Chapter Thirteen
The Railroad
Crickets!
From deep in the blackness he heard crickets. He could feel Rosa turning in response to his touch, but he could not see her in the darkness. Slowly his eyes adjusted. He could vaguely make out her silhouette.
It was warm and humid. A mosquito buzzed close by his left ear. It didn't matter that Cameron couldn't be sure if the air was filled with simulated mosquitoes or if it was just a sound effect like the one Sam used to wake him months earlier. Instinctively, he pulled his hand from Rosa's shoulder and swatted at the unseen pest.
"Cameron, is that you?"
Another mosquito, or perhaps it was the same one, now buzzed his right ear. "Geez, Rosa, where did you bring us?"
She gave Cameron a hug. "I didn't see you at the exhibition. It's so good to see you! I knew you'd get me."
"Good to see you too, Rosa." He swatted at another mosquito. "Now where on earth did you get us?"
"Rochester, New York. It's 1859."
Cameron tried to figure the significance of the time and place. Nothing came to mind.
The night air was suddenly filled with the noise of horse's hooves and wagon wheels.
Rosa and Cameron turned toward the sound of the wagon. They could see lights through the trees. Cameron realized that they were standing in a wooded area. They could hear voices as the driver of the wagon brought the team of horses to a halt. Rosa took Cameron's hand and led him towards the light.
When they reached the tree line, they could see the back of a white, clapboard house. There was a barn, or stable, between them and the house.
"Do you know whose house that is?"
Cameron still couldn't figure why they were in Rochester, New York. Only one thing came to mind, "Could Mr. Eastman live there?"
"George Eastman? The inventor of the Kodak camera?"
Cameron nodded.
Rosa smiled and patted him on the cheek. "Good try, Cheese Boy, but George Eastman is just a child at this time." The back door of the house swung open. "Look!"
A black man with long hair came out the rear door of the house. He was nicely dressed, in a coat and bow tie. He saw the delivery wagon loaded with barrels and called out, "Moses? Moses, is that you?"
"Yes," answered a female voice.
The man went back inside, then returned with a lantern. He descended from the large summer porch to greet the two people on the wagon.
"Do you know whose house this is now?"
Cameron was without a clue.
"That's Frederick Douglass!"
The name opened a floodgate of knowledge. Cameron remembered the man from his study of the American Civil War. The pictures Cameron had seen of him were all of an old man with long white hair and a grizzled full beard. Frederick Douglass was an escaped slave, Cameron recalled. Largely self-taught, he was made an apprentice at a shipbuilding yard in Baltimore, Maryland. One day, he disguised himself as a sailor and escaped to New England by ship. He became famous as an antislavery speaker, giving talks about his life as a slave.
He became such a good speaker, some people didn't believe that he was really a runaway slave. To prove that he was, he wrote his autobiography in which he told everything about his life, including the name of his former master. Then, he fled to England to avoid recapture.
Two years after his flight, his new British friends raised the money to buy his freedom. This made it possible for Douglass to return to his home in America.
Upon his return, he became the publisher of a newspaper for blacks that championed political action to abolish slavery and women's rights. He was an advisor to Abraham Lincoln during the Civil War and lobbied for the use of black troops in the Union Army. His sons were among the first recruits.
Douglass helped a black woman down from the wagon and motioned the man to pull the wagon over to the outbuilding. The woman was small, and, even at this distance, Cameron could see that she was missing her upper front teeth. Douglass and the woman trailed the wagon to the barn. They seemed to be probing the darkness about them.
Rosa and Cameron gave each other a questioning look as if to ask, "What are they afraid of?" Cameron sensed that perhaps he and Rosa should remain hidden in the trees. He knew that Rosa had come to the same conclusion. Silently, they watched as the wagon halted by the barn door, not more than fifty feet away from their hiding place.
The driver stood and scanned the area cautiously. He stepped over the seat, into the bed of the wagon where there were at least twelve large oak barrels. Mr. Douglass handed the lantern up to the man on the wagon, who set it upon one of the rear barrels. His hand went to his side and he slid a broad-bladed knife from its sheath. The blade glinted in the lamplight.
Rosa started to gasp, but Cameron quickly put a hand over her mouth. "Nothing will happen!" whispered Cameron. "Remember? Frederick Douglass lives until 1895, when he dies a natural death." He could feel Rosa's body relax and turned his attention to the strange scene unfolding by Frederick Douglass' barn.
"Go ahead. It's safe," said the woman. The man on the wagon nodded. He began using his knife to pry open one of the barrels in the second row from the rear. In a moment, the lid popped open. The man reached in and pulled out a small dark bundle and laid it across his arms. When he handed the parcel down to Frederick Douglass, Cameron was amazed to discover that the bundle was a small black girl. He was even more amazed to see that she was asleep. There was a broad smile on Douglass' face as he handed the girl to the woman who had answered to the name of Moses. The woman started to carry her precious cargo to the barn.
Back on the wagon, a little boy was climbing out of the very same barrel from which the girl had been extracted. The man proceeded to pry open another. One by one, the barrels were opened, and their contents removed. All told, sixteen black men, women, and children were freed from their tiny hiding places. Stiff and wobbly from their cramped confinement, they made their way into the barn.
"Tomorrow they will be safe in Canada," said Douglass.
"It is a wonderful thing you're doing Miss Tubman."
"And a dangerous thing for a man in your position, Mr. Douglass."
"There is no risk not worth taking in the name of freedom. I will not rest until the day that no man is the master of another, and all men are masters of their own destiny!"
A chill ran up Cameron's spine.
"Malik created this segment," said Rosa. "I didn't know what to expect." Cameron looked at her. A streak of moisture glistened upon her cheek in the moonlight.
Cameron leaned over tentatively, hesitated, then gave Rosa a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the birthday present."
Rosa's eyes glistened with tears in the virtual moonlight as she reached out, took Cameron's hand in hers, and laid the other upon the pendant hanging from the chain around her neck. She smiled, closed her eyes, and softly said, "Home."
(Chapters 14-17)
