THE STORY SO FAR…JOSIAH, A YOUNG 12 YEAR OLD SLAVE ON A VIRGINIA PLANATAION, NOTICES THAT AN OLD MAN NAMED MOSE KEEPS LEAVING THE SLAVE QUARTERS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. HE FOLLOWED MOSE ON NIGHT TO HIS SECRET WORKSHOP IN THE WOODS AND DISCOVERED HIS PLAN TO BUILD A FLYING MACHINE. MOSE TAKES HIM ON AS A HELPER AND AFTER A SERIES OF MISHAPS—THE FLIER TUMBLES DOWN THE MOUNTAIN AND IS SERIOUSLY DAMAGED, THEY ARE ATTACKED BY SNAKES, MOUNTAIN LIONS LURK EVERYWHERE, THE THREAT THAT SOMEONE WILL DISCOVER THEIR PLAN AND THEIR HORROR WHEN THEY REALIZE SOMEONE HAS BEEN SPYING ON THEM—THEY ARE FINALLY READY TO MAKE THEIR MAGICAL FLIGHT TO FREEDOM.
“The midnight sky and the silent stars have been the witnesses of your devotion to freedom and of your heroism.”
~ Frederick Douglass in a letter to Harriet Tubman, August 29, 1868
“And he rode upon a cherub and did fly; Yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind.”
~ Psalm 18:10
VIRGINIA, 1857 -- “Keep going.” It was Auntie Bee’s voice. From the darkness behind me I could feel the force of her will pushing me forward. “You’re scared—but keep going,” she hollered. “If you want your freedom, keep going.”
Her confidence and courage gave me the strength to move.
I raised my leg and took a long step toward the bed of the flier, letting my bare foot touch down on the soft cotton cloth. Leaning on the wood frame and pressing my foot on the bed, I began to swing my other leg onto the flier when I heard a sharp ripping sound. My foot fell through the cloth, tore a hole right through. Suddenly, my leg disappeared below the flier, gone all the way up to my groin. It was dangling in the air over the dark nothingness below.
I was afraid the hole would suck the rest of my body through so
I gripped the wood frame with both hands, holding on for dear life. I felt a pair of strong hands steadying me from behind. It was Auntie Bee pressing against my back.
“Stay low,” Mose called to me. “On your belly. Crawl to the center. That’s it.”
I struggled to pull my leg back through the hole and squirmed my way to the middle of the cloth bed. I was terrified. What if the cloth began ripping to shreds? It was the only thing holding me up. I was afraid to move. The slightest shift could make the hole larger.
I hoped Mose would not let go of his end of the flier. The moment he did, I was afraid I would be in for a quick trip down the side of the mountain.
Auntie Bee looked at Mose—she didn’t know what to do either. He gave her a confident nod and a moment later she was pushing Randall and Emily on the flier. “Get down!” she yelled at them. “Stay low! Crawl! Keep away from the hole. Low…low…low! That’s the way.”
Now there were three of us on the flier. I didn’t see much room for anyone else. Mose could get on but it would be a tight squeeze. I did not see any room for Auntie Bee.
Mose passed me a bag containing the flint sticks and three sealed glass bottles. The bottles only looked empty but I knew what was in them—gas that smelled like rotten eggs. It was our fuel to keep the flame going.
Each jar was covered with a tube made from a pig’s artery several inches long and clamped tight at the top. I slid the tube into the hole in the boiler. Now the jar was connected.
“Open her up,” Mose shouted. I loosened the valve on top of the tube and immediately heard a whoosh of air flowing into the boiler chamber. And there was that God-awful smell.
I knew what to do next. I grabbed the flint sticks and snapped them to make a spark. Inside the jar, the flame lit. Now we only had to wait for the heat to bring the water to a boil. The steam would power the propeller and off we’d go.
Auntie Bee gave me a basket filled with corn bread and water. I held my hand out so she could take it and climb on. “Come,” I called.
She reached out with both hands but they went past me. Instead she picked up little Randall and hugged him and kissed him. She did the same for Emily.
“Josiah, you be good, now,” she said to me. “Remember—say your prayers every day. Be respectful to all you meet. Be thankful to your Maker for your blessings. And never forget that we are ALL God’s children.”
She gave me a soft kiss on top of my head.
The water was heating up. I could hear bubbles rolling inside the boiler.
Suddenly, the flier came alive, gears rotating and clattering, rods chugging up and down, the propeller whirring above us and picking up speed, pushing cool air down on our heads.
“Remember,” Mose hollered above the din. “Just follow the mountain. If you want to change direction lean the way you want to go.”
“Come on, Mose,” I yelled. I figured he’d be safer on the flier than on the edge of the mountain. He could lay flat with the children on top of him. Hopefully, his added weight wouldn’t make the hole larger any larger.
Quickly, I put that thought out of my mind. I had confidence in Mose. I was sure he already figured a way to make it work.
“Mose! Get on!” I hollered again.
“Now, you be careful,” he said.
I didn’t understand what he meant.
“Mose! Come! You can’t hold on too much longer!”
“Get ready, boy,” he shouted over the grinding machinery and turbulent winds. “Goodbye.”
What was he saying?
“Mose! Get on here!” I screamed.
“You goin on your own,” he said.
I panicked. How could he leave me at a time like this?
“Mose!” I screamed. “No! You gotta come! I can’t do this without
you!”
“Naah, you’ll be all right. It ain’t as hard as it looks. Just do what I told you. Surrender to the air and you will fly.”
I looked at Auntie Bee, pleading, desperate. I wanted her to tell Mose to jump on with us. Then I wanted her to get on herself. I didn’t know what to do.
Auntie Bee, bless her, she looked at me like she didn’t have a care in the world. She stood there smiling. She had the face of an angel, beaming, bright, her inner light shining like she knew everything would be just fine.
“Now remember, keep low and save your fuel.” Mose had to shout so we could hear him over the dizzying spin of the propeller. “Let the air take you. Ride on the wings of the wind.”
The propeller was a blur, beating the air incessantly, making a frightful racket. The wind from its circular motion grew so powerful we couldn’t stand even if we wanted to. We’d get blown off.
Mose was yelling at us but in all the commotion I couldn’t make out what he was saying. The flier was charged and ready to bolt, steam shooting from the boiler, wind gusting from the churning propeller, all the moving parts pumping. And Mose was still fighting to hold on to the flier.
Suddenly, his hands shot up over his head and he fell backward. Mose let go. Now we were moving away from the ledge.
Mose got up and stood beside Auntie Bee. They were both smiling and waving. Auntie Bee was calling us. She was telling us something. Her lips were moving but I could not make out what she was saying. I wanted desperately to hear, afraid that it would be the last time she would ever speak to me.
Auntie Bee and Mose were moving farther away. There was an open space between the flier and the ledge where they were standing. We were hanging in the air several feet from the cliff.
It was startling, horrifying, exhilarating, miraculous. We had nothing supporting us, nothing to hold us up. There was nothing underneath us. All around us there was nothing but air. Nothing.
I leaned over the side of the flier and looked down. Below us, and on every side as far as I could see, there was only darkness.
*********************************************************************************************
I would love for everybody to read the book and let me know what you think. If you are interested, go to
www.synergebooks.com or
www.wingsfirstflight.com
Posted By: Richard Kigel
Thursday, February 23rd 2012 at 2:46PM
You can also
click
here to view all posts by this author...
