skinny chest and coppery skin. I wondered then if my dream was real. He stepped in between the mother and child, stroking their flanks and saying something I couldn't hear. They pressed their snouts against him in a friendly way and then went back to eating. John then turned toward me.
In his right hand he carried the napkin that Flore had wrapped my cookies with. He held the big handkerchief by the corners like it was a sack.
'Good morning, Forty-seven,' he said upon reaching me. 'Did you sleep well?'
'They gonna kill us, Numbah Twelve,' I replied.
'Would you like to flee to the north?' he asked.
'I ain't jokin' wit' you, fool.'
'I'm not telling a joke,' he said. 'If you wish we can head north right now. By day after tomorrow we'll be in a place that doesn't have slavery and doesn't return slaves.'
'Ain't no sucha place,' I said.
'There are many lands that don't have slaves, Forty-seven. Canada, Vermont.'
I could tell that he was serious, that he was willing, with no more than a shrug and a nod, to take me away from all the chains and chiggers and cotton. All I had to do was say yes and the misery of my daily existence would have fallen away.
'What you got in that napkin?' I asked him.
'I went back to my bag in the tree and got a chemical that will kill the virus in Eloise's brain. I also collected various fungi that will carry the serum through her blood.'
'So if we run away she'll die?'
'Probably.'
'But if we wait and run away later can we take Flore and Champ and Mud Albert with us?'
'No,' John said. 'Only you.'
If I ran Miss Eloise would die, and my friends would remain slaves no matter what I did. I couldn't imagine a life where Eloise was dead and where I'd never lay eyes on Big Mama Flore again. The only choice I had was to go back to Corinthian, and I knew that I would at least get bull-whipped for running away.
I could feel the lash on my back even as I stood there in that primal paradise. Fear of the whip brought tears to my eyes. But the thought of leaving my friends and the thought of the Master's daughter dying was too much for me.
That was the way it was for the short while that I knew Tall John from beyond Africa. Everything he said to me was both a test and a lesson. Being his friend was my first experience with the responsibilities of freedom.
'We bettah get back,' I said.
'But you said that they would kill us,' John argued. 'Wouldn't it be better to run?'
'But that girl is dyin'.'
'But she's related to people that make Negroes into
slaves. Wouldn't it be better to let her die? Wouldn't it be better for Tobias to feel like you do about the suffering of your people? Anyway, Flore and Mud Albert will be slaves if you go back or not.'
I looked up at the strange boy who had befriended me. At first I thought that he was making fun of me. But when I looked into his face I saw that he really expected me to have no feelings for Eloise and even the other slaves.
'No,' I said. 'I wanna run. An' I sho nuff don' wanna die. But I'd be lonely without my friends in Canaland and I don't blame Miss Eloise for my sufferin'.'
'One day you will have to leave the plantation, Forty-seven. Your destiny is far from here.'
'Come on,' I said. 'Let's get back before I change my mind about runnin'.'
The sun was out and John was able to move fast again. So it wasn't too very long before we got to the plantation. I wanted to go right out in the fields and start working, pretending that nothing had happened. But John ran us right up to the front porch of the Master's home and knocked on his door.
Fred Chocolate answered. I knew we were in trouble when a worried look came into his sour face. I knew we were dead.
'Run,' Fred said. 'Run away from here you stupid niggers. Run.'
teen
'I've come to see Tobias,' John said.
'Tell this soft-headed fool to run from here,' Fred said to me.
I grabbed John's arm but his feet were planted like tree roots. There was no moving him.
'Bring Tobias Turner to me,' John said in a stern tone.
Fred fell back a step and then a voice came from somewhere in the house.
'Who is that you're talkin' to, Fred Chocolate?' It was Master Tobias.
My guts turned to water and my knees were no sturdier than blades of grass. Tobias came to the door, pushing the butler aside.
