Leapholes

Chapter 26

"I was hungry," Jarvis told Ryan. "That's all there is to it."

They were riding in the back of a horse-drawn wagon. Abigail was at the reins. A struggling old mare with a sagging backbone was pulling them down a dark, rutted road.

Ryan had done his best to avoid making a scene at the street party outside the tavern. He took Jarvis by the arm and quietly pulled him away. Even so, Jarvis did manage to stuff three more barbecued ribs and a grilled chicken leg into his pockets on the way out. Ryan waited until they were well out of town before speaking his mind. First, he told Jarvis what the abolitionist had said about Hezekiah. Then he laid into him about crossing over to the slave owners' side of the street.

"Do you realize that you were partying with the same people who took Hezekiah into slavery?" said Ryan.

"I wasn't partying with anyone," he said, still chewing a mouthful of chicken. "I was just eating their food."

"Did you see me eating their food? Did you see Abigail?"

"Lay off, will you, Ryan? I haven't eaten anything but those crab apples since we got here. These folks were giving away food. I smelled barbecue, and I couldn't resist. What's the big deal?"

"We're with the abolitionists now. We can't go to parties and rub elbows with the slave owners."

"Nice fancy word there, smarty pants. I bet you don't even know what an abolitionist is."

"I do so."

Abigail spoke up. "An abolitionist is someone who fights to abolish slavery. Some of us speak out in public. Some of us work behind the scenes. A few of us will even risk our lives to help slaves like your friend Hezekiah find freedom. Now, if you two don't quit arguing and help me hatch a plan, your friend Hezekiah is gonna be stuck in slavery for good. You understand?"

"Yes ma'am," they said in unison.

The moon rose in the night sky as the wagon bounced farther down the dirt road. They were out of the city and well into the countryside. It was getting chilly, and Ryan wrapped himself in a coarse blanket. The old wagon creaked. A hoot owl called to them from the twisted limbs of an old oak tree. The ride to Abigail's house was taking longer than Ryan had expected. People in the nineteenth century obviously had a different notion of what "Just down yonder" meant.

The wagon stopped. Ryan looked up, but Abigail shushed him.

"Hold still," she whispered.

A shot rang out. Ryan ducked down and said, "What was that!"

Abigail chuckled as she laid down her shotgun and climbed out of the wagon. "Dinner."

They ate rabbit stew that night at Abigail's cottage. She skinned and dressed the animal herself. She added some onions and roots, then boiled it all in an iron pot that hung in the fireplace. Ryan thought her stew was delicious. Over dinner, he managed to keep the conversation mostly about Abigail and her work as an abolitionist. Inevitably, she started down her own line of questioning. Where were they from? How did they get to St. Louis? His responses were vague, but she didn't seem to care. She was an abolitionist, and all that really mattered to her was getting Hezekiah out of slavery.

That was all Ryan cared about, too.

"We'll leave at sunrise," said Abigail.

"Where to?" asked Ryan.

"There's a plantation south of here, near Jefferson Barracks. The slave owner who took your friend Hezekiah lives there."

"I guess we better get some shut eye then," said Jarvis.

"You two can sleep in the loft," she said.

They thanked her. Ryan started to help clear the dinner plates, but she stopped him.

"Never mind that," said Abigail. "You two look exhausted."

Jarvis yawned into his fist. "We are. Goodnight, ma'am." He went up the ladder and climbed into the loft.

"You too, boy. Git."

Ryan started toward the ladder, then stopped with one foot on the bottom wrung. "Abigail, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"This plantation we're going to. Where my friend Hezekiah is. Have you ever heard anyone say it was the kind of place where the brood follows the dam?"

"Hmmm, no. Can't say that I have. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. Good night."

"Okay, 'night."

Ryan climbed up to the loft. Jarvis was already snoring. Ryan settled in beside him and stole back half of the big, warm quilt that Jarvis was hogging. Ryan was dead tired, but his mind was too busy to let him sleep. Where the brood follows the dam.

This was sizing up to be one tough riddle. And he might have to solve it with no help from anyone.