The Journey of Little Charlie by Christopher Paul Curtis

Author:Christopher Paul Curtis [Paul Curtis, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2017-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

The cap’n tolt the Dee-troit sheriff, “We’s got reason to believe the young boy done took off to Canada. What can y’all tell me’s involved in running him down up there?”

The sheriff give a long whistle and said, “Sir, I wish y’all every possible bit of luck in getting him back; you sure gonna need it.”

“What you mean?”

“You gonna be fishing in a complete different pond once you go ’crost that river. Why, some of them white people ’crost there’s downright hostile to letting even one darky come back.

“And the runaways theyselves? Well, jus’ you wait and see. I’ve had folk from down home tell me there ain’t no words to describe what happen to them darkies once they get the notion that they’s free.

“I’d advise ’gainst going there, fellas; y’all’ll be a couple of fish out of water. You heard that ol’ joke, what do you call a Yankee in the middle of a South Carol-liney swamp?”

“What?”

“Gator food.”

The cap’n didn’t laugh.

The sheriff said, “You’ll be jus’ as outta place and jus’ as lost in Canada.”

The cap’n said, “I ’preciates what you saying, but my rep-a-tation’s at stake here, and I ain’t leaving till I seent for myself it’s impossible to get this boy.”

The sheriff said, “Well, gennel-men, one thing you gonna have to do if y’all insist on going through with this is … and I ain’t meaning to be indelicate, but y’all gonna have to do some … uh … sprucing up of yourselfs.”

I couldn’t believe the cap’n had the gumption to set there looking like he didn’t have no idea what the man was trying to say.

“What you mean?”

The sheriff said, “Well, sir, I knows y’all been on the trail for a long time and ain’t had the ’vantage of bathing. All I’m saying is, if you was to go over into Canada looking as you do at the moment, you might as well tie two signs ’round yourselfs. The one up front should say, ‘Slave-Catching A-mur-icans,’ and the one on your back don’t need no words at all; jus’ paint a bull’s-eye there.

“Even if you was to take off that slave-catcher badge, them Canadians would have you pegged ten seconds after y’all got off the ferry.”

The cap’n was starting to catch on to what the man was saying, and wasn’t finding it too pleasant. He jus’ stared.

“And I’m ’suming y’all came up here flush with cash, true?”

The cap’n said, “The only reason I’m listening to you is you’s from back home and been kind ’nough to holt on to them runaways for me. But this is getting a little more into my business than I’m comf-table with.”

The sheriff said, “Not at all, sir. All I’m looking to do is not have y’all run on into Canada and get your heads handed to y’all on a platter. If I’m treading where I shouldn’t be, I’m gonna beg your leave and hesh up right now.”

The cap’n thought on it for a second, give the sheriff a weak smile, and said, “I do ’pologize, sir.

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