Freewater: Prologue–Chapter 18

Down the muddy hillside she slid to a single tall tree. She climbed it, hopping from one craggy branch to the next, higher and higher.

Tales had spread among the swamp island children like herself about what lay in plantation lands: two-headed
 men, turtles without shells, and skeletons that rose from the dead.

As Sanzi contemplated that danger, she took a walnut-shaped stone from her sack, placed it in the well of her sling, and spun it overhead.

There was water nearby—Mama had told us about it. If you don't see me come back, get to the river, she'd said.
I didn't take much heed of her instructions at the time.

The water pushed us downriver into a churning fall. Over we went, and down under again.

"What you reckon is gonna happen now?" she asked.

I'd go a full day without anyone or anything even knowing I'd been there. Fetching milk, brushing horses, tending the flower garden, getting eggs, all of it done without so much as a moo from a cow or a cluck from a chicken, or anyone saying my name.

I was nowhere, I was nothing. When I did it right, I felt safer. But the swamp didn't abide by my rules. This swamp saw me.

When Ada was small, she was always wandering into trouble. Ada's foot stuck in a ditch, her hair caught in nettles, or she was lost in the forest.

As overseer of Southerland Plantation, Stokes prided himself on three things: driving enslaved souls in the fields until they could hardly stand from exhaustion, his instincts for knowing when one would run off, and training dogs to hunt and return those runaways to Southerland.

Only the river churning and the dogs' murmuring pants could be heard as they went left then right, moving back and forth, meticulously covering the forest ground, thirsty for a scent.

Shoes kept you from thorny branches, snakebites, and all sorts. Plenty folks had tried running off but most were found and brought back. But Two Shoes had made it, and we all figured it was on account of his shoes.

Between the chirping and swamp raucous, there was barking.

Grunting, he pulled the arrow from the dead snake, rubbed the bloody point on his pant leg, and placed it in his quiver.

Another flame flew overhead, lighting a dead tree, sending up plumes of black smoke that scratched our noses.

Instead, he came down from that tree, tied his long, locked hair in a knot, pulled a small ax from his pouch, and started cutting a path through the plants, heading deeper into the tangled thicket.

"Then you best follow me," said the man, and he went right back to his hacking.

"It's when no one can see me," Homer said. Anna stared at him, her brow furrowed in confusion before stating the obvious.
"Homer, I can see you."

After trudging through the swamp for much of the day, I felt sweat soaked through my shirt.

About twenty yards from the house, the squat, odd-shaped structure had tendrils of smoke coming from its open window and door.

Old age had hunched her over. She shook flour from her apron, wiped sweat from her deep brown brow, rubbed her cataract-filled eyes, and coughed into the fresh air.

Nora pulled a gingham dress from her wardrobe and tugged it on.

She'd pulled him to the library and motioned for him to show her. He'd obliged and shown her a drawing in one of his books.

The image was so exact that some might have considered it a talisman, a unique mark for a unique person.

Rose was ordered to wean little Homer and directed to care for Baby Nora.

Mrs. Crumb lamented about Nora's ways and reasoned that books had taken her daughter's voice, because Nora never had words to speak.

Spilled flour, melted butter, and eggshells littered the table and floor. Nora shook her head. Rose would be livid at the sight.

A floral scent of roses wafted from it.

Dried flowers, picked off the ground by Rose, lined the walls of her small domicile.

During the night, when bad dreams or loneliness became particularly intolerable, Nora would come to Rose's room.

Where was Rose? To her further dismay, when she came out of Rose's room, Anna was in the kitchen sweeping up flour. Hot embarrassment came over Nora for having been caught in Rose's room.

Rivulets of blood streaked across her back.

"There's bound to be all sorts of fine places to live in the North. We could find one for all of us."

Not wanting to be heard, Nora backed away from the cabin and caught wind of bickering coming from Stokes's shed.

She wrapped them each in an old sock and as Rick and Ron were commandeering a long knife, Nora stealthily placed a meat-filled sock in the bottom of each of their packs.

She wrapped them each in an old sock and as Rick and Ron were commandeering a long knife, Nora stealthily placed a meat-filled sock in the bottom of each of their packs.

Knives acquired, Rick and Ron strapped their heavy loads to their backs.

Ada got tired or bored and started to tarry, hanging back a little longer and not following as close.

From studying Old Joe, I knew how to shear a sheep of all its hair, change a horseshoe, prune roses, and more.

“Ain't no way I'm going back in that wretched swamp again," said Rick, scratching his bug bites.