THREE
Maggie and Abigail canned the last of the harvest. Half of the cans were placed on shelves lining the cellar wall.
The other half was kept in a crate. Maggie watched, fascinated, as Abigail moved some other crates stacked against the back wall, revealing a small door to a cache.
Abigail opened it and light spilled into the cavity.
Several blankets and random pieces of clothing were folded in the corner.
She added the small crate of canned goods inside.
Just as Abigail was closing the door, Maggie saw a small piece of writing on the cache wall. She put a hand to the door, stopping it from closing.
Fear thou not, for I am with thee. Yahweh. Shaddai. Rapha. Adonai. Elohim.
“What on earth—”
“Henry told thee that we have helped freedom seekers, yes? Well… this is it.”
“I don’t understand… We’re in your cellar.”
“That’s true. What all has thee heard about it?”
Maggie shrugged. “Just bits and pieces, over the years. Mainly exaggerated tales of dozens of slaves being stolen in the night by abolitionists.”
Her innocence brought a timid smile to Abigail’s lips. Sitting down on one of the crates, Abigail revealed the full extent of the Howards’ part in the Underground Railroad.
“Within the Society, slavery was considered to be morally unjust, as one of the primary beliefs was in human equality. Contrary to popular belief, though, not every Friend was involved with the Railroad. Some were only loosely involved. If too many became involved, the omnipresent risks rose higher. Higher for the runaway slaves than anyone else. There had been whispers of escaped slaves being seen near the community, but never confirmed. Just a mumbled comment here and there between neighbors. We had always found slavery to be abhorrent. But, having a family of our own, with Elijah just a small toddler at the time—the risk was too great…”
Abigail gestured for Maggie to sit before continuing.
“Every night, we prayed for the souls making their way to freedom and started to feel a nagging. It seemed to grow by the day. One night, Levi prayed aloud in frustration. ‘What is it that Thee wants of me, Lord? Do I not have Elijah’s safety to consider? My wife’s?
’ Guilt plagued him more so than anything.
I finally asked him what we gained in denying God.
My response shocked him. But I knew my husband’s heart.
We prayed and prayed until Levi opened his heart and surrendered.
‘Thy will be done, Lord. Use me and my family as Thee sees fit. Our life is naught without Thee,’” Tears filled Abigail’s eyes as she spoke from memory.
“Our answer came only a few days later. Joseph Brown, one of our neighbors, rode over close to dusk. He claimed one of his children had injured themselves and they needed healing. He left before I could ask any questions. Levi hitched up the wagon, certain that it must be serious. Elijah rode in the back—he couldn’t be left alone.
Joseph beckoned us to the barn once we arrived.
I remember thinking how dark it was. Only a single lantern lit the barn.
We were shocked when a young black man stepped out from the shadows.
His clothing was in tatters. He was young, maybe eleven or twelve.
There isn’t a word to describe the pain and terror in his eyes...
” Abigail stopped to wipe away a tear that slipped down her cheek.
Maggie squeezed her hands together to keep her own composure. Abigail was a vivid storyteller.
“Before we could say anything, Joseph revealed to us that he had joined the cause, offering sanctuary to those seeking emancipation. This young boy was the third to pass through his doors. But the boy’s arm needed to be set, and Joseph didn’t know how to properly do so.
Levi and I didn’t even discuss it, because he already knew, just as I did, that this is what God wanted from us.
We set the boy’s arm. I tried to make him as comfortable as I could and held his hand until he fell asleep after it was done.
I noticed he had an intriguing birthmark on top of his hand, shaped like a butterfly…
and it made me think of Elijah chasing butterflies in the garden, earlier that day.
Both children, but vastly different lives. ”
Abigail swallowed. “We didn’t speak to each other the entire ride back home— just internal reflection and prayer.
By the time Elijah awakened the next morning, Levi announced a family meeting.
We prayed as a family, seeking God’s guidance and protection in the days ahead.
The decision was made the moment we stepped into that barn and saw that boy.
No matter the consequences, we would shelter any person seeking freedom and safety. ”
When she was finished, Maggie had been left speechless.
Her own mother and father had said privately in their home that they disagreed with slavery.
Mama’s family near Charleston had hundreds of slaves on their plantation— it was one reason she left to marry Maggie’s father.
She just couldn’t see herself married to another plantation owner, destined to deal in human commodities.
Their small farm was worked only by Maggie’s father and brothers.
But they had never helped any slaves. Maggie recalled a time when slave catchers came to their door searching for a man.
Her father had answered the door and said they had not seen him.
It had been a lie—Hugh and Joel had come in from bringing water up from the creek that morning.
They had seen a tall black man there. When he spotted them, he bolted, disappearing into the undergrowth of the woods.
They hadn’t run after him. They had the mule to carry the buckets of water. But they simply just watched him disappear and came home to tell Papa.
Papa instructed them to do nothing. “He’ll find his own way.”
She never found out if he had.
Shame filled her. Had it been Levi or Abigail that spotted him, they would’ve stepped up to the plate as they had done here and offered shelter, food, clothing. Something. They wouldn’t have turned a blind eye as her father had.
“Did you write the scripture on the wall for them?” She asked.
“No. A guest did. When we shared our faith and discovered that they, too, believed, they wrote this the morning they departed. To encourage those who would also come.”
“When will you have another ‘guest’?”
Abigail shrugged. “There is no way of knowing. It could be tonight, tomorrow, or in three months. The last two we concealed were here months ago. As the war rages on and the battles draw near, it has made it harder to move them.” She stood and brushed off her skirt.
“We wait and see.” She placed the crates back carefully and they climbed the ladder, leaving the cellar and all its secrets behind for now.
A week later, Maggie was tidying the parlor when she spotted the unique basket again. It was the same one that’d caught her eye when Abigail brushed her hair.
She picked it up. It was surprisingly firm. The dried grass was woven tightly together.
“It is a beautiful piece, isn’t it?”
Startled, she jumped at Levi’s voice and nearly dropped it. She set it back down on the mantle, cheeks-tinged pink from being caught, and nodded. “A gift from you to Abigail?”
Shaking his head, Levi crossed the room and picked the basket up. “No, it was made by a guest. One of Abigail’s most prized possessions.” He pointed to a pattern woven into the basket. “Miraculous how just a bunch of dried grass can be turned into something like this.”
Maggie agreed. It took talent to see the potential. “This was made by a runaway slave?”
Levi looked up at her sharply. “Yes. Forgive me, I momentarily forgot that thee was aware. We have to be so careful, thee knows.”
Maggie did indeed understand. “Would you tell me about who made it?”
“If thee would like.” Levi gestured towards one of the armchairs.
When Maggie sat, Levi took the one across from her and told his own account of meeting the young boy with the broken arm. After that first encounter, they never saw the boy again. They began taking in escapees, hiding them in their cellar until it was safe to move them.
“Around a year after beginning our mission, a black woman and her daughter were entrusted to our care. Neither said much during the first few days of their arrival. Abigail tended them and made the child a small doll to play with. It was the first time Abigail had seen her smile. Abigail slowly earned their trust, and the woman revealed her name was Tugg. Never mentioning where exactly she had run from, she said that when her master passed, he’d willed her to one of his daughters, while her own daughter was to be left on the original plantation.
She’d already lost her son and wouldn’t lose another child. ”
Levi paused. “Thee knows Abigail— she has a gift at getting people to share their inner thoughts. Tugg’s son, Abram, escaped first. Alone.
She’d sent him away before their Master died and she learned her daughter’s fate.
It tormented her, not knowing what happened to him.
She said she saw him in her dreams and would etch ‘his mark’ in the dirt floor of the cellar.
Abigail turned white as a ghost when Tugg showed her.
Abigail had Tugg repeat a dozen times where he’d had that birthmark before she believed it was one and the same. It was the boy’s. A butterfly.”
Maggie furrowed her brow in confusion. “What boy?”
Levi smiled. “Tugg’s son was the young boy hidden at the Brown’s barn.
We were overjoyed at the realization. Tugg almost collapsed.
Abigail left no detail out when she told her of tending Abram’s arm, how she had noticed the unique birthmark right away.
We told her it was plausible that the next station she went to would’ve received Abram as well.
Tugg could trace his path and, with God’s mercy, be reunited with him in freedom. ”
“And did she?”
“We helped Tugg get to the next station as soon as it was deemed safe and prayed daily that they may both be safe and together as a family, once more. We didn’t think we would ever know whether our prayers had been answered, but they had.
” Levi pointed to the basket. “Sixteen months later, that arrived with a note. ‘Thank you. Together in freedom.”
Maggie trembled from the power of the story, in awe of the miracle that had unfolded.
“Abigail keeps the basket there on the mantle as our reminder— nothing is too insurmountable for God to overcome.”
Long after Levi had headed back to the fields, Maggie sat studying the basket and picturing Abram and his mother out there somewhere, finally able to be happy.