Free Belle by Beverly Jenkins

you?”
    Belle answered affirmatively even though the pain of her father’s fate still hung like weights on her heart and she didn’t feel much like talking. She gestured Mrs. Best to a seat in one of the old stuffed chairs. Belle sat on the bed.
    Silence slipped between them for a short while, then Mrs. Best said quietly, “You know, Belle, when my mother was sold, I didn’t think the hurt would ever go away.”
    Belle looked up and met her kind brown eyes. “And did it?”
    Mrs. Best shook her head. “No, but as time passed, I learned to manage it, as will you.”
    Belle bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. How would she live without her father? Mrs. Best said softly, “Something like this leaves a hole in your heart that will always be there.”
    Belle understood that. Her heart did feel wounded, and it was bleeding tears.
    Mrs. Best then said, “Fugitives all over this nation have walked the path you’re on. Like us, they’ve lost parents. Some, their children. Facing freedom alone can be hard, but we survive. We have to, otherwise all the sacrifices made by those who came before us would be in vain.”
    Belle’s tears were running freely down her cheeks.
    “Belle, I know you’re without family, but we’d be honored if you’d consider us your surrogate one. You’re welcome here for as long as you wish.”
    Belle wondered what she’d done to deserve such special people in her life. “Thank you, Mrs. Best.”
    Mrs. Best took a clean handkerchief from the side pocket of her day gown and handed it to Belle. Belle wiped at her tears and blew her nose. She said finally, “Never knew one body could hold so many tears.”
    Mrs. Best smiled sadly. “It’s a natural thing. No one will hold it against you if you cry for two months. Lord knows, I did.”
    “What was it like for you coming North?”
    “Scary, strange—different. I’d never been in a place that had a real winter until I came North. Had no idea snow was so cold.”
    Belle gave her a watery smile.
    “Then there was all the different types of people. I’d heard about free folks but had never met any, so when I got to Boston and learned there was a large community that dated back to before the Revolutionary War, I was speechless.”
    “I’d never met any free folks before coming here either.”
    “Then we have a lot in common, you and I.”
    “I suppose we do.”
    Belle looked into Mrs. Best’s eyes and then asked, “Is it okay if I’m a bit scared of the future?”
    “Yep.”
    “You said you were afraid when you first came.”
    “I was. Still am in many ways.”
    Belle hadn’t expected that. “You don’t seem afraid.”
    “I am, though. Afraid slavery will never end, and we’ll have to live the rest of our lives fending off slave catchers. Michigan, like other states here in the North, has passed Personal Liberty Laws to protect folks like you and me against the horrid mandates of the Fugitive Slave Act, but they could be voided at any time depending on the political winds.”
    “I wish there’d been a law to protect my father.”
    “So do I.”
    “I know everyone did all they could to find him.”
    “Doesn’t dull the hurt though, does it?”
    Belle shook her head. “No, it doesn’t.”
    Mrs. Best came over and took a seat beside Belle. “You’re safe here. My family is now your family and we’ll do whatever it takes to make certain you are as successful as you can be.”
    Belle still didn’t understand such generosity. “But why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”
    “Sure I do. You’re me, and every other soul who came North to find freedom. We must help each other if we are all to move forward.”
    Belle thought on that for a moment and decided that when she got the chance she, too would lend someone a helping hand.
    Mrs. Best said, “It would be foolish to ask if this talk made you feel you better, because I know no amount of words can ease the hurt of losing your father, but I do hope I’ve set