Tall Tail

Tuesday, September 21, 1784

“There.” Charles sprinkled sand on the parchment. He tilted the skin to the side, and the sand fell into a small glass container.

Upon hearing the sand, Piglet’s ears pricked up.

Catherine took the proffered document. “Remarkable.”

Smiling, Charles added, “Forging discharge papers helped my comrades, the other prisoners of war, live unmolested once they escaped. Truth is, I don’t think the guards or even your Congress wanted to find them. Still.”

John leaned down to study Charles’s writing on the document, beautiful flourishes. A hand like that took years to develop. “When you wrote letters to my mother, she thought they were pretty as paintings.”

Rachel looked out the window; Charles’s workroom glowed with light from the setting sun. “The autumn equinox,” she announced before turning to the others. “Can Moses read at all?”

“No,” Catherine answered. “But he’ll know a manumission paper when he sees one. He will have to keep this on him at all times until he’s settled, and even then.” She sighed. “Rachel, Charles, I am sorry to draw you into this. John, Bettina, and I pray day and night for guidance. How do we save Moses and Ailee without compromising Father? And without compromising ourselves? You all know what will happen if either of them are caught.”

Sitting at his drafting table, Charles solemnly reached up to touch his sister-in-law’s wrist. “There might be another way.”

John pulled a chair over for his wife and then for Rachel. He sat on a small high bench after removing papers, books, twine.

“What do you do with this?” John held up the twine.

“I put a little lead sinker on the end and use it for a straight line. Like we did when we built the bridges only wee, tiny. Sometimes if I can see something off the page, see all the dimensions, I can think better.”

Catherine returned to the problem. “A plan?”

“I have been given the commission to design St. Luke’s, as you know. Well, St. Luke’s is a Lutheran church in a new land. I know Winchester Cathedral”—he smiled—“wouldn’t fit here. And a Lutheran church must not be confused with Catholic, right? Or these newer faiths, the evangelical faiths. The Quakers. Lutheran is distinctive. It’s still high church, but less”—he twirled his right hand as he tried to convey his meaning—“bombastic.”

Catherine smiled. “You think the Church of England is bombastic?”

“After Harry the Eighth, it had to rival Rome.” Charles smiled back. “The Dissolution scars still disfigure my homeland, and I truly pray such a terrible thing never happens here.”

“It can’t,” said John. “We have the separation of church and state, thanks to James Madison, who crafted that for Virginia.” John hadn’t fought in the war for nothing.

“And let us hope it holds forever, but back to St. Luke’s,” said Charles. “There are few models in Virginia, but I know there are many in Pennsylvania. Captain Bartholomew Graves, whom John will recall, now lives in York. He says the churches there are uncommonly beautiful, both Episcopal and Lutheran. The good captain swears every second person is a Lutheran, but he mentioned a particular church, Christ Lutheran on George Street.”

“Do you think they will change the street names?” Rachel blurted this out.

“Why? We were a colony of the king. Better to remember than forget,” John levelly declared.

“If it’s any further help, there’s also a King Street, a Queen Street, a Prince Street, a Duke Street. The residents of York will keep their king and queen, which brings me to this church. It was a log cabin in the 1600s. They say it is the first church west of the Susquehanna River. Over the decades, with trade increasing and people moving there, the church has been built out of red brick, all surmounted by a most beautiful proportionate steeple. It can be seen for miles around.”

Rachel bestowed upon her husband her sweetest smile. “Charles, dear, what has this to do with Moses and Ailee?”

“Oh, I digress. What would I do if I didn’t have you to bring me back to the path?”

“You’d listen to me bark.” Piglet guffawed, which made the others laugh, although they didn’t know what the brave fellow had said.

“Yes, dear.” Rachel smiled.

“Yes, well, I will tell all and sundry that I must go to York to study these Lutheran churches, most especially Christ Lutheran. This will be a short visit. Karl can help me build a steeple, an example.” He held up his hands. “A steeple to be looked over by the Lutheran pastors and their architects. We will hide Moses in the steeple, which I will cart up there on a wagon. The steeple will have slits so he can breathe and a door so he can step out at night and sleep in the straw, which will fill the wagon to protect the steeple. A steeple is the only structure I can think of that will work. It can be big enough that he can sit in it. When out of sight, we can pass food and drink to him. At night we can pull into an Ordinary, put the wagon under a shed roof or something. He can climb out, burrow under in the straw, and sleep.”

No one uttered a word. Even Piglet remained silent.

Finally Catherine stood up, stared at the setting sun, the thrilling beauty of an equinox sunset over the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Charles, you may have found the way. I pray to God you have.” She mused. “The changing seasons. How it marks time.” She turned to the others. “I have involved each of you in a dangerous enterprise. Please do forgive me, but when I saw Moses and Ailee, when they first sought refuge here, my heart near broke. I could not turn them in nor turn them away.” She paused for a long time. “Rachel, remember when Mother and Father would read us Bible passages?”

“I do.”

“Remember how upset we were when she read to us about Cain and Abel? And Cain says, ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ ” She stared at her lovely sister, recalling their mother’s liquid voice. “I believe we are our brother’s keepers. I don’t know what it means except that I must save these two souls. I think Mother would.”

Quietly, with conviction, Rachel replied, “I think so, too. We are all in danger, Catherine, but it isn’t your doing. It started with Francisco Selisse.”

Charles ruefully added, “It started thousands of years before that. Catherine, what you’ve done has awakened us. If we are careful, if Moses keeps his wits, he will be safe with Captain Graves as a freedman worker. We can give the captain and his wife money to help feed and clothe him. In time, if Moses wants to move on, he can, just so long as he doesn’t return here.”

“He can never return,” Catherine spoke with determination. “He will never see Ailee again.”

“You two have not seen her.” John spoke to Charles and Rachel. “Her face has been broken. She is blind in her left eye.”

“Maureen Selisse wrought her revenge on a poor creature who was innocent.” John surprised them with his vehemence. “Wicked. At least Francisco deserved what he got.”

“Wicked and very female,” Rachel opined, but without rancor.

“We aren’t going to solve these foolish things,” Charles said. “Karl and I can have the steeple built in two days. I’d like to cover the top with copper, but that will slow us down. Shakes will do for now. Can you ready Moses for the day after tomorrow?”

John nodded. “Father Gabe and Bettina will have to do that.”

“Will they?” Charles asked.

“Yes.”

“The other slaves know. Are Moses and Ailee safe? And what about us? Slaves talk just as much as any other group of people.” Charles felt a creep of apprehension on his skin.

“They will keep silent,” Catherine said. “Charles, think of what they stand to lose.”

“What of Ailee?” Charles inquired.

“She doesn’t speak. She has lost the power. If anyone were to see her, they would know who she is. She is so light-skinned. Everyone knows that, too. The story of Francisco’s murder has strong legs.”

Rachel looked at her sister. “Where can she go, and is she strong enough to travel?”

Catherine shook her head. “She’s not strong enough. Father Gabe moved some bones back into place, but she will never look as she did, and she is blind in that eye. And yet the other side of her face remains so beautiful, so very beautiful. We must keep her until we can find a way. Moses can grow a beard. He’ll look like so many other young men. But Ailee will only ever look like Ailee.”

“She can’t stay in that cave forever,” Charles exclaimed. “I haven’t been there, nor should I, but caves are damp and cold, and the nights grow longer and colder.”

Rachel spoke this time. “Let’s get Moses out first. Then we can attend to Ailee.”

“There is another complication.” Catherine took a deep breath. “She is with child. Bettina believes this to be so.”

Rachel again spoke: “As I said, we will attend to Ailee later.”

Walking back to their house, arm in arm, Catherine and John admired the sunset, now in full flame.

“Change,” Catherine simply said.

“I welcome it.”

“I do, too, but now I feel as though the earth is moving under me. I thought things were clear, right and wrong. Simple. Am I changing or are the times?”

He bent down to kiss her cheek. “Both. When I fought I knew what I had to do even if I didn’t know how to do it. And I found a way. The cannonade, the whistle of bullets. War is both difficult and easy. This is not easy. Maybe, Catherine, everyone faces such moments or difficulties as we now find ourselves facing. The problem we have is certainly dangerous, but we will do the best we can.”

“And we will do it together.” She stopped, reached up, put her hand behind his neck, pulled his face to hers, and kissed him. “I love you so.”