Storm Clouds Rolling In & On To Richmond (Books 1 & 2 in the Bregdan Chronicles) by Ginny Dye - HTML preview

Chapter Four

Carrie looked up from where she was sitting behind her father’s massive oak desk. Hazy sunlight poured in through the tall window, but there was no movement in the still, hot air. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Opal?”

“Yes, Miss Carrie.” Opal’s voice was firm without a trace of hesitation.

Carrie looked the woman over carefully. Not too many years older than her own nineteen, Opal appeared much older. Already the hard labor in the fields had creased her dark face with tiny lines. Her jet black hair still had a sheen to it, but her shoulders had taken on the familiar stoop of a tobacco worker. In spite of the hard work, she had also begun to develop a bulge that tightened the waistline of her light blue dress. Her eyes, normally too tired for one her age, had an unusual brightness to them.

Carrie looked back down at the pass she was carefully forging with her father’s name. “I don’t want you to send any of your wages back.”

“Why, Miss Carrie, I’ve got to do that!” Opal gasped.

“What if somebody was to find out I wasn’t sending my wages? There could be trouble for sure.”

Carrie was amused at the panic in the woman’s voice, but it caused her to reconsider. Finally she nodded. “You may be right.” She grabbed another sheet of paper and wrote quickly, stopping every few minutes to think about what she was doing. Her father had always taken care of hiring out the slaves. Hopefully she wasn’t making any grave errors in procedure or protocol that would serve as a red flag to those on the lookout for runaway slaves.

Finally she looked back up. “Here, take this with you.

It is instructions to the manager of the Federal Armory.

He is to send home fifty percent of your income. The other half will be yours.”

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Opal gasped again, her eyes widening as she reached out to take the paper with trembling hands. “I’m actually going to be making money of my own?” she whispered disbelievingly.

Carrie nodded. “Do what you want with it, but I urge you to use wisdom. I have heard of slaves using their money to buy alcohol. Alcohol brings nothing but trouble, Opal.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. I know that for sure. Ain’t I seen it in Mr. Adams?” She paused, her dark eyes growing even darker when she thought about the vengeful overseer.

“I’m going to save all my money.” At the thought of it, her eyes began to glow brighter. “I’m going to pay my way in the city, and the rest I’m going to put aside to buy my freedom when the time comes.”

Carrie shook her head in protest. “I’ve already told you. You can have your freedom any time you want it.”

Opal seemed to have thought everything through, however. “That’s all fine and good when you’re the one in charge, Miss Carrie. Might not always be that way, though. Your daddy come home, or send a new overseer, and things could change. And what if the South wins this war? Only the slaves who are way up north gonna still have their freedom. I aim to be sure I can buy mine if it looks like I got to.”

Carrie watched with admiration. “You’re a very brave woman.”

“Nonsense,” Opal snorted. “If I was a very brave woman, I would be in Canada now instead of going to work in Richmond.”

When she grew silent, Carrie knew she was thinking about her friends who had escaped with the first group of Cromwell slaves to use the Underground Railroad.

“Miss Sarah tells me everything always works for the good, though. I reckon God let me be a chicken and get left behind for a reason. I aim to find out what that reason is.”

Once again a look of determination filled Opal’s face, but there was something else, too. Carrie was tempted to find out what the woman was hiding, but she smiled and handed Opal the pass. “This will get you into the city.

Keep it with you all the time.” She heard her voice

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becoming sterner, but she did nothing to soften it. “And I mean all the time,” she added. She knew what the city could do to blacks. All Opal had ever known was the plantation.

Opal reached out to take the papers Carrie had prepared for her. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I know I ain’t never been away from Cromwell Plantation before, but I done heard the stories about Richmond. I’ll be real careful.”

“You’d better be,” Carrie said. Her smile faded as she watched another one of her father’s people walk through the door and out of her life. “Do me a favor,” she called after the disappearing form.

“Yes, ma’am,” Opal said, turning to face her again.

“If you run into my father, don’t tell him who you are.”

Laughter rang through the house as Opal turned and left.

Sam was waiting for Opal in the carriage when she emerged from the house. She took a long moment to stand on the porch and look over the beautiful fields of Cromwell Plantation. June had always been one of her favorite months of the year. The fields, bursting with the beginning of new life just weeks ago, were now covered in fertile growth, the green shoots and stalks straining to see which could reach closest to the sky. Everything was still a luxuriant green. There was no strained look to the plants like there would be in another couple of months, when they would have to spend too much of their energy sucking available moisture from the late-summer ground.

“You comin’, girl?” Sam asked as he picked up the reins. The horses, a matching pair of bays, snorted and shifted in anticipation.

Opal nodded but still didn’t move from where she was standing. She could still hear the sounds of the children

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playing in the quarters. Her mind traveled back to the carefree days before she began work as a field hand.

Unexpectedly, her eyes glazed over with tears. She was leaving all she had ever known. To go to what?

“Opal, we’s got to get goin’.” Sam’s voice was a little kinder this time. He seemed to know she was struggling with her feelings.

Opal walked slowly down the stairs. She turned for one final glimpse of the house and saw Carrie watching her from the office window. Taking courage from her warm smile, she waved and stepped into the waiting carriage. Sam gave a gentle cluck, and the carriage rolled down the drive.

Opal was glad she had said goodbye to everyone in the quarters earlier that day. She didn’t want them to see the tears rolling down her face as the carriage moved through the tall hedges of boxwoods and out of sight of the three-storied, columned house. Taking a deep breath, she sat straighter in her seat. As she faced Richmond, she felt her first twinge of excitement. Her emotions up to this point had included fear, doubt and determination. Not once had she felt excitement, simply a resignation that she was doing the right thing and a determination to see it through. She had let fear keep her from going to Canada. She wasn’t going to let fear stop her now.

“You okay?”

Opal started at the sound of Sam’s soft voice.

Immersed in her own thoughts, she had almost forgotten he was there. “I’m okay, thanks.” She was relieved to find the tremor was gone from her voice. Taking a deep breath, she settled back and let the warm wind blow across her face.

Sam nodded and kept driving, content to let silence reign between them.

Opal was glad to be left to her thoughts. It hadn’t seemed real until last night when she had been packing her meager belongings for the trip. Somewhere around midnight, it had struck her that she may never see Cromwell Plantation again. She may never see Old Sarah again. Never see the little children that called her Auntie Opal. Never enjoy another Christmas dance in the old barn. That’s when the tears had come. Protected by the

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darkness of her cabin, she had sobbed until there had been no more tears. Then she had straightened her shoulders and faced the future—whatever may come.

“What you be knowin’ ‘bout Richmond, girl?”

“What do you mean, Sam?”

“Just what I said. What you be knowin’ ‘bout Richmond?”

Opal hesitated. “Not very much, I guess. My cousin told me she has a small house down at the bottom of one of the hills. She’s going to help me get a job in one of the iron works, and I got this letter from Miss Carrie that handles my pay. I guess that’s all I need to know for now.”

In truth, she had spent a lot of time thinking about Richmond and realizing how little she knew. The reality had done nothing but fuel her fear.

Sam barked a laugh and turned to stare at her from his seat. “Come up here next to me, girl,” he ordered, pulling the horses to a stop. “We got a passel of talkin’ to do. You go into the city like that, and they’s gonna chew you up.”

Opal climbed up on the seat next to Sam.

He started right in on her, anxious to make sure she knew what she needed to know before she reached her destination. “What you be knowin’ bout the Black Code?”

“The Black Code?” Opal echoed. The sound of it did nothing to reassure her. It couldn’t be anything good.

“I thought as much,” Sam snorted. “Now you listen and you listen good, black girl. You’s got to know this stuff so’s you can stay out o’ trouble.”

Opal nodded. He had her complete attention.

“You got to make sure you ain’t out after dark. For sure not two hours after the sun done gone down.

Leastways not without a pass. The Black Code says they can whip you for dat. A pass don’t always make no difference. Some people’s got mean in their bones and just wait to find a nigger to whip.”

Opal shuddered and resolved to confine her activities to daylight hours if at all possible. She wondered what kind of danger she was walking into. She gripped the wagon seat to control her shaking hands and tried to remember her earlier courage.

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Sam continued. “Can’t no slave ride in a carriage or nothin’ without a written pass sayin’ he can. They find you doin’ that, they’ll whip you. They call it punishin’ with stripes.” His tone was scornful.

“Does it happen very much?” Opal was horrified. She had thought it would be different in the city, away from overseers who took their anger out with the whip.

“Happens plenty,” Sam said. “You gots to watch where you walk, too. If you be on the sidewalk and you see a white person comin’ at you, or you be passin’ one, you got to pass to the outside. If there ain’t be ‘nuff room to do that, you’s got to get off the sidewalk and down in the street.”

Opal listened intently. She was deathly afraid of the whip. She also didn’t want to draw undue attention to herself. It could put everything in jeopardy.

“Your cousin... Miss Carrie say in dat letter dat she gives her permission for you to be livin’ dere?”

Opal nodded. “I read it myself and had Rose read it with me, too.”

“That’s good,” Sam said. “I’d hate to see your cousin get a beatin’ ‘cause she was puttin’ you up.”

“Miss Carrie said she was going to make sure there was no trouble.”

“I’m sure Miss Carrie did the best she could, but trouble seems to follow us no matter how careful you be.”

Opal could feel her fear threatening to overwhelm her.

She stifled the impulse to tell Sam to turn the carriage around and take her back home. Nothing was worth this.

Sam, oblivious to her feelings, continued on. “You’s got to watch how you talk to a white person. All the time, you’s got to watch it. You say something wrong, or maybe just something they think is wrong...”

“And you get the whip.”

Sam nodded, his satisfied look saying he was relieved she was getting it.

Oh, she was getting it all right. She was going to go to Richmond, stay in her house, and not say a word to anyone. Not that it would do the cause any good. Silently, she willed Sam to stop talking. All he was doing was making her more fearful. “I thought the city was going to

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be different from the plantation? Why, Sam, there be blacks there who are free!”

Sam nodded. “They be free. In some ways, that be. All them laws—the people don’t care whether them niggers be free or slave. All they care ‘bout is keeping them under control.” Sam shook his head. “As much as they do to us to keep us afraid of them, they still got a whole passel of fears ‘bout us.”

“Is that why you haven’t run away, Sam?” Opal had always wondered about that. She knew Sam had free family up north. Why had he never joined them?

Sam looked at her for a long moment and then turned back toward the road. A long silence stretched between them. Finally he spoke. “My mama and daddy were born on Cromwell Plantation. They used to talk to me ‘bout leavin’. Told me ‘bout my kin up north. Used to dream

‘bout goin’ up dere. I done known ‘bout the Underground Railroad for a long time.”

When he fell silent, Opal resisted the urge to say something. She could tell he was lost in his thoughts. He would talk when he was ready. Sam had always been like that.

“I’d planned on leavin’...” Another long pause passed as the horses trotted down the road. “Then John done give me a job to do. I done been doin’ that job ever since.”

Opal was confused. “John?” She could tell by the look on Sam’s face that he wasn’t going to say any more. She cast in her head for a solution. “Do you mean Sarah’s John?”

Sam shrugged. “Don’t know none other.”

“But what job did he give you to do?”

“That don’t matter none,” Sam said. “I’ve did my job the best I could. Dat’s all that matters.” He turned his head and clucked to the horses to speed up. As the wheels turned faster in their pursuit of Richmond, Opal knew the old butler had said all he was going to say.

Many miles passed as she tried to figure out what he could have been talking about.

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Opal gazed around in awe as the carriage rattled down the road leading into Richmond. Nothing she had ever experienced had prepared her for this.

“Look up dere on the hill,” Sam said, pointing his finger.

Opal gasped as the building came into view. “Why, it’s bigger than the plantation house!” She leaned forward and allowed herself to drink in the sight of the huge columned building on the hill. “What is it?”

“That be the Capitol. It be where Marse Cromwell work now.”

Suddenly Opal was nervous. What if she ran into her owner while they were riding through town? Sam was here on business for Miss Carrie. If the marse saw her with him, it would mess everything up. Marse Cromwell hadn’t seen her enough to recognize her away from the plantation, but he would know Sam instantly.

Instinctively, she shrank down into her seat and ducked her head.

Sam laughed heartily. “Ain’t no reason to be nervous, girl. We ain’t goin’ up dere. The part of town we be headed to, I guarantee he ain’t gonna be dere.”

Sam’s words comforted her. Soon she was looking around again, trying to drink in all the sights. The hills of the city were enough to amaze her. They were beautiful in their lush, green growth. She had never known anything but the flat land along the James. Sam was silent as he navigated the crowded streets.

Her attention was caught by something else as they rounded a curve. “Is that our river, Sam?”

Sam laughed again. “That be the James, for sho.”

Opal could only shake her head as she stared. All she had ever seen were the wide-open expanses of a calm river as it moved to join the sea she had been told about.

Here, the James looked like a stranger. She watched, fascinated, as it boiled over rocks and crashed down falls.

The swirling waters churned into foamy rapids and then glided smoothly around little dots of islands. Her

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amazement increased even more as she noticed a large black object moving toward them on an expanse spanning the entire river. “Sam!” she exclaimed. “Is that thing a train?”

Sam looked at her almost in sympathy. “You sure got a heap o’ learnin’ to do.” He chuckled. “Yep, that be a train. That bridge be the only thin’ keeping that train out o’ the river. I allus been glad I didn’t have no reason to go on dat train. Don’t know as how I’d trust that wooden thing.”

Opal shuddered at the very thought of getting on that metal monster, but she felt a surge of excitement. Who was to say that someday she wouldn’t be free and headed somewhere on that train? She almost laughed at the idea but decided to hang on to it. The rest of the trip passed in a haze of discovery and astonishment.

“Here we be, Opal.”

Opal started as Sam pulled the wagon to a halt. She had been staring at the rows of simple wooden houses they had been passing. Were all the black faces peering at her really free? How had that happened? Why had she been born a slave—spent all of her life in slavery—when they got to live free?

She pushed down the resentment that tried to choke her. Miss Carrie had told her she could go free. Right this moment, she could be on her way north if she had chosen, but it had been her decision to come to Richmond. She knew what she was doing. The day may come when she could be free, but until then she would follow Old Sarah’s advice. She would bloom where she was planted.

“Opal!”

Opal gave a glad cry and jumped from the carriage to meet the woman running toward her with outstretched arms. “Fannie!”

Within seconds she felt herself wrapped in a warm embrace. For long moments she stood there, reveling in the feel of a hug from someone who was family. There were tears in her eyes when she stepped away. “Fannie,”

she whispered. She could think of nothing else to say.

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Fannie had tears in her eyes as well. “Come inside.

The rest of the family is waiting to meet you.”

Opal nodded and reached for her bag.

“I’ll take it inside for you,” Sam said. Not giving her time to reply, he gripped the small bag and strode through the dirt yard toward the front door.

Opal turned and gazed at Fannie. Her cousin was tiny—almost as tiny as Old Sarah. She hadn’t expected that. The strong letters that occasionally reached her through the slave grapevine had made her envision a much bigger, imposing woman. Her short ebony hair was already taking on a salt and pepper effect, but Opal saw her strength. The eyes gazing at her with so much warmth were eyes that had seen much suffering and come through victorious. They were Sarah’s eyes. Opal sighed, knowing she had come to a good place.

“Look the way you expected me to look?”

Opal shook her head and laughed. “You look ten times better.” Feeling a burst of confidence and excitement, she reached out and tucked her arm through her cousin’s.

“Let’s go meet the family.”

Fannie smiled and turned to lead the way. Opal gazed at the house. Compared to some of the houses they had passed on the way here, Fannie’s home was small and run-down. But compared to the tiny cabin in the quarters that had been her home all her life, Fannie’s home was like a mansion. Fitting snugly against the surrounding two structures, the wood was gray and weathered, rising up two stories. The small porch with three sagging steps leading up to it looked like it had seen much better days.

The yard was small and barren of any growth. Opal had just a moment to absorb her new surroundings before she stepped through the doorway.

Instantly she felt at home. Warmth and love seemed to be a living thing, reaching out to embrace her. She saw Sam smiling as Fannie’s husband and their four children rushed forward to envelop her in big hugs. All was wild confusion and talk, until they heard Fannie banging a big spoon against a large cast iron skillet.

“I didn’t stand in a hot kitchen cookin’ all day so’s that y’all could talk away the supper hour. Y’alls can talk whilst you eat.”

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In seconds, all were seated around the huge plank table, laughing as Fannie passed big platters of cornbread, cabbage and beans. There was even fresh squash and tomatoes.

Opal stared at the feast set before her. “Do y’all eat like this all the time?” Visions of wanting fled from her mind.

Fannie laughed. “As long as the garden produces, we do.” She jumped up from the table to walk over and open the door leading outside.

Opal smiled in delight. The front yard may be barren dirt, but the back yard resembled the Garden of Eden.

Every square inch was taken up with growing things.

Large clumps of squash plants sported bright yellow blossoms. Green beans climbed stakes Eddie, Fannie’s husband, had pushed into the ground to support them.

Tomato plants vied for the center of attention. Fannie let the door swoosh shut before she could identify more.

After that, silence reigned as the food was consumed.

In the distance, Opal could hear children yelling and the steady chug of a train climbing the steep tracks to the main station on Broad Street. Dogs were barking and roosters were crowing. Opal relaxed as the familiar sounds of the country mingled with the new sounds of the city.

Finally, she set her fork down and looked around the table. Eddie, seated next to Sam, was almost as tall as Moses, just not nearly as big. He looked like he hardly ate. The four kids were watching her closely. Carl, the youngest at six, eyed her with the delight of finding a new toy. Amber, the next oldest at nine, was merely watching her carefully—not unfriendly, but careful. Her large brown eyes promised friendship if she felt it was due.

Sadie, budding into womanhood at thirteen, was going to be a real beauty. It was Susie who held her attention, though. At sixteen, she gave off a confidence that was beyond her years. Holding herself straight and tall, she ate slowly, all the time watching their newest house member. Aware that Opal was watching her, she smiled, a warm smile that said she was her mother’s child. Opal knew they would be friends.

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Fannie was the first to break the silence. “Did you have a good trip here?”

Opal nodded. “Sam was trying to train me how to stay out of trouble in Richmond.” She laughed as she told them of Sam’s warnings. Now that she was here, she was sure Sam had been exaggerating. The warmth of their welcome had erased her fears.

Eddie was the first to respond. “Don’t be thinking Sam was joking, Opal,” he said somberly. “Things in Richmond used to be pretty easy. There’s been a lot of changin’, though. The comin’ of war done made a lot of people nervous. They especially nervous ‘bout us blacks. When people get nervous, they try to get things back under control. That can mean some rough times for us.”

“Some people were real mean to my daddy!” Amber burst out.

Opal’s heart pounded as she waited for Eddie to explain. The fear that had disappeared during their meal had come back even stronger. Eddie shrugged and kept his voice light. “Seems I didn’t get off the sidewalk fast enough when some white folks were coming down it. They took offense.”

That’s all he said, but the worried look that sprang into Fannie’s eyes, and the grim tightening of Eddie’s mouth, spoke more than his words did.

Fannie changed the subject. “The children been doin’

nothing but talking ‘bout your coming. They’ve made me tell the story over and over about why we’ve never met.

Sadie spoke up then. “I think it was real mean of y’alls old owner to sell family away from each other.”

Opal shrugged. “It happens.” She had been only two when she and her mama had been bought by Thomas Cromwell. Her mama and Fannie’s mama had been sisters. When the plantation they had grown up on was sold, all the slaves went to the auction block. The sisters had been separated but knew where the other was going.

In less than six months, Opal’s mom had taken sick and died in an outbreak of scarlet fever. Other women at Cromwell had raised the little girl. When she had gotten older, they gave her the stack of letters that had arrived sporadically over the years since her mama had died.

Rose read them to her. Opal cried the whole time. It had

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been so wonderful to know that somewhere she had real family.

Shaking her thoughts back, she said, “It’s now that counts. Now we can be together as family.” It seemed too good to be true.

Fannie’s mama had been hired out to someone in the city. While she was working, she had met and fallen in love with a freed slave who was a bricklayer. Determined they would be together, he had saved all his money until he could buy the freedom of his love and her little girl.

Fannie had been only five when she had come to live in Richmond as a free black.

The next hour passed quickly as stories flowed around the table. So little living can be crammed into letters.

Fannie and her family knew virtually nothing about Opal’s life. She had learned to read and write only months ago and had only been able to get two short letters to them.

Finally, Eddie settled back in his chair and fixed his kindly gaze on his children. “Why don’t you young’uns go outside and play for a while?”

A chorus of protests rose, but one look from Eddie ended it. In just minutes, there were only adults sitting around the table—adults, and Susie. She hadn’t moved.

Obviously she knew she was no longer considered a young’un.

“We’re glad you’re here, Opal,” Fannie said softly.

Opal knew what she meant this time. “I want to help in any way I can.”

Eddie spoke softly as well. “We probably shouldn’t be talkin’ now, but I wanted Sam to be here.”

Sam? Opal looked around in confusion. She thought they had just met Sam. Why would Eddie want him to be there?

Sam chuckled. “There’s a lot you don’t be knowin’

‘bout me, girl. I been knowin’ your family here for a long time.”

When Opal stared at him blankly, he continued. “I made my decision to stay on the plantation and do the job I had to do. That didn’t mean I quit helping my people.

It didn’t mean I quit dreamin’.”

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