James Grippando - Leapholes

Ryan watched as the two plowmen unhitched the mule from the harness and led it to the old man's wagon. The animal drank eagerly from the tub. When the mule had taken its fill, the old man handed the slaves a battered tin cup.

Then the slaves drank from the mule's tub.

One by one, they came to the wagon, dipped their cup into the tub, and took a drink. They looked very thirsty, but they seemed to know better than to ask for a refill. It was a well-worn routine. Each slave trudged across the field, drank, and immediately returned to work. The two big men working the plow were first. The women and girls were next. The boys followed. Finally, from the farthest corner of the field, came a tired, old man.

Ryan watched him carefully. He was at least a hundred yards away, but that gait was familiar. That mop of gray hair was unmistakable. And those basketball shoes were a dead giveaway.

Ryan could barely speak. "That's Hezekiah."

"I knew he'd be here," said Abigail. "This here's the Barrow farm. Old Man Barrow lost a whole bunch of slaves last year when he rented them out to a farmer in Illinois. Slavery is illegal there, and an Illinois judge gave them all their freedom. But now with the Dred Scott case, the U. S. Supreme Court said slaves is property who can never be free. So Mr. Barrow sent out posses to fetch his slaves back."

"But Hezekiah was never his slave. He was never anyone's slave."

"It probably came down to Mr. Barrow's word against Hezekiah's. Guess who the police are going to believe?"

For a brief instant, Ryan was thinking of his father again. Could that have been what made him plead guilty, the futility of one man's word against another's? No way, thought Ryan. This situation was completely different. This was slavery in the nineteenth century. Hezekiah was truly the innocent condemned.

"Let's git," said Abigail. "Before they see us."

She led them down the hill, back toward the wagon. Ryan trailed behind and pulled Jarvis aside. He didn't want Abigail to overhear. When she was far enough ahead of them, he said, "This is going to be tougher than I thought. I just realized something."

"What?" said Jarvis.

"We need a leaphole to get back. I don't have any. You don't have any. And Hezekiah doesn't, either."

"How do you know he doesn't?"

"Think about it. Would he be busting his back working in a cotton field, drinking from a mule's bucket, if all he had to do was pull a leaphole from his pocket and pop himself back to the twenty-first century?"

Jarvis didn't answer, but Ryan saw no inkling of disagreement.

They caught up with Abigail and climbed into the wagon. With a clipped giddy-up, Abigail had them rolling forward again. She pulled a U-turn around a tree, and they retraced the ruts in the road from their own wagon wheels.

"Why are we going back?" asked Ryan.

"There's an old barn in the next county. Belongs to an abolitionist. We'll rest there till nightfall. When it's good and dark and everyone's asleep, we'll come back on foot for Hezekiah."

Then what? thought Ryan. He had no leapholes. They had no way to get back to the twenty-first century. Ryan said, "Sounds like a good plan."

"Oh, yes. A girl's got to have a plan."

Ryan looked away, thinking. "This boy could sure use one, too."

Their wagon stopped at the fork in the dirt road. A girl was standing in front of them, blocking their path. Behind her, the setting sun was hanging low in the sky. Ryan squinted, but he couldn't make out the face. Blasts of bright orange and yellow sunshine nearly blinded him.

"Ryan L'new? Is that you?" she said.

Ryan recognized the voice, but he could not believe his ears. "Kaylee?"

"Is there anyone else on this planet who calls you Ryan L'new?"

It seemed too good to be true. Ryan jumped down from the wagon. He ran to her, but they stopped short of hugging one another. For a split second, a big, friendly embrace had seemed like a good idea, but somehow he lost his nerve. He simply smiled and said, "Boy, are we glad to see you!"

Abigail asked him, "She a friend of yours from back home?"

"Uh, yeah, right," said Ryan. "Back home." As in another place, another time, more than a 150 years from now.

Abigail decided it was time to let the horse rest a spell before the final push to the abolitionist's barn. Jarvis gave Kaylee a clipped hello, then pulled his hat over his eyes and caught some shuteye in the back of the wagon. While Abigail tended to the horse, Ryan and Kaylee sat beneath a big oak tree and talked, just the two of them.

"What are you doing here?" said Ryan.

"I promised your mother that I would find you."

"You talked to my mother?"

"Yes. After you and Jarvis disappeared, your mom told the police that you were kidnapped. I begged my mom to take me to your house so that we could assure your mother that Hezekiah is no kidnapper. My mom refused to let me get involved, but I couldn't let your mom suffer like that. So I snuck over and talked to her myself."

"Did my mom tell the police about leapholes?"

"Yes. But they didn't believe her. As far as they're concerned, it's all a bunch of nonsense. The cops think you ran away, and they think your mom is too ashamed to admit it."

"So, you told my mom I didn't run away?"

"Of course. I felt so bad for her. The rumors around town were just awful. I wanted her to know that you didn't run away."

"Does she believe you?"

"She didn't at first. But I bet she does now. I used my leaphole right in front of her."

"How?"

"She had the book that you and Jarvis used. She showed me the page you were on. I went to the same page and, well, here I am."

Kaylee removed the law book from her backpack and gave it to Ryan. "I brought it with me," she said. "Hezekiah never does that, because he's an expert on return leapholes. But for a rookie like me, the easiest way to return safely is to bring the book along."

Ryan turned to the marked page. It was definitely from Hezekiah's library. But now that Ryan had seen those slaves marching down Main Street, bound and chained, the book seemed almost holy. The name of the case was printed across the top of the page: Scott v. Sanford. That was the Dred Scott decision. It was like Hezekiah had told Ryan the first time they'd met: These books were filled with real people. Dred Scott had lived his life in slavery. Sanford was the man who had owned him. Case books were so much more than words on paper.

Ryan closed the book. "It's a long case. Over fifty pages. I guess that's how we all ended up here, even though Hezekiah entered through a different page."

"Right. Different page, but it was still the same case."

"But you should have landed in St. Louis. How did you know to look for me here?"

"The first thing I did when I landed in St. Louis was buy a newspaper. The story of Hezekiah was on page three of the Daily Morning Herald. It said he was taken back to the Barrow plantation. I knew you'd be looking for Hezekiah. This is the only road to the Barrow plantation. So I caught a ride in the back of a feed wagon, got off here, and waited."

Ryan was so glad to see her that he almost forgot the most important thing. Then it came to him-the trip home. "You do have a return leaphole, right?"

"Of course. Never leave home without one."

"Whew," said Ryan. "Jarvis and I don't have any. And we don't think Hezekiah would still be planting cotton if he had one in his back pocket. Can we all use yours to get back?"

"Sure. That's what I'm here for."

"Awesome!"

She turned serious. "But I should warn you. This is the only one I have left. When you become a Legal Eagle, you get one leaphole for the journey out, and one to come back. I can't earn any more until I get my law degree. Those are the rules."