Steinmann Will

1. Auflage 2018
ISBN: 978-1-941478-61-5
Verlag: Windy City Publishers
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 394 Seiten

Will and his friend are risking their lives and have escaped the plantation. They are on the run; but before Will took off, the old conjure woman warned him, 'Evil spirits creeps 'round at night, and tricky spirits kin hex people-even da smart ones likes you.' Evil spirits are not the only problem; slave hunters, patrollers, and a mercenary detective are all after Will and Tom, and his childhood companion, Teeny. Luckily, the three friends encounter a group of abolitionists-a lawyer, a riverboat captain, a businessman, and a wealthy heiress-who want nothing more than to help them escape to freedom. But slaves are valuable property, and owners will go to any lengths to get them back. What transpires for these three slaves borders on the implausible, but is rooted in historical fact. They all flee in different directions and make their way north by steamboat on the Mississippi and Missouri rivers. This harrowing journey involves wearing disguises, finding new love, and risking a fortune in a poker game. But the real gamble is a slave betting he can escape and be free...he pays the ultimate price if he loses.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Steinmann, Paul

Leseproben

IN LATE SEPTEMBER A CAGED wagon carrying Teeny and five other slaves rumbled into the Memphis auction house. Teeny was quickly ushered to a holding pen along with three other female slaves. The next day a burly patroller walked her to a small platform. It was almost noon. Everyone was surprised to see a fair skinned octoroon being bid on at auction. The auctioneer began his sales pitch.

“Look what we have here gentlemen! Is she a fancy girl, or a slave? This beautiful woman is a first-rate house servant who has cooking and sewing skills. She worked on the finest Plantation in Mississippi, Mary Dale, and as you can see she is ready for breeding.” Teeny was humiliated. Her blouse had been opened so that her breasts were exposed. The auctioneer lifted her skirt with his cane, and ordered her to turn. The men gawked and whistled.

From the back of the crowd a bid-runner made his way to the platform. He handed a note to the auctioneer. Angry shouts rang out when the auctioneer ordered Teeny to step down. A cotton sheet was thrown over her shoulders, and a burly patroller escorted her to a waiting carriage.

A well-dressed man wearing round spectacles stepped down to greet her. His straw-colored hair, white shirt, and clean-shaven face, presented a stark contrast to the patroller’s full beard, rumpled plaid shirt, and wide brimmed hat. Richard Walther held out a clean, manicured hand to assist his new slave mistress. He dismissed the patroller and said, “Do you remember me? My name is Richard Walther.”

“Yes, sah, I knows who ya be. Ya vis’ted Mary Dale.”

“We will be traveling to St. Louis by riverboat and are leaving in a few hours. Get in the carriage.” Teeny stepped into the carriage and sat on the bench opposite Walther. She did not look up when he spoke; she was wary of making eye contact.

“Have you ever been to a large city?”

“Yes, sah, I been to Na Orlans wid Mastah an Missus Douglas.”

“Did you enjoy your time in the city?”

“Doan know much ‘bout en’joyin life in da city, we wuz only dere a few….”

Walther interrupted her in mid-sentence. “Enough! I know from my time at Mary Dale that you read and can speak proper English. This charade of yours is annoying me.”

Teeny made eye contact. She examined his square face, protruding ears, and blue eyes. His demeanor was harsh and demanding. She responded, “My people feel uncomfortable when I speak the way you do.”

Walther scoffed, “Your people? Who are your people?”

Teeny wasn’t sure how to answer the question. She didn’t know her mother; she knew Jeff Owens was her father but he had nothing to do with her. She fought back tears as she stared out the carriage window. Walther ended the discussion with a curt warning. “Speak proper English when you are with me.”

Outside the carriage two large steamboats came into view. Walther pulled out a small package from under his seat. “Here is a towel and clean clothes; there’s a traveling bag for you on the back of the carriage. After you change we will board the Silver Cloud. Carry yourself as if you belong in my company—walk erect, don’t stare at the ground.”

Teeny removed her torn top and tattered skirt, then slipped into the beige dress and brown leather shoes. The shoes were several sizes too large, and she wondered how she would maneuver in them. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, and used the towel to wipe the dust from her face and arms. Teeny emerged from the carriage and stood in line with Walther to board the riverboat, then followed him across the gangplank, head up and shoulders back.

Walther handed one of the crew a few coins and instructed him to escort Teeny to her stateroom. She followed the young man up the circular stairs and looked down a long elaborate passageway. The grandeur spread out before her was unexpected—carved columns led to ceilings covered with Gothic decor and stained glass windows. The floor was covered with thick carpet, and the sparkling chandeliers above dangled copious amounts of cut glass.

“This way, ma’am. The ladies’ cabins are toward the back,” called the steward.

Teeny thought about the fact a total stranger was treating her as though she belonged in a “white only” environment. They came to a door with an engraved number on a brass plate. The young man placed her bag inside. “There you go, ma’am, pull that cord over in the corner if you need someone to assist you. The women’s facility is located two doors down. I hope you enjoy your trip.”

Teeny ran her hand on the bed surface, delighted to discover a cotton mattress covered with clean white sheets. A mahogany dresser stood next to the bed. Another door led to the promenade deck. Beneath a small window a washbowl, pitcher of water, soap, and several folded towels neatly adorned a small hutch. She shook her head in disbelief. Two hours earlier she had been locked in a filthy slave pen.

A noise outside drew her toward the window. Passengers waved, a calliope played, and a low moaning sound filled the air. Teeny walked to the promenade deck and surveyed the scene. Soot and sparks whirled upward from the tall stacks, and a band on shore played Hail Columbia. Down below, crew-members scurried to arrange cargo and guide deck passengers to roped off areas where they could cook and sleep.

Amidst all this activity was a line of slaves, six men and four women, linked together by leg irons and chains. The soul-driver prodded them with a stick toward a small stockade near the stern. Scared and looking disoriented, each clutched a cloth bundle containing a few belongings. Teeny looked away and silently retreated to her cabin.

She lay on the bed thinking about her new owner. Judging by the lines around his eyes he was at least forty, maybe older. He was demanding and arrogant. A gentle tapping on the stateroom door interrupted these thoughts. She assumed it would be him, but it was the young steward who had escorted her to the cabin. A covered tray lay balanced on his upright arm.

“Doctor Walther thought you would prefer to eat in your room rather than deal with the commotion in the saloon. I’ll put your dinner here on the dresser. There’s also a carafe of water, but I can get something from the bar if you like.”

“Water will be fine, thank you.” Before he left she said, “How long does it take to get to St. Louis?”

“Usually three days, ma’am. Depends on the number of sand bars we got to dodge—river’s a little low this time of year.” Teeny thanked him. He nodded politely, and gently closed the stateroom door.

Beneath the tray cover was a china plate covered with slices of roast beef, boiled potatoes, green beans, and buttered bread. A piece of heavily frosted cake sat along side. Teeny felt famished—she hadn’t eaten in two days. She quickly finished her meal and glanced at the traveling bag on the bed. Inside she found two dresses, shoes, a scarf, and something she had only seen Mary Douglas wear, silk undergarments. She wondered who packed the bag.

That evening she lay awake listening to the piano music drifting up from the saloon. The pianist was well into his second set when she heard a knock, and a note was slipped under the door. She turned up the kerosene lamp.

My profession has enabled me to become a man of some means. In addition to my city home, I own another property in the country. Because of your experience at Mary Dale, I believe you are quite capable of being the caretaker of this property.

There will also be responsibilities of a personal nature you will provide me. Tomorrow we will meet in the saloon for the evening meal. I will address questions you might have. Wear the light blue dress.

The following evening a waiter escorted Teeny to a table in the back of the saloon where she sat and waited. Richard emerged from the gentlemen’s area at the front. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, highly polished black shoes, and a starched white shirt. Diners nodded and greeted him as he made his way toward her. Before taking a seat he looked at Teeny and grinned. “I see the dress Izzy selected was a good choice.”

Teeny picked at her food and listened to Walther. He told her about his country property, a caretaker’s responsibilities, and what he expected from his mistress. When it seemed they had nothing more to discuss, Teeny folded her napkin, and placed it on the table. “I understand my responsibilities, and I will do my best. I appreciate the food and the room you have provided. I have not slept for several days and hope you will allow me to return to my cabin.”

Walther was startled by this mild rebuff and slowly rose to his feet. He looked around to see if anyone was listening. “You may go and rest. But...