The creaking of the big, oak door made the quiet murmuring fade away into the darkness.  Mary’s lantern shone on my face and she held a hand out to me. I took it and the tenseness in the room faded.

“Maua,” mother said behind me.

 “Ni alright mama, I uaminifu Mary.” I whispered.

 “Here you go my child, give these to your friends.”  Mary said to me quietly, handing wrapped bread to me.

 “Thank you,” I said. I gave my mother and my two sisters’ one loaf to share and broke the other five in thirds and gave on third to each person.

 “Maua?” Mary called.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Do your friends know English like you?”

 “No Ma’am, I worked with Mrs. Burneside in her sewing room, so I had to be able to communicate with her. The other women worked in the gardens and kitchen, so they were never around our owners like me.  The men and boys worked in the fields.” I replied.

 “Then you are the youngest here.”

 “Yes, ma’am. The other nineteen are a lot older than me.”

“Thank you for talking with me, dear,” said Mary as she walked up the stone steps. She shut the old, creaky door before I could respond.

 We sat for hours in the dark cellar and waited for word from the Second Battle of Petersburg. Mary’s husband was a soldier under Colonel Joshua Chamberlain. She was worried about many things. For days she worried about the outcome of the battle and her husband.

“Maua wapenzi, nini wewe kufikiri. I hofu una mengi ya akili tata kwa miaka Saba.” mother said pulling me into her lap.

My sister, Uzuri, stroked my long hair and began braiding the dark strands. Her dark fingers wove out the grime, and dirt, and fear.

“Mama, I ni kufikiri kuhusu Mary na mume wake katika vita. Nini kama sisi kamwe kufanya hivyo kwa Canada? Kama nini mtu upatikanaji wa samaki yetu?” I asked. I had tried so hard to be strong through the process of leaving, but the fear kept creeping in, and this time, I couldn’t keep it out. I worried day and night about if we would make it, or if they would kill us.

“Msiwe na wasiwasi. Sisi kuishi. I unaweza kuhisi ni katika mifupa yangu. Nafikiri-“The loud squealing of the door silenced mother and the other fugitives. Mary’s silhouette scurried down the stairs and held the lantern up to our wondering faces.

“My husband is home! We won the Battle of Petersburg!” Mary gasped.

I scrambled from mother’s lap and turned toward the many wondering slaves behind me. “Sisi alishinda vita ya Petersburg!” I yelled.

A cheer arose from the group in front of me. We had one more city that we could someday live in.

I joyfully embraced my mother and sisters and Mary. We laughed and Uzuri took my hand and we danced.

“MARY!” we heard from above. The room fell silent and Mary crept out the door. She bolted it shut behind her and told me to keep them quiet.

“Kufanya hakuna sauti,” I whispered into the silent darkness.

Uzuri took my hand and we sat next to mother, scared. She clutched my hand and I moved to her lap. She returned to braiding my hair and the tension within her faded away.

The opening door creaked slightly; just enough to let Mary pass through. Mary smiled a faint smile and whispered into the darkness.

“Don’t worry child. It was only my husband back from the fields. He brings good news; Colonel Chamberlain is coming to dinner tonight. But that is also bad. You must not make any noise down here while he is here. If you do, he could return you to your master.”

“I will tell them, thank you.” I turned to the wondering faces and whispered, “Tunapaswa kuwa kimya sana kuanzia sasa. Kanali anakuja kwa chakula cha jioni na hakuweza lazima kutupa nyuma kwa bwana zetu.”

Collective gasp rose from the group and looks of fear was placed on everyone’s faces as if by a brush.

“Utulivu chini, utulivu chini.” I whispered. My friends responded and the looks of fear gradually melted away as they calmed their hearts.

 “Muda gani yeye kuwa hapa?” a voice rose up.

 “He asks how long he will be here?” I said to Mary.

He nodded and rested his head against the wall. The other slaves took his advice and all leaned down to sleep. I crawled onto my mother and fell asleep. The soft sound of 20 breaths soothed me enough to have a peaceful, dreamless, nightmare free, sleep.

The loud bang of the door against the wall startled us awake. In the light of the doorway was a tall man with a moustache and a deep blue uniform staring down at us with a gleam in his eye.

In a moment he was in front of our fearful group towering over our shaking bodies. He raised a hand and we flinched. He lowered it gruffly and his hard eyes shone as he asked “Do any of you speak English?”

I shakily stood and nodded my head. My sisters rose behind me and put reassuring hands on my shoulders.

Mary appeared in the doorway behind the Colonel and placed her hands over her mouth as if she wished to cry out.

            “What is your name girl?” he asked looking me in my brown eyes full of fear and anxiety.

            “Maua, sir.” I replied.  My voice was weak although I had tried to make it strong.

            “Maua?” the colonel grabbed my arm and led me, gingerly, out of the dark cellar. His eyes softened when he looked at my frail body, but he was pushing me gently up the stairs and my fear rose with every step.

Many of the men behind me stood and prepared to fight, but Mary raised a hand and they sat down on the dark floor.

Reaching the top of the stairs the light was so bright that my eyes burned from being in the dark for days. I fluttered my eyes shut and raised my free hand to block out the light while my eyes adjusted.

When I could see, I took in everything. The pale blue walls and the rugs on the cold hard floor. The lovely meal spread across the table and the setting sun glinting off the window panes creating streaks of light across the floor. A soft tug on my arm reminded me I of my reality and I turned my attention to Colonel Chamberlain. I followed him to the table and when he sat down I sat on the floor beside him out of habit. He looked at me and laughed a heartily laugh. I immediately stood and cross my arms.

            “I am sorry, child. I just have never been treated as you did just then.”

 “It was out of habit. When mistress sat down, I sat beside her on the floor and picked up anything she dropped.” I whispered. My gaze involuntarily dropped to my bare feet where a pale scar across the top where she had “dropped” a knife.

The colonel looked too and, if he noticed, looked over the scar. He adjusted his chair and held a hand out to me.

I gingerly placed my small dark hand into his large pale one and let him pull me to a chair. I sat down and looked at my hands which I held on the table in front of me. The room was silent for seconds that felt like hours. A billion thoughts raced through my head. What will happen to us? What if he sends us back to the plantation? What if he killed us here for attempting escape? What if I couldn’t persuade him to let us go?

The colonel studied my face as if he could see everything I was thinking and my fear grew. He sat back in his chair and Mary brought him a cup of something that he handed to me.

I was sure my fear diminished a little bit because I felt my shoulders relax when he started to talk.

 “So, you are the only one in that group down there that speaks English?”

I nodded, “We all speak Swahili and a tiny bit of Arabic but I am the only one who speaks English, yes.”

“You speak it very well.”

“Thank you,” I glanced up and saw him looking at me.

“Child, I know you are young and have been through a lot. Your scars are more than enough to tell how you were treated. The Union is fighting as best they can to end slavery and free you too. However there is a series of laws called the Fugitive Slave Acts. They say that if anyone finds an escaped slave, they must return them to their owners. Being the person I am, that is the last thing I want, after you worked so hard to be free. However, as a general, it is my duty and obligation to protect the law. I must return you to your owner.” Colonel Chamberlain looked me in the eye as I raised my head and I saw deep grief and remorse building.

“Please sir,” I whispered, “We have been traveling for weeks from Florida to here and I am the only one who can communicate and transfer information between my “family” and our helpers.  I know more about the war and what’s happening than I ever wanted to. I am sorry that you have to return us to our slave holders because we are almost broken. However, I understand that it is your job. I will go tell the others.” I rose from the table and moved toward the steps. My sisters were sitting on the ground at the base of the steps and rose when they saw me.

“Maua,” I heard behind me. I turned and my sister’s soft footsteps of them climbing the steps seceded behind me.

  “Mimi si madhara yake, kwenda wasichana,” Colonel said. He looked at me and laughed at my astonishment.

My two sisters reluctantly let go and warily turned down the steps. I turned to watch them go and they smiled reassuringly.

“You just told them you wouldn’t harm me. In Swahili. How do you know Swahili?” I asked.

“I am fluent in ten languages,” he answered. He gestured to the table and I sat. A wounded man appeared from behind the wall and stood silently there.

“For such a young girl, Maua, you are strong. You are the only one who is able to communicate with anyone you come into contact with and that is powerful,” he rested his head on his hands, “ The Fugitive Slave Acts say that I must return you to your owner, but I can’t do that. I cannot and will not go against my beliefs, because the South wants me to. You will continue your work and help your family. Then you will go back under my protection and lead another group.”

I smiled bigger than I thought possible and the whole house seemed to light up as the sun rose.

Colonel Chamberlain took my hand and said, “The power of noble deeds is to be preserved and passed on to the future.”(Chamberlain, n.p)

I rose, speechless, and ran down to the cellar. “Yeye ni kwenda kusaidia us!” I grasped my sisters and mother as Joshua appeared in the doorway and laughed. We started dancing and singing old African songs and I was happy for the second time in my life.

Joshua approached me and kneeled beside me. He said “We know not of the future and cannot plan for it much.”(Chamberlain, n.p.)

I looked deep into his eyes and I knew he was telling the truth, “but I know that my family is safe for now. Thank you!” I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Joshua Chamberlain whispered in my ear as I hugged him, “We pass now quickly from each other's sight; but I know full well that where beyond these passing scenes you shall be, there will be Heaven.”(Chamberlain, n.p.

I pulled back and smiled. “I will see you again soon, right?”

“Of course my girl, of course,” he turned to the dancing crowd; raising his voice he said, “Kuaga I wataona wewe tena!”

The group said as one, “Kuaga!” and continued dancing.

Joshua rose and left the dark cellar which no longer felt dark at all.