Patience narrowed her eyes and said, “If I go without you, know this. There was no choice. Now, run.”
I splashed through runnels all the way to my dormitory. I knelt by my cot as was custom, crossed myself, prayed. As if she’d been waiting for me, Sister Joseph snuffed the candle on her table near the door the moment I arrived. I dressed in my night clothing, putting the gown over my petticoats and chemise so that later I could don the heavy skirt and short jacket. I changed my wet stockings for dry ones. I lay upon the cot, fighting the urge to sleep, curious at how I could close my eyes even in the midst of excitement. If Patey left without me, I would have only myself to depend upon. I would not wait, I vowed. After an escape they would watch for a while, but they would forget. They always did. Yet, perhaps I might do as well to stay and let the Sisters find me a husband. At least that would be a life. Two more years I shall be tied to the loom, two more years. What, I wondered, were the chances they would marry me to a man who would take me to Jamaica?
The midnight bell tolled. The room took on the quiet of resting souls and Sister Joseph snored peacefully. I dressed on my knees beside the cot, got on my shoes and tied my parcel of clothing. I looked toward Sister Joseph and bade her a silent farewell. I put up my hood, raised the wet blanket over my head, and pushed open the shutters at the farthest end of the building from her. It squeaked. I paused. The rain slowed. At last I stepped over the sill. Halfway to the kitchen, the sky opened and rain came as if it might never rain again.
I ran right into one of the yew trees; it was closer than I had imagined. I stopped to picture the place where the kitchen would be. I could just make out the shape of the other tree fifteen feet away. Not being able to see meant no one else could, either, safe in the cloak of rain. I neared the kitchen, raised the blanket, hoping for a familiar object. At once, a hand took my arm and fingers closed over my mouth, the blanket was held over my head and my whole person was quite lifted and moved. I fought mightily. I gave every effort to scream yet I was not able to make a sound.
In the midst of my struggling I heard a voice, a woman saying, “Resolute, be still. Keep quiet. Let her go, now. Not a sound, Ressie. It is I.”
“Patience! Who had me? That was not you. Why was I captured that way? I had almost reached the kitchen.”
“The others are eating. Plenty of people and food to keep everyone busy. We go.”
I turned at her last words and ran into a man. Tall and hard as an oak tree, he was the source of the leathery iron hands that had taken my mouth and held me just moments before. An Indian man. I let out a gasp and drew a breath to scream.
Patience shook my arm. “Ressie! Quiet. I told you, we are leaving.”
“Is he going to let us go? Is he here to capture us? Sell us again?”
“Run for the gate,” she said, took my hand and pulled. With her other hand she clasped the Indian man’s hand!
I stopped so suddenly I slipped from her grasp and the two of them nearly fell down in the mud. “Where is baby James?”
“He is better off here. Rachael will care for him. I cannot.”
“He is your baby.”
“You do not understand, I know, but he is better off here.”
“What if Rachael runs away and leaves him? Is there a foundling home?”
“Then he will be kept here. Come now, Resolute, or stay behind. I will not wait for you and have us all found out. It will go badly for everyone if Massapoquot is found to be helping us.”
This was not what I imagined. This was wrong. I had to turn back. I would let her go. If I went, I would never get home to Ma. I would marry some farmer I knew not, and bear children and grow old and die here in this frozen hell. “Baby James,” I said again. “We will go get him.”
“We cannot take a baby,” the Indian said, in perfect French. I was amazed for I expected the same halting words they used in English. “We travel hard and fast. You must come now or stay behind with the child. No other choice.”
“Ressie!” Patience shook my hand impatiently.
I could not see Patience for the downpour. “Are we going to Jamaica?” I asked.