Running South

For a long time that night, I lay awake in my bed, staring up at the thick shadows that pooled in the empty ceiling of the cabin. I knew I should be asleep. The morning always came far too early, and I knew what might happen if I wasn’t working fast enough. Even so, I couldn’t seem to close my eyes. There was an odd feeling in the air that wouldn’t quite allow me to relax. It rolled over me in my bunk, setting my fingers and toes to twitching. I had no idea why, but I felt almost nervous, like something was different or something was about to change. I had only a few minutes to dwell on this strange thought before I heard a faint creaking on the old wooden floor behind me. Intrigued, I propped myself up on one elbow and searched the darkened room for the source of the noise. On the floor of the cabin, my father crouched on one knee, his face tensed with concentration as he reached down to grasp one of the weathered wooden floorboards. Despite his efforts to make it subtle, the board gave a loud, high-pitched squeak as the nails were torn, pulled up from the frame. Samuel and Felicia stirred in their beds, but remained silent. Perhaps, like me, they were simply observing, hoping to learn what was going on. I watched quietly as Pa set the board to the side and leaned over the rectangular hole he had just created. Before I could wonder what he was doing, he reached his hand into the hole and withdrew something from the blackness. Even in the dim light of the cabin, I could tell that it was an old tin box, decorated with a picture of something I couldn’t make out. Hurriedly, Pa opened the box with a tiny popping sound and pulled out what appeared to be a piece of folded paper. He stared at it for a few seconds, opening it and scanning the inside before tucking it in the pocket of his wool trousers. As soon as he had stashed the paper, he moved to Felicia’s bed, shaking her awake. “Come on, now!” he said in an urgent whisper. “Everybody up! Wake up!” He nudged Samuel on the shoulder. The tone of his voice was enough to put me on edge as I sat up in bed. “You, too!” he said to me. “Everybody get dressed! We don’t have much time!” “Time for what? What is it?” Samuel asked, his voice still thick and groggy. Felicia was the first to vacate her bed. “What’s going on?” she asked sternly. As I slipped my feet down onto the rough wooden floor, I heard a small whimper coming from the front of the cabin. While Pa gathered clothes and belongings for Samuel and Felicia, I saw Ma pacing in a short line by the door. She was largely obscured by shadows, but I could see that she had her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection, and one hand clamped over her mouth to stifle the sobs that were shaking her body. Her sallow cheeks were wet with tears. Something was wrong. Upon seeing me staring at her in confusion, she removed the hand from her mouth and snapped her fingers. “You listen to your father!” she urged, using the same hushed tone of voice. “Get yourselves dressed and don’t argue!” She shuffled forward, seizing the first cotton shirt that she could find and slipped it over my head. “Quickly. Now,” she muttered. In my state of bewilderment, I couldn’t find any words to voice my distress. Just what was happening? I felt something was definitely wrong. I was feeling an intense worry tumbling around the pit of my stomach, but I could only obey my parents. I trusted them. Rather than ask questions that would anger Pa, I simply hitched up my trousers and waited for the next set of instructions. Felicia and Samuel had also realized that arguing was going to get them nowhere. In a few seconds, they were both fully dressed and Pa was ushering all of us toward the front where Ma stood peeking through the cracked door. “Anything?” Pa asked. Ma shook her head. “Nothing.” Slowly, Pa eased the door open and stepped out into the muggy night air. He whipped his head from side to side, searching the rows of cabins for something. After a moment, he turned around and gave us all a nod. “Come on!” Ma hissed, dragging us out the door. She took Pa’s hand and grasped Felicia’s with the other. Felicia seized a hold of Samuel, who clutched onto my hand as he went, turning us into a linked chain as we glided through the quarter houses. The three of us kept deathly silent, even going so far as to jog on our tiptoes to keep from making loud footfalls. We knew we were not supposed to be out at night. We were warned daily of the punishment we would face if we were out past curfew. If we were caught, we’d all be caned fiercely. The fear of that torment was enough to keep us quiet. Part of me wanted to turn and run back to the cabin, to sprint back to safety, just to ensure that I wouldn’t get into trouble. Instead, however, I kept going, my eyes focused on Pa’s heels as he pulled all of us into the field. I had never been in the field after dark. It felt so different in the moonlight, much less welcoming. I had no choice but to swallow my discomfort and continue on. Grasshoppers leapt out of our path in every direction, some of them bouncing off of us as we went. The night insects were loud and repetitive, helping to cover the sounds of our movement. Ma and Pa ran with their heads lowered and their shoulders hunched. The cotton reached up to my neck, but to them, it was only waist-high. They were trying not to be seen. As we reached the end of the massive field, it occurred to me that we were running away. We were escaping the plantation.