Free Freedom's Price by Michaela MacColl Page B

until she found what she was looking for. A moment later the smell of camphor filled the small cell. It was a particularly nasty medicine that Ma would apply to Eliza’s skin when she had a rash or a bug bite.
    Eliza opened her eyes to watch Ma pull out a little brush and begin painting the cell bars with the medicine.
    â€œWhat are you doing, Ma?” Eliza asked, yawning as if she had been awakened.
    If Ma was startled, she didn’t show it. She kept brushing, up and down and around the bars. “Never you mind, Eliza. Go back to sleep.”
    Eliza closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. Then Ma put on her nightdress and got into bed. For a long time, Eliza heard a faint murmuring. Ma was praying.
    Eliza wanted to sit up and say, Praying won’t help us if Pa puts himself in cholera’s way. But she held her tongue and bided her time. As soon as Ma fell asleep, Eliza was going to find Pa in the infirmary and tell him exactly what she thought.

    T he “infirmary” wasn’t much different from Eliza’s cell except that it was bigger and had four cots with proper sheets on them. The room was at the end of the hall, farthest fromthe noise of the street. A thick curtain hung in the doorway.
    It must be almost midnight by now. The jail was quiet except for Lucy’s moans. Eliza slid quietly up to the cell door and pulled the curtain aside. The room was ablaze with light from two lanterns. Pa sat on a wooden stool next to the bed, and he was washing Lucy’s face with a small towel. When he moved, his shadow flitted wildly across the white walls.
    Lucy started to vomit. Pa grabbed a bucket. Lucy threw up just a little thick liquid—she must not have anything left in her stomach. Eliza’s stomach roiled too, and she tasted a little sick in her mouth. She must have made a sound because Pa glanced behind him. His eyes went wide when he saw Eliza.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” he shouted. “Get out!”
    â€œPa, I need to talk to you,” Eliza said, and started to walk into the infirmary.
    â€œFor God’s sake, Eliza, stay away.”
    â€œIf it’s not safe for me, then it’s not safe for you.”
    Suddenly Eliza’s arm was grabbed so hard it almost jerked out of the socket. Her mother dragged Eliza out the door.
    â€œMa, you’re hurting me.”
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” Ma demanded.
    â€œI wanted to tell Pa that he shouldn’t nurse Lucy. Cholera is too dangerous.”
    She stared defiantly, daring Ma to lie.
    Ma loosened her hold. “How do you know about the cholera?”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me?” Eliza shot back.
    â€œYou’re a child. Your pa and I will decide what you need to know.” She pointed down the hall, and Eliza marched back to the cell, with her mother right behind her. Ma pushed Eliza in and carefully closed the door. Eliza frowned as Ma pulled a key from her pocket and locked the door.
    â€œBut we never lock the door!” Eliza protested.
    â€œWe do tonight,” her mother snapped. “You are going to stay put until morning. We don’t have time to worry about you.”
    â€œMa!” Eliza rattled the cell door. The smell of camphor set her eyes to watering. “Ma, let me out.” The fading sound of her mother’s footsteps was her only answer.

C HAPTER Eleven
    A CLANG OF METAL ON METAL WOKE E LIZA WITH A START . P A stood in the cell’s open doorway looking as though he hadn’t slept at all. Lizzie was curled up against Eliza’s back, but Ma was nowhere to be seen.
    â€œGood morning, Eliza,” Pa said.
    â€œWhere’s Ma?” she asked. Moving gingerly away from Lizzie, Eliza got to her feet, her back stiff from the thin straw bed. She peered behind Pa in the dim light. “She locked me in!”
    â€œNow, Eliza, your ma only did what I would have done,” her father warned. “You should never have been in the