Free Glory Over Everything by Kathleen Grissom Page B

tight to Randall’s hand and hope he don’t understand what they say about his brother.
    Just when I’m thinking of making a run for it, Skinner grabs us both by the neck and pushes us into a room at back of a small barn. They lock us in, and when the wagon thumps away, the two of them are still cussin’ at each other.
    â€œNow can you write to your man?” Randall asks when he sits down beside me on the dirt floor.
    â€œI don’t have no paper,” I say.
    â€œBut you got to write to him to get us outta here,” he says, his voice high and the next thing to crying.
    â€œShhhh,” I say, looking back over my shoulder, “somebody might be listenin’.”
    He looks ’round and moves closer to me, but after a coughing fit, he quiets down. Then, as though he’s got nothin’ left in him, he lays down and puts his head in my lap. “My head’s hurtin’,” he says, “an’ I’s cold.”
    â€œYou sleep some while I figure this out,” I say, and I rub across his bony little shoulders and wonder why he says he’s cold when he feels so hot. I wait till he’s sleepin’ before I move, careful not to wake him. Then I go over to the window and try jumpin’ up, but it’s too high, and besides, it got some boards across it. I try the door, but it’s locked tight, like I figured. I kick at it some until I hurt my foot, and when I limp around I start crying. Finally, I go back and sit next to Randall, ’cause he’s coughin’ so bad and shakin’ in his sleep.
    T HAT NIGHT S KINNER shows up with the driver and another man. I jump up as soon as they come in the door, and it don’t take a minute before Randall is up beside me and got a hold of me. “What they gon’ do?” he asks me.
    â€œShhh,” I say, trying to see past the lantern that Skinner holds up.
    â€œThey’s both scrawny!” says the new one.
    â€œGive me three hundred,” says Skinner, “and you can have ’em both.”
    â€œThomas doesn’t take ’em when they’re that small. Too much trouble. I’ll give you one hundred for the older one.”
    â€œAnd give me twenty for the runt. You know you can sell him on the way down,” Skinner says. “He’ll bring you twice that.”
    â€œDeal,” says the man, and when he comes over with the rope, I step back and Randall moves with me.
    â€œIf I give you my money, can he stay with me?” I ask.
    â€œLet me see how much you got,” the man says.
    I unfold the rag that holds my coins, and with a swipe he pockets it. “And now you don’t have none,” he says with a laugh.
    â€œBut that’s stealin’!” I say before I can stop myself.
    He laughs again. “Sounds to me like you got some educatin’. You one of those mamby-pamby house boys? Won’t take long for Thomas to work that outta you!”
    â€œCan Randall please stay with—” I start, and before I can duck, the man sends his fist at me.
    â€œI don’t wanna hear nothin’ from you after this,” he says.
    When I spit out blood, a tooth comes, too, and Randall starts screamin, but I don’t shush him ’cause I’m cryin’ too hard myself.

PART TWO

CHAPTER NINE
1830
James
    O N MY RETURN from the event, Robert had the outdoor lamps burning when my carriage drew up to the house, and as usual, he was waiting for me at the front door.
    â€œThere is a fire in the library,” he said as he took my greatcoat and hat.
    â€œAny news of Pan?” I asked.
    â€œNo, I’m afraid not,” he said, and without further comment, I went to the library, craving the solitude.
    â€œSomething hot to drink?” he called after me.
    â€œGo to bed, Robert,” I said, closing the door behind me.
    It was past midnight. I went to the familiar chair next to the fire and sank into its worn leather, sighing