Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 THREE WEEKS EARLIER LATE AFTERNOON KONX'S FARM, OAK RIDGE, VIRGINIA Thomas crept slowly toward the squirrel. It was fat and would make a fine supper. Just thinking about it made his stomach rumble. Times were tough on the farm. His owner, Mr. Knox, could barely feed his horses — or his slaves. Thomas was just about to snare the squirrel when his little sister's voice sang out. "Thomas!" The squirrel darted away. Thomas turned toward Birdie, fuming. She was only five years old, but she knew better than to

yell when he was trying to hunt! But then there she was, with her crooked grin and twiggy legs, rushing toward him. His heart turned to mush. "Look what I caught!" she said proudly, holding out her cupped hands. Inside was a little green snake, covered with mud. "Isn't it beautiful?" she said. Thomas had to smile. That was Birdie: Give her a grimy little snake, and she'd see a butterfly. Birdie held up her hands and looked at the baby snake, putting her face so close Thomas thought she might kiss it. "All right," she said to the snake. "I'm going to let you go now." She crouched down and released it onto the dirt. They watched as the creature streaked away, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

Thomas wondered: Would he and Birdie ever be as free as that snake? They'd been born slaves on this farm. Their mama had died here when Birdie was a baby. And two summers ago their cousin Clem had been sold away to a plantation down in Mississippi, where slaves were worked half to death. Clem was only seventeen at the time, but he'd been almost like a father to them after Mama died. He'd watched over them, cared for them, protected them. And he'd taught Thomas about freedom. He said that not far from here, in the states up north, slavery was illegal. People there believed it was evil. Clem told stories about slaves who'd run away from their owners. They'd followed the North Star, the brightest star in the sky. They'd traveled for days and days and made it to freedom. They were brave enough to run through dark forests and snake-filled swamps. They were clever enough to outsmart the slave catchers, who

tracked them with ferocious dogs that could smell them from miles away. "But then they make it to freedom, just like we will one day," Clem would say, his eyes flashing like tiny torches. "One day we will run." He'd close his eyes. "Picture it, Thomas," he'd say. "Picture it in your mind. Can't you see us? Can't you see us all together?" And Thomas could see it, bright pictures that filled his mind and gave him a flickering feeling of hope in his heart. But then Clem was taken, and those pictures went dark. Just thinking about Clem gave Thomas a searing pain, even worse than the lash of Mr. Knox's whip. Now the only picture in his mind was one of Clem being dragged away in chains. "Are you sad, Thomas?" Birdie said, looking up at him.

He put his hand on her head. "How could I be sad with you here with me?" he said. With Clem gone, it was up to Thomas to make Birdie feel safe. "I'm just thinking about how to catch us a nice supper," he said. He sent Birdie back to their shack to weed their garden. But just a few minutes later she was back. She was breathing hard, her eyes wide and scared. Was she hurt? "Those men are here," she whispered, grabbing Thomas's hand. "What men?" Thomas said. Hardly anyone came to the farm anymore. Mrs. Knox was dead. Mr. Knox's two sons were gone, fighting in the war. "Those bad men," Birdie said. "The ones who took Clem." Thomas's heart cracked open. "I heard them talking," Birdie said, her words choked by tears. "They've come for you!"

Thomas heard voices from across the field; Mr. Knox calling for him. "Boy!" Mr. Knox was yelling. "I need you now!" Thomas stood there, frozen. He heard Clem's voice in his mind. Run! Thomas grabbed Birdie. And like that little snake, Thomas and Birdie disappeared into the shadowy forest.