The Good Lord Bird

We bid leave of him and headed toward the woods. When we reached them, Bob stopped. “Little brother,” he said, “I got to cut you loose here. I’d like to go, but I’m getting shaky. Being that Old John Brown has chopped off eyeballs and heads and all, I don’t think I can make it. I’m fond of my head, since it do cover the top of my body. Plus, I got a family and can’t leave ’em just yet, not unless they has safe passage. Good luck, for you is going to need it. Stay a girl and go with it till the Old Man’s dead. Don’t worry ’bout old Nigger Bob here. I’ll catch up to you later.”

Well, I couldn’t assure him of nothing about whether or not the Old Man would take his head or be deadened, but there weren’t nothing to do but take my leave of him. I followed old Herbert’s directions, walking through the tall pines and thickets. A short while later, I recognized a piece of the rock wall—that was the same wall the Old Man had leaned on to follow the map when he first kidnapped me, but the camp was gone. I followed that wall along till I seen smoke from a fire. I went behind the wall, on the far side, intending to go behind the Old Man and holler at him and his men so they’d recognize me. I made a wide circle, snaking through trees and thickets, and after I was sure I was far back off ’em, I rose up, stepped behind a wide oak, and sat down to gather myself. I didn’t know what kind of excuse I would cook up for ’em and needed time to think of one. Before I knew it, I fell asleep, for all that trekking and running around in the woods got me exhausted.

When I woke, the first thing I saw was a pair of worn boots with several toes sticking out of them. I knowed them toes, for just two days previous, I’d seen Fred throw a needle and thread at them things as we set by the fire salting peanuts. From where I lay, them toes was looking none too friendly.

I looked up into the barrel of two seven-shooters, and behind Frederick was Owen and several more of the Old Man’s army, and none was looking too happy.

“Where’s Pa’s horse?” Fred asked.

* * *

Well, they brung me to the Old Man and it was like I hadn’t gone no place. The Old Man greeted me like I had just come back from an errand to the general store. He didn’t mention the missing horse, me running off, or none of them things. Old Brown never cared about the details of his army. I seen fellers walk off from his army one day, stay away a year, and a year later walk back into his camp and set down by the fire and eat like they had just come back from hunting that morning, and the Old Man wouldn’t say a word. His abolitionist Pottawatomie Rifles was all volunteers. They came and went just as they pleased. In fact, the Old Man never gave orders unless they was in a firefight. Mostly he’d say, “I’m going this way,” and his sons would say, “Me too,” and the rest would say, “Me too,” and off they went. But as far as giving orders and checking attendance and all, the abolitionist army was a come-one, come-all outfit.

He was standing over a campfire in his shirtsleeves, roasting a pig, when I walked up. He glanced up and seen me.

“Evening, Onion,” he said. “You hungry?”

I allowed that I was, and he nodded and said, “Come hither and chat whilst I roast this pig. Afterward, you can join me in praying to our Redeemer to give thanks for our great victory to free your people.” Then he added, “Half your people, since on account of your fair complexion, I reckon you is one half white or thereabouts. Which in and of itself, makes this world even more treacherous for you, sweet dear Onion, for you has to fight within yourself and outside yourself, too, being half a loaf on one side and half the other. Don’t worry. The Lord don’t have no contention with your condition, for Luke twelve, five says, ‘Take not the breast of not just thine own mother into thy hand, but of both thy parents.’”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, course, but figured I’d better explain about his horse. “Captain,” I said. “I got scared and run and lost your horse.”

“You ain’t the only one that run.” He shrugged, working that pig expertly. “There’s several ’round here who’s shy to putting God’s philosophy into action.” He glanced around at the men, several of whom looked away, embarrassed.