I didn’t think much about it until I was lying in bed that night. Mose had me wondering. Why was the old man leaving in the middle of the night anyway? Why would he want to give up his sleep? And how come he was always back before morning? Where was he going? And what was he up to?
I had a feeling he was planning to escape. Why else would he keep it secret?
I wanted to find out what he was doing but I couldn’t just go up to him and ask. Mose wasn’t much of a talker. I thought about following him one night but I had to be careful. Suppose I got lost in the dark? If I was caught outside the cabin at night I could get flogged. If Mose tried to escape and they found out that we were together, I’d get beat worse than him. I have young strong legs and good reason to run. They would surely try to beat the notion out of me.
As for Mose, they wouldn’t be so hard on him. He was too valuable around here. It would do Massa no good if Ol’ Mose was laid up nursing his wounds.
No, if Mose was getting ready to run he wouldn’t tell a soul. So I laid on my straw bed thinking that if I heard him shuffling in the dark that night, I would sneak out after him.
I would have to see him go through the door since Mose fixed it so it would not squeak. I would have to stay awake. That was my plan when I closed my eyes.
A moment later—at least it seemed like a moment—early morning light came bursting through the cracks in the walls and the infernal horn was blaring. The cabin filled with sounds of groaning, cussing, stretching and yawning.
I never did get up to follow him. And Mose was there, sleeping as peaceful as a baby.
The next couple of nights, just before going to sleep, I would say to myself: “You lazy fool! Why can’t you get yourself up?”
Truthfully, I was mighty wary of leaving the safety of our cabin at night. It wasn’t only ghosts and nightmares that worried me. I wasn’t even afraid of the pattyrollers or the overseer—they had to sleep at night like the rest of us.
The thing that scared me most was waking Auntie Bee and the others. I didn’t want them yapping at me all day for disturbing their rest.
There was another reason to be afraid outside the cabin at night: mountain lions. Most nights you could hear them snorting and howling in the dark. They were hungry and prowling for food. The very last thing I wanted was to meet up with a starving mountain lion.
Then I thought about Mose. If he was really going off every night he was giving up the most valuable thing a slave had. Rest. Peace. Solitude. It was the only time they left us alone. Mose was giving up his sleep.
When he walked off at night, he wasn’t acting like anybody’s slave. He wasn’t working for someone else. He was doing what he wanted. It was something was so important to him that he wasn’t going to let the night, the Massa or the mountain lions keep him away. Mose had reached the point
where he was no longer afraid. He had the spirit of a free man inside him. A slave who cannot be contained is already half free.
That night I swore I would get up. It was what I wanted to do. If Mose was working on a plan to escape, then I wanted to go with him.
Sleep was hard to withstand. It kept calling me, pulling at me. I tried to resist. Tired as I was, I began to think—what am I doing? Why am I fighting sleep? I must be crazy. Sleep is precious. Sleep is our healer, our peace, our heaven. Why would anyone willingly give up a good night’s sleep?
Well, Mose was doing just that. I figured he had good reason and I aimed to discover what it was.
Posted By: Richard Kigel
Friday, May 21st 2010 at 9:30PM
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