Candle In The Darkness Part 5

"I would have brought my pole and taught you how to fish if it hadn't been the Sabbath," he said after a while.

I tried to picture myself fishing and couldn't. "I don't think proper young ladies are supposed to go fishing-even when it's not the Sabbath."

"Who says?"

"The teachers at my school in Richmond. They would think it was scandalous for me to go hiking in the woods with you, much less go fishing. They're always trying to teach us what's proper and what isn't. Above all, we're supposed to remember that we're delicate young ladies."

"Doesn't sound like much fun at all," he said, laughing.

"It isn't. Where do you go to school?"

"Me? Right here on the plantation. Father hired a tutor to teach my brothers and me. He's away now for the summer."

We rose after a while and continued our lazy hike. Jonathan pointed out many of the trees we pa.s.sed-sa.s.safras, willow oak, hackberry, sweet gum, Virginia pine, red cedar.

"Did your tutor teach you all those names?" I asked.

"No. Grandfather taught me."

I wondered if Grandfather had once taught my daddy the names of all the trees. And if he still remembered them.

Suddenly Jonathan stopped. He turned to me with a very serious look on his face. "You'd better wait back here where it's safe," he warned. "See that pit up ahead? We use it to trap wild animals. Who knows? There might be one trapped in there right now."

My heart leaped like a frog into a pond. "W-what kind of wild animals?"

"Oh, you know, wildcats, bears, panthers. . . ."

Fear froze me to the spot. The woods around me felt eerie and threatening. When something suddenly rustled in the bushes behind me, I ran into Jonathan's arms, clinging to him. "Take me home! I want to go home!"

To my surprise, he burst into laughter. "Oh, Carrie, I'm sorry. I was only teasing. There aren't really any wild animals."

I didn't want to let go of him until I was sure. "Th-then what was that sound?"

"I tossed a rock into the brush. I didn't know you'd be this scared. Honest, Carrie, I'm sorry." But it took him a minute to stop laughing. "You should have seen your face!" he sputtered. I managed to laugh along with him, mostly with relief.

"The pit is really our ice pit," he explained. "Come here, I'll show you. The servants cut blocks of ice from the river in the wintertime and bury them here, beneath the sand and leaves. They'll stay frozen a long time under there. That's how we have ice in the summertime."

I had to sit down by the edge of the pit until my knees stopped trembling. Jonathan dug up a chunk of ice and chipped off a few pieces with his pocketknife for us to suck on, wiping them clean with his handkerchief.

"You're a very pretty girl, you know that?" he said quietly. "I've never seen a girl half as pretty as you before."

I didn't know what to say. I also didn't know why my heart suddenly started to pound again, just as it had after Jonathan scared me.

"Come on," he said, reaching to help me up. "There's one more place I want to show you. I promise it's very safe."

"Promise you won't ever tease me again?"

"Well . . ." he said with a wide grin, "I promise I won't tease you again today today. How's that?"

He led me a long way into the woods until we came to a small clearing in the middle of a grove of pines. The trees were very tall, surrounding us like pillars, the branches arching overhead like the nave of a cathedral. The atmosphere was as hushed and reverent as any church sanctuary back home, and every bit as beautiful. Even the wind seemed to whisper, so I did, too.

"I would love to live here."

"Then why don't you?" I looked up at Jonathan to see if he was joking. He wasn't. "You don't have to go home when your father does. We drive into Richmond every month or so for supplies. We can take you home at the end of the summer."

I sat down on a fallen log to think about the idea and to enjoy the gentle beauty all around me. I couldn't understand why my daddy would ever want to leave a wonderful place like Hilltop to live in Richmond. I decided to accept my cousin's invitation and stay here a while longer. I liked the plantation. But even more, I liked Jonathan.

My cousin was handsome, kind, and lots of fun to be with. We'd already become good friends. But what I was beginning to feel toward him was very different from the childhood friendship I'd shared with Grady. I didn't realize it at the time, but Jonathan was fast becoming my first adolescent crush.

I loved the feel of his rough hand in mine, the hard muscles of his arm as we b.u.mped shoulders on the path. And as we sat side by side in the secluded grove, I wondered what it would feel like for Jonathan to kiss my neck the way Josiah had kissed Tessie's.

"Want an adventure?" Jonathan asked suddenly. "The Negroes are meeting here tonight. Want to sneak out and watch them with me? Your boy is going to preach."

"My . . . boy?" I was confused, thinking he must mean Grady.

"Yeah, your boy Eli. Don't you know he's the Negro folks' preacher? They're coming from all the neighboring plantations to hear him. But you can't tell anyone. It's a secret."

"Then how do you know about it?"

"I know lots of things." He stood, pulling me to my feet beside him. "So, do you want to sneak out tonight and watch or not?"

I fell asleep waiting for Jonathan, but as soon as I heard his soft whistle I was wide-awake. My heart began pounding when I saw him crouching outside on the porch roof, motioning to me through the open window. I never dreamed that I'd have to crawl around on the rooftop in the dark. But I'd already agreed to go on this adventure, and I was still wearing my clothes beneath the bedcovers. I tried to push aside my fear along with the mosquito netting that encircled my bed.

As I tiptoed across the room, I peered over at Tessie to see if my movements had awakened her. The lump on her pallet didn't move. In fact, she seemed unnaturally still. I looked closer and discovered that she'd padded her bed with pillows. Tessie was already gone.

Jonathan helped me climb through the window, and we crept across the roof to the ladder he had waiting. I closed my eyes and began to descend, careful not to look at the ground until I was standing safely upon it again. Then we raced across the dew-damp gra.s.s to the woods. I was excited-and terrified. The forest seemed much scarier at night, the sounds otherworldly. And walking down the narrow path in the dark was much harder, too. Jonathan gripped my hand tightly to keep me from stumbling.

"Are you sure there aren't any wild animals?" I asked.

"Just deer and skunks and racc.o.o.ns and such. Nothing dangerous. The worst we might run into are hogs. They run wild until slaughtering time. Sometimes the boars can be mean."

"Do you think we'll meet any boars?" I hated that my voice shook.

"I brought my knife," he said, pulling it from his pocket to show me. "Don't worry, you're safe with me."

We heard the sound of singing in the distance long before we got there. The Negroes were meeting in the same pine grove we'd visited earlier that day. When we were a short distance away, Jonathan steered me off the main path and we cut through the dense brush, careful not to be seen or to make too much noise. I saw flickering lights from two or three torches, but the meeting was hidden from view by a wall of quilts, strung on ropes around the perimeter of trees.

"What are the blankets for?" I whispered.

"To deaden the sound so it won't carry back to the house."

"But why?"

"Don't you know? The slaves are forbidden to leave the plantation without their masters' permission. And they're strictly forbidden to gather in groups like this without white supervision."

"Even for a church service?"

"For any reason. If they're caught they could be whipped."

I remembered the man with the lash-scarred back I'd seen down on Slave Row. The thought of someone doing that to Eli's broad back sent a shiver through me. "You're not going to tell anybody, are you?" I asked Jonathan.

"Of course not." He started to move forward again, then stopped. "And just so you know, it's against the law to teach them to read and write, too."

I remembered once asking my governess if Grady could study my lessons along with me. She had been horrified. "Those people can't learn things like this," "Those people can't learn things like this," she'd said. she'd said. "They don't have the same minds we do. You can't teach a dog or a horse to read, can you?" "They don't have the same minds we do. You can't teach a dog or a horse to read, can you?"

"Grady isn't a horse!" I'd protested. I'd protested.

"He isn't white, either."

"But why is it against the law for slaves to read and write?" I asked Jonathan. He looked astonished by my ignorance.

"Because if the Negroes can communicate in writing, they'll plan all sorts of things-secret things. Next thing you know, they'll write up some false papers and use them to run away. You have to kill a Negro if he learns to read and write."

Eli had said they would kill a Negro woman if she told who the father of her child was. I didn't want to believe that either one of them was telling the truth.

"Come on," Jonathan said, "follow me." He crouched down on his hands and knees to crawl forward. I tried not to think about snakes as I followed. Jonathan found a sheltered place for us under a bush, where we could see beneath the wall of blankets. Gra.s.s and insects tickled my arms and face as we lay down on our bellies to watch.

I can't begin to describe the sheer joy I witnessed that night. I'd never heard such singing before-certainly never in a church. The sound of it took my breath away. It was so much more than mere singing-it was dancing, swaying, clapping, shouting. A celebration. I couldn't stop my toes from tapping to the elaborate rhythms as the slaves clapped and stomped and drummed.

I never wanted the glorious music to end. But gradually it calmed down, changing into some of the slow, mournful songs I'd heard the slaves singing early each morning on their way to the fields and coming home again at night. By the time the music died away altogether, the people had found places to sit on the ground or on logs and tree stumps. Then Eli stepped forward to deliver his sermon, and I thought my heart would burst with love and pride. He began in the quiet, gentle voice I loved so much, but as he spoke I sensed a dreadful, wonderful power rising up inside him, transforming him.

"Long time ago," he began, "G.o.d's people all be slaves-just like us. But pretty soon Ma.s.sa Jesus hear them groaning down there in Egypt land. He hear how they suffering. He know how they yearn for freedom. That sound reach His ear. And it touch His heart. That's how I know He hears our groaning, too."

"Yes!" Some of the slaves began to shout and moan. "Hear us, Lord Jesus!" Eli continued to preach above the sound, spurred on by it, it seemed.

"Pretty soon the time come when Ma.s.sa Jesus say 'Enough!' He say 'No more' to this slavery! He say 'Let my people go go!' "

There were more cries and shouts of "Halleluia!"

Eli's voice thundered with power. "That's how I know time's gonna come for our freedom, too. Jesus know it ain't right to make people you property. It ain't right they sell us like a horse or a bale of cotton. Ain't right they whip us and treat us like animals. Ma.s.sa Jesus see everything we suffering, just like He see them Israelites suffering in Egypt land."

"Yes!"

"Amen!"

"And if we keep praying . . . if we keep believing . . . He gonna do right by us, too. He gonna hear our cry! And He gonna set us free free!"

The shouts and cries of joy rose in a great crescendo until I could barely hear Eli above it all.

" 'Cause the Lord is faithful to His people! He's a just Lord! A loving G.o.d! He gonna set us free from our bondage! Oh, yes sir! One day very soon we gonna be free at last!"

Suddenly Jonathan gripped my arm. When I turned and saw the look of alarm on his face, I nearly cried out in fright.

"What? What's wrong?" He scrambled from our hiding place, pulling me back the way we had come. "What's the matter?" I whispered again when we were on the main path.

"Your boy is preaching rebellion! He's trying to start a slave uprising, telling them they'll all be set free. This is exactly why slaves aren't allowed to meet, don't you see? There's more of them than there are of us. They'll rise up and kill us all in our beds some night, just like Nat Turner's men did."

"What are you talking about?"

"A slave named Nat Turner started an uprising just like this, right here in Virginia. The slaves went from plantation to plantation one night, slaughtering white people in their beds-even women and children."

"Eli would never do that!"

"You're very naive, Caroline. All it takes is one or two troublemakers to start a mob. We can't let them plan a rebellion. We have to go warn Father."

"No, wait! That wasn't what Eli was saying. He wasn't telling them to rebel-"

"Caroline, we're wasting time!"

I was desperate to stop him. I couldn't let Eli get into trouble. I was certain my cousin had misunderstood. "Wait!" I pleaded. "Wouldn't it be better if we stayed a few more minutes and heard exactly what they're planning?" The shouting and singing had died down once again. Eli had resumed preaching.

Jonathan looked toward the clearing, then at the path home, then back toward the clearing again, as if trying to decide what to do. At last, he reluctantly agreed. "All right. We'll stay until we find out what their plans are."

We crawled back to our hiding place in time to hear Eli say, "Now, don't y'all be getting ahead of the Lord. That's what Moses try and do. He take matters in his own hands and he kill that overseer one day. Moses think he doing the Lord's work. But he ain't."

The grove fell silent. Eli had everyone's full attention. Even the women had stopped fanning themselves.

"Now, I know them overseers be mean men. I know they be hateful men. But we can't be deciding for ourself what G.o.d should do and who He should kill. We can't be telling G.o.d how to run His business. We got to wait for the fullness of time. We got to trust G.o.d's mercy and justice. When time come for us to be free-and it will come! Oh, yes sir, it will surely come!"

"Preach it, brother!"

"When the time come for our freedom, we won't have to lift a finger against our enemies. 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. I will repay.' We just have to sit back and watch-just like the Israelites sit back and watch. And G.o.d gonna send His plagues down upon this land. Gra.s.shoppers . . . and hail . . . and ruined crops . . . and dying cattle. G.o.d gonna send His plagues on this here land while we just sit back. And in the end, when G.o.d finish showing white folks His power, our time finally gonna come! We gonna be free free!"

This time there were no shouts. The people simply stared at Eli-unbelieving, yet yearning to believe.

"You say we not have to fight for our freedom, Eli?" someone in the crowd finally asked.

"Yes sir, that's what gonna happen. The Bible say it ain't by the sword that they won the land, nor did their own arm bring them victory. G.o.d do it for them, with His right hand, because He loved them. It ain't gonna be our power but G.o.d's power that set us free! And when He set us free, brothers and sisters, we be free indeed!"

The people were on their feet as one, clapping, dancing, shouting. Someone started singing a song about freedom. Above it all I heard Eli shouting, " 'Some trust in chariots and some in horses: but we will remember the name of the Lord our G.o.d.' "

I felt the thrill I always felt at Eli's conviction and faith. Then Jonathan tapped my shoulder and motioned for me to follow him.

"You aren't going to tell your father, are you?" I whispered when we were back on the path again. "You heard what Eli said- they won't lift a finger."

"I heard, but . . . what did he mean? G.o.d isn't going to set the slaves free. Slavery is part of G.o.d's plan. It's in the Bible."

"But the story Eli told is in the Bible, too. G.o.d did set the Israelites free. And they didn't have to fight the Egyptians. Pharaoh let them all go free after the firstborn sons died."

Jonathan waved impatiently. "I know the story. But those slaves weren't Negroes. The black race is cursed by G.o.d. Their skin color is the mark of Cain."

"How can you think that way? You said Josiah is your best friend."

"He is. But he's still a Negro. And he belongs to me, just like Tessie belongs to you."