The Sign
 |
Jess tried to steady his trembling legs. It wasn’t easy to do with the strangers in the house. They were searching every room and surrounding Ma, who stood there bravely.
“A slave?” she was saying. “We have no slaves on our farm.”
“We’re
looking for a runaway named Orion,” said a bearded
man. “If you’re hiding my
slave . . .”
Jess didn’t wait to hear more. Ma had helped many slaves on their way to freedom; she was an expert at handling men like these. Jess slipped outdoors. In the distance, the river roared in the night. A light flickered on its bank. Jess ran toward it and gasped, “Orry, they’re searching for you!”
In the glow of the fire, Jess saw Orry wince. Then, with his good arm, Orry grabbed a pail of water and put out the flames.
“Their search won’t be easy.”
“The men won’t find you,” Jess said firmly. “Ma told me what to do. I’ll row you across the river. Then, you go to the farm Ma told you about. They’ll help you from there.”
Orry shook his head. “Taking the boat wouldn’t be safe. The men will probably look here soon. They’d spot us in the water.”
Orry crawled into the pit that he had dug, where he had slept the past few nights. He came out with a bundle and tied it to his belt with a bandanna. He stuck a hunting knife in his sheath, then took a step toward the river.
Jess went cold as he looked across the raging river’s expanse. “Swimming’s too dangerous.”
Orry chuckled softly. “I’m not afraid of the river. I’ll be fine.”
Jess gulped. How could Orry swim with a wounded arm? Six days ago, Orry had staggered into their yard, hurt from his journey. Ma had treated his arm, but it still hadn’t healed completely.
“Even if you make it across, will you be able to find the farm in the dark?” asked Jess.
“Look at the sky,” Orry said gently. “All the stars are out. I reckon they’ll guide me safely.”
Jess tilted his head to the stars he and Orry had loved studying during their brief friendship. Jess had told Orry their names and drawn the constellations for him. But it was Orry who had brought the stars to life. He had made up stories about the dancing Seven Sisters, the rumbling Big Bear, the laughing Little Bear. . . .
 |
“The stars will guide me,” Orry repeated. “When I make it to the opposite bank, I’ll leave a sign for you. Then you’ll know I’m safe.”
“What kind of sign?”
“Why, I’ll—”
Orry
stopped at the sound of a shout. “They’re on
their way,” he whispered.
Jess felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Seconds later, Orry
was gone. Orry had been his friend for six days of his life;
he would miss him all the rest of it. “You’ve
got to be safe, Orry,” he thought. “If you can
just swim the river, you can make it to the North, too.”
The roaring river filled Jess’s dreams that night. He slept fit-fully. But in the morning, the river had quieted. Ma followed Jess to the boat. Together they rowed across the water.
“The men might come back,” said Ma.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Jess. “Orry must be far away by now. When we see his sign on the bank, at least we’ll know that he made it across the river.”
But as they docked, Ma gasped. Tangled in some riverbank weeds was a bandanna.
Jess gritted his teeth. “Orry’s all right. The sign has to be here.”
Jess stumbled through the brush, searching everywhere. He paused at a tree to study some marks on its trunk. Had Orry made them with his knife?
But Ma shook her head. “It’s just woodpeckers, Jess.”
Ma was blinking back tears as they rowed home. Jess stared silently at the shoreline ahead. He tried not to look at the mighty river; he tried not to think of Orry lost in its depths. When they got to the farm, Jess went to work in the yard. He chopped wood until his hands were blistered and burning. Then he dropped to the ground for a rest.
The sky above Jess was blue. But in his mind, it was night again, with the stars shining. Orry’s words came back: “The stars will guide me. . . . I’ll leave a sign. . . .” A terrible sadness filled Jess. But as he stared upward, a pattern came to mind. Like pieces of a puzzle, the pattern clicked into place.
“Ma!”
shouted Jess. Trembling with joy, he jumped up and ran into
the house.
“Orry’s name, Ma. Remember what it’s short
for?”
Ma said softly, “Orion.”
Jess grabbed his slate and drew a pattern on it. “Those marks on the tree weren’t from woodpeckers. They’re the shape of a constellation.” Jess held out the slate. “The stars of Orion, Ma. Orry made them. He’s safe!”
Ma gave a happy cry and hugged Jess. From the open door came the sound of the rushing river. To Jess, it sounded just like Orry’s soft chuckle.
