Sapphic Voices Young Adult

Runners On The Railroad

There is a multi-racial friendship / love within the Story. This Story contains depictions of violence.

We had been sitting in Kip's office for over an hour. The sun was still shining. Fort Dorchester Park looked as good as I remembered. And I was dying to ask. "You're not really a witch are you?"

Kip looked at me with a serious face, but then she laughed. "You know" she said, "It's been years since anyone's had the balls to even ask me that." She put a hunting knife into the backpack on top of the desk. "I remember you as a truth seeker." She picked up the pack.

"Is that why you're going with me?"

Kip shrugged her shoulders. Without speaking, she turned away from me and headed toward the front door. "It's time to go. Grab that Coleman over there will ya?"

I grabbed the lantern and followed her out the door. We followed the well-used back path down to the edge of the Ashley River. Kip looked over her shoulders at me as I followed behind her. "You know I never forgot the story you told me when we were kids."

"Neither did I."

"And that's why you came back here. You need to know the truth."

"Maybe I really just imagined it."

Kip stared at me looking thoughtful." My great great grandmother came here from Haiti. She was very religious. She practiced a special form of what you might call voodoo. Those practices have been handed down from woman to woman in my family."

"So you really are a witch." Still no real answer. Kip is so good with blank facial expressions. Okay, I'd try again later.

"Well, most of what she practiced you'd probably just call herbal medicine and natural healing; but she did teach my mother and I about much more intangible things like dreams and what we might make of them." She looked at her watch. "It's just about the right time, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

She climbed into a small rowboat, the engine tilted upward so that the blades were out of the water. "Okay. I know you said canoe, but whatever happens, I want us to be able to get back here. We just won't start off using the motor. We'll do everything like you said it happened before."

"What if nothing happens?" I climbed into the small boat behind her.

"Why did you come back here?"

"I have to know."

"Ah. But Why?"

"I guess I have to finish the dream. It ended before it was really over, and I have to know what was supposed to happen."

"Then all we can do is keep trying until it happens again."

We were both rowing steadily downriver. She was right. I just gave up everything in my life to come back here. Why? Because of a dream that's stuck in place inside my head. It replays itself over and over in my mind, and It's not going to stop and leave me alone, until I finish whatever it was that got started so long ago.

The river began to curve around the site of the old fort that was now abandoned in favor of the new park on its outer edges. Up ahead of us I saw it. The same tunnel that lives in my dreams. It starts with those ancient Magnolia trees along both sides of the water. The branches of the trees reach out over the river and entwine themselves together so tightly that you can't tell what branches belong to which trees.


We rowed into the tunnel and the center of my dreams. There were no more sounds. Every sign of life along the river disappeared. There was nothing but the sound of our oars dipping into the water. I let my eyes adjust to the darkness. The silence I remembered. This was the way it began. With a deep breath, I began to look around. I knew exactly what I was looking for. I put the Coleman lantern on the seat in front of me and lit it. I had to watch for the house. Would it still be there? Did I really see it, or was it a part of the dream I made up after all these years of thinking about it.

Up ahead on the left bank there it was: the house that haunts my dreams. The faded paint was still peeling off; the front porch was still sagging in places. The house itself was completely dark except for a small light in the uppermost attic window. We rowed toward the house. Without saying a word, Kip put on the backpack and helped me pull the boat onto land. I tied the boat to a tree. Could it be the same old oak tree that we had tied our canoe to? It looked bigger, but then it would be much older now; at least ten years older.

Picking up the lantern out of the boat, I walked up toward the house. It looked vacant except for that light in the window. Eerie. Before I waited in the boat. This time I would go out to the house. I would know for sure what happened. My heart was pounding ferociously in my ears. It was too late to walk away, besides, I just had to know. How could I get this close and let it go?

I grabbed onto the porch railing and felt it sway against my touch. The boards on the steps sagged at my weight but continued to hold up. The porch squealed and groaned as I made my way to the front door. I lifted the knocker and let it fall. The unexpected bang echoed thru the silence of the night.

Unlike the last time, I couldn't see if the light was moving down toward the front door, but I could swear I heard the sound of hard sturdy shoes on uncovered wooden stair-steps. I was in the middle of a deep breath when the door opened. My own sudden stop caused me to choke. A woman dressed in men's pants and suspenders walked onto the porch. She held up her lantern and stared at me, her piercing gaze cutting through my entire being.

"Good," she said. "I've been waiting for your return. You must deliver one more group."

"One more group? " What was this woman talking about?

"Sh. Listen" Off in the distance, dogs were howling. "You don't have much time. Go! She'll show you the way," The woman pointed over my head toward Kip. And then I knew. I really had done this before. The dogs were still barking. They were much louder now.

"Where are we going?"

"We have to catch up to the others. If we don't, they will get on the wrong ship." What others?

"We got the wrong information somehow. NO. Don't look like that. It wasn't your fault." We rowed the small craft into faster moving waters.

"I know I need to do something here."

"You remember? You promised to return and here you are." She talked as if she knew me, as if she had known me for some time.

"You know me don't you?"

"I know who you were once."

"Who?" This was it.

"You were James Muckinfuss's daughter."

"I betrayed someone, didn't I? "

"No You left here thinking that you did, but it's not true; you didn't do anything."

"I led them to you. They killed you. " She looked into my eyes. She knew I was remembering something.

"No they already knew, they were just using you." She was lying and I knew it. She had to be. It must have been my fault. She died because of me.

"Now what are we going to do?"

"Sh. We are near Charleston. We must find out where they are hiding."

"In the gardens." Where did that come from? And why did I know exactly?

Kip grinned. "I knew you could tell me. Don't worry. I promise you we will find them."

"But will it be too late?"

"I don't know. That's up to you." When we caught up to the group, they were talking to a dark-haired man. When I saw him, I knew that I knew him, and I had once loved him. He was my father, but he had betrayed me and everything I stood for. And now, I knew he was going to betray the whole railroad. From fifty yards away, I felt his hatred. He was going to win again if someone didn't stop him. The question was how could he be stopped?

"You interrupt him long enough for me to get to the others. They must be warned."

"But won't he recognize me? You did."

"You're dead remember?"

"A Ghost from the past?"

Kip stared at me. "Yes. I think it could work. You are a ghost who's come back to haunt him. Let him and the others know what he did. Let him think he's talking to the dead. Yes, it might just work."

"He's taking them thru Old Towne Slave Cemetery."

"Yes. The one we were always told to stay out of at night. The one that is supposed to be haunted.

"What's the plan?"

"Just trust me. We used to play here as children."

Was I supposed to remember that? There was something that sounded vaguely familiar. In my mind, I caught just a glimpse of two children running through this very cemetery.

Kip led me through the woods and we made our way over to the cemetery. We took paths that seemed to twist farther and farther away from the group, but somehow, we managed to get ahead of them.

"Okay. Get yourself ready."

"For what?"

"To come back from the dead."

I didn't know whether I had any acting ability or not, but I was willing to find out. If I didn't, too many people just might die again. From behind Muckinfuss Mausoleum, we could keep an eye on the group. They were no longer moving, but resting instead. I found a white shirt in Kip's backpack and put it on.

Kip crawled back behind some tombstones in order to come up behind the group.

I crawled in the opposite direction so that I could stand face to face with my father. I waited a minute before making my move. I had to be sure that Kip was in place. I threw a pebble at a tree behind me. As I peeked around the side of an oval slab, I caught a glimpse of James. He was staring in my direction, but his light was swinging away rather than toward me. Finally, I got on my knees so I could peek over the top of the stone.

"Hello Father." he froze.

"What? No hello for your favorite daughter?"

He stood still his lips quivering. Some of the others were staring too. "How did you escape? I mean...I thought you were dead."

"I am." It was amazingly satisfying to see him drop his lantern on his foot.

"What do you want from me?"

" I want you to tell the truth. Tell them. "I pointed to the small group behind him.

"Tell them what?"

"How it was you and not me who set up that last trap. How you made it look like it was my fault, and then killed me because you were afraid I could prove you wrong. Tell them!"

"You're crazy. I wasn't anywhere near here when those men chased you down."

"Maybe that's true, but you were the one who sent them."

Behind him, the group was backing up deeper into the woods. One by one, they disappeared. When father turned around, they were gone.

"I'll get you, you little bitch." He was almost frothing at the mouth. It was definitely time for me to disappear.

I ran toward the oldest section of the cemetery, the slave section. Father hesitated at the old iron gate. That same gate that his men had hanged me on. Yeah. I remembered, and the anger hit hard. I knew he wouldn't stop until he caught me.

If I could just stay low enough, maybe I could make it through this older section and to the safety of the woods before he caught me. If I could get to t he woods, I would have a chance. I remembered his old leg wound. He wouldn't be running for long, and weaving through the woods would be impossible for him. In my haste, I forgot about the shortcut path. He was suddenly in front of me. His gun was pointed directly at my heart.

"Okay. You got me. You're gonna kill me again anyway, so why? I deserve to know that much anyway."

"Why? You know why. Because of that bitch you love. That witch's daughter corrupted you. If she hadn't brought you into this no one would know. We could have stopped all the slaves from running away. Those animals don't deserve to exist anyway. I will not let her have you, even if I have to kill you myself. You belong to me."

Finally the true answer. The door unlocked. I had loved the witch's daughter, and she had shown me the truth. She let me see what my father and his friends were doing. Hey, I was going to die, but at least I had my answer. I looked into his eyes and waited for the blast and the pain I knew would follow. I blinked. Nothing happened. His eyes dilated wide open. His fingers opened, and the gun in his hand pointed toward the ground. I looked lower, and there was a knife sticking out of his groin. He fell to his knees and a body knocked me to the ground. I watched as Kip punched him in the face, knocking him out. She walked back to me and held out her hand. I took it.

The End

If you have enjoyed pj leslie's "Runners On The Railroad", then please be certain to e-mail her at  bbrinker1940[at]yahoo.com  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here for a list of all of pj leslie's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.