47

Flore and Albert would walk hand in hand and every once in a while they'd stop and Flore would kiss Albert's cheek. Once they sat on a log and hugged for such a long time that I got bored and asked them when we were going to leave.

"How did you know about Britisher Bill's cabin?" I asked John.

"I didn't," he said, "the memory is in your mind." Britisher Bill appeared in my mind then. He was older than Mud Albert by far and he spoke in an accent that people said was English. The old master had gone to Jamaica long ago and purchased Bill for his personal manservant. He became so fond of the slave that he brought him back to the Corinthian.

"But," I said, shaking the image of Bill from my mind, "if you too weak t'work your magic then how did we get here?"

"The power is in your mind, Forty-seven. Your mind brought us here. I merely showed you the way."

"So can my mind bring us water an' food?" I asked. " 'Cause you know I sho am hungry an' thirsty too."

John leaned back in his rocker and sighed.

"You could imagine eating chicken," he said, and somewhere I heard the cackle of a hen, "but when we go back to our chains you will be all the more hungry."

"So we ain't got aloose from the Tomb?" I asked. "We just daydreamin'?"

"Don't you like it better here than in that hot cell?" I looked around at the peaceful yard and the forest beyond and thought, Yes, this is better than chains.

"Back there," John said. "I'm almost dead. I wouldn't be able to give you my last words, my council."

"You not go

"I should have listened to you, Forty-seven," he said. "I am well over three thousand years old and so I thought a boy of fourteen couldn't tell me anything. I was so sure that I could master Tobias just as he had mastered you. My pride was my downfall and now I have put the entire universe in jeopardy."

"You cain't be worried 'bout no universe when we in trouble right now in the Tomb," I scolded.

"Right again, Forty-seven. I can feel my mind fading. I must tell you what you need to know before I pass on to the Upper Level. Listen closely.

"I had intended to give you guidance and power with which you could fight against Wall and keep him from his mad plan. Now it's too late for that. I will die in Tobias's chains but you may yet survive. If you do I want you to find my yellow bag and study its contents. Certain items therein will speak to you "

"Things go

"You will see something," John said patiently, nodding slightly as if he were tired and soon to fall asleep. "And after a while you will have a nagging feeling at the back of your mind. And soon you will know how to go about using that thing."

I noticed that the sun was setting. This was odd because when we first came to Britisher Bill's cabin, only a few minutes before, it was high noon.

"Time is ru

"You not go

I helped John out of the rocking chair and laid him out on the ground.

He smiled at me and said, "So you forgive me for delivering you into Tobias's hands?"

"Ain't nuthin' to forgive," I said. "It was me wanted t'come back. It's my fault we here."

Hearing this John smiled and then fell into a deep sleep. As he closed his eyes the sun set on Britisher Bill's cabin. In the darkness the pine forest and the sky faded, becoming the close walls of our cell. The scent of pine was replaced by the odor of human suffering. As the darkness descended I realized that our cell might be an actual tomb for both of us.

When the night came the heat didn't let up and even the little light that had filtered in with the sun was gone. I came awake, lamenting my sad fate. There I was chained by my ankles with no water or food, dying. And what had I done wrong? I had helped to save the master's daughter. I had come back home even though it meant a life of slavery.

"Numbah Twelve?" came a voice from outside of our

hotbox.

"Eighty-four?" I answered.

"Is Joh

"Yeah but he out. It's 'cause'a no watah I think."

"I brought you an' him some watah an' two apples," she said. "Mud Albert sneaked out an' unchained me an' give me this here from Flore."

And with that the food slot opened. I could feel the cool breeze of night coming in through there. She handed through a small water skin and two apples. Because my hands were free I was able to reach out and take her gifts.

"Tell him that I be prayin' for you. I sure will."

The girl that John called Tweenie closed the food slot and I held the jug to his lips. At the first taste of the water on his tongue he made a sound in his throat and roused. I held the cup to his lips until he drank every drop.

When he realized that he'd finished the water he asked, "Did you drink already?"

"Yeah," I lied. I figured that he needed the water more than I did and, anyway, the fruit that Eighty-four gave us had water in it too.

We each ate an apple. I devoured mine, core and all.

This is another moment that I have to stop and explain the crazy contradiction of the pain of slavery. Those apples certainly weren't the best that I've ever eaten. I have traveled, in my many years, near and far across America and beyond. I have eaten the most delicious fruits that our rich soil has to offer. But that mealy little apple that Eighty-four fed us in our prison was the sweetest, most delicious thing that I've ever tasted. No great meal of succulent pork and sweet potatoes could ever be so satisfying. That's because we were starving. We were near death. And those small spotted fruit contained the taste of salvation.

In the morning the door to our cell was opened and we were dragged out into the light of day. All around the yard stood the field slaves, in chains. The house slaves were also there Fred Chocolate, Big Mama Flore, Nola, and the rest of the servants. Sitting on fences and wagons all around were Mr. Stewart and a dozen or so white riflemen. Dead center of the yard was a huge wagon wheel leaned up against a hay wagon.

When I saw that big wheel my heart went cold.

John and I were thrown to the ground and Master Turner came out wearing a black suit like Andrew Pike had worn the day he interrupted Ned's funeral.

"We are here today," Tobias said, "to punish the disrespect, thievery, and mutiny of these two niggers, Number Twelve and Number Forty-seven. They are bein' punished for talkin' back, for stealin' a handkerchief, and for ru

"I have to punish these boys because it's the responsibility of the white man to keep the black from forgettin' his place. But I am not unfeelin'. I could have both of you boys whipped until you were dead. But I know that po' Forty-seven was led astray by this new nigger here. So the punishment for Number Twelve is twenty-four lashes and a visit to Mr. Stewart's shack…"

"No!" Eighty-four shouted. I saw her try to run out into the yard but her chains and the women around her held

her back.

"And as for Forty-seven, he is to receive just twelve

lashes "

Mama Flore ran out into the yard yelling words that made no sense to me. She was tearing at her breast and ru