A Light to My Path

  “There’s nearly a hundred of us and only the overseer to stop us,” one of them said. “Why wait any longer? Let’s escape now.”

  But Grady remembered Anna’s warning and passed it along. “It’s too risky. We can never tell for sure where the Confederates are. They move all up and down this stretch of low country, guarding the railroad. They know this area. And they have lookouts watching. The only way we can safely get past the Confederate lines is if the Yankees attack and the Confederates all head off to stop them.”

  “Even then, we’d need boats to get to the Sea Islands where the Yanks are,” someone added.

  “Unless the Yankees come to the mainland,” Grady said. “I hear that the Yanks sometimes come ashore to help slaves escape—and they’re not returning us to our owners.”

  Plotting with the others buoyed Grady’s hopes. They pooled all of their knowledge, gathering information about the land routes and waterways. Before the harvest was over, they had formulated a plan. All they needed was the right opportunity, when the Rebel soldiers were distracted, to put their plan into action. Grady was certain he would know when that golden moment had arrived.

  One cold fall afternoon, while Grady was checking one of the mules for a sprain, he heard an unfamiliar sound. He paused to listen, gradually recognizing it as the sound of marching feet. He jogged to the edge of the pasture to peer through the trees and saw thousands of Confederate soldiers hurrying down the road past the Fuller Plantation. Grady had watched Massa Fuller drilling new recruits in Beaufort, and he knew that these men were marching on the double-quick. He’d never seen so many soldiers this close to the plantation before—probably two or three thousand of them—and he wondered what it meant. Before the dust cloud had a chance to settle again, Lewis came hurrying down to the barn from the Big House.

  “Missy’s needing a wagon and team of mules, right away,” he said.

  “What’s going on?” Grady asked. “Did them soldiers say anything when they came by?”

  “They said the Yankees are coming. Whole bunch of them landed at McKay’s Point. The soldiers told Missus Fuller she better get out. They’re all in an uproar up at the Big House and fixing to run.”

  “Where’s she going? With the soldiers?”

  “No, the soldiers are heading toward Pocotaligo and she’s going to her daddy’s plantation on the Edisto River. Wants a wagon right away.”

  Grady felt the sudden panic as if it was contagious. But his concern was for Delia and Anna, not Missus Fuller. “She’s leaving now? Today? What about Delia and Anna? Are they going with her?”

  “Missus Fuller never said who’s going. She only told all of us to help load the wagon so she can leave first thing in the morning. Don’t know nothing else. She says to leave the wagon up by the house so she can pack everything, and bring the mules back first thing in the morning.”

  It was only after Lewis left that Grady suddenly realized what all this meant. He glanced around the barn to make certain Mr. Browning wasn’t around, then whispered to his fellow slaves, “This is it! This is the chance we’ve been waiting for! We can all be free!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “The Yankees have landed here on the mainland at McKay’s Point. All the Rebels are heading to Pocotaligo to stop them. We’ll be able to circle to the south and get past the Rebel lines. Browning can’t chase all of us, especially if we split up into groups and go in different directions, the way we planned. Once we get to McKay’s Point we’ll be free. The Yankees won’t return us to our owners.”

  “We gonna have to act soon, I reckon.”

  “Yes. Tonight when the moon sets,” Grady said. “Start spreading the word to all the others.”

  “What about bringing Missus Fuller her wagon?”

  “Let me do it,” Grady said. “I need to talk to my wife and Delia.”

  Grady parked the wagon in the yard outside the rear door and waited, delaying as long as he dared, hoping that one of the women would come out to talk to him. At last the door opened and Anna and Delia came out of the house together. As much as he longed for Anna’s embrace, he stayed away from her, unwilling to risk Missy Claire’s anger if she happened to look out the window and see them together. But there was no harm if Delia hugged him, and her embrace was as welcome as a warm fire on a cold day.

  “Lord, Lord, honey! I hardly recognized you,” she said. “You driving Missy Claire’s wagon for her tomorrow?”

  He shook his head. “I’m all through with being a slave,” he said quietly. “Me and the others gonna steal away to the woods tonight. Once we get to where the Yankees are, we’ll all be free.”

  “You can’t run away, Grady!” Anna cried. “They’ll send the dogs out after you if you run!”

  Her fear made him angry. “Who will? Ain’t nobody left to chase us but the overseer. He can’t catch all of us, can he?” He folded his arms across his chest and raised his chin in defiance to show her he was unafraid, that they had nothing to fear. “You don’t have to go with Missy Claire, you know. She can’t make you go with her.”

  “What do you mean? She’s our missy. We have to do what Missy says.”

  “No you don’t,” he said in a low, harsh voice. “We don’t have to do nothing she says no more, now that the Yankees are here. Y’all can come hide in the woods with us tonight … unless you think house slaves is too good to run off with field hands.”

  “Nobody’s thinking that,” Delia said.

  “Then come with us,” he urged.

  Anna gazed into the distance as if trying to make up her mind. “Missy says the Yankees ain’t our friends,” she said after a moment. “She says they gonna have their way with all the women and—”

  “Don’t you know them white folks is lying?” Grady felt desperate to convince her, but he didn’t know how.

  “Missy Claire don’t lie! I been with her just as long as I can remember, and she—”

  “Go on with your fancy white missy, then, if you want to be her slave so bad.” He spat on the ground near his feet, frustrated by her blindness, and sick with anger and fear. What if she wouldn’t come with him?

  Delia stood beside the wagon, not saying a word. But they all looked up a moment later when one of the upstairs windows slid open with a loud scrape. Missy Claire leaned out of it.

  “Kitty! Get back up here this instant!” Anna turned and ran straight into the house. Grady felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach.

  “How can I convince her to come with me, Delia?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, honey.”

  “But you’re coming with me, right?” He gripped Delia’s slender shoulders, desperate to convince at least one of the women he loved to join him.

  “Let me think on it awhile,” she said. “I’ll meet you later, when Missus Fuller ain’t looking out the window. I’ll be in the cemetery by my daughter’s grave after dark. Can you meet me?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Fuller Plantation, South Carolina

  November 1862

  As soon as it was dark, Grady crept out of his cabin and hurried through the trees to the slave cemetery to talk to Delia. Mr. Browning often patrolled the plantation grounds at night, armed with his rifle, and Grady hoped that the overseer wasn’t patrolling tonight. As word of the planned escape had spread, everyone on Slave Row had been trying to act normal, trying to pretend that tomorrow was just another workday. But Grady noticed the extra tension and excitement in the air as everyone waited for the moon to set, waited to be free. He wondered if Mr. Browning had noticed. The overseer had several sets of shackles in his toolshed. He could easily chain up all the leading men for the night, to prevent them from running.

  The cemetery was very dark, shaded by a grove of oak trees. Grady saw Delia standing in the fenced-in yard beside the little grave. He hoped that she had come to her daughter’s grave to say good-bye before she escaped with him. Grady had spent all afternoon trying
to figure out a way to convince Delia and Anna to leave with him tonight. If there was ever a time when he wished he could pray, this was it. He went to Delia and stood beside her, waiting for her to speak first.

  “You got yourself a good plan?” she asked. “Did you take your time and think everything through? I know you heard plenty of stories about all the other slaves who’ve tried running. You know all the things that can go wrong and what will happen if they catch you?”

  “I know the risks,” Grady replied. “Me and the others have been talking about this and planning it ever since we came here from Beaufort. Tonight’s our chance, Delia. We can do it. We’re gonna be free.”

  “Inside your heart is where you’re free,” she said softly. “And that only happens when you know the Lord. If your sins are forgiven and you’re His child, then you’re free. If not, then even if you make it over to the Yankee side, you still ain’t gonna be free.”

  Grady struggled to control his impatience, unwilling to argue with Delia. “We’re waiting until the moon sets,” he said. “Are you and Anna coming with us?”

  Delia gazed down at the grave without answering. In the long silence that followed, Grady was aware of the sighing wind, the rustle of Spanish moss in the branches overhead, the murmur of insects.

  “I don’t come here to this grave to be sad,” Delia finally said. “I come here to find hope. I know that my baby has gone on to a better life.”

  Grady stifled a groan. She was going to start talking about the Lord and how they’d all have a better life in heaven someday. He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted a better life now. “Can we talk about heaven some other time, Delia?” he asked as gently as he could.

  “I don’t mean heaven, honey. If you was to dig up this grave, know what you’d find in that pine box?” She smiled up at him and her eyes filled with tears. “Rocks—ain’t nothing inside it but rocks.”

  “Rocks?” he repeated.

  “That’s what I said, ain’t it? My baby girl ain’t buried in this here ground.”

  “Well, where’s she buried, then?”

  “She ain’t dead, Grady. She’s gone free.”

  “You ain’t making sense, Delia.”

  “Remember how I told you that her daddy was a white man? How she’s just as light-skinned as you are? Well, one day when my baby was five years old, I met some real kind Quaker folks who were visiting down here from the state of Pennsylvania. They offered to take my little girl up north with them, so she wouldn’t have to be a slave no more. Said they’d adopt her as their very own daughter and everything. So I let her go.”

  Tears spilled down Delia’s face, and for a long moment she couldn’t speak. Grady wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. They stood side by side, looking at the grave in silence.

  “They dressed my baby all up in pretty little white girls’ clothes,” Delia said when she could continue, “and they drove away with her one night. I told everybody that my baby took sick, and then I let on like she died. Had a funeral for her and everything. But she’s gone north, honey. She’s free.”

  Grady remembered how he’d been torn from his mother against her will, and he marveled at the strength of Delia’s love to let her child go. “You set her free,” he said softly.

  “Hardest thing I ever done, because I loved that girl like my own life. This here is the second hardest—saying good-bye to you.

  I guess you know how much I love you, too.”

  Grady looked down at her and nodded, barely able to speak. “Come with me, Delia. Please.”

  “No,” she said simply. “No, honey, I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? We’ll both be free, just like your daughter. Maybe we can go up north and find her. All we have to do is cross the Rebel lines. You know I’ll take good care of you. I’ll carry you on my back if I have to. Please, Delia. I can’t leave you behind.”

  “Well, you’re just gonna have to, because I ain’t going. I prayed about it, and the Lord told me I still got work to do for Him right here.” She freed herself from his embrace and abruptly walked away.

  “Wait … Where are you going?”

  “I have something to give you before you go,” she called over her shoulder. “Come down to the cabin with me and I’ll show you.” She walked so briskly that Grady had to hurry to keep up with her.

  He drew a deep breath as he stepped into the cabin they’d shared for so many years, as if he could inhale all the memories they’d shared, as well, and store them inside. He’d only been back once since Missus Fuller sent him to Slave Row. Now he gazed around at the familiar rooms, remembering his first day on this plantation—how Delia had pulled him into her arms and allowed him to cry.

  “I can’t leave you, Delia,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

  “Yes, you can, honey. Here … these are for you.” She handed him a pile of folded clothing with a hat lying on top. “I borrowed some of Massa Fuller’s clothes from his bureau up in the Big House.” Grady recognized the tailored suit and starched white shirt that Massa sometimes wore to church on Sundays.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Massa ain’t needing them, right now,” she said. “I know you’re taller and bigger through the shoulders than he is, but they’ll do. When my daughter put on white girls’ clothes she fooled everybody. You put these on, and I know you can pass for a white man if nobody’s looking too close. Keep Massa’s hat on your head so they don’t see your hair. Them Rebels ain’t never gonna know you’re a runaway slave. You’ll be free, honey.”

  Grady couldn’t imagine it. He was certain that for the rest of his life he would always be looking over his shoulder, always expecting to be caught and dragged back and whipped. He longed to know what it would be like to walk down the street, a free man. But he was not at all certain that he wanted to pose as a white man—the very race he hated—in order to do it.

  “There’s just one favor I want to ask when you go,” she said.

  “Anything, Delia.”

  “Take Kitty with you.”

  “Anna? But she said this afternoon that she was afraid to run.”

  “I know. That poor child can’t make up her mind what to do. I know it ain’t none of my business, but she loves you, Grady. Whether you love her or not, take her with you.”

  “I do love her,” he said softly. He was surprised to admit it. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her behind, maybe never seeing her again. He longed for both of them to be free so they finally could be husband and wife. “I’ll gladly take her—but how do I convince her to come?”

  Delia sighed. “I’m going up to the Big House now, to take care of Massa’s baby. I’m gonna send your wife back down here. Show her you love her, Grady. Give yourself to her tonight. I know you always been afraid to love her, afraid you’ll lose her like you lost everybody else, but the white folks can never keep you apart once the two of you are free. And it don’t matter if she has your baby now, because he’ll be free, too. If you give Kitty your love tonight, I know she’ll make up her mind to go with you when the moon sets.”

  Grady pulled Delia into his arms and held her tightly, bracing himself for another loss. He wondered if he would ever see this beloved little woman again, or hold her in his arms. When he pulled back to look at her face one last time, they both were crying. “I wish you’d come with us, Delia.”

  “I’ll never stop praying for you, honey. Not for a single day. Not as long as I have breath in this old body.”

  Delia wept as she walked away from Grady and hurried across the yard to the Big House. O Lord, this was hard! Just as hard as that day, more than thirty years ago, when she had let her baby go. Now Delia was saying good-bye to two more of her children, because that’s just what Grady and Kitty were to her—beloved children. But they weren’t hers to hang on to, any more than her first daughter had been. They belonged to the Lord, and she had to leave them in His hands.

  She hoped she had done the right thing in tell
ing Grady to sleep with Kitty tonight. She hoped it would change Kitty’s mind. Surely she would go with him once she saw how much Grady loved her, wouldn’t she? Kitty did love him—Delia was certain of that. And he loved her—as much as that poor boy would allow himself to love anybody.

  Delia longed to keep Grady here, keep both of them here. But Grady’s anger was growing more dangerous every day. If he didn’t get his freedom soon, if one more tragedy happened to him, his rage was going to explode, destroying him and anyone who got in his way. As much as Delia hated losing him, she knew that his wounds would never heal until he was free. And there was more hope for that healing to take place if he had Kitty in his life. In time, she could help soften all of his hatred with love and tenderness. Otherwise, letting Grady escape alone would be like turning a caged animal loose, bent on revenge.

  “Lord, take care of them,” she prayed. “They’re in your hands.”

  Delia thought of her real daughter, still remembering her as the five-year-old child she had said good-bye to, so long ago. But her baby would be all grown up by now. She was probably a mother herself. It was hard to imagine, but she would be as old as Massa Roger was. They’d been born only a month apart. The hardest thing was not knowing, never hearing from her baby or knowing for certain that she was all right. Delia would probably never know what became of Grady and Kitty, either, after she let them go.

  O Lord, this was so hard.

  Delia dried her tears before she went inside the Big House so that Kitty wouldn’t see them. She slowly climbed the stairs to the nursery where Kitty was holding baby Richard in her arms, humming softly as she rocked him to sleep.

  “You make up your mind about going with the others tonight?” Delia asked her.

  Kitty nodded. “I thought it all over like you said, Delia—all the way back to the beginning. But no matter how much I want to be with Grady in the end, the story just ain’t gonna end up like that. I ran off once before with my mama and papa, and … and it ended …” She couldn’t finish. “I’m scared, Delia. I’m just so scared.”