. The weather’s been too drizzly lately, but today was sunny and dry. I wanted to ask Noah to come with us, but he was sort of quiet and said he couldn’t. Something’s bothering him, I think.

  Boze came with us, though. He always does. He just sits and waits at the bottom of the cliff. That is one devoted dog. He’s so funny. At first he was determined to go to school with me, but Miss Wilson didn’t take to a dog sitting outside the door all day. I had to make him stay back, but Mama says somehow he knows when it’s time for me to come home from school. He’ll be sleeping away, then suddenly his ears will prick up and he’ll jump up and trot off down the street. When I turn the corner he’s always sitting there in the middle of the road, waiting. Wagons and carriages have to go around him. He won’t move for anything.

  Tuesday, September 15th, 1863

  A terrible thing happened today. Noah got in a fight with a white boy from our class. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about. He just got angry — I’ve never seen him like that before. The other boy told Miss Wilson that Noah started it, and when she asked him if that was true he wouldn’t answer her, so he got the strap. Miss Wilson looked to be as angry as he was.

  Monday, September 21st, 1863

  I don’t know what is going on with Noah, I truly don’t. He got in a fight again today with another white boy. He still wouldn’t say a word, and he got the strap again. Miss Wilson says if he gets into one more fight she’s not going to let him come back to school.

  I am trying to talk to him about it, but he just snaps at me to hush up and leave him alone.

  There’s no call for him to treat me like that.

  Wednesday, September 23rd, 1863

  Well, Noah did get into another fight. This time with two boys at once, and he certainly didn’t get the better of it. His face is all beat up and one eye is swollen shut. You’d think Miss Wilson would feel a little sorry for him, but she doesn’t seem to. Just told him if he couldn’t behave better than that, to get out and not come back, so he stomped off home. It doesn’t seem to occur to her that the other boys were fighting, too, but I guess they just say Noah started it, and he won’t talk, so she believes them. That’s the easiest thing for her to do, I reckon.

  I don’t think I like her as much as I did.

  I ran over to his cabin as soon as school let out, but he wasn’t there. Missus Long looked to have been crying and she told me Noah had gone to the farm. Said he told her he was finished with school and he was going to go and stay with his papa and his brothers.

  “Oh, Julia May,” she said, “he’s talking about going to the lumber camp with them this winter, too. He’s too young for that! I did so much want him to get schooling while he had the chance.”

  I comforted her best as I could, but in my heart I’m so angry with him. Why did he have to get himself into such trouble? Whatever possessed him?

  Thursday, September 24th, 1863

  Well, I know now what possessed him and I’m feeling about as terrible as I could. What kind of a friend am I, anyway, not to know that Noah wouldn’t fight without a reason? I’m just as bad as Miss Wilson.

  When I got to school today those boys who fought with Noah were all standing together in a bunch and laughing to beat the band. “Guess we settled that boy’s hash,” they said, only the word they used wasn’t “boy.” It was a word I haven’t heard since we left Virginia and I’m not goi
ng to repeat it here.

  “Guess we got rid of him good and truly,” they said.

  At that, I couldn’t hold my tongue one minute longer. I just lit into them. Didn’t use any cuss words, but I gave them a tongue-lashing that would have done Mama proud. They were so surprised that they didn’t say a thing at first, then one of them picked up a stone. I decided I’d better get out of there, so I did.

  I thought about telling Miss Wilson, but I decided not to. I don’t think Noah would have wanted me to. It’s too shameful. That’s likely the reason why he wouldn’t say anything in the first place. I miss him, though, and I am vicious angry that he can’t go to school. He’s smarter than half the boys in that class. Guess they know it, too. Probably another reason why they hate him. They can’t bear to be shown up by a coloured boy.

  But I hope he’ll come back. I want him to come back.

  Friday, September 25th, 1863

  That fool dog can climb trees! I’m fond of climbing myself, but never thought he’d do what he did today. There’s a lovely big tree down by the river that has a bend in it just within reaching distance of the ground. I like to sit there and watch the water. Usually Boze just sits on the ground below me, but he whines a bit and doesn’t like it. Today didn’t he give a mighty leap and land up there beside me! I had to grab hold of him to keep him from going right over and falling off the other side. I was going to shunt him back down again, but he looked so happy sitting there with me, tail wagging hard, that I just let him be. Now I suppose he’ll want up every time I sit there.

  Saturday, September 26th, 1863

  Amelia’s daddy showed me all around his steamer today. It’s an elegant boat. Got a dining room and a place he calls a salon with big chairs covered in red velvet, and fancy tables and wood panelling on the walls. Even got rooms with bunks for passengers to sleep in. Amelia was pointing things out as much as he was. Acted like she owned the whole boat.

  Sometimes she is a bit too prideful.

  Monday, September 28th, 1863

  Guess Boze isn’t so much of a fool dog after all. In fact, he’s a hero. Today was a really nice day. Sunny and bright, but the air had a kind of crispness in it that I never felt in the air down home. People keep telling me I’m going to hate the winter here, it’s going to be so cold, but I like it so far. The leaves on the trees are turning all kinds of bright red and yellow colours. Looks like somebody painted them with all the brightest colours in their paintbox.

  Anyway, it was just the right kind of day to go down to the river and sit on my tree and look at the water after school let out. I set off with Boze, but didn’t realize Joseph was following me. I thought he was back with Mama, but she had shooed him out of the cabin and instead of finding a friend to play with, he decided to go with me. I didn’t know anything about it until I heard a kind of cry from upriver a bit. There’s a log there for people to go across on, and don’t you know Joseph had to try to cross over on it, and fell in. When I saw him he was being swept down toward me. He can’t swim, of course, and was just flailing around.

  I panicked. I can’t swim either, but I was just about to jump down off my tree into the water anyway, to try and catch him as he went past, when Boze took off in a giant leap and landed square beside Joseph with an enormous splash. For a moment all I could see was water spraying everywhere and Joseph thrashing around and Boze thrashing around, and then Joseph grabbed onto the dog and thank the Lord had the sense to stop struggling. Boze is a pretty big dog and he just turned toward the shore and swam back, towing Joseph along with him.

  I waded out and grabbed Joseph and hauled him in. By this time he was crying fit to beat the band. You’d think he was wailing about being near drowned, but it wasn’t about that at all.

  “Don’t tell Mama!” he kept crying. “Don’t tell her! She’ll paddle me for sure!”

  So I didn’t. We stayed away until his clothes dried out a bit, then went back and I didn’t say a thing. Mama’s used to him coming home wet and dirty, so she didn’t notice anything wrong. I gave that boy a talking to, but don’t know if it did a mite of good. Probably not.

  I’d love to tell Mama what a hero Boze was, but I can’t. I’ll tell Amelia at school tomorrow.

  Dogs seem to have more common sense than folks. How come they can just naturally know how to swim and people don’t?

  Tuesday, September 29th, 1863

  Amelia was impressed when I told her what Boze did. She thinks he should get a medal. So do I, but we can’t tell, so he won’t. Mind you, if Joseph gets to riling me too much, I can threaten him with it. Maybe that might make him mind a bit more.

  Wednesday, September 30th, 1863

  Something happened at school today. I’ve been worrying it over in my mind and getting angrier and angrier. Miss Wilson was complimenting me on my spelling. Since Noah’s gone, there’s nobody who can come near me in spelling now. I was feeling pretty happy over it. “Maybe someday I’ll be a teacher like you,” I said.

  Then she got this funny look on her face. “Oh, Julia May,” she said back, “you couldn’t possibly …”

  Then she shut her mouth tight and got all red in the face. She was so embarrassed, I got embarrassed, too, so I didn’t say anything more, but I’ve been thinking and thinking on it. What did she mean? Why couldn’t I possibly? Because I’m coloured, is that why? Don’t they let coloured girls be teachers? Don’t they let girls who’ve been slaves be teachers? Would the white people not want a coloured girl teaching their children?

  Come to think of it, I never did see a coloured teacher, not even in Toronto. They were all white.

  I’m mad as a hornet, but got nowhere to let it out. Not about to tell Mama. She’d like to go and give that teacher a piece of her mind, she would.

  Mama’s been acting strange lately, anyway. All happy one moment, then tired and fussed the next. I’m not going to give her anything more to trouble herself about.

  October 1863

  Friday, October 2nd, 1863

  I told Amelia what Miss Wilson said. I thought she’d be as mad about it as I am. Instead she just said, “Why would you want to be a teacher, anyway?” We were eating her mother’s good molasses cookies, and her mother was standing right there. Missus Pearce didn’t say a word, but her face did. Seemed plain to me that she agreed with Miss Wilson. I choked on a cookie and had to get right out of there.

  Sunday, October 4th, 1863

  Well, today something nice happened at church. We just finished singing the first hymn when Father Miller held up his hand and announced he had something to say. Then he told everybody that there was a girl with a fine voice in the congregation and he wanted everyone to hear it.

  He meant me! I near died when he beckoned me to come up beside him. “Sing the next hymn all by yourself, girl,” he said.

  I looked out at all those people and just prayed the floor would open and swallow me up. “I can’t!” I said, but it came out no more than a squeak.

  “You most certainly can,” he said. “Come along now, I’ll start you off.”

  Missus Leland started playing away on “There Is a Balm in Gilead,” Father Miller boomed out the first words, and I couldn’t do anything but join in.

  The Lord must have been listening and took pity on me, because after the first couple of lines I just forgot all about everybody else and sang for the pure joy of it. Wasn’t until I finished that I realized I was singing all by myself. Like to died, then, but the whole congregation started in to clapping and I could see Mama and Papa just beaming with pride. Even little Joseph looked impressed.

  I’m feeling a lot better today.

  Monday, October 5th, 1863

  I found out what’s the matter with Mama. She’s going to have a baby! I’m going to have another sister or brother. And this one won’t be born a slave! My new baby sister or brother will be born FREE. Nobody will ever be able to sell this child away from my Mama. This baby’s going to be the first free person in our family! Except for our ance
stors in Africa, I guess.

  Miss Wilson was talking about ancestors. Everybody in the class has ancestors that come from countries like Ireland or England or Scotland. I told them my ancestors came from Africa and they weren’t slaves. Not sure anyone believed me, though. Miss Wilson looked like she didn’t.

  But my ancestors did come from Africa. And maybe one of them was even the daughter of an African chief, just like Old Man Henson’s grandmother.

  It could be.

  But I didn’t say it. They didn’t want to hear it.

  Saturday, October 10th, 1863

  I saw Noah again today. It’s market day and lots of people were in town to sell their vegetables and fruit. Mister Long didn’t have anything to sell, but he had to pick up supplies. He and Noah turned up at Missus Long’s cabin early this morning. While he went into town, I grabbed onto Noah and took him down to my tree by the river. I had so much to tell him.

  First off, I apologized about being mad at him for leaving, but that didn’t go so well. He seemed more shamed than anything else that I had found out what those boys were taunting him about, so I changed the subject right quick. Told him all about Boze rescuing Joseph and showed him where it happened. He was impressed with that. Gave Boze a good scratch behind the ears. Boze seemed to know he was being praised for doing something special and he got that silly doggy grin on his face and just about wagged himself inside out.

  I wasn’t going to tell him what Miss Wilson said about me not being able to be a teacher, but somehow or other it just came out. I thought Noah wouldn’t want to talk about that, either, but he surprised me.

  “Know just how you feel, Julia May,” he said. Then he got all flustered and started throwing stones into the water.