A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton - Michael R. Phillips [79]
As fast as she dared Josepha opened the door. The cool dank air of the cellar met her face. Closing the door behind her, she inched down the narrow stairway into the darkness, each step groaning beneath her weight. When she reached the earthen floor, she took a match from her pocket, struck it on a stone, and held it in front of her, looking for a candle. But before she could find one, two figures suddenly approached through the thin light at the far end from the outside door by which they had entered.
“Tarnashun!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper. “Where’d you two come from!—Emma, you guttersnipe, whatchu doin’ here? Da master’s like ter kill you effen he finds you! He been lookin’ high en’ low fer you, an da mistress, she be as mad as a cornered coon on account er you.”
“Please, Josepha,” said Katie, “we came back to find out what they’ve done with Mayme. Where is she?”
Josepha looked away. But Katie had seen the fear in her eyes at the question.
“Where is she, Josepha?” she repeated.
“Dey had her in da icehouse all day yesterday,” she said. “But den dis mo’nin’ I hear’d dem sayin’ dat da whuppin’s wasn’t doin’ no good an’ dat dere wuz only one way ter make a stubborn nigger loosen up his tongue.”
“And what was that, Josepha?”
Again Josepha looked away.
“Josepha,” said Katie, reaching out and forcing the large black woman’s face back in front of her, “I want you to tell me what they meant.”
“I’m feared, Miz Kathleen,” she said as tears filled her eyes, “I’m mighty feared dey wuz fixin’ ter take her out to da big oak.”
Emma gasped. “Da big oak!” she whispered.
Katie glanced around and saw Emma’s eyes as big as plates and filled with terror.
“What is it?” said Katie.
“Come wiff me, Miz Katie. We gotter git outer here!”
“If Mayme’s at something called the big oak, then that’s where we’re going too. Do you know where it is, Emma?”
“Yes’m, but—”
“Emma!” said Katie. “Remember—we came here to help Mayme.”
“If dey’ve taken her to the big oak, chil’,” said Josepha, breaking into tears, “dere ain’t nuthin’ you can do fer poor Mayme now.”
Suddenly light flooded the stairway up to the house behind where Josepha stood.
“Josepha, what’s taking you so long? Get back up here!”
Katie and Emma crouched down out of sight, hoping no sound of feet on the stairs would follow the mistress’s voice.
“Yes’m,” said Josepha. She wiped quickly at her eyes, then turned and trudged back up the stairs, moving as slowly as she could, it seemed, to give the two girls time to make their escape.
Katie and Emma crept out of the cellar and dashed back across the yard. They reached the safety of the chicken house and then continued straight on past it, over the wooden fence, and to the safety of the trees. There stood Jeremiah watching for them, crouching low behind a tree, holding one of the rifles.
“What are you doing with that!” exclaimed Katie softly as she ran past him.
“Listenin’ t’ you talk about how dangerous dese people is, I figured I’d best be ready ter shoot if dey was comin’ after you an’ tryin’ ter hurt da two er you.”
“Nobody saw us … come on!”
Two minutes later they were back in their saddles, and Emma was leading the way as best she could remember to the fateful tree.
THE BIG OAK
41
IT TOOK THEM TEN OR TWELVE MINUTES TO reach the place.
The big oak stood in a clearing in the middle of a large field of pastureland. The nearest shelter where they could stay out of sight was two hundred or more feet away.
“Dere it is—dat’s da big oak!” whispered Emma.
Katie could feel the fear in her voice.
“An’ see—dere’s six or eight men on horses all dere together! Oh, Miz Katie, I’m mighty feared ’bout what dey’s doin’, an’ I’m feared we be too late!”
They dismounted as carefully as they could, tied their horses, and crept to the edge of the trees.
“No—look, there’s Mayme in the middle of them,” said Katie. “We’re not too late. She’s on one of the horses and—”
Suddenly Katie gasped in horror.
“She’s blindfolded … and they’ve got a rope around her