Chapter 84: Indentured Girl

I had lost sight of the wagon Corporal Freeman was driving when the girl came running out of the woods like a pack of demons was chasing her. She scrambled up to the driver's seat, grabbed my arm and cried, "Don' let him take me back."

I clucked at the horses and shook the reins a bit, enjoying the feel of her soft, young body against mine. She wore a gaping dress of some coarse material, ragged at the hem and flapping about her bulbous chest, al its buttons missing.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Jus' ran, thas' all. Ran."

"Why?" I lifted my arm so she could get closer.

"His damn'd boys. That was the las' straw, his stupid boys."

"Come on now, calm down and explain."

She took a deep breath and looked back the way we had come. "I'm 'dentured," she said, "Four years left on m'paper. Master, he rogered me regular as clockwork, first a'every damn month, nasty ol' bugger."

I held my peace and watched the road, ears pricked.

"Wanted t'get me wif child, 'e did. Make me do 'nother year."

I nodded, understanding the law.

"Then, then, las' night he done brung his boys to my bed, bof a'them hounds, and he sicced 'em on me. I fought an' bit and yelled and then I ran."

"How old were the boys?" I asked, holding up my end of the conversation but mainly enjoying the feel of her body clamped to me. She had both arms wrapped about my torso.

"Dunno. Fat's one likely twelve or so; t'other's a half-wit. He's bigger, but the younger one's meaner. Their things ain't big as my finger." She held up her forefinger to show me.

"Didn't they chase after you?"

"I dun'know. I jus' ran."

"How old are you now?"

She sat quiet for a few seconds so I suspected she would be lying. "Eighteen las' birfday," she said, nodding vigorously. She might have been sixteen.

Hoofbeats heralded the next chapter of this tale. A hatless man on a splavined horse and two youngsters on another wornout animal suddenly filled the road before us. The older man raised his hand while the boys leered at the girl and one made a lewd gesture. She clung to me like a leech.

"Hol' on there," the man called as I reined up. "You got some'in thas mine, that sour piece a'ass thas' huggin' you."

"Who says?" I yelled at him, setting the brake.

"Got the damn paper right here," he cried, waving the long contract at me. "All signed an' sealed, got her mark on it."

The younger boy mounted the off wheel and grabbed for the girl, but I flicked the whip at him and he retreated. "That paper say you can roger her any time you want?" I asked him as he came up beside me on his disreputable horse. The poor animal looked as though it had not been groomed for a decade.

"None a'yer bleedin' business," the man said, spitting tobacco juice on the wagon wheel.

"I'll buy her paper," I told him quietly, keeping an eye on his two boys.

"Ain't fer sale. She does it right smart when she's tame, damn her hide."

"How much?" I said, flush with British officers' coins.

The man turned to his sons. "Davy," he yelled, "aw'right if'n I sells 'er?" The bigger boy nodded, his mouth gapping, eyes dull and unfocused. "Ten pounds hard money, fifty paper."

"Give you two pounds for her contract," I said, "if she isn't pregnant."

"She ain't," he said, "been trying for a year."

"All right," I said, digging in my fat purse, "two pounds, silver." I held up the coins.

He licked his cracked lips. "Four," he said, "no less."

I pried the girl's hands from my arm. "You can have her," I said, pushing her away as she wailed.

"Make it three," the man said. "Three's the price." He pulled the horse's head about. "She ain't much of a worker, but she's a devil in bed."

I fished out another heavy coin, and he held out his hand with the folded contract in it. He smiled, bit the big coins, waved at his boys and galloped off. I handed the girl her indenture.

"What's this for?" she said, as I got us moving again.

"You are free," I told her, digging out some smaller coins and handing them to her without looking. "Here's your freedom dues."

"No," she sobbed. "You keep it. I don' wanna be free. I ain' ready t'be free."

"You got a pocket," I said, "put that money and paper in it. Fold it up. You're free, just like the country."

"No, I ain't," she cried, stamping her feet. "We ain' free, none a'us."

"Well," I told her, 'we will be. Won't be long."

"Ha," she laughed, a bark, and she folded her arms over her chest and stuck out her lower lip.

An hour or so later I spotted Ewell's wagon in a stable yard and pulled in beside him. I saw to the animals, used the necessary and took the barefoot girl inside. Corporal Freeman had obviously been there a while and was well into his cups.

I plunked the girl down beside him and took a chair opposite. "This here is," I started to say. "What's your name girl?"

"None a'yer business," she said, mouth mashed down to a thin line.

I pulled the paper from her pocket and unfolded it. She tried to grab it back, and I elbowed her away while the corporal watched, amused and puzzled. "Says she is one Patricia Andrews of Bristol, age fifteen when this was made."

"They calls me Patty," she said with a small grin.

"This is Corporal Freeman, Patty," I said, and they nodded to each other as some food and drink arrived for us. Freeman enjoyed the view down the front of the girl's dress while we ate then he said to me, "We'd bes' get back on the road. Y'wanna ride w'me, girl, 'stead this big ox?"

"Aw right," she said, taking his hand from her thigh.

"Y'know how to ride a cock horse?" Ewell asked, winking at me.

She shook her head, and he led her out. I paid the inn-keeper, and Freeman's wagon was out of sight by the time I was back on the road. A mile or so on, as I topped a rise, there she was, standing by the side of the road. I stopped and she climbed up, looking fierce about something.