Escape Into the Night (7 page)

W
ith quick angry steps Caleb headed away from the river. Libby hurried behind, trying to keep up. But Caleb’s long strides kept her running.

In the street around them, teams of horses pulled heavily laden wagons. Caleb darted between them, seeming not to notice the danger. When they reached a building with tall pillars, he finally stopped.

“Where are we?” Libby asked.

“The courthouse for Saint Louis County,” Caleb answered, his voice short with anger.

Wide steps led up to great wooden doors. As more and more people moved into the area, Libby’s gaze was drawn toward the top of the steps.

A man stood there wearing a long, expensive coat that protected him against the sharp wind. Looking out over the people, he seemed to swagger, as though taking pleasure in the size of the crowd.

In front of the steps was another white man who stood like a guard over a tall, strong-looking black boy. The boy waited with head bowed, as though staring at the ground.

Libby turned toward Caleb. “What have you brought me to?”

Caleb’s gaze met hers. “A slave auction.”

“A slave auction? Pa won’t like that one bit.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Caleb asked, and she knew he was daring her.

Seconds later, Caleb looked away, as though he’d forgotten Libby. Instead, he seemed to watch the tall black boy.

Even from this distance, Libby could tell that his short-sleeved shirt and cotton pants were new.
It’s just like I said. Well cared for, that’s what he is
.

Wanting to continue their argument, Libby faced Caleb. “See his clothes?”

Her words made Caleb even more angry. “They cleaned him up to sell him!” he muttered close to her ear. “Gave him new clothes to bring a better price!”

Again Caleb grabbed her hand. When he pulled Libby through the crowd, she had no choice but to follow. Finally Caleb could not get around any more of the men waiting for the auction. Yet from where Caleb stopped Libby heard the guard talking to the young slave.

“They call you Jordan, boy? You’re too uppity for my taste! Don’t you forget for one minute who you are! You is
property
!”

The guard pushed the boy forward. “Hear me now? Keep your eyes on your feet, or they’ll think you run every chance you get!”

As Jordan started up the steps, he moved slowly, as if dreading what lay ahead. Libby stood on her tiptoes. Inside she felt torn—wanting to see, yet not wanting to see.

In spite of his strong appearance, Jordan seemed to have trouble walking. One at a time, he swung his feet wide with an awkward movement. Partway up the stairs, he stumbled.

The man in the long coat called down to him. “Hurry, boy! Get up here!”

Moments later, Jordan reached the top of the steps. Only then did Libby see that his feet were bare, even on this cold day. She also saw why he swung his feet wide and stumbled.

Around his right ankle was a heavy steel band. Another band circled his left ankle. Between the leg-irons stretched a chain.

Libby gasped. Caleb turned to her, a warning in his eyes. Quickly Libby covered her mouth, trying to hide her dismay. Yet when she looked back, the chain was still there. The leg-irons were still in place. She could not wish them away.

As the man on the steps raised his arm, the crowd grew quiet. Libby no longer needed to be told what was happening. The well-dressed man was the auctioneer.

“We got a boy here you’ll all want to own,” he started out.

The young slave stood straight and tall with shoulders back. Yet his face looked blank. His head bowed, he stared down at the steps.

With every onlooker turned his way, the auctioneer seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting. “Turn around, boy!” he commanded.

Boy?
Libby asked herself.
Or young man?
She had thought Jordan was fifteen or sixteen—a bit older than Caleb. Now she wasn’t sure.

As Jordan turned, the chain on his leg-irons clanked. When he faced the front again, he stared out beyond the crowd, as though he did not see the people.

Watching him, Libby felt strangely moved.
He’s like royalty
. The thought surprised her. How could a young black seem like a king?

Suddenly a lump filled Libby’s throat. She looked away, not wanting to see someone only a few years older than her being sold.

Caleb’s low, angry voice reached her ear. “You better watch. You better know what you’re talking about.”

“Real property this one is!” The auctioneer’s voice called a warning, as if reminding the slave of his place.

Instantly the young man bowed his head. Once again he stared at the steps.

“Able to do a man’s work, I tell you. Give this boy the hardest labor you got, and he’ll do it.”

The crowd laughed.

“This here boy will do a man’s work and work a man’s day. But you won’t have to feed him as much as a man. Show ’em your muscle, boy!”

Reaching out, the auctioneer pinched Jordan’s arm. “Hear me now? Show ’em your strength!”

As though disliking the command, the young black lifted his arm slowly. When he flexed his muscle, the crowd roared its approval. Yet Jordan’s face held no expression.

“Good healthy slave too.” With one quick movement the auctioneer stuck his finger in the boy’s mouth. Running the finger around inside Jordan’s lips, he asked, “See his teeth?”

Jordan swallowed hard. For one second his resentful eyes flicked toward the auctioneer. Then Jordan’s face again went blank.

Sudden nausea swept through Libby. Just watching the auctioneer, she gagged, wanting to vomit.

“What am I bid for this fine piece of property?” he sang out.

Libby gasped, filled with the awfulness of it.

But Caleb spoke in her ear. “Hush!”

Instead, a great river of grief washed over Libby. Tears welled up, blurring her vision. Turning away, she bowed her head, unable to watch.

This time Caleb touched her arm in warning. “Don’t make a scene!” His whisper sounded kinder now.

Libby closed her eyes, unable to watch. But she could not shut out the sound of the bidding.

“Five hundred!”

“Six hundred!”

From close by, a man called out, “Eight hundred!”

Surprised by the two-hundred-dollar raise, Libby opened her eyes. The man in front of her led the bidding. His back was turned toward her, but somehow he seemed familiar.

“One thousand!” called another man, and a murmur passed through the crowd.

A white-haired gentleman had given that bid. Suddenly Libby hoped that Jordan would go to him.
Maybe he’d be kinder
, Libby told herself, then wondered where the thought came from.

“Twelve hundred!” shouted the man in front of Libby.

Gold covered the handle on his cane, and Libby felt sure it wasn’t used for walking. Short in height and slender around the waist, the man wore a suit of finely woven, expensive-looking cloth. Yet there was something about his back—

“Oh no!” Caleb muttered, as though he’d heard Libby’s thoughts. “Old man Riggs!” Even the name seemed to fill Caleb with dread.

“Who’s Riggs?” Libby asked.

“A slave trader. He makes big money buying slaves and selling them to other people.”

As Caleb spoke, the man turned enough to show Libby the side of his face. In that moment she knew who he was—the man she had watched in front of the store.

For one instant he glanced around. As Libby looked into his cold blue eyes, she had no doubt that Riggs was the cruelest man she had ever seen.

“Thirteen hundred!” the white-haired gentleman called out.

“One thousand, five hundred!” Riggs answered.

A ripple of sound passed through the crowd. Everyone knew that fifteen hundred dollars was a lot of money.

“Top dollar for someone Jordan’s age,” Caleb whispered.

The auctioneer looked toward the white-haired gentleman, who shook his head, and withdrew from the bidding.

“Fifteen hundred once.” The auctioneer paused. “Fifteen hundred twice.” Again he paused. “Sold for one thousand, five hundred dollars!”

Again a murmur moved through the crowd. Jordan had become an unusual piece of property.

As the slave started down the steps, Caleb again pushed forward. But Libby stood like stone, still upset by all she had seen.

“Hurry up!” Caleb prodded, and she came to life.

Moving quickly, Caleb worked his way around the rest of the onlookers. When he reached the courthouse steps, he slowed down. Then Caleb looked as if he had nothing important to do.

The change in Caleb made Libby curious. What was this
strange boy planning? Whatever it was, Caleb wouldn’t explain. She’d have to find out for herself.

When Jordan and his guard reached the bottom of the steps, Caleb was close by.

Jordan’s new owner, Riggs, was even closer. “Over here, boy!” Even his voice sounded mean.

As the slave and his owner stood next to each other, Libby felt a jolt of surprise. Jordan was more than a head taller.

If he was aware of the difference in height, Jordan did not show it. Nor did he forget himself long enough to glance up. Instead, he stared at his bare feet.

Riggs looked Jordan up and down, then growled a warning. “No slave ever got away from me! Alive, that is!”

In Jordan’s cheek a muscle twitched. No other sign showed that he had heard the trader’s threat.

For a minute longer Riggs looked him over. Then, as if satisfied that Jordan understood, the trader turned away. Leaving Jordan under the care of the guard, Riggs walked over to pay for his new slave.

With his gaze on the trader’s back, Caleb edged closer to Jordan. Libby followed. By the time Caleb stood next to the young black, Libby was right behind, where she could watch both of them.

Strangely, Caleb still looked as carefree as if he were out for a Sunday stroll. Hands in the pockets of his jacket, he seemed to be watching the people pass up and down the courthouse steps. But the moment someone spoke to Jordan’s guard, Caleb leaned close to Jordan.

“Alton,” he whispered in Jordan’s ear. “Tomorrow night. The
Christina
.”

As though no words had passed between them, Jordan did not look at Caleb. Only a slight nod of his head told Libby that he had heard.

Again Caleb edged forward. This time he stopped just ahead and to one side of Jordan. In the dirt Caleb’s foot moved quickly, spelling out letters—C–H–R–I–S.…

In that instant Riggs turned around. When he started back to Jordan, Caleb did not look down. Instead, he shuffled his feet just enough to wipe out the letters.

By the time Riggs reached Jordan, Caleb had slipped into the crowd. Libby followed close behind. Not until they were a block from the courthouse did Caleb slow down enough for her to speak.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

But Caleb only told her, “If you ever need to know, you’ll find out.”

CHAPTER 7