Jingle Bells

1856

Emily ran with a columbine in her long, dark hair. A boy, the same age as she, followed. Together they spread their arms like hummingbirds over a river of nectar and laughed as they spun to the ground. Their skin, white as milk, showed every trace of mud, tree, and river they came across. They laughed, pressed against the cool green grass that would stain their clothes. She watched the clouds swim across the blue sky, and he admired the shadows they cast across her body. He thought about stealing a kiss, but winced at the sounds of the rocking chair instead. Her Mother watched them from afar, and though she was far enough, he was afraid to say anything bad about the old bag of bones.

Emily’s bodice had already loosened with the day's activities: catching frogs in Mr. Horn’s pond, stealing pie off Mrs. Bert’s window, and burying a broken porcelain doll Josiah had deemed cheap trash. She saw a crow and almost said something, but Josiah had seen it too and took out his slingshot, killing the bird. His trousers, now stained from the grass, would soon be covered in mud, for he had not been home in two days, but then again, he was never called home. According to Emily’s Mother, the Colberts were trash and would always be trash, case in point, Josiah Elihu Colbert. She didn’t like him one bit, even though she hated crows.

Josiah picked up the dead bird, and Emily pinched her nose with disapproval. He chased her with it, enough for the rocking chair to stop, and Mrs. Greer to stand and give them a shouting they could not hear as the children had crossed the sparse trees where horses catch the shade, and into the dense blue woods that surrounded her land. They hopped over the creek, and that was about as far as they usually went, but they went a little further, because Josiah was still chasing her with a dead bird until they heard the sound of bells. Before a word could be spoken, a man with an iron collar that had three protruding hooks with bells welded onto their ends, far enough that anyone with this iron around their neck could not reach the jingling bells. Everyone stopped. He was a black man without a shirt or shoes, and an expression of fear that would never leave Emily or Josiah for as long as they may live. He put his finger to his lip, and the three of them listened. There was a party down by Mr. Hoover’s rocks, and it didn’t take the children long to put two and two together. That this collard man was a runaway slave. Emily and Josiah looked at one another, unsure of what to do, but the man pressed his finger to his lip again and remained still. On his hand, he drew a map, and Josiah, whose family had been hiding slaves for years, tossed the crow and approached him without any fear, while Emily, on the other hand, had heard too many stories. Josiah nodded and understood the map the man made, and pointed North. The man nodded.

The party down by Mr. Hoover’s rocks became audible enough that Emily and Josiah could hear Bern Coont tell the tale of the time a Yank had come up the river with parted hair, and that the man tried to remove an ink stain from his waistcoat as his sons fed watermelon rinds to a sounder of swine that had tried to eat their pregnant Mother’s shoes. Emily and Josiah had heard this story enough times that they could recite it word for word, but the man with the iron collar around his neck became very agitated, and when Josiah tried to shush him, the man pointed to the bells. Josiah nodded, but Emily shook her head. She was sympathetic to the man’s plight but was frightened to get anywhere near him. He had many scars on his back. Bern Coont grew louder and louder, and Emily looked at the man’s terrified eyes and imagined he’d probably get more scars if he were caught, again. So, she grabbed one bell to Josiah’s two and made for the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, which was about an hour's walk and a 30-minute run. They ran.

Emily held onto that bell, but she tripped over an old root, and not only did the bell make a noise, but she let out a yelp, and quickly covered her mouth. Josiah and the man disappeared into a bush before she became aware she was in the company of many, especially Bern Coont, who held up his finger to his lip. With the only hand not holding a firearm, Bern pointed in multiple directions, then looked at Emily. She tried to stand, but Bern motioned to stay down. She looked and sent them north, but north west, knowing they’d know an enslaved person would never be going back south, but then again, Emily’s family made a fortune sending slaves south to New Orleans and the auction block, and she could certainly be trusted. Bern nodded, and the men walked away. Day became night, and Emily knew she was going to get it when she got home, and she was surprised at how little she cared about it. She was hungry too, but the terror in the man’s eyes pushed every little thing in her body and life away like blades of grass, floating downriver. She wondered how long he had been scared. She wondered how he slept with that thing on, and never found out, for when the clouds covered the moon, Josiah and she once again grabbed the bells and led him to the rivers, to a place where the water moves fast, but Cairo, Illinois, can be seen. Josiah pointed, and the man cried. He shook both their hands and swam. Emily wondered what the bells meant in a free state. She wondered if he still had to be scared.