The Longest Road – Sample Chapters
(Sequel to The Deepest Waters)
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Chapter 1
Late October, 1857
Foster Mansion, Gramercy Park
New York City
The dreaded day had finally arrived.
Laura’s eyes panned the room, making mental pictures of the scene. She didn’t want to forget a thing. John’s childhood bedroom. It had been their living quarters for the past month. A marvelous refuge after the terrific ordeal they’d been through with the shipwreck. It was larger than their master bedroom back in San Francisco which, to that point in her life, had been the biggest bedroom she’d ever seen.
Every bedroom in the Foster Mansion was bigger than every room in their house. John’s parents’ bedroom was larger than their entire first floor. But it wasn’t the size of the place she’d miss. Or the elaborate furnishings.
It was the people. John’s family. Especially Allison, who’d quickly become the sister Laura never had. Then Joel, his wife Evelyn and their children. Nieces and nephews Laura had only just begun to know. They were the cutest things, and had already started calling her Auntie Laura, jumping for joy whenever they saw her. Laura would even miss John’s mother.
After today, would she ever see any of them again?
Beyond John’s family, there was her second family. Micah, Eli and Sally. In some ways, she felt closer to them than anyone. Especially Micah. How could she leave them now?
San Francisco had indeed become her home. The place where she had met John, where they’d fallen in love and gotten married. And John had built her such a nice house. They hadn’t even moved in yet. Before their honeymoon trip, she had so looked forward to beginning to furnish and decorate it.
But San Francisco was SO far away. So very far away.
She sighed.
Perhaps that’s what she dreaded most of all. The journey itself.
It wasn’t how long it would take. Thanks to the kindness of God, she’d get to spend all that time alone with John. She reminded herself of how very differently these past four weeks would have gone had he perished in the shipwreck, as they had feared. Instead, she and John were starting a new chapter of their lives together. And whatever was contained in those pages, it would be infinitely better than the horrible life that could have been.
But this journey they were about to take, by necessity, must include getting back on a shipand sailing far away from land for days — if not weeks — at a time. She shuddered just thinking about it. The nightmares were not as bad or as intense as the first few weeks, but she was still having them. Stuck alone on a ship adrift at sea. Or like John, floating on a raft but all alone, with sharks circling the waters around her.
John had assured her, this trip would not be anything like the last. She stood next to the dresser, the very spot where John had explained how this time there’d be no disasters or perils at sea.
“I’ve worked it all out, Laura,” he’d said ever so gently. “Believe me, I’m as nervous about getting back on a ship as you. But we’re years away from a railroad that connects all the way to California. Even taking those that exist as far as they’d go, we’d still be spending weeks, if not months, in a bumpy uncomfortable wagon riding through hot steamy deserts, crossing rivers with no bridges, through areas that often come under attack by Indians.”
“I know,” Laura said.
John continued. “With the plan I’ve been working on, we’ll be riding in first class accommodations on a train from here to Savannah. That cuts down on two-thirds of the trip on the Atlantic side of the sea and gets us two states south of the place where the Vandervere went down, where the hurricane hit. And from everything I’ve learned, it’s very rare for hurricanes to hit that part of the ocean in late October. Once we get to Panama, we cross over to the Pacific side by train again. You remember the voyage on the Pacific side.”
She did. It was mostly calm and peaceful sailing. It all sounded so well and good the way John had explained it. Nevertheless, just thinking about getting on a ship again — any ship — sent shivers up her spine. She just didn’t feel ready. But there was nothing that could be done. They had to get home. And this was the only way.
The bedroom door opened, abruptly ending her thoughts and memories. It was Sally, Micah’s daughter, carrying folded sheets and bed linens. Laura turned to face her.
“You didn’t have to make the bed, Miss Laura. Mrs. Foster wants me to strip the bed down and redo all the linens.”
Try as she might, Laura could never get Sally to just call her by her first name. “I’m sorry. I forgot. Just did it out of habit, I guess.” She sighed.
“That’s okay.” Sally started un-making the bed.
That’s when Laura noticed her face, her eyes. Something was wrong. She was trying to cover it up, but something was troubling her. “Are you okay, Sally?”
She kept working. “I’ll be fine, if I just stay busy.”
Laura saw tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re not okay. What’s the matter? Are you sad because we’re leaving today? I know I am.”
“Plenty sad because of that.” She moved around to the other side of the bed. “Gonna miss you folks something awful. But it ain’t that. I don’t think I can talk about what it —” The tears just flowed. She tried wiping them away but her sadness was too strong.
Laura rushed toward her put her arm around her shoulder. “What is it, Sally? Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Sally turned, put her arms around Laura and just cried. “Oh, Miss Laura. It’s so terrible. I’m afraid Eli gonna go and get himself killed. And there ain’t nothing I can do about it.”
“Eli’s going to be killed?” Laura repeated. “Why? What has he done?”
Sally lifted her head, then stood in front of Laura, wiped her tears on her sleeve. “It’s not what he’s done. It’s what he’s fixin’ to do. And if he does what he’s sayin’, none of us will ever see him again. I just know it.”
Chapter 2
Leaving Laura to finish up the packing, John made his way down the main staircase of the Foster home, by itself a work of art. It was funny. As a child, he never appreciated this place. But being back this past month after being gone for two years, he was seeing it in a brand-new light. Probably the way most people view it when they first walked through the finally-crafted front doors.
Very rich people lived here. That would be your first impression.
But John could also say — and this with great clarity — it no longer felt like home. He was most definitely visiting the family manse, a guest, and nothing more. He cleared the last few steps and headed for the veranda at the back of the house. There he would meet his older brother, Joel, for breakfast. Something Joel had requested yesterday when they parted. It wasn’t just a chance for a last goodbye before John and Laura left for San Francisco. Apparently, Joel had “something rather important” to discuss with John and said he’d come here from his place a few blocks away.
“Meet you there at seven, my good man,” Joel had said.
Looking at his watch, John saw that it was five after, which meant Joel would already be in his seat in the veranda, his coffee already poured. This was confirmed after John made it through three familiar doorways and stepped into the nippy morning air. There was Joel at the far end, dressed as though attending a dinner party rather than a casual breakfast. Coffee in one hand, morning newspaper in the other. As John closed the distance, he noticed a silver serving tray on the mahogany buffet to the left, lid still on, a silver serving spoon beside it on a china plate. A matching silver coffee set was beside that on an ornamental tray complete with a silver creamer and bowl for sugar.
“Oh, there you are,” Joel said. “Hoped you didn’t forget.” He set the newspaper down.
“It’s only five-after, Joel.”
“Right,” he said, sipping his coffee. “I don’t know where Sally is. She was supposed to serve us breakfast this morning. She’s usually quite prompt.”
John glanced at the distance between Joel and the silver food tray. Couldn’t be more than twelve feet. “Who poured your coffee?”
“I did. Couldn’t wait any longer.”
A wonder you survived, John thought. He walked over to the tray, lifted the lid. Wasn’t exactly sure what he was seeing, but it smelled delicious.
“Sally should be here in a couple of minutes,” Joel said. “Can’t imagine what’s keeping her.”
“Well, how about this?” John said. “I will serve you and me some of this delicious whatever-it-is breakfast stuff here.” He picked up the serving spoon. “It’ll be great practice for me, since we’re heading back to a place where we don’t have people who serve you food and pour your coffee.”
“I suppose that’ll do. But the way things seem to be going for you out there, I expect it won’t be long before you and Laura can afford to hire several house servants to take care of the mundane things.”
John finished putting the breakfast food on Joel’s plate. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“It was, in a way. I have to be honest, John. I haven’t said this since you’ve been back, but I should have. You surprised all of us upon your return. Considering the little you had when you went out there two years ago, it was almost shocking to learn that you and Laura had sailed all this way in first class accommodations, and that your hardware business was doing so well. Neither Father nor I saw that coming.”
John didn’t know what to say. This conversation was certainly uncharted territory for him. He finished putting food on his plate, poured his coffee and brought all this to the table. “Here you go, sir,” he said serving Joel’s plate. “Hope you enjoy your breakfast…casserole?”
“I can’t remember what Sally calls it,” Joel said. “But I can’t get enough of it. There are biscuits in there, scrambled eggs, sausage, some kind of cheese. I’ve spent very little time in the South, but I have certainly enjoyed the unique southern dishes she brought with her when she escaped.”
“That’s one thing I definitely haven’t missed, being back,” John said. “Dealing with the injustice of slavery. They don’t have it out in San Francisco. It’s great to see all the freed Negroes around the city here, but there still seems to be so much tension in the air.”
“I know,” Joel said. “Things seem to definitely be heating up on that issue. I see it every day in the newspaper. Can’t tell where this situation will end up.”
“Aren’t you and Mother at all nervous about employing Sally and Eli? Like you said, she escaped from the South. Eli’s a runaway, too, isn’t he?”
Joel finished chewing, nodded.
“I was reading an article yesterday,” John said, “about some slave catchers from Virginia wanting to press charges against this white couple in Brooklyn, for housing a runaway slave they’d hired and hid the past several months.”
“Nothing will come of that,” Joel said. “Technically, it is the law. Northerners aren’t supposed to help runaway slaves from the South, and we can be arrested or fined if we’re caught doing it. I’ve not been personally involved in any of this, but from hearing conversations between Mother and Allison, sentiments in the North are siding more with the abolitionists. We can’t stop the slave catchers from coming up here searching for runaways, but fewer people are cooperating with them, and most of the authorities around here are unwilling to enforce these laws. Against the whites, I mean.”
“So, Sally and Eli aren’t in danger of being captured by these…slave catchers?”
“I suppose they’re not entirely out of danger, but it’s been over three years for both of them, and no one has come looking. During that time, the organization Mother’s dealing with secured legal-looking papers for them both. So, it seems they’re in the clear. At least for now. But like I said, who knows where this whole situation is headed? I heard Mother talking with a neighbor a few weeks ago, who wanted to hire a Negro for her staff but she was saying that most of them—the ones that escape now, I mean—don’t stop here in New York for good. They keep going till they reach Canada.”
John sighed. “That’s the one part of our trip home I’m not looking forward to. For Laura, it’s about being on the ship. For me, it’s more about the trip down to Savannah. We’ll mostly be on a train, but it’s gonna be hard riding through all those slave states, which is most of the trip. Seeing the way they treat people like Micah, Sally and Eli. I don’t know how Laura’s going to handle it, when we see them being mistreated nearby.”
“Or how about this,” Joel said, “if the train makes a stop in the center of one of the southern towns — which it most likely will do — and you see slaves being auctioned on the block right outside your window? That could very well happen.”
John shook his head. “I know. Not looking forward to that at all.”
Joel stood up, carried his plate to the buffet. “I simply must have more of this.”
“Look at you, serving yourself,” John said.
“You want a little more?”
“No, I have plenty. But what was it you were wanting to talk to me about before I left? You said it was something important.”
“It is. And in a roundabout way, we’ve been edging toward it this whole time.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“It’s about your trip back to San Francisco,” Joel said. “I’ve already talked this over with Father. And believe it or not, he’s on board with what I’m about to say.”
John set his fork down. “Which is?”
“We have a proposal to make that will include…well, it would include you and Laura notgetting on that train today. And well…notgoing back to San Francisco at all.”
Chapter 3
Harrison Townhome, Gramercy Park
New York City
Presently, Micah was where he’d usually be most mornings these days…in the carriage house at the Harrison place. Doing what he usually did most mornings…getting the Harrison’s horses ready to face the day. Every morning since he got here a month ago, it be so easy to start the day off smiling. Just the fact he was a free man was enough. Even had the papers to prove it.
Could still hardly believe it.
At this age, Micah had never allowed even a hope to form that he’d ever be free this side of heaven. Figured he’d end up his number of days serving Captain Meade aboard the Cutlass. Hard as that was, those three years had been the easiest to bear since his first memories working out in the cotton fields as a young boy.
But now look at what the Lord had done for him? “Yes sir, Shadrach, these are my best days, for sure. Standing here, brushing your mane, smooth as silk. Can’t hardly call it a chore.” Shadrach nodded, as if he understood. Fact was, Micah didn’t mind any of the work that went along with caring for these horses. Nicest looking creatures he’d ever laid eyes on. Had to be some high breeding at work here. When he first got to the Harrisons, he was led to believe he’d find the horses stubborn and difficult to manage. But after just a few days, the opposite was true.
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were just as calm and good-natured as you’d want horses to be. Course, that weren’t their names in the beginning. They didn’t even have names. They were just the brown one, the dark brown one, and the black one. That was part of the problem. Creatures this fine and this smart had to have names. Micah knew right off what to call them. Three of his favorite Bible characters from the book of Daniel. Before the first week was out, all three responded to their names like they’d known them all their lives.
“You just needed someone to start treating you right, didn’t you boy?” Micah stroked the brush across Shadrach’s back. “Give you a little respect. A kind word every now and then never hurt no one, neither.” Shadrach was the biggest of the three. The Harrisons had two different carriages, parked up front. Both as fine as anything Micah had seen at the plantation houses down south. The one Shadrach pulled had just the one seat, could hold maybe three people. The other was big enough for the whole family to ride in. Meshach and Abednego shared the load on that one.
Micah glanced up at the clock, wondered what time John and Laura would be leaving the Foster place to start their long journey back home. The thought saddened him. About the only sadness he’d known in recent days. First, that they were going so very far away. And second, didn’t know if he’d ever get to see them again. Considering his age, and how long it took folks to get from one side of the country to the other. And he knew how much Miss Laura hated boat rides. Given how bad her last one went, who could blame her?
He sighed. Wished there was some way he could see them both again one last time. He owed his entire situation to their love and kindness. No one on earth had ever treated him the way John and Laura had.
Just then, Micah heard a familiar sound at the back of the carriage house. His dog Crabby whining in the little pen he made for her. “You being so patient, girl,” he yelled. “I’ll be there in just a minute. I promise.” Whenever Micah wasn’t tending the horses, Crabby got to be with him. But these horses had never been around a dog, and Crabby had never been around horses. For a while longer, he had to keep their getting acquainted times on a short leash. All it would take was one time and one horse getting spooked with Crabby underfoot, and she’d be hurt awful bad, maybe even killed.
But Micah could tell of late, the horses were warming up to ole Crabby. How could they not? She just the sweetest thing.
Three knocks on wood. Micah heard them clearly at the front of the carriage house. Wouldn’t be the Harrison’s, since it be their place they always just walk right in. “I’ll be up there in just a second.”
“Micah, that you?” someone yelled back. The voice, southern and familiar.
“It’s me,” he said.
“I was told I’d find you here, but I didn’t believe ’em. Last I heard, you were sailin’ on the open seas.”
Micah set the horse brush in its place, patted Shadrach on the back, and returned the horse to his stall. He came out, looked down the walkway between the two carriages toward the front, saw the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway.
“Why, it is you, Micah.” The man took a few steps forward. “It’s me, Josiah Johnson. From Fredericksburg. I come in? Don’t feel safe standing out here in the open.”
“Josiah? Haven’t seen you for so long.” Micah hurried toward him. “Sure, you can come in. Safe as can be in here. Just me and the horses, and my dog.” Crabby was whining something fierce now, her tail thumping against the pen door. She loved company.
The men met in the middle exchanged hugs and pats on the back.
“Don’t think you changed even a little,” Josiah said.
“You about the same,” Micah said. “Little grayer on top. Few more creases around the eyes.”
“Yeah, that’s what folks tell me.” Josiah looked around. “My, this what they have you doing now? Taking care of horses in a place like ‘dis?” He stroked the side of the family carriage. “A very nice situation you got yourself here.”
“I know it but good,” Micah said. “Should see where I stay now. Got a little place all my own upstairs. Most comfortable bed I ever slept in. You wanna come see it?”
“Wish I could, but I’m kinda in a hurry.”
“Oh…so…how life been treating you down in Fredericksburg?”
“Not too good, my friend. Area’s come on some hard times. Crops took a real beating just over a month ago when that hurricane came on shore. You hear anything about that?”
“Oddly enough, I did. And in a way, that hurricane — and what the good Lord did ‘cause of it — helped me get my freedom.”
“You free now?”
“Totally free, papers and all.”
“First good thing I ever heard come out of a hurricane. It messed up things for us but good. Bunch-a plantation owners sellin’ slaves left and right to make up for they losses, breaking up families like nobody’s business. So much heartache and grief going on every day down there ever since.”
“Sorry to hear it,” Micah said. “How’d you come to be up here in New York?”
“I run away, just like your Eli and Sally did three years ago. Escaped with my wife and son. Got helped by that woman they call Moses, same as Eli did.”
“Only Moses I know not a woman,” Eli said.
“This one is. On account of all our people she helped get free. Real name Harriet Tubman. Works with the Underground Railroad.”
“Now, that I’ve heard of. So, what…you all gonna live up here now?”
“Wish I could, but they say we best keep going north, till we reach Canada.”
“Why’s that? No slaveowners up here. Most folks, I found, either treat you nice or just leave you alone. But nobody’s treated me the way things were down south.”
“Not the slaveowners we worrying about,” Josiah said. “It’s the slave catchers. Supposed to be all over the place up here just waiting to snatch any runaway slaves they come across, drag ‘em back down to their masters for a pretty penny. You got your papers, so I ‘spect you okay. But Micah, Eli and Sally, could be in danger. That’s what they tell me anyway.”
“I surely hope not. They got papers too, now, say they free. Don’t know if they’re real or not. But Mr. Joel—the man they work for—say no one’s gonna take ‘em away. He make sure of it.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Josiah said. “But we ain’t got no one to look out for us up here, so we best keep movin’ till we get beyond their reach.”
“When you heading out again?”
“First thing tomorrow, is what I hear. But when I heard you were nearby, I had to come see for myself.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. Say, since you were in Fredericksburg not too long ago, hear any news about my youngest girl, Hannah? All I know is what Eli told me, about when he escaped with Sally three years ago. Said she wouldn’t come with them because of some boy she in love with. He a slave at some other plantation.”
Josiah’s expression instantly changed. “‘Fraid I do. And the news ain’t good. Fact is, that’s part of the reason I came to find you, when I heard you was close by. Hannah went and married that young man she was in love with, about a year after Eli and Sally left. But her master one of the ones who recently lost all that money ‘cause of the hurricane. He sold her off to some rich owner from Charleston, tore her right out of the arms of her husband. I was there when it happened. She was screaming and crying like her life was over. And the worst part of it was, this slaveowner from Charleston not a nice man. Folks were saying — and judging by the other slave girls he bought— I could believe it. All of them pretty young girls. Every single one. Her husband tried to stop ‘em, and they beat him unconscious.”
Micah’s heart sank within him. Oh, Lord, Jesus.
Josiah put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “So sorry to be bringin’ such terrible news. But I thought you ought to know.”
Micah sighed, tried to fight back a surge of tears he felt coming. “Poor Hannah.”
“Yep,” Josiah said. “An awful thing.”
Micah looked up at Josiah. “Could you do me one favor, my friend. If you see my boy Eli before you leave tomorrow, could you hold off on tellin’ him this sad news about his sister? I’d rather be—”
Josiah got this look on his face.
“What’s the matter?” Micah said.
“Too late. Saw Eli yesterday afternoon. Told him everything I just told you. It was Eli told me where to find you.”
