Running Out of Night Read Online Free Page B

forget about mine.
    “I turned round, seen Promise’s wagon leavin. She were holdin out her hands, reachin for me, but I”—she gulped—“I hurt so bad I cain’t move, and all I do is watch her till I cain’t hear nothin or see her no more.”
    This time I reached out and found her hand. I couldn’t imagine havin a mama and papa, and a baby sister I loved and who loved me, but even worse, I couldn’t imagine losin them.

M ake sure nobody follows you and walks in your tracks, or you will die
.
    I slept again and woke to the sound of a purrin snore beside me. I reached out to smooth Bathsheba’s sleek fur, but my hands met tufts of wiry hair.
    I weren’t in the barn with a sleepin dog. I were in the cellar, trapped, with the runaway girl who started up my problems. If it hadn’t been for her, I’d be back out in the garden pickin tomaters, or shovelin our cow Hildie’s dung out of the barn. Anythin would be better than where I were now.
    I slowly pushed myself up, winced with pain, then touched my arm, my shoulder, and my wrist. “No bones stickin out anywhere,” I said aloud, “but I am right hurt.”
    I couldn’t see the girl, but I felt the rough sack slip off as she rolled over.
    “We best be gettin out of here afore them men come back,” she said. “Only the good Lord knows how long we been down here.”
    We? “We best be gettin out of here”? Just what I needed. Not bad enough that I’m a mite smaller than most girls, and that my ugly red hair stands out like broom corn, but now look what I were stuck with—a tall, raggedy runaway slave girl who dragged trouble behind her like a tail. We’d stick out worse ’n chickens in Sunday dresses.
    “Who says you’re goin anywhere nearst to where I’m goin?” I asked.
    “You. You’s the one who say ‘what
we
gonna do.’ ”
    I thought back on those words. I had said that. Maybe I were just plumb scairt at the time and not thinkin right, but here I were down in a cellar hole, all beat up, and talkin about runnin away with someone I’d never even seen till today.
    “I don’t know where you gonna go,” I said quietly, “but I cain’t stay round for any more beatins from anyone. I have to run while I can, and I don’t need no one follerin me.”
    Oh, I felt right sorry for that girl. I felt sorry down to my toes, but I’d gotten deep in trouble for her, and even though I knowed she’d lost everythin, well, I had to look out for myself now.
    I bit down on my lip as I pushed myself up from thehard-packed dirt floor. Every inch of me hurt, but I couldn’t stop to think on that. I waited for a sound, any sound above me. Nothin moved, nothin creaked. I raised the trapdoor slightly and ducked my head as the sand from the floor sifted down and onto my hair. I pushed the door open wider, stepped up, and poked my head over the edge.
    The last rosy light of the day made the cabin glow. I loved this time when I were home alone and all peaceful-like. I’d sit out on the porch steps when Pa and my brothers wasn’t around, maybe Bathsheba or Delia beside me, and watch the sun settin and listen to all them birds callin one to another as they found their way back to their homes.
    From outside, I heard the shrill talkin of the nighthawks as they began to crisscross the sky above the clearin.
Beanzz, beanzz, beanzz
, they cried.
    “Beans is right,” I said as I looked down at the girl. “We best be loadin up on food. Jerky, cracklins, whatever we can fit in these sacks easy-like.” I turned and stepped back down into the cellar.
    She bent, picked up a bag, and began stuffin it with taters. “No,” I said. “Load it with jerky, cracklins, dried apple slices, apples, anythin you can carry easy, not them heavy taters.”
    She nodded, dumped most of the taters on the floor, and reached for the meat.
    I slowly loaded a bundle, then slipped on the shouldersling I carry when I’m pickin apples. From the racks below the smoked ham, I gathered up some soup