Mosana - Part XXVII

EPISODE 27

It took me a few moments to realise that Jerome had shot Madam Russell, and that Madam Russell had shot Judy. Actually, Madam Russell had shot at me, and Judy had thrown herself in between.

She saved me.

Of course Madam Russell had had another gun. We should have locked her in the room before we left. That was what had been bothering me as we ran. Judy had seen her coming and had pushed me out of the way, taking a bullet for me.

It irked me to no end that I couldn’t cry. I was in shock as I took in the horror around me, vaguely hearing Amy’s screams as she tried to stop her mother’s bleeding and Jerome’s shouts as he tried to make me snap out of it.

But I couldn’t move. This was worse than losing Flint. If there was anyone who deserved to be free; who deserved to live, it was Judy. But because of me, she was dead. The bullet had hit her square in the chest, and she had died even as she hit the ground.

My brain finally regained control of my limbs and I moved to grasp Judy’s body. I shook her a bit, a weak attempt to revive her. But she was gone. I looked to where Amy was still shrieking, and saw that Madam Russell was still alive, her breath coming in short gasps. Jerome’s bullet had hit her somewhere in the shoulder.

So the beast wasn’t dead.

At once, anger replaced my inability to cry. I started to get up, my mind on finishing what Jerome had started. She was going to pay for this. Jerome must have noticed my countenance, because he stopped me.

‘No.’

No?

I tried to remove my hand from his grasp, but his grip was firm.

‘No,’ he said again. ‘We need to get out of here.’ He started to carry Judy’s body by himself and added, ‘Before Amy realises she can still shoot us.’

But Amy was too engrossed with her mother to see that she could have her revenge on us. I tried to help Jerome with Judy’s limp body, but he already had it under control. He carried her, and we walked out the door.

Finally.

He picked up the pace even with the weight in his hands all the way to the back (slave) door, which I opened for him.

There was no carriage outside.

If there was any doubt that Gabe was involved in this, it was gone now. He hadn’t brought the carriage out front as we had planned. The back gate was wide open, showing he had escaped without us.

I was angry all over again. Gabe was the reason Judy was dead. If the bastard had just done what I said, instead of panicking and ratting us out, we would all be on our jolly way out of there.

I started to run to the carriage house, in an effort to pull out some carriages to be hooked to the horses, but Jerome stopped me.

‘No. Carts. We should use carts instead.’

‘Carts? How many would that take?’

Instead of answering that question, he said, ‘How do you think a train of carriages moving through the country on a quiet Sunday afternoon would look? We wouldn’t get far.’

I thought about it as I stood there, halfway to the carriage house. He was right. Carts would make it look like we were on our way to be sold. And with how harsh we’d been treated, it wouldn’t be hard to look the part. I changed course and ran to the barn where the carts were kept, usually to haul in crops from the field to the barn and stores. Jerome followed me and laid Judy’s body on a stack of hay in the corner. Then he went to the stables to free a couple of horses. Before he got out the door, something clicked in my head and I stopped him.

‘Why?’

He turned to face me, and I knew he understood what I was talking about. I wanted to know why he had helped us. He was quiet for a few seconds though, and I guessed he was thinking of how best to answer me.

Finally, he said, ‘I care about Tricia.’

It took half a second for the meaning of what he had just said to sink in. When it did, my eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

‘Really?! You guys are a thing?’’ I asked, my voice somewhat in between a whisper and a shriek.

The corner of his lips lifted a bit. ‘Yeah.’ Then he turned around, on his way to the stables.

As I readied the carts, I mused over what I’d just heard.

Tricia? “Jesus-loves-you-so-you-gotta-live-right” Tricia? It was incredible. So she had a boyfriend… a white boyfriend for that matter. My smile grew wide. Oh she was going to get it from me.

While I had thought Tricia only loved Jesus, she had been sneaking around with the coachman. Well, well, well… what wouldn’t a black girl see?

She must have told him about our plans; as much as she had known anyway. So when Jerome noticed our dilemma back in Madam Russell’s quarters, he had suspected trouble and had helped.

Because he knew that if I went down, so would everyone who had helped me in one way or another.

Including his girlfriend, Tricia.

Oh well. One thing was clear now. Love always got people into trouble in the Russell Manor. But it was going to get us out now.

I realised that Jerome being a part of us was a great blessing. People wouldn’t think twice if they saw a white man driving a cart full of 24 slaves. We would have made it across the border before people had time to look.

Before long, all the slaves had gathered - all 24 of us. Together, we got the horses ready and hitched them to the carts. Tricia burst into tears the moment she saw Judy’s body. We decided we wouldn’t bury her in the Manor; she deserved better than that. We would carry her body along, no matter how cumbersome it would be, and bury her in the closest chapel cemetery we could find. Tricia helped to wrap her up, but she let the boys carry and lay her in one of the carts.

Finally, we all clambered up into the four carts, pulled by four horses. Although the other three horses had black slaves riding them, Jerome said they could act like they were free men. He appointed Sole, Manny and Castor to ride the horses and gave them some of his clothes so they could at least look like genuine free men. And if anyone suspected they were slaves, or if any officer asked for their papers, well…

We decided we would cross that bridge when we got to it.

We didn’t take a lot of our belongings. In fact, some of us didn’t take anything at all. Like me. I left with the clothes on my back and the memories of Flint. Tricia took her bag of herbs and the photo of her father. We thought it best to travel light so we could actually look like we were on our way to being sold. It made no sense for slaves on their way to the auction ground to go with luggage like tourists. It would set off an alarm.

Jerome though, packed his bags, some supplies and his gun. He wasn’t taking chances.

We rode through the gates finally, every one of us silent. We were like the Israelites leaving Egypt. I like to think some of them couldn’t believe it. But where I expected joy and excitement at finally escaping, I found only sobriety. I couldn’t even be happy enough. And I knew why.

We’d lost somebody in this fight for freedom, someone who deserved it as much as each of us. Judy was leaving the Manor, but not as she expected she would. I replayed the whole event again and again in my head, trying to see where I could have come in, how I could have stopped it.

I looked over at the cart where Judy’s body was laid, the cart with less number of people to allow for Judy’s body. Gertrude, Cora, and Tina sat hunched, their heads bowed, as if paying their last respects to the body at their feet. This wasn’t the escape I was hoping for. But at least I had done it. We had done it.

We were out.

_________________________________

Hey you!

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! 

Somebody say "FINALLY!"

They are out! They are out! Give Jesus a big hand!

We need to do thanksgiving or something. Any ideas on how we should celebrate this? How about letting me know in the comment section? Come on, it's only a few steps. I'd like to know who's reading, you know...

Is this the final episode? I don't know. Stick around to find out. But I don't think Mosana's done yet!

Till next Sunday,

xoxo,

Ava.