47 by Walter Mosley

Author:Walter Mosley [Mosley, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: JUV016140
ISBN: 9781417771813
Google: Vkw-YgEACAAJ
Amazon: 0316016357
Publisher: Turtleback
Published: 2006-11-15T19:45:56+00:00

14.

Sunlight glittering through the leaves roused me. I sat up, rubbed the sand out of my eyes, and realized that I was alone. Looking around for my friend I saw that there was a young doe at the edge of the empty space created by the tree. Timidly it looked at me. It was equally afraid and curious and so moved forward and back, keeping its place but at the same time still ready to flee. A mother deer emerged from the bushes then. She cast a wary eye on me and then nuzzled her little fawn. Instantly the young deer calmed down. I could see that there was a berry bush where the two stood. They were eating the sweet fruit and so dared the danger that I represented.

Even though I was afraid of being alone and scared of what Tobias would do when he caught me, I was still enthralled by those deer. I wondered what it would have been like if my mother, Psalma, had lived. Would she have stood over me, protecting me while we ate sweet berries?

While I lamented the loss of my mother Tall John strode into view. Not the tiny orange and violet John with flames above his head but the colored slave boy with the skinny chest and coppery skin. I wondered then if my dream was real. He stepped in between the mother and child, stroking their flanks and saying something I couldn't hear. They pressed their snouts against him in a friendly way and then went back to eating. John then turned toward me.

In his right hand he carried the napkin that Flore had wrapped my cookies with. He held the big handkerchief by the corners like it was a sack.

“Good morning, Forty-seven,” he said upon reaching me. “Did you sleep well?”

“They gonna kill us, Numbah Twelve,” I replied.

“Would you like to flee to the north?” he asked.

“I ain't jokin' wit' you, fool.”

“I'm not telling a joke,” he said. “If you wish we can head north right now. By day after tomorrow we'll be in a place that doesn't have slavery and doesn't return slaves.”

“Ain't no sucha place,” I said.

“There are many lands that don't have slaves, Forty-seven. Canada, Vermont.”

I could tell that he was serious, that he was willing, with no more than a shrug and a nod, to take me away from all the chains and chiggers and cotton. All I had to do was say yes and the misery of my daily existence would have fallen away.

“What you got in that napkin?” I asked him.

“I went back to my bag in the tree and got a chemical that will kill the virus in Eloise's brain. I also collected various fungi that will carry the serum through her blood.”

“So if we run away she'll die?”

“Probably.”

“But if we wait and run away later can we take Flore and Champ and Mud Albert with us?”

“No,” John said. “Only you.”

If I ran Miss Eloise would die, and my friends would remain slaves no matter what I did.

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