Story: Colonel Williams, Ch. 9, pt. VIII

Finally, the end of Chapter 9. I tried not to rush it, but I had to finish. Be warned; it is long.

Having crossed the stream, she turned westward, heading back towards the town. She was unsure exactly how far should have to go, but she knew that it would take her about thirty minutes to reach the river that marked the east edge of town.
As she walked, she noticed how bright and clear that the air was. The birds’ songs seemed to glow with the same glorious excitement that she felt within her. She was on her way! She now only had to make it through town and she was free.
The town! How was she ever going to make it through there unobserved? Once the search began, Walters would doubtless send some men back towards town to try to find her. She had to get through without being spotted by anyone. Yet she was not sure how. She put that decision aside, instead choosing to enjoy this pleasant part of her escape.
Too soon the forest gave way to open plain, and in the center of the plain ran a narrow road. Forty yards past the road lay the river that meandered past town. By now, the sun had risen fully in the sky and the early-morning raucous of river creatures had quieted into a silence broken by the occasional splash of a leaping fish or the croak of a frog.
Maria wanted to stick to the road yet still keep to the cover of the forest as much as possible. Keeping the road in sight on her right, she walked south, skirting the edge of the forest, prepared at any many to dart back inside should she see or hear any sign of traffic along the road. Three times, she had to hide herself, each time from the rattle of a cart that came from the north.
Finally, as she drew near to the crossroads, the forest gave way. Reluctantly, Maria took to walking on the very edge of the road, picking the side nearer to the river where the tall grass in the ditches offered the best cover.
Maria no longer enjoyed the walk, for now the threat of discovery and the realization that anyone who saw her could be one of Walters’ men put her senses on alert for any sound or movement that would be her cue to hide. Slowly she moved forward towards the main east-west road that led out of town, as cautious as a kitten.
Eventually, the east-west road appeared in front of her. No traffic moved along it, but from across came the sounds of the town, awake and active. The greatest threat to her ability to make it freely to the Williams estate lay in front of her. If she could get across the bridge and through town unnoticed, she would be, for all practical purposes, free. She walked along the north edge of the road, creeping towards the bridge, wary of potential traffic.
Just as she was about to leave the brush to get on the road, she heard the rattling of two vehicles coming out of town. Determined not to be seen, she threw herself back in the ditch beside the road.
Within a few moments, a coach rolled into view, followed by an open cart. The coach Maria recognized instantly as Walters’. She did not recognize the driver of the cart, but one of its occupants caught her attention. It was Alejandro!
Maria nearly stood up in shock. What was he doing in that cart, and with whom was he riding? Was the driver of the cart one of Walters’ men, or was he just a man who was on the same road out of town?
As Maria took in all of this, the two vehicles moved out of sight. Slowly, Maria stood up, unsure of what she had jus seen. She had not thought that Alejandro would be so close. She fully expected to have to search for him and Emilia once she herself was free. Now, she knew that her search would be easier.
Determined more than ever to make it through town unnoticed, Maria climbed out of the ditch. As calmly as she could, she walked across the bridge into town. People clogged the streets in the mid-morning bustle of market day. Everywhere Maria looked, she saw people scurrying about their business, too busy to even notice anyone around them. Keeping to the crowds to be as unobtrusive as possible, she made her way through the town and eventually to the west road that led to Colonel Williams’ estate.

“I walked for about thirty minutes,” Maria added, “and I had been here for about then minutes when you returned, Colonel Williams. I realize now that you are the man I saw with Alejandro in the cart. Are you one of Walters’ men?” Her question held great fear.
Williams heard the fear in her voice and answered reassuringly, “No, Maria, I’m not. When you saw us drive by, we were headed to get you from Walters. Before we left, he gave us a letter that allowed his lawyer to write this.”
He held up the transfer of ownership certificate. “You are now under my authority, and my first act as your new master is to release you from slavery. You are now free.
Maria’s face exploded in joy. “Oh, gracias, thank you, thank you, Señor Williams.”
José entered the room just then. “Colonel,” he said, “supper is ready.”
“Thank you, José,” replied Williams. “Have the cook set an extra place.”
José nodded and left. With a welcoming wave of his hand, Williams beckoned everyone to follow him to supper.

Story: Colonel Williams, Ch. 9, pt. VII

Chapter 9 just keeps going. I'm trying to finish it up, but I keep finding that there's more ground to cover. I'll try to get the last piece put together and posted by next Wednesday, but I doubt I'll get much more posted before that. I have a very busy weekend.

About half an hour later, she heard a carriage – presumably Walters’ – rumble off of the farm. She waited for a few minutes before she put her plan into motion.
Slowly, she walked up to the door and called sweetly out to Neol, “Mr. Neol, sir, I don’t suppose that there’s any way you could let me out of here for a couple of minutes to use the outhouse?”
From the other side of the door, Neol replied, “No, ma’am, there ain’t no way that I can a-do that. You know that you’re only allowed to go there when both me and Tyrone are present, and he’s asleep right now after a long night of huntin’. You’ll just have to wait.”
“Please,” pleaded Maria in the pitiful voice that had always allowed her to talk her way out of getting in trouble with her teachers. “Please, let me go. You can escort me, but I can’t wait for him to wake up.” She ended her request with just the right mixture of sweetness and feebleness. A lost, hungry puppy could not have made a more heart-wrenching appeal.
Neol thought for a moment. “Well,” he answered finally, “all right. I’ll a-let ya out for just a minute, but don’t a-tell Mr. Walters what I done. He won’t take too kindly to me stretchin’ the rules like this.”
(Maria always regretted what she did next. In fact, years later, when she was able to bring Neol to work for her, she treated him quite well, like a member of her family.)
Just as Neol started to open the door, she hid behind it. Then, once Neol had walked farther into the shack, she struck him hard from behind, hitting him in a spot on the back of his head that would leave him unconscious but alive. Then, she quietly slipped out of the building and headed towards the creek, her eyes blinded by the barely-risen sun.
The rest of the plantation still slept as Maria stealthily crept towards the creek. She ran as quickly as she could, knowing that she had to reach the creek before anyone else awoke. Upon arriving at the creek, she took extra care to leave footprints pointed eastward in the drying mud. After crossing the creek and cleaning her feet in the grass on the far side, she turned towards the north, where an outgrowth of the forest lay.
Once inside the forest, her main challenge lay in keeping a northerly path until she could find an easy place to cross the creek again. Thankfully, the forest roof was thin enough to allow sunlight to get through. Maria always knew where the sun was. After a few minutes of jogging, she found a spot where the creek tapered off to a trickle, and she easily leaped across it.

Story: Colonel Williams, Ch. 9, Pt. VI

Maria knew that she could not leave immediately because of rain that had fallen that day. The ground would be muddy, and she would leave tracks that could be easily followed. To prepare for her escape, she started talking to Neol, the man who guarded her during the day, in order to get information about the terrain around the farm.

“There’s a-woods to the north, ma’am,” said Neol when she asked him what was around the farm, “and a crick off to the east; it’s usually a little muddy down there this time of the year, but it’s a great place to go a-huntin’ for crawdads. Now, off to the south and east, there ain’t nothin’ too terribly interestin’, just farmland. But them woods, man, let me a-tell ya, those are some great places. Why my old dog, Pontrus and I, we used to a-go off into the woods…”
Neol trailed off into a long, dull story of his adventures with his childhood dog, which Maria did her best to feign interest in. Her mind was busy plotting her exact escape route. Still, she had to wait for the ground to dry.
The humid early spring weather caused the ground to dry slowly. Over the next two days, Maria could see through a hole in the wall that the ground outside of the shack grew drier and drier. Finally, two days after the cook was thrown in the shack, Maria knew that the ground was just right for escape. She would leave no tracks in the mud, nor would she leave tracks in the dust. Once nightfall arrived, she would be off, sneaking past the often-sleeping night guard and on to freedom.
Walters caused her to speed up her plans. Early in the morning he burst into the flimsy shanty in a rage. “All right you,” he bellowed, “I’m heading into town right now to see the man who sold you to me. I know that he doesn’t take back slaves, but I’m hoping that he’ll give me my money back, unless, of course, you’re willing now to work. You have refused to do even the simplest chores, and I’m not going to keep feeding and housing a useless slave. You will start working.”
It was a demanded Maria had heard many times before. She never answered it.
“Still refusing to speak!” cried Walters incredulously. “Let me warn you right now that my patience is about up. If you don’t decide to work for me, then there’ll be worse than this for you.” He cracked the whip over her a couple of times.
Maria, still playing the part of a forlorn servant, began to cry.
Walters cursed. “Enough with the infernal crying!” he shouted. “That’s all you ever do is cry. Well, you can cry all you want, because I have no sympathy. And if you haven’t changed your ways by the time I get back from town, I may just decide that you’re not worth keeping around – alive.”
Maria paused in her faux crying at the shock of what she had just heard. Could any man be so cruel as to kill someone who refused to submit to his tyrannical rule? She had heard of dictators in distant countries who did such things, but never had she met anyone that would do something do cruel.
Walters noticed her shock. “I see that you value your life,” he said, misunderstanding her pause to mean that she was considering working. “Well, you have about four hours before I get back. By then, I hope that you’ll have changed your mind and be willing to work. Good bye.” He turned and left.
How the noose had closed around Maria! She did not doubt that Walters would kill her upon his return, yet she also knew how difficult a daylight escape would be. She had to find a way past Neol and off of the property without raising the alarm. Moreover, she had to do it quickly, because the greater the head start she had on her pursuers the better.

Story: Colonel Williams, Ch. 9, pt. V

Here is part V. I'm working my way towards the end of the chapter, but there's still more to go. Enjoy!

“Did you say that he redeems slaves?” asked Maria, her curiosity piqued.
“Yes,” the cook answered, “he is a rich man who is very merciful. No one knows why he does it, but he’s just started doing it. If I knew that I could get away without being caught, I’d go myself, but I know that if I escape, they’ll kill me because I’ve run away twice already. They’ve told me that the next time they find me outside the plantation grounds without their permission I’ll be shot on sight.”
The cruelty of such an arrangement amazed Maria. She had expected to escape the barbarism of civil war when she had fled Cuba with her family. Now, she found the same depravity at work in America.
“How far away does he live? How do I get there?” she asked
“Well,” replied the cook, “it wouldn’t be easy. First, you’d have to get off of the grounds without being caught. Then, you’d have to make the trip – which would take the better part of a day on foot – without being caught. You’d have to cross the river into town, and there’s only one way to do that, the bridge on the main road into the east side of town. After that, you’d have to find your way to West End Road, which would lead you towards Providence. Once you had found that road, it’d just a matter of getting to Providence before the catch you.”
She slid back to far wall of the shack and sighed. “But there’s not much hope in that. The minute everyone knew that you were gone, they’d sound an alarm, and master Walters would send every one of his men out after you. There isn’t much hope of getting away, then, because they’d all be on horses and you’d be on foot.”
“That does sound like a challenge,” Maria said thoughtfully. Hope arose within her.
Here was the chance she had been waiting for! She now knew where to go. Her only obstacle was getting away from Walters’ property with enough of a head start that they would not be able to track her down before she reached town. In the back of her mind, she already began formulating her plans for escape.
“Yes, missy,” the cook said, “it is. And one that I don’t particularly feel like taking. I value my life too much to lose it on same crazy escape that may or may not work. I would rather live in this misery than die.”
“But isn’t it worth the risk to try to get freedom?”
“No way. At least here I get food and shelter. I have no family left. My parents and my siblings died in the hurricane that hit the coast last year.”
“Then you have nothing to lose,” Maria argued.
“I could lose my life easily enough,” countered the cook, “and that’s about all I have left right now. At least I’m alive.”
Maria tried to convince the cook that escape was worth trying, but she gave up when it became clear that the other woman, in an odd way, actually loved her life too much to be willing to risk losing it for the sake of being out of slavery. Even if Colonel Williams were to ride up to the plantation that day and tell this slave that he wanted to redeem her, it appeared that she would refuse his help. The realization that this woman would probably die in slavery because she loved comfort more than freedom saddened Maria.
In a few hours, Tyrone came in, roughly grabbed the cook and dragged her back to the house. Maria never saw her again.

Story: Colonel Williams, Ch. 9, pt. IV

Sorry. I'm late with this post. I'll try to get one more up by Wednesday.

Maria continued to cry for several more minutes to make sure that she truly seemed distraught. From that point forward, whenever she knew someone was near, she did her best to cry and wail as much as possible.
A few hours later, Mr. Walters visited the prison, carrying with him a thick whip of solid leather. After Maria refused to answer any of his questions, he used it savagely on her. In spite of the terrible pain, she did not move and refused to answer any of his questions.
This incident replayed itself every morning for the next three days, which seemed to stretch on forever in Maria’s mind. Long periods of idleness mixed with hours of crying and wailing. She eventually found that real despair was beginning to set in, despite her best efforts to control it. She had to escape, but where would she go? She did not know the terrain, and she was not dressed appropriately to be outside in the middle of a cold spring night. She needed to have a plan, and it was on the fourth day of her imprisonment that the answer was thrown into the cell with her.

Just after lunch on that day, a young woman was flung into the jail with Maria. The unfortunate girl had a large welt across her face, obviously the result of a cruel whip blow. The woman did not move from the spot where she landed, but rather rolled over onto her back and groaned in pain. Tears began to form in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” asked Maria.
The woman did not answer; she merely began to cry. Maria slid over to the crying woman, took her in her arms and sat there for a long time, comforting her as one would comfort a distraught child.
Finally, the woman spoke. “Do you have any water?”
Maria walked over to the rusty tin pail that held her day’s supply of water. She returned with the pail to the woman, who took a large drink before returning the pail to Maria.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad you were in here. It’s much harder to be in here alone.”
“Are you saying that you have been in here before?” asked Maria. It was the first words she had spoken in several days, and she struggled a little with finding the correct English words to use.
“Yes,” the slave replied, “I get thrown in here about once every month, usually when Mr. Walters is in one of his more foul, more drunken moods.”
“What do you do that causes him to treat you so poorly?”
“I’m the cook,” answered the woman, “and it’s generally some sort of silly reason, like the biscuits were undercooked or the beans overcooked or the stew wasn’t quite right.
“I’ll tell you this, that I’ve about had enough of this kind of treatment. I hear that there’s a man who lives on a plantation west of town who will redeem slaves from the owners and let them work for him as employees. They say that all you have to do is to get to his plantation and ask for his help. He’s already redeemed fifteen or twenty in the past week, or so the story goes. His name, they say, is Colonel Williams, and he runs a plantation called Providence Estate.”
This story, of course, was exaggerated. The story of Williams rescuing Alejandro and redeeming Pedro had spread throughout the slave community. Few slaves dared try to escape, but it was encouraging for them to tell the story nonetheless.

Story: Colonel Williams, Ch. 9, pt. III

Before the sun had finished clearing the horizon the next morning, Tyrone entered the prison and woke the women. Maria had managed just a couple of hours of sleep, but her experience in espionage helped her stay focused. She knew that if she kept her emotions under control that she would find a way to escape. If only she knew where to go!
“You three will all work in the house,” Tyrone said without preamble, “and you will be expected to do your jobs well or there will be consequences.” He patted the whip that was looped over a hook on his belt.
The other two women immediately crawled forward and knelt next to Tyrone in a display that sickened Maria greatly. Here they were, torn from their families, treated like mere property instead of like human beings, and these two women grovel in near-worship at the feet of their oppressor. Had they truly given up any hope of ever being free? It made no sense to her. She would not give up her freedom so easily; she was ready to fight.
Tyrone noticed that Maria had not moved. “Come on, woman,” he ordered fiercely, “on your knees!” He pulled out his whip menacingly.
Maria did not move. She knew that if she did not start to fight now, then would quickly surrender to enslavement.
Tyrone raised the whip over his head and lashed it out at Maria. She was ready for it, though, and barely ducked out of the way. This evasion further enraged Tyrone, and he proceeded to lash at her numerous times with the whip. Sometimes, Maria succeeded in dodging the cruel blows. In the end, though, she found herself curled up on the ground, in pain from the blows of the whip. She cried, not because she could not control her emotions but because she knew that her chances for escape were better if she seemed downtrodden.
“Now, missy,” growled Tyrone, “are you going to come inside and work, or are you going to stay right here?”
Maria did not speak a word to answer. She merely lay on the ground, crying.
“Fine!” Tyrone shouted. “Stay there. I’m going to tell Mr. Walters about you, and I assure you that he won’t be too thrilled about your attitude.”
He stormed out of the prison, the other two women following him subserviently.

Story: Colonel Williams, Ch. 9, pt. II

This chapter has turned out to be longer than I thought. I'll try to keep working on pieces of it until I get done.

The hubbub of the slave market had faded into dull silence. The last of the slaves had been bought more than twenty minutes ago, and the final payments had been made. Walters was the last to pay for his purchases. As he returned from the business office, he met Tyrone and the two other female slaves he had purchased that day. All of them stood near the rope at the edge of the stage. Maria stood a little apart from them, her eyes glazed over with sadness. Tears welled up on the edges of her eyes.
Walters and Tyrone began to move towards the exit. The other women followed obediently, but Maria did not. After a few steps, Walters walked back over to her. “Move, slave!” he bellowed, grabbing her arm and giving her a harsh shove towards the exit.
Maria quietly obeyed, mindlessly lifting one foot and then the other. She walked for what seemed to be a vast distance before she arrived at the street that ran in front of the market. By now, the setting sun produced elongated shadows that made everything seem menacing and evil. Two vehicles awaited Walters: his coach and an open, unpainted, rickety cart.
Without a word, Tyrone led the women to the cart and ordered them to climb in. He did not help them, even though the step up was great. A thin layer of old, moldy straw covered the bed of the cart, and Maria did the best she could to find a comfortable way of sitting on the appalling surface. Just as she had gotten seated, Tyrone began to chain the three women together using a strong iron chain. He wrapped each woman’s wrist to the other in a figure-eight pattern before moving on to handcuff the next one in a similar fashion. Once all three women were joined together, he ran the chain through a ring attached to the front of the cart bed. He locked it with a padlock. There would be no escaping on the journey.
Hopping over to the driver’s seat of the cart, Tyrone cracked his whip over the two horses that pulled the cart, and off they sped. They moved at an amazingly fast speed. Walters and Tyrone were apparently in a hurry to get as soon as possible. It was a bumpy, noisy ride. At any moment, it seemed as if they would have been thrown out of the cart if they had not been chained to it. Maria wondered more than once if the cart bed itself might give way, causing her to be dragged along the ground as Tyrone unknowingly sped on.
How long the journey took, Maria could not remember, but she knew that it was almost dark by the time the cart mercifully rattled to a halt in front of a crude wooden structure with one door and no windows. It looked as if it were built as a small tool shed, but it had been converted into a prison for new slaves. A single lantern hung by the door provided the only nearby light. A lone man with missing teeth guarded at the entrance.
Tyrone produced a key from his pocket, unlocked the padlock, and forced all three of the still-chained women into the shack. He undid their chains, warned them not to try to escape or they would shot, and left, closing the door behind him. With an ominous click, they heard the same padlock that had held them to the cart now seal them into their jail.
In the dim light that was available before the door closed, neither Maria nor the women noticed any furniture. The floor consisted of about six inches of packed straw, and one by one, the women found a comfortable place to lie down. The other two women fell asleep quickly, but sleep eluded Maria for several hours as she wrestled with the despair of being separated from Alejandro and Emilia.