Heartfire

Alvin knelt again by Calvin, shook him gently, woke him. Calvin opened his eyes and saw Alvin. He laughed in delight. “You,” he said. “You came and saved me.”

Chapter 15 – Fathers and Mothers

Mike Fink and Jean-Jacques Audubon waited a discreet distance away as Hezekiah Study led Verily and Purity through the graveyard. The graves were located in a curious alcove in the wall of the cemetery. Purity knelt at her parents' graves and wept for them. Verily knelt beside her, and after a while she reached for Hezekiah and drew him down with her as well. “You're all I have left of them,” she said to Hezekiah. “Since I have no memories of my own, I have to rely on yours. Come with us.”

“I'll travel with you as far as Philadelphia,” said Hezekiah. “Beyond that I can't promise.”

“Once Alvin starts talking about the Crystal City, you'll catch the vision of it,” said Verily. “I promise.”

Hezekiah smiled ruefully. “Will there be a need for an old Puritan minister?”

“No doubt of it,” said Verily. “But a scholar like you– I think we'll have to tear you away from the things you can learn there in order to get a sermon out of you.”

“My heart isn't much in sermonizing anyway,” said Hezekiah. “I'm tired of the sound of my own mouth.”

“Then don't listen,” said Purity. “Why should we miss out on your sermons just because you don't want to hear them?”

They lingered near the graves for some time. Only when they were leaving did it occur to Verily how odd it was to have such an alcove enclosing just those two graves. Otherwise the graveyard walls marked out a simple rectangle.

Hezekiah heard the question and nodded. “Well, you see, when they were buried, the witcher insisted the graves had to be outside the churchyard. Can't have witches in hallowed ground. Then the witchers left, and all the neighbors who knew them and loved them, they tore down the wall at that place, and laid out a new course, and now they're inside the wall of the churchyard after all.”

They stood on the south bank of the Potomac, waiting for the ferry to return to their shore to carry them across into the United States– specifically New Sweden, which despite its name was now almost as thoroughly English-speaking as Pe

“Too bad Audubon ain't here to tell us what bird that is,” said Alvin.

Arthur Stuart took Margaret by the hand. “You were there,” he said. “You know. What kind of bird was it that carried me?”

Margaret looked at him in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“I remember flying,” said Arthur. “Hour after hour, all the way north. What kind of bird was that?”

“It wasn't a bird,” she said. “It was your mother. She knew some of the witchy lore that Gullah Joe uses. She made wings and she flew, carrying you the whole way.”

“But I saw a bird,” said Arthur.

“You were a newborn,” said Margaret. “How could you possibly remember?”

“Wings, so wide,” said Arthur. “It was so beautiful to fly. I still dream about it all the time.”

“Your mother wasn't a bird, Arthur Stuart,” said Margaret.

“Yes she was,” said Arthur. “A bird in the air, and then a woman when she came to earth.”

Alvin remembered now how a question had nagged at Arthur the whole time he was with Audubon, a question that he could never quite frame in a way to get the answer he needed. Now Alvin had the answer for him. “She is waiting for you, Arthur Stuart,” said Alvin. “With wings or without, your mother bird is still alive, waiting for you when the time comes.”

Arthur Stuart nodded. “I think you're right,” he said. “I feel her sometimes in the sky, so high I can't see her, but she's looking down and she sees me.” He looked to Alvin and Margaret for reassurance. “That's not silly, is it?”

“They'd have to have a thousand angels watching her every minute in heaven,” said Margaret, “to keep your mama from watching over you.”

Arthur Stuart nodded. “When I see her,” he said, “that's when I'll find out my true name.”

“All names are true on that day,” said Alvin. “When we see each other for what we really are.”

Margaret said nothing. She took no comfort in thinking of a day of resurrection far in the distant future, for she had never seen that day in any heartfire. All her visions ended, sooner or later, in death. That's what was real to her.

Real and yet not terribly important. She felt her own swelling abdomen, where the baby's tiny heartfire was growing. As long as she had enough time to see this through, to bring this girl into the world and raise her to adulthood, she'd have no complaint when death came for her.

The ferry pulled in and the people from the New Sweden side disembarked noisily. Alvin, Margaret, and Arthur walked back to where Fishy, Gullah Joe, and Denmark and his wife waited for them. Fast as they were traveling, news had already reached them of mass hangings of rebel slaves in Camelot. They feared the worst– John Calhoun's proposal to hang one in every three. But it turned out to be only twenty.

Only twenty.

In addition, a warrant had been issued for a scoundrel named Denmark Vesey, an illegally freed half-Black who had plotted the whole thing, meeting every slave ship that came to port. Well, that would never happen again. Blacktown was cleaned out and the laws concerning the movements of slaves without their masters were going to be tightened considerably. The days of soft treatment were over for the slaves of the Crown Colonies. They'd learn who was boss.

Once the stories crossed the Potomac, however, they changed. The facts were the same, but now the story was told with growing anger. Even Blacks want to be free, that's what the Northerners said. Whatever they might have pla

Overhearing such conversation at a roadside i

All along the road, Alvin worked steadily at trying to heal the damage to Denmark's wife. Margaret assured him that all her memories were still in her heartfire, somewhere, hidden from Margaret because they were hidden from the woman herself. It was slow, meticulous work, healing only a few nerves at a time, a few tiny regions of the brain. But they could all see the improvement in her. She limped less and less. Her hands became more deft. Her speech became clearer. She remembered more and more.

There came one morning when she woke up screaming from a terrible dream. Fishy was with her, but Denmark soon came at a run. When he entered the room, his wife looked up at him and said, “I dream you try a-kill me!”

Weeping, Denmark confessed his terrible sin to her, and begged forgiveness. “I not that man no more,” he said.

That healing, too, would be long and slow.

The journey that Alvin had made in one night, ru