The overseers allowed another slave to take the beaten woman back to the cabin, on the grounds that her blood might soil the cotton. Corina toiled thoughtlessly as the sun sank behind her into the trees. Her mind was buzzing with the horror of what she had seen. The overseers kept an eye on the workers, but there was no further trouble.
Finally, it was too dark to work anymore, so the slaves presented their full satchels and headed back to the cabins. Corina stumbled along the dirt path, ready to collapse with exhaustion. Connor, Corina, Chloe, John and Ben met Eliza at the door of the cabin as she was about to leave.
“I made supper,” Eliza said hurriedly. “I’ve already eaten.”
“Now wait a minute, Eliza,” said Chloe, stopping her daughter as she made to leave. “Where you goin’ so late at night? I need your help. Dere’s ole’ Aunt Hannah at Mir’yam’s cabin, an’ she’s got it bad””
“Oh, but Mamma,” Eliza protested pleadingly, “I’s promised Aaron, and if I don’t show””
“Aaron? You’s bustin’ off to see your Aaron when Aunt Hannah’s in such a state?” Ben demanded indignantly. “Why, he’s de one what””
“Min’ yo’ own business, Ben,” Chloe snapped, cutting him off. She turned to Corina, who had been following the conversation with difficulty. “Clara, honey, will you help me take care o’ Aunt Hannah, so’s ‘Liza can see her friend?” Corina nodded mutely.
“Dere, problem solved,” said Chloe gently. “Go on, ‘Liza, but don’ be too late.” Eliza nodded gratefully and disappeared into the darkness.
“Let me jes get my supplies,” said Chloe, hurrying into the house. John and Ben made a beeline for the steaming wooden bowl on the table, full of potatoes and bits of meat.
“Connor,” said John, heaping potatoes onto a tin plate. “Come sit down, brudder. Have some food an’ tell me ‘bout yo’self.”
Connor shot a nervous glance at Corina, who shrugged helplessly.
“Don’ pester him, John,” said Chloe distractedly as she gathered a few rags and an unmarked ceramic bottle full of liquid.
“I ain’t pesterin’ him, Chloe,” John replied testily, stabbing at the potatoes in the bowl. “But I got a right to know what sort o’ man be stayin’ in my house.”
“I-it’s all right,” Connor stammered, sitting down and accepting the plate of potatoes pushed toward him.
Chloe sighed and shook her head, but was too preoccupied to say anything more. “Come wi’ me, den, Clara,” she said briskly, alighting on the doorstep. “Mir’yam’s cabin ain’t too far dis a’way.”
Wide awake again, Corina hurried out the door behind Chloe. They turned left and passed between their cabin and the one next to it, around the back of the house and across a small open space, before they came to the doorway of another cabin, from which a flickering orange light was being emitted from a small window. In the shadows at the side of the house, Corina caught a glimpse of a flourishing vegetable garden. The trellises on which the tomato vines climbed cast eerie shadows on the path where Corina walked.
Inside the cabin, a young woman a few years older than Eliza bent over the old woman from the field, whom Chloe had called Aunt Hannah.
Hannah lay face down on a straw pallet on the dirt floor. She was naked from the waist up. Corina stifled a gasp. Hannah’s back and shoulders were covered in long welts and gashes, and sticky with drying blood. A kettle was whistling shrilly over the fire. To avoid looking at Hannah, Corina glanced around the cabin curiously. It was as sparsely furnished as Chloe’s, with a single table, two wooden benches, a chest and a ladder to the loft. What caught Corina’s attention, though, were the many odd-looking plants that hung from the rafters. There were strings of peppers and bean pods, bundles of grasses and leaves, and what appeared to be giant sunflower heads, dangling from their stems.
“Aunt Chloe, thank goodness,” said the young woman, relief evident in her soft voice. “I’s gonna try my best, but I ain’t never seen something quite dis bad, an’ Aunt Hannah ain’t so young no more.” She straightened up and walked over to the table, stopping on the way to pull a few leaves from a bundle. She sat on a bench and began crushing the leaves with a mortar and pestle.
“Don’ you worry, Mir’yam, chile,” said Chloe gently, setting her supplies on the table. “I’s gonna fix her up good. I see you’s got de water boilin’ already, dat’s a good girl.”
Chloe bustled around the room, soaking her rags in the boiling water and pouring on some of the contents of the ceramic bottle. Miriam watched closely and followed Chloe’s orders. Corina stood in the corner, feeling forgotten.
Chloe seemed to sense Corina’s uncertainty, because she turned to her and said, “Clara, go an’ talk to Aunt Hannah, over dere. She must be mighty lonely, waitin’ on us. Go innerduce yo’self.”
Hesitantly, Corina knelt in the corner by Hannah’s head. The old woman’s creased face was away from the wall, and Corina could see that her eyes were red from weeping, though her face was now dry.
Hannah’s hair was grey and thin, and her face sagged with wrinkles, but her eyes were clear and sharp. “Hello, Clara,” she greeted Corina hoarsely, before Corina could speak. “Now how come I ain’t met you before, honey?”
“Uh…” Corina was unsure whether to stick to her original, unconvincing story. Fortunately, Chloe had heard the question, too. “Speak up, chile,” she said. “Tell Aunt Hannah how you was bought by Massa Grayson, ‘long wid your daddy.”
Corina nodded in what she hoped was a convincing manner. “Yes, that’s right. Master, er, Grayson bought us from…Atlanta.”
“City man done gambled hisself broke,” Chloe explained to Hannah.
Hannah smiled kindly at Corina. “You’s in for a bit of a rude awakenin’, chile, comin’ here from de city. But don’ worry. De good Lord watch over us all, and He gon’ deliver us.”
Corina nodded again, hoping she looked like she knew what was going on. Hannah winced as Chloe gently laid a rag across her back. “Dat’s right, Aunt Hannah,” said Chloe confidently. “De day of Jubilee be comin’ any time now. I can feel it in my bones.”
“The day of what?” Corina asked without thinking.
Chloe stared at her. “De day of Jubilee. Don’ tell me you ain’ never heard?”
“No,” said Corina sheepishly, staring at her feet. Had she just given herself away?
Chloe shook her head, clucking. “What dese city slaves don’ know,” she muttered. “Mir’yam, you see how I’s doin’ de rags? Now you try.” As Miriam took over, Chloe knelt down in front of Corina and took her by the shoulders. “Clara, de day of Jubilee is de day when de good Lord gon’ deliver his people”dat’s us”from slavery. Dat’s de day of Jubilee. You unnerstan’?”
Corina nodded. “But how do you know it’s coming soon?” she asked excitedly. What if there had been some sort of prophecy, saying that a mysterious girl would show up out of the blue and use her amazing magical powers to”
Chloe chuckled. “I tell you how. ‘Cause de good Lord, he promise us he ain’ gon’ give us no more trials den we can bear”an’ de good Lord, he knows we can’t bear much more trials.” Hannah and Miriam laughed appreciatively. Corina giggled and suppressed her sigh of disappointment.
It was nearly midnight when Chloe and Corina arrived back at their cabin, but a candle still burned in the window. John and Connor came to meet them in the doorway. “How is she?” John asked Chloe.
Chloe shrugged. “She ain’t so young no more, an’ she got beat real bad, but she’s a tough woman. It’s hard to say.” John shook his head and turned to Corina.
“You look dead on your feet, Clara,” he said to her. “You’s best go on up to bed. ‘Nother long day tomorrow.”
Corina knew when she was not wanted. With a curious backward glance at the three adults, Corina entered the house and stepped out of sight of the doorway”but not out of hearing.
“Not so fast,” John remarked as Connor tried to go in after Corina. “I’d like a word wi’ you an’ my wife.”
Connor stopped walking, but not before he spotted Corina, standing next to the ladder, trying to look invisible. Connor was not fooled. “Cor”Clara,” he told her sternly. “Go.” He pointed up at the loft. Corina quickly scurried up the ladder, casting further curious glances at the doorway.
Corina crawled past the sleeping Ben and Eliza and sat on the floor of the loft, her legs pulled to her chest, sulking. She noticed that her 21st-century clothes from the day before had been folded and hidden in a corner, behind her father’s bedding. Suddenly, she remembered something that made her suppress a giggle of triumph and crawl to the corner hurriedly. Corina fished in her shorts’ pocket until she extracted her treasure: a thin, fleshy-looking string. Corina eagerly unravelled the Extendable Ear”purchased discreetly on an outing with an older friend bound for Southeast Wizards’ Institute”and then paused as she realised she could not go back down the creaky ladder and place the other end of the device by the doorway without detection.
Corina soon solved this problem by discovering a small stone wedged between two boards on the floor of the loft. She tied one end of the ear to the stone, hoping it would not interfere with reception, and took careful aim. The stone landed in the shadows next to the doorway with a small clatter. Corina held her breath. When she was not caught, she breathed a sigh of relief and listened.
“Yes, that’s exactly what happened, just what I told you,” Connor was saying impatiently.
“Dat’s what you told me, all right, but I don’ believe it for one minute, an’ I don’ tink you do, neider, Chloe,” said John angrily. He cut off Chloe as she tried to protest. “You ain’t stupid, woman, so why you buyin’ his lies? I don’t know why you’s lyin’ to me, boy, but you’d better come clean afore I trow you out. I won’ have liars livin’ in my house.”
Connor stammered frantically. Up in the loft, Corina winced. What would they do if John threw them out? If they tried to leave the plantation they’d be caught for sure and whipped, or worse.
Chloe sighed. “All right, John, all right. Connor, he’s right. I ain’t stupid. In fact, I’s smarter den eider of you gives me credit for, ain’t I?” John and Connor said nothing. Corina imagined they were looking at Chloe in confusion. “Men,” said Chloe exasperatedly. Corina smiled in the darkness. “Look here, John, I trust you. You’s my husband. Connor, you’s just gonna have to trust John too, all right?”
Connor must have nodded, because Chloe took a deep breath and continued. “You’s right about one ting, John: he’s lyin’. But I know why. Connor, ain’t you been wonderin’ why I’s been helpin’ you wid your story all day?” Corina blinked and kicked herself mentally for not noticing it. Helped? Chloe had practically concocted the entire thing, especially in Miriam’s cabin.
“I thought it was a bit odd, yes, but I wasn’t about to ask questions,” Connor said carefully. “Why were you helping us?”
“Because I heard you talkin’ wid Clara last night,” Chloe said softly. There was silence for a long moment. Corina held her breath.
“Well?” said John impatiently. “What was dey sayin’ dat made you wanna help ‘em so much you’d lie to your own husband?”
“Don’ pout, John, hear me out,” Chloe snapped. “I don’ quite unnerstan’ everyting I heard,” she continued slowly, “but I know dat you an’ your daughter”I don’ remember her real name, so I’s gonna keep callin’ her Clara”you an’ Clara ain’t from Atlanta at all, or not dis Atlanta.”
“Dey’s from a different Atlanta?” John interrupted disbelievingly.
Connor sighed. “We’re from Atlanta, but…in the future,” he explained resignedly.
“What?” John demanded incredulously. “Dat’s worse den de travellin’ circus!”
“John, keep your voice down!” Chloe scolded him fiercely. “Now you see why he been lyin’?”
John fell silent. Corina shoved the Extendable Ear further into her own right ear with one hand and sent up a quick prayer of thanksgiving for the ingenious English teenagers who had invented it, while she fidgeted with the hem of her dress in the other hand. “I still don’ know as I believe dat,” he said finally. “It’s an awful tall tale, sure as h””
“John!” Chloe scolded him fiercely, cutting off the rest of his words. There was a slap, as if Chloe had whacked John on the arm.
“But,” John finished, “I trust Chloe, an’ she trusts you. I just got one question more.”
“What’s that?” asked Connor cautiously.
“What happened to de girl’s mudder? De girl said she were dead. Dat anudder lie, or dat de troof?”
Corina relaxed a bit, but she felt the familiar ache as Connor answered, “That was the truth. Corina’s mother died in a car crash when Corina was six.”
There was another silence, before John burst out, “Died in a what?”
Connor remembered himself. “She, er, was killed in…an accident while travelling.”
John murmured in understanding and sympathy. “Poor chile,” Chloe clucked.
“It was my fault,” Connor blurted suddenly. Corina froze.
“What? How?” John demanded, echoing Corina’s thoughts.
Connor took a deep breath, then spoke in a rush. “When my wife was killed, I was devastated. I told myself I’d do anything to stop it. I stole a Time-Turner”that’s the thing we used to go back in time”I stole it from where I work, and I went back to the day she died and tried to stop her from getting hit.
“She had been on her way to visit her father in North Carolina, because he’s getting on in years, and she was worried about him. I knew she had called him that morning on the telephone”” If Connor realised Chloe and John had just lost him, he did not stop to clarify. “”and whatever he had said to her then made her worry. So I snuck into the house when she called, and I messed up the phone line with my wand. But then that just made her think that something was wrong with her dad’s phone line, and then she decided she needed to go see him. So you see, my trying to stop her from going was what made her go! But then that wasn’t all I did, because after””
“Connor! Connor,” Chloe interrupted. “I don’ know what you’re talkin’ about anymore, but whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault, I’s sure of dat.”
Corina yanked the string from her ear and flung it onto the floor of the loft, but Connor was nearly shouting now, and his voice wafted up to Corina where she sat. “But it was. And that’s why Corina and I have to get back home. We can’t change the past. If we change history, it could have horrific consequences. But I don’t know how to get home. I just want to go home!” he exclaimed, almost hysterically. Corina buried her face in her knees, willing her father to take control again.
Corina could hear Chloe soothing Connor and guiding him inside, telling him it would all look better in the morning. Corina hurriedly slid under her blanket when she heard the ladder creaking as the adults climbed it. Her face to the wall, Corina pretended to be asleep as she felt Connor lie down next to her.
I just want to go home, too, Corina thought miserably. She fingered the Time-Turner which she still wore under her nightdress. Corina went to sleep praying that when she woke up, it would all have been an unsettling dream.
Corina had no such luck, and she and Connor spent the next several days working in the cotton fields with the other slaves. As much as they wanted to get home, they still had no idea how to do it, and every day’s labor left them too exhausted to do more than collapse into bed, much less solve the conundrum.
On Saturday afternoon, the slaves were let off a couple hours earlier than usual. “Go down to de spring an’ wash up,” Chloe told Corina. “You’s gonna see someting new tonight.”
Corina trotted obediently down the now-familiar path that she had seen Ben take her first morning in the cabin. She walked past a small grove of trees and stopped to admire a fallen maple leaf. It was green at its widest part down by the stem, but each of its three triangular prongs was yellow with a hint of red at the tip. Corina picked up the leaf and twirled it as she walked along.
Corina had walked this path before in the early morning with the water bucket, but the scene painted before her as she walked atop a ridge overlooking the fields never ceased to strike her with its beauty. She could see the patchwork of brown cotton fields speckled with white, edged with dark green windbreaks of conifer trees. The sun was setting behind Corina, the forest casting long shadows on the path. In the distance to the north, the last rays of sunlight glistened off the surface of a river, creating a silvery ribbon that could barely be seen through the trees.
To the south was a grassy hill, on top of which stood the mansion where Master Grayson lived with his family. It was a hugely impressive, white building with a grey shingled roof and an abundance of glass windows. Corina could see a female slave wandering about the well-kept garden, calling for someone.
Corina turned reluctantly from the picturesque landscape and followed the path as it curved westward and reached the source of a small stream. There she crouched on the bank amongst the rushes and splashed water on her hands and face, rinsing off a week’s worth of dust and dirt.
Corina felt someone watching her. She glanced up into the face of a young boy about six years of age. The first thing Corina noticed about the boy was that he was clean. The second thing she noticed, which rather explained the first, was that he was white. The clean, white boy stared at Corina curiously.
“What’s your name?” he asked, when he saw Corina watching him.
“Clara,” Corina answered after a moment’s consideration. Even though Chloe and John now knew the truth, they still called her Clara, so it was best to stay consistent.
“Mine’s Walter,” said the boy.
“Hello, Walter,” Corina said politely. Who was this strange Walter? He didn’t seem to care that Corina was a slave; he barely seemed to notice. Corina looked at him closely. He was impeccably dressed in a white shirt, brown trousers and brown leather shoes. His face and hands, as previously noted, were clean, but his trousers had fresh grass stains and his hair was mussed.
“Why are you so dirty?” asked Walter. “The slaves who take care of me in the house aren’t dirty.” So he did know she was a slave. Corina looked down at her ragged dress and muddy hands self-consciously.
“I don’t live in the house,” she answered, defensively. “I work in the fields.”
“Oh.” He nodded as if he understood, but Corina did not think he really did. Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when he asked, “Why don’t you take a bath?”
Corina thought for a moment and decided on the simple truth: “I don’t have a place to take one.”
Walter considered this, then shrugged it off and tried a new tack. “You don’t talk like a slave.”
“You don’t talk like a master,” Corina retorted shortly. She did not like the direction this conversation was taking.
“I’m not your master, Papa is,” Walter explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Corina blinked. So this was the master’s son? “Your papa might not like it if he saw you talking to me.” She was not sure why she said it, but it was the truth.
“Why not?” Walter wanted to know. Corina was not sure what to say to this, so she answered truthfully again.
“I don’t know. He just wouldn’t.”
Walter was not convinced. “My papa’s real nice. He gives me presents.”
“What kind of presents?” Corina inquired, hoping to lead Walter onto safer ground.
“One time he gave me a hunting dog. He says when I’m older I’ll go hunting with him. His name’s Pointer,” Walter boasted proudly.
“That’s cool.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, I mean that’s…that’s good.” Corina smacked herself mentally.
“Oh. Yes, I guess it is. Papa goes hunting a lot. An’ he rides around the farm and looks at things. He’s not at home a lot.”
“My papa works a lot, too,” said Corina, glancing distractedly at the sun beginning to sink below the trees. Corina looked around for an escape route. Maybe if she threw a stone into the bushes, he would go after it?
Corina hurriedly finished washing and dried herself with her dress as Walter prattled on about something else. Corina nodded complacently and broke in, “Uh, Walter, I’m sorry, but I have to go now. It was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” Walter repeated immediately, his good breeding kicking in instinctively. He held out his hand to Corina. She shook it bemusedly and waved as Walter scampered back into the bushes and out of sight.
Corina hurried back to the cabin, much to Chloe’s relief. “I was beginnin’ to wonder if you’d fell in,” she remarked. “Go see ‘Liza, she’s got someting for you.”
Eliza tied a green ribbon around Corina’s head. “It matches your dress,” she told Corina, smiling.
“What’s happening?” Corina asked, her curiosity piqued by the special preparations.
“You’ll see,” said Eliza with a mysterious wink. She tied a pink ribbon around her own hair to match her dress. Chloe had pinned a blue ribbon onto her cap.
“Come on,” urged Ben from the doorway where he was waiting impatiently. “We’re gonna be late! Ain’t you wimmin ready yet?”
“Hold your horses, we’s comin’,” said Chloe, bustling to the door. “All right, lead de way, Ben.”
They walked from the cabin across the fields toward the mansion. They stopped at the door of an old, unused barn. Warm light issued from the open doorway in the gathering darkness. Loud talking and laughing could be heard from within, as well as the music of a fiddle or two. Corina eagerly followed Ben inside.
The spacious floor of the barn was strewn with hay, and bales of hay stood around the edges and in the rafters. Lanterns sat on the floor and hung from the beams, filling the room with cheerful yellow light. Two fiddlers stood on hay bales in one corner, striking up a merry tune. Some people stood along the walls talking and laughing with one another, but most were in the centre, dancing raucously to the music. Eliza was immediately heralded by a group of young girls standing near the door. John led Connor over to some of the men and began talking. Chloe was summoned by a friend of hers who wanted some cooking advice for another friend. This left Corina and Ben to stand next to one another, feeling awkward.
As one tune ended and another began, the couples on the floor changed partners, and Ben glanced sideways at Corina, who stared unabashedly back. “Oh, come on, den, dance wi’ me if you gonna keep starin’ like that,” Ben said grudgingly, gingerly taking Corina by the wrist and pulling her onto the floor. Corina giggled; she could not help it. The lively music had lifted her out of her exhaustion and set her feet to tapping and her mouth to grinning. It was a bit awkward at first, but soon enough she and Ben stopped trying to dance properly and just galloped around the room with the other children, dodging the taller folks, chasing each other, shouting and laughing.
At one point Corina caught sight of Eliza dancing with a young man. Corina stopped in her tracks and Ben nearly crashed into her. “Isn’t that the man who”?” Corina started to ask, pointing. In her surprise and confusion she failed to complete her sentence, but Ben followed her gaze and caught her meaning.
“Yes, he’s de one what beat ole Aunt Hannah near to dead,” he said bitterly. “His name’s Aaron, an’ Eliza’s near as much in love wid him as wid de missus.”
“But…why?” Corina spluttered. It was not so much the sight of Eliza with Aaron that startled her, as much as the joy and love that were obvious in Aaron’s face as he gazed at his partner. The image rose in Corina’s mind of that same face, hard and without feeling, and the sound of the whip as it cracked in his hand.
“Why she in love wid him? Don’ ask me,” said Ben derisively. “He ain’t no proper black man if he goin’ round beatin’ his brudders an’ sisters like dat. He tink he’s white, dat’s his problem.”
“It’s her as tinks she’s white,” one of the other boys interjected indignantly. “She go prancin’ round up dere at de house all day, servin’ coffee and beggin’ favors. Dey’s a good match, I says.”
“My sister ain’t do no prancin’,” Ben retorted angrily, gesturing threateningly with his fist. “You ain’t got no right to say dat.”
“I gonna say whatever I please, an’ you ain’t gonna stop me no how,” the other boy responded stoutly. “Your sister ain’t gotta try too hard to act white, you know dat. She’s half white by blood. She couldn’t be one of us no matter what she did.”
Corina squealed along with several other little girls in the vicinity when Ben leaped at his opponent and they began rolling on the ground, punching and kicking at each other as the dancers jumped out of the way.
The brawl had not gone on for long before two brawny arms reached down and pulled the boys apart roughly. John held the other boy at arm’s length and brought his face down into Ben’s. “Benjamin, what you tink you doin’, fightin’ at a barn dance? You’s a disgrace,” he scolded him sharply.
Benjamin sported a cut lip, and his left eye was beginning to swell. Panting from the scuffle, he glared up at his father sullenly, his brown eyes bright. “He was insultin’ Eliza,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to his feet.
“You’s makin’ your sister ashamed, fightin’ over her like dat,” said John. Corina glanced over her shoulder at Eliza. She had stopped dancing and stood watching the scene in confusion. Aaron stood behind her with his hands around her waist. Corina caught his eye and stared at him stonily. He frowned slightly at her challenging gaze. His eyes widened in recognition, and he gave her a guilty smile. Corina frowned thoughtfully and turned away.
The dance progressed without further hindrance, until the moon was high overhead and the stars filled the sky. They bathed the fields in silvery light as Connor, Corina and their hosts made their way back to the cabins at the night’s close. As he and Corina skipped ahead, Ben stopped and glanced back at Eliza where she walked hand in hand with Aaron. He looked as if he wanted to make some remark, but Corina distracted him. Tonight’s peace was too precious to spoil with quarrelling.
Go Down, Moses by Luna_Lover
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you so much to my wonderful beta, Emma! Please drop me a line with your thoughts.