Jump Ship To Freedom Part 4

The water was colder than I figured it'd be, but not so cold as to worry me. I began to swim, striking off toward Bedloe's Island about five hundred yards away. Behind me, from the ship, I could hear shouting. I knew they couldn't catch me. Captain Ivers had the longboat, and none of them on board could swim. I swum along for two or three minutes until I figured I was maybe fifty yards away, and then I stopped swimming, turned around in the water, and looked back. They was all standing at the rail, looking out at me. "Hey, Arabus," the mate shouted. "The old man's going to whip you good when he catches you. You better come back here."

I smiled a smile to myself, which they couldn't see. Then I gave them a big wave. "He's got to catch me, first," I shouted. I turned around again and began to swim at a nice steady pace toward Bedloe's Island.

It took me about ten minutes. I was pretty well blowed when my feet hit bottom, and my arms was tired, but I could have swum farther if I'd had to. It encouraged me that maybe I could make it from Bedloe's Island to Manhattan if I couldn't catch a ride first.

I climbed up out of the water and onto dry land. I turned around again and had a look at the ship. It sat there in the water, pretty still, with only one mast upright. I could see the little shapes of the men still leaning over the rail, trying to spot where I was going. It gave me a funny feeling to think that probably I would never see any of them again.

At the back of the sh.o.r.e there were woods. I walked into them, where they couldn't see me amongst the shadows from the ship, sat down, stripped off my clothes, squeezed them as dry as I could, and put them back on. Then I got up and walked through the woods toward the side of the island facing Manhattan. In a moment I came out of the woods again. There was a small stone house-for storage of some kind, I figured-and a wooden jetty sticking out into the water. Only one boat was tied up there. A man lounged against a post, smoking a pipe.

I was pretty nervous. Coming out of the woods with my clothes wet like that was bound to make anybody suspicious that I was a runaway. For a minute I thought maybe I shouldn't risk it-maybe I ought to jump back into the water and try to swim to Manhattan Island.

But that was risky, too, so I stepped out of the woods into the sunshine and trotted down to the jetty, trying to look as easy as I could.

The lounger watched me. When I came up to him I said, "Say, you ain't going into Manhattan, are you?"

The lounger took the pipe out of his mouth and puffed out smoke. "Maybe," he said. "Where you headed for?"

His words were sort of slow, and I could smell whiskey, so I knew he was a little drunk. That was all to the good. But I didn't know how to answer his question. I didn't know the names of the streets or anything. There was only one place I knew of, so I said it. "Fraunces' Tavern," I said.

"You work there?"

"I work in the kitchen," I said.

He put the pipe back in his mouth again. "How'd you happen to be out here?" he said.

I should have been ready for that. "Oh, I came out with a boat this morning, and they went off and left me."

The lounger puffed on the pipe. "They just up and left you?"

I wished I'd thought up a better lie. "I was back in the woods there and I got lost and couldn't find my way back," I said. I was beginning to feel p.r.i.c.kly and hot.

"You got lost? On an island that ain't more'n half a mile from the water in any direction?"

I blushed. "I ain't very smart," I said.

"No, I can see that," the lounger said. "A smarter liar would remember that his clothes was all wet."

"Oh." I couldn't think of anything more to say.

"Come on, now," he said. "Out with it. You fell off your ship. Which one was it?"

I looked down at my feet and blushed some more, which came pretty easy. "I'll admit it. I was standing watch and I saw a whale or something-leastwise I took it for a whale-and I slung myself out over the railing to get a look at it and I went over."

"I expect you was drunk," the lounger said, taking his pipe out again.

"How'd you guess that?"

"Most times a n.i.g.g.e.r falls over the side that's the reason. I expect you got into the ship's rum."

"Well, I'll be honest, I ain't much of a hand for drinking. I knew it was going to be chilly standing that early watch, so I had a tot of rum, and that one warmed me up so I figured two would do even better."

He nodded and put the pipe back in again. "I reckon it'll teach you a lesson. What did you say the name of the ship was?"

"The Housatonic," I said, which was the name of a ship from back home. "From Stratford."

"The Housatonic? Where's she berthed?"

"Well, that's just it," I said. "n.o.body saw me go overboard, so they went on into port. I ain't never been in New York before, so I don't know. Once I found myself in the water, I hit out for the nearest land I could see, which was this here island. I been hiding out in the woods. I was ashamed to show myself. But I'd sure like to get back to my ship."

"You're in for a good hiding, I expect."

"I reckon so, but it wouldn't be the first time. Just so's I get back to my people."

He was convinced. Being a little drunk, he didn't think it out too clearly, anyway. He was heading back across the harbor to Manhattan soon, he said, and if I'd take a turn with the rowing, he'd take me. Provided I didn't get to leaning over the side looking for whales, which was no doubt just porpoises, anyway. And so he did. As I sat pulling on my oar, I thought about how much smarter white folks are than black. Here he'd gone and made up a much better lie than I'd been able to think up myself, without even knowing the circ.u.mstances.

So we went on across the harbor and into the East River. I tell you, I'd never seen anything like it in my life. There was ships and boats everywhere you looked, tied up on docks or wharves along the waterfront, and coming and going up and down the river. There was every kind you could think of, from little fishing dories to great three-masted schooners that had been to England and Africa and India and places that you couldn't even imagine.

The lounger pulled the rowboat up to the wharf. "I'll drop you off here," he said. "You go on up and walk along the waterfront. You're bound to come across your ship somewhere along here."

Of course the last thing I wanted was to run into Captain Ivers and Big Tom. I was pretty nervous that they might be somewhere up there on the dockside. But I couldn't do anything about that, so I thanked the lounger, climbed out onto the wharf, and went up onto the street that ran away from the river. It was called Whitehall. I decided I'd better look close at the signposts, in case I had to get back in a hurry.

Oh my, was it busy. It was the middle of the afternoon. There were sheds and stalls and warehouses and shops and inns. And of course thousands of people everywhere-men and women and boys and lots of sailors, some dressed up fine, some drunk and dirty, some racing here and there carrying boxes or sacks over their shoulders, or pushing barrows filled with fish or meat or vegetables through the crowd. And everywhere barrels, boxes, casks, stacks of lumber, crates of chickens, cattle, bales of hay, bundles of cotton. It was all so rich, and busy, and full. Whitehall Street ended and I had to turn. I decided to go right on Dock Street.

Suddenly it came to me that for the first time in my life I was free. I stood there, letting the feeling of it rise up in me. There wasn't anybody around to tell me what to do. I could do whatever I wanted. I could stroll along the waterfront and take in the sights, I could set off for the wilderness, I could walk into one of the warehouses or shops along the dockside, take a job, and spend the money I earned any way that I wanted. Thinking about it, I felt light and sparkling inside. It was just about the sweetest feeling I'd ever had.

But then my worries came over me, and the sparkling feeling went away. The first thing was, I didn't have the soldiers' notes anymore-they was still tucked down inside that cherrywood linen chest on the Junius Brutus. The second was that Captain Ivers and Big Tom was certain to be around the waterfront somewhere. If they spotted me, I wouldn't be free anymore, I'd be on my way South to the cane fields. Captain Ivers was bound to reckon that if I ran off once, I'd run off again, and he'd sell me South sure as the moon.

What I had to do was to go to the Congress and find Mr. Johnson. But it was a mighty big city and I didn't have an idea where Congress was.

I was at the corner where Dock Street ran into a great, wide road just full of people and wagons and horses and cows, and even pigs. The signpost said Broad Street. So I slipped back out of the way and stood in the shadows of a long warehouse building, waiting for somebody to come along I could ask directions of who wouldn't ask too many questions back. And in about a minute there came along a little black girl, about ten years old, pushing a barrow filled with oysters. I reckoned she wasn't going to pry too much and wasn't likely to give me away if she got suspicious of me, anyway. As she went by, I grabbed her arm. "Say," I said.

She stopped pushing the barrow and looked at me. "What?" she said.

"I'm looking for the Congress. My master sent me down there with a letter. He told me how to get there, but I forgot. I'm bound for a licking if I don't get there soon."

"I don't see no letter," she said.

"It's in my shirt," I said.

"Who's it for?"

"That ain't none of your business," I said.

"How'd you get your clothes all wet?" she asked.

"You're pretty nosy, ain't you?" She was younger than me. I wasn't going to take anything from her.

"Tell me," she said, "or I won't tell you where the Congress is at."

I'd never met anyone like her for nosiness. "Don't you know it ain't polite to ask all those questions?"

"You asked the first question," she shot back.

"No, I didn't," I said.

"Yes, you did. You asked where the Congress was."

"That ain't the same," I said. Any minute Captain Ivers might come along. "Now tell me or I'll give you a cuff. I can't spend all day talking. I'm bound for a licking as it is."

She didn't say anything for a minute. Then she said, "I don't believe nothing you said. You been swimming around in the harbor. You jumped off your ship and run away."

I grabbed the collar of her gown. "You're a pretty smart darky, ain't you? Now cut out the sa.s.s and tell me where Congress is."

She began to squirm around. "I don't know where it is. Let go of my shirt."

"You don't know?"

"I never said I did," she said. She looked at me, worried.

"I ought to cuff you for wasting my time like that. My capt-I could have got into a peck of trouble standing around here."

"It ain't my fault," she said. "I didn't say I knew." She grabbed onto the barrow handles. "I got to go before I get a licking."

"A licking? You ain't likely to get the kind of licking I'll get if they catch me."

"Oh, you don't know," she said. "I work at the most famous tavern in America, and maybe the whole world. They make us step pretty smart."

"What tavern is that?" I said quick.

"Fraunces' Tavern. It's the most-"

I grabbed her by the neck of her gown again. "All right, Nosy," I said. "I'm giving you one last chance. You take me to Fraunces' Tavern and I won't cuff you. But no fooling around this time."

It was a stroke of luck. Of course it made me pretty nervous to think about going to see Black Sam Fraunces, being as he was so famous. Maybe he'd forgot all about my daddy. But he was sure to know where Congress was, and maybe how to find Mr. Johnson, too. I had to take a chance on it.

We set off. Nosy turned off from the waterfront, pushing the barrow before her, and I walked alongside. The streets was narrow and crooked and pretty muddy. The houses was right up against the street, and sometimes the cellar stairs cut into the roadway, so you had to watch out. There wasn't so many people coming along here as there was by the waterfront, but the people was made up for by the hogs and cows wandering around loose. There was plenty of dogs, too, and sometimes dead ones lying in the mud.

Finally we came out to where Broad Street met Pearl. "There it is," Nosy said, pointing. I looked down the street. I couldn't believe it. Back home a tavern was about the size of a house, with a bench out front for the loungers to sit on. Fraunces' Tavern was about the biggest building I ever did see. It was made of brick, four stories high with lots of chimneys in the roof, big windows sparkling in the sunshine, and a big fancy door with carvings all around. I could see why Black Sam Fraunces was so famous: I reckoned his tavern was the finest one in all of America. I got more nervous than ever. Why would anybody rich and famous as that take notice of somebody like me, who wasn't anything at all?

Nosy shoved the wheelbarrow along around back. I knew better than to go in through the front door, so I went around back with her. There was a stable there, and a couple of sheds I figured they used for storage, and a well with a big sweep for hauling the bucket up and down. There was people going to and fro in the yard on business-working the stables or carrying food and water in and out of the kitchen. A lot of them were black folks, too.

Nosy shoved the wheelbarrow up next to the kitchen door. "What are you going to do now?" she said.

"I ain't sure," I said. I was good and nervous. It didn't seem right for me just to go in there and barge up to Black Sam Fraunces like he was anybody. "Maybe Mr. Fraunces ain't here?" I wasn't sure whether I was hoping for it or not.

"Oh, he's here all right. He ain't always here, 'cause he sold it, so he goes out to his farm in New Jersey a lot. But he's here right now."

"I guess you probably know what he looks like." I didn't know if I had the nerve for it or not. "I guess you could point him out to me?"

"Why sure I can. Everybody in New York knows him."

"Well listen, Nosy," I said. "You go in there and tell him that Jack Arabus's son is out in the yard, and if he wants to see me he can, and if he don't want to he don't have to."

"Arabus? That's a mighty queer name."

"It ain't any queerer than Nosy."

"Nosy ain't my name," she said. "And if you don't stop calling me that I won't tell Mr. Fraunces nothing about you."

"All right, No-All right, I won't call you it no more. Now you just go on in there and tell him what I said."

"I got to fill this bucket first." So I helped her fill the bucket with oysters from the barrow. She carried it inside, and then I stood there beside the barrow, waiting, feeling mighty nervous. And suddenly I realized that there was a man standing in the door, looking at me.

His skin was dark, there wasn't no doubt of that. Just from looking at him you'd take him for a darky. But he was dressed up mighty fine, in a c.o.c.kade hat, his shirt all ruffles at the neck and sleeves, and pantaloons the color of ripe plums.

He stepped out of the doorway into the yard, stood there for a minute more, still looking at me. I didn't say anything but just looked back. '"Well," he said, "you look like Jack Arabus's boy."

"He was my daddy, sir." I'd never said sir to a black man before. It felt peculiar.

"Was?"

"He drowned, sir," I said. "He went out to sea in the Katey Lee and never came back."

"Drowned?"

"A few weeks ago, sir." I noticed that Nosy had come out of the kitchen and was standing behind Mr. Fraunces, listening.

"Your father was a hero. He deserved better than drowning. That's a cold and lonely way to die."

I thought of Birdsey being flung about by those waves. "Yes sir," I said. "I saw my friend drown on the way down. He didn't like it none. I wished he hadn't." And then all of a sudden I busted into tears. I didn't know why. I stood there crying, not able to stop, and feeling ashamed for weeping so. I put my hands over my face to cover up the tears.

"I knowed you was lying," Nosy said. "You swum off a boat is how you got wet."

"Shut up, Carrie," Mr. Fraunces said. "So, you're a runaway slave? I wonder that your father didn't buy your freedom."

I sort of gasped and got myself together. "He was saving up for it. He was going to use his soldiers' notes for it, but somehow they ain't worth enough anymore, and he had to go to sea to save up for it."

He nodded. "It was the same thing with your sister, wasn't it?"

"My sister?"

"Didn't you have a sister called w.i.l.l.y?" he asked.

"She ain't my sister. She's my aunt. I figured she might be here."

He shook his head. "She was here for a while, but she left. She came too close to being caught and had to make a run for it."