The little girl said, “I like my name. Can I keep it?”
“Yes, baby, that would be fine,” the new Lynne, who I figured was the mother of the two, told her. “Hush now.”
Silas nodded as he ate. “I know all those names. Easy to remember.”
Missus Dillingham glanced at her husband and then Silas.
“There’s no need,” Mr. Dillingham said. “You won’t be going with them.”
“What? I come all this way with her.” Silas swung his head toward me. “Why can’t I go with her now?”
“Henry, it would be difficult for three negro men on a carriage to go unnoticed. We think it’s better for you to continue with me.”
“How you figure that?”
“We will be just a day behind. That way we can help if there are problems. And we can continue the ruse that you began—you’ll still be traveling with a white man.”
I put a hand on Silas’s arm. “I see what he means.”
“You do?”
“Yes. If someone comes looking for us, it would be as a man and woman. If someone recognizes you or they guess I was dressed as a man, Mr. Dillingham can vouch for you, and they would see only a mistake on their part.
“And the folks at the Holloway Plantation never knew my real name. On paper it will all make sense. We’re all going to the same place, Philadelphia. It’ll be fine. Like Mr. Dillingham said, you’ll be just a day behind.”
When we were done, Mr. Dillingham took the men upstairs to discuss the route. Lynne put the children to bed behind one of the panels and came out to help me and Missus Dillingham clear the table.
“That man your husband?” Lynne asked.
I shook my head. “He a friend. Been looking out for me.”
“Jean”—she paused and slowly recalled the other names—“is my husband. Cal is my brother.” She motioned toward the panel. “My children.”
I nodded.
“You afraid?”
“A little.” I looked at Missus Dillingham. “But we have help. And we’re going all together. It’s not so scary that way.”
The next morning we started even earlier than before. Mr. Dillingham thought since the carriage had arrived in the dark, it should leave in the dark. We decided Jean and Cal together should sit out at the top and drive. Lynne and the children would be in the carriage with me, but I would sit by the window again. Though they weren’t hidden exactly, they had to stay out of sight as much as possible. Before I got in, Silas took me off to the side. “You got that pistol?”
“Yes, it’s right here.” I touched a pocket of my travel dress.
“Good. Don’t be scared to use it if you have to.”
“I won’t be scared.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll be seeing you in Philadelphia then.”
“Yes.”
“I heard Mr. Dillingham say you might go to school.”
“I might. Don’t know what’s gonna happen. We’ve got to get there first.”
“All right.”
“All right.”
“You be careful.”
He seemed to be waiting for something. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just hugged him. “Goodbye, Silas.”
“Bye.”
When I climbed into the carriage, I was thinking it did feel like goodbye, like I might not see him again. The next part of my journey was beginning, and I was with the people I was supposed to be with even though I wasn’t sure about where I was going—not just on a map but within myself.
The thing about this leg of our journey—it wasn’t that long. Seemed the amount of time it took to get from the Burkes to the Dillinghams was longer. When we stopped in Havre de Grace in Maryland to water the horses and Jean said we were more than halfway there, I wondered what all the fuss was about. I looked out the window, and it seemed like a nice little town, not far from the water. I figured from its name that it was a kind of port town, and it was busy that way.
While I was looking out, I noticed a baking shop with lots of pretty little cakes in the window.
“Come with me, Lynne,” I said. “I want to buy us some treats for the rest of our way.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’ll be all right. It’s just here on the street.”
I opened the door and helped her out.
“Jean, we’ll be just a minute,” I said. “Look after Jeremiah and Fanny.”
He glanced around and nodded. Cal was on the other side of the horses, and he nodded also.
When I walked in the store, the delicious scent of sugar and dough nearly brought me to tears. Aunt Nancy Lynne’s kitchen had smelled like this on the nights we’d done her baking. I thought of how much she might enjoy having a little shop like this of her own. But then I gathered myself and selected some small cakes with icing. The woman put them in a box, and I paid for them with Aunt Nancy Lynne’s money. I gave the box to Lynne, and she followed me out of the store. I was stunned to see, just that fast, there was a white man standing very close to Jean and speaking to him. Cal was already up on the driving seat and looked ready to bolt if necessary.
“Jean!” I called out, keeping my voice nice and light. “We’re all ready. Please help Lynne get my cakes in the carriage. I don’t want them to be a mess of crumbs when we get to Papa’s.”
He moved quickly and did what I said.
I looked at the white man. A sense of something that felt like Madame—yes, Madame—came up within me. I knew at once how to look and what to say.
“I’m sorry, I don’t usually speak to men to whom I haven’t been properly introduced. Was my man causing a problem?”
He looked flustered. He took off his hat and opened his mouth to say something, but then a deep, huge voice boomed out.
“Tolins!”
The voice belonged to a tall, round-bellied man wearing pants with suspenders and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up on his thick arms. He was wiping his hands on a cloth, and I realized he worked in one of the shops across the street. He walked slowly up to the man Tolins.
“I hope you’re not interfering with this nice lady and her property.” He put his hands on his hips. “Are you now?”
Tolins stepped back. “Not at all.”
“Ma’am,” the stranger said, “this here one of those abolitionists. They like to stir things up.”
“I see.”
“You go on your way. Don’t mind him.”
I curtsied to the stranger. “Thank you kindly, sir. I am much obliged.”
Jean came round and opened the door and helped me into the carriage. I thought about giving Tolins a sign of some sort to let him know we were on the same side. I couldn’t think of anything to do, but then I thought better of it. I didn’t know what would happen between Tolins and the man after we left. The encounter helped me see more clearly the dangers of the route. I had been foolish.
Lynne’s hands were shaking. I took the box of cakes from her. I had planned on giving the children the cakes in the carriage, but it would be better to wait until we were safe in Philadelphia. I took Lynne’s hands in both my own.
“We’re all right,” I said once we were on the road again.