Whiskers In The Dark

18

September 30, 1787

Sunday

The faint sound of beautiful singing intermittently drifted up to Sulli through the open window at Big Rawly. Given that the night had turned cold, the window, allowing just a gap of daylight, let in the sound with a slight breeze.

In general, Maureen Selisse Holloway, driven and ruthless as she was, thought her slaves singing and praying on Sundays quite a good thing. The Old Testament, that paean to monotheism, justified dictatorships, one-man rule. Justified slavery, too. Her late husband ran the place with her help, but she was in charge and everyone knew it. Her father, who used the same methods, equally impressed her. Being a widow would have been a form of freedom, but when Jeffrey looked at her with that handsome face, those sensitive eyes, well, a lady must live. So he was her screen. Everyone knew, of course, but fictions must be preserved.

In Sulli’s hand were topaz earrings, a lovely but modest necklace, no large stones.

“Where’s she keep her jewelry?” William wanted to get out before the service ended.

“Elizabetta has the key.”

“Where’s the stuff?” he demanded.

Rather than argue with him, Sulli glided through the main room, Ralston in tow, moved into the hall and down to the small pantry. She turned left, stood at the top of a solid wooden stairway leading down to a root cellar. Halfway down the stairs a metal door, large, filled part of the wall.

“It’s in here.”

“Even if we had a crowbar, we couldn’t open that.” Ralston’s jaw dropped.

“Dammit!” William turned, nearly knocking over his beloved, and charged upstairs. “There’s got to be something we can turn into money.”

“Tack?” Ralston thought.

“Too much to carry. The pieces you brought me were hard to sell. We need jewelry and cash.” He turned to Sulli. “Everyone has a box of money to pay little things.”

Sulli wordlessly walked to the kitchen and opened a drawer. “Household stuff.”

He pulled the drawer all the way out. Some scrip and coins rested in the bottom. He scooped them up.

“William, we need to get.” Ralston knew that while services were long, more time not to work, they weren’t that long.

“We need two heavy coats,” William ordered Sulli.

“Wait here.” She left, returning with two woolen jackets, dark gray, plus a beige one for herself and a scarf.

William sighed, taking a jacket from her. Ralston also lifted a jacket off her arm. If Ralston had thought about this, he would have realized William didn’t have much of a plan. Sulli tried to come up with useful items, but what could she do? Big Rawly, well run, treasures locked away or hidden, would yield little.

“Do you know where the key is to the wall safe?”

Sulli stared at William. “Around Elizabetta’s neck.”

“Why can’t we wait until she comes back? We can tear that key off her neck.” William rubbed his hands together.

“She’d scream,” Ralston sensibly noted.

“Put your hand over her mouth and I’ll hit her upside the head.”

“William, don’t be stupid. Everyone on this place would turn against you.” Sulli may have loved him and believed he loved her, but she was beginning to doubt his intelligence.

“She serves Maureen. Who would care?”

“She’s not like Sheba.” Sulli had known Sheba since she was a child and Sheba was hateful to everyone, including children. “She does the Mistress’s bidding, but if she can help without that witch knowing, she does.”

“What’s that to me? We need things to sell.” William nearly spat.

“We can steal along the way.” Ralston wanted to get moving.

“He’s right.” Sulli smiled at Ralston.

“Goddammit.” William stalked off, looking over his shoulder. “Well, come on.”

Walking behind hedges and trees, fall now obvious, they headed down to Ivy Creek. The idea was to go east-northeast, to get through Virginia and Maryland. Once in Pennsylvania they could decide whether to keep moving north or find work with rich horsemen. Pennsylvania boasted fine carriages, and people needed good hands with horses.

Running to freedom. Three young people, Ralston sixteen, Sulli eighteen, and William twenty-two. They weren’t just running to freedom; they would find money, maybe even fame. Silk breeches awaited them and patent leather shoes with gold buckles. Low-cut dresses with sheer lace bodices and exquisite bonnets, such fine things to adorn young heads. The world beckoned.