Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs. The books, or the T.V. show. But I do own this idea! So don't take it! *Growls* By the way, this takes place in the 1800s in America, so there is mention of slavery. I don't mean to offend anyone in any way, but if I do, or did, I apologize. I'm just writing what comes to my head! Really! Please don't get mad at me! Please? Well, with all that said… I hope you enjoy my story!
Astringent ExistenceStory By Tic-Tac
Chapter one
"And this," Rachel Berenson said, "This is the letter T." She jabbed her finger pointedly at the letter written carefully on the handkerchief. Illuminated by the flickering candle, each letter seemed to be engulfed in shadows. The flame shivered and stood still. Cassie looked away, almost in tears.
"I don't know Miz Rachel, I don't know." She said. Rachel sighed and tugged at the collar of her dress in annoyance.
"Cassie, I'm not 'Miss Rachel'. Call me Rachel. And you do know. You can learn. Think of it Cassie! You and I, together, off this wretched foundation. We could be free! I wouldn't have to be so polite to everyone and act proper, and you, Cassie, would be free of slavery!" Rachel glanced at the barn door and fidgeted with the hem of her dress, counting the stitches to pass the awkward silence. Cassie looked at Rachel, wide-eyed.
"But, Master…" She started, shaking, "He whips slaves who go against his rules."
Rachel daintily waved a hand to dismiss the matter. She sighed again, heavily, and stood up, brushing the hay from her stockings. She helped Cassie to her feet, folded the handkerchief, and stuffed it into her pocket. She flattened the creases on her dress and turned to Cassie with a frown.
"Listen," she said, "Father won't whip you. But he will if he catches us in here. So, off to bed now. I'll see you tomorrow." Rachel said. Finally, both girls parted with smiles and a quick hug. Rachel sighed, "One day Cassie. One day we'll both be free." Cassie smiled hopefully. Her face shining, she sprinted lightly towards her quarters near the cotton fields without making so much as a whisper.
Rachel lifted up their makeshift table – an old, smoothed log – and placed it in the corner of the barn. One of the horses gave a snort of surprise as she passed. Rachel put a finger to her lips and stroked the horse lovingly. The mare quickly calmed and Rachel grinned, parting the horse's mane with her fingers. She rubbed her hand down the mare's copper-colored coat and patted her nose gently. Finally, the horse dozed off again.
More quietly this time, Rachel picked up the flickering candle and moved her hands away from the melting wax. She absentmindedly pushed a lock of golden hair from her face and moved down the barn corridor, picking up her feet and listening for noises other than the soft breathing of the horses around her.
As she crept silently along, Rachel watched the candle, free and independent, acting of it's own will, and its own will alone. She sighed and clutched her hands angrily.
"Why can't I be like you?" She asked the flame in a whisper. It didn't answer. It just continued its strange and eerie dance; slowly eating away at the wick, bite by patient bite. Rachel cried inwardly.
She was so proud of Cassie, so happy in the presence of her friend. Her only true friend. But Cassie was black, whilst Rachel was white. That made a world of difference. It was a barrier that seemed as strong as a brick wall. They were two young girls yelling on each side, only heard because of little cracks in the wall's surface. Why it had to be that way, Rachel didn't know. All she knew is that it had been that way before she was born. Before her grandparents were born.
It was a tradition Rachel was willing to disobey for her friend.
Rachel, with cautious steps, slowly climbed the creaky stairs. Her bare feet, slick with sweat, slid on the wooden steps.
Slavery was horrible enough, but why also enslave women too? Rachel was angry once again, thinking about her father's request. No, not request. Order.
Why should I marry? Because you said so? Rachel thought, glaring at her feet. I don't even love the boy! You just want me to marry him so that you can get richer! Why should I comply?
But, even with pleading and begging, she couldn't stop her father. Rachel had thought about running away, but what would she do? What could she do? How could she leave poor Cassie to be beaten and whipped by her father? No. She couldn't. She would have to stick with it and wait. Rachel wasn't known to be a coward. She wouldn't become one now.
Dosing the flame of her candle with her hand, Rachel slipped quietly into her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, breathed a sigh of relief, and blew out the candle. The wick still burnt with a reddish glow.
One day she would escape from this place. She would escape to the north with Cassie, and they would be free together. They would be friends that could only be parted by death. Not by injustice.
If only Cassie would become literate. Rachel knew that if they got to the north, Cassie would have to declare herself free. Which would mean court. A place of justice. Cassie's case would be much quicker and easier if she could learn to read and write. Much quicker…
Rachel balled her hands into fists.
Those Yankees better let Cassie do as she pleases.
"We'll soon be free, Cassie, we'll soon be free."
Chapter two
Rachel woke up when she heard knocking at the door. She sat up, leaned back, and pulled the covers over herself protectively.
"Come in." She said with a yawn. A middle-aged black woman stepped into the room, her hands folded over her stomach. Her black hair was pulled into a tight bun and she walked in carefully and quietly. Rachel felt a stab of pity. She quickly forced a smile.
"Hello Maggie," She said, smiling. Maggie gave a quick smile back.
"Mistress, your cousin is arriving soon. Master has asked to get you ready for his arrival." Maggie said. As she picked out a dress for Rachel, Rachel felt happiness she hadn't felt in a long time. She loved her cousin Jake very much. They had formed a special bond over the last few years, always telling each other secrets and sharing stories behind their parents' backs. She couldn't wait to see him.
Finally, Maggie abandoned her search and held up a light blue dress. Rachel grinned, trying to hide a grimace. She liked the dress all right, but one cannot wear a corset without feeling trapped. She sighed and stepped in front of the mirror. Another day, another dress.
Rachel swallowed her pride and allowed Maggie to help her get ready for Jake's arrival.
"You look as perdy as a picture, Miz Rachel," Maggie said finally, lacing up the top of the corset as carefully as she could. She gave one last pull, and skillfully tied the laces together. Rachel bit her lip and tried not to cry out in pain.
Maggie walked over to the dress, picked it up, and unfolded it. For the last touch, she slid it over Rachel's head. Rachel thrust her arms through the slits at the sides and smiled at Maggie. She was glaring at her inside. Rachel knew it wasn't Maggie's fault that she had to wear the wretched corset, but she had to blame someone. Could she actually hate her own father?
Yes, said a voice deep down inside her, yes you could.
Sighing, Rachel turned to Maggie.
"Thank you for your help. I must continue to get ready before I come downstairs. May I ask what time my cousin is scheduled to arrive?" Rachel asked politely.
"Noon, miss. He should be arriving at twelve o'clock sharp." Maggie gave a last curtsy and rushed out the door, closing it behind her. Rachel picked up a comb and brushed her blonde hair, allowing it to spill down her shoulders in a natural wave. As soon as she finished detangling all the knots and snarls in her hair, Rachel put on her shoes and rushed out of her room, looking at her clock as she sped past. Her stomach gave a strange flop of excitement.
Jake was due to arrive any minute.
As soon as Rachel stepped into the hallway, she slowed her pace and strained her ears to listen for any sign of her cousin. Just as she was about to begin her descent down the stairs, she heard a familiar clop clop of horse hoofs on gravel, and the creaking of wheels turning in their midst. Rachel grinned and raced down the stairs, across the porch, and out into the driveway. She recognized her cousin at once.
"Jake!" She called, waving her hands frantically. She saw him turn his head. He gave her a grin and walked over to where she was standing. He gave her a hug.
"How have you been, Rachel? I have waited all week to see you! My very favorite cousin!" He said, winking at her. Rachel rolled her eyes then looked around to make sure no one saw her acting 'unladylike'.
"Fine, thank you." She said happily, "I'm glad you came, I was bored out of my wits," She whispered in his ear. He laughed then turned around.
"Rachel, have you met my friend Marco?" For the first time, Rachel noticed a short boy standing behind Jake. He had dark skin, dark eyes, and dark hair. Rachel must have looked surprised, because Jake leaned closer and whispered in her ear.
"He used to be an indentured servant. He was an immigrant to the United States when he was just a little boy. But," Jake said happily, "Now he's free to live with his father and mother. They got him out of working." Rachel heard relief in his voice. Suddenly she longed that she and Cassie could be free like Jake and Marco.
Marco stepped forward and held out his arms. Rachel looked at him strangely.
"What?" He said, "No hug for me?" Rachel and Jake laughed. Rachel shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Marco." She said, grinning.
Chapter three
"Hurry boy!" Master yelled, beer bottle in hand. Spit flew from his mouth and drenched the boy with saliva. The boy wiped his hand across his face, leaving a dirty smudge behind. Master advanced, holding the bottle above his head threateningly. Laughing, he pulled the cork out with his teeth and gulped down more whiskey, swaying and laughing like the maniac he was. As the boy sped out of the house, he could hear Master whistling and singing a tune off pitch.
Sighing, the boy picked up a broom and began to work, sweeping and dusting the barn corridor.
How long Tobias? He thought, how long have you worked for this cruel master?
Tobias shoved the dirt and dust out into the grass outside the barn. As he did so, he fingered the coins in his pockets. He only received a few pennies for his manual labor, but he did get paid. It was better than being a slave.
Tobias thought back to his mother. He did that often. He had become a servant for her. For her he had wasted his life. He drooped and kept working, back straining and feet aching with fatigue.
His mother and himself had lived a peaceful life when one day, Tobias's mother developed a deadly disease. Only later did he find out that she was slowly dying from cancer. Without a healthy legal guardian, Tobias had been forced to work for a living and earn his pay until he was an adult. Eighteen years old.
Just four more years, he thought sarcastically, leaning on his broom. Tobias didn't know how much more he could take. Four years… that seemed like an eternity.
He had thought of running, but what was the use? Master had bloodhounds that could find him within hours of his escape, and then Master would be awaiting him back at the house. Waiting to punish him.
Not to mention Mother. She needed him, especially now.
It was no use.
Tobias brushed his dirty-blonde hair out of his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He breathed deeply and looked at his work through his intertwined fingers. He pulled his hands away and perfected everything, and walked into the house cautiously. He spotted Master easily, shouting, yelling and stomping inside.
"M-Master?" Tobias said slowly, "I finished." He cringed, waiting for a blow of any kind. Master just laughed and slapped him on the back.
"Good job boy!" He yelled enthusiastically, "Good work. Yes, great job!" He swayed, drunk, and handed Tobias two copper pennies. Tobias nodded and took advantage of Master's good mood.
"Master," He said hopefully, "May I take a break?" Master nodded and his head flopped down on his chest and snored. Tobias shrank back in disgust. His breath was the dull, putrid stench of alcohol that Tobias smelled so often, and he hated it.
But for once, he was thankful that Master got drunk.
As quietly as he could, Tobias walked passed Master toward the kitchen, stopping only long enough to hear his breathing, short and shallow.
From off the table Tobias grabbed some bread and cheese, and even managed to drink a cup of cow's milk, a rare treat for the boy. He drained every last drop and stuffed the bread and cheese into his pant pocket. He pocketed the cup also. He had no intention of staying here until Master woke up.
He was going to explore.
Tobias crept to the door and quietly opened it. The breath of summer air felt good and warm on his face. He breathed it in and sighed. The air was sweet and kind to his worn-out body.
Tobias made sure Master was still asleep. He was. Tobias's heart gave a strange flop. He knew his master would severely punish him if he found out Tobias had left, but Tobias felt it would be worth it. It would be worth it to go out and explore the world he grew up in and be free for a while. Free to make his own choices and decisions.
Tobias took a deep breath and ran down the road away from the miserable, disgusting place he called home.
Chapter four
They all sat down at the table out on the lawn. It was a gorgeous lawn of freshly trimmed grass and spongy moss. When she was little, Rachel would run and run on the grass, pretending she was a unicorn riding the clouds. Of course, that was a long time ago. Still, Rachel liked to think of the grass as a special, almost sacred place where dreams come true.
Or, in this case, where dreams were shot down and buried.
There were nine guests at the family reunion.
Or not-so family reunion, Rachel thought bitterly, sipping her tea and glaring at the person beside her beneath her hat. Her lip curled and she clutched her hand under the table. She hated him thoroughly and wholly.
And yet, he was to be her husband.
Rachel's mother and father both had praised and admired him, saying how handsome, smart, and charming he was. Rachel saw nothing in him. Nothing at all. She found him to be nothing but a show-off and a snob. Not to mention conceited.
Rachel's father stood up and smiled. Everybody stopped talking and drinking, and turned their attention to him.
"I have gathered all of our family here today," He smiled at the man sitting next to Rachel. She had to stop herself from gagging as her father went on, "To announce the engagement of my daughter, Rachel, to this wonderful man, John. I give them all my blessings, and let this reunion be a merry one!" He sat down, and everyone clapped. Rachel clapped too, trying to hide the look of pure hate that crossed her face. She shot a forced smile at John. He smiled back, obviously pleased with himself.
Rachel managed to continue breathing. Her throat felt dry and stopped up, and she swallowed to keep her voice from cracking. She saw Jake send her a look of confusion. Of course he didn't know. She had never told anyone how much she hated John, not even Cassie.
No one would understand how it would be to marry John. He was older than her, by at least six years, and he was self-centered and greedy. Rachel glared at her tea, wondering what her father was thinking, marrying her to a grown man at the age of fourteen.
Well, she thought, I'll be married at the ripe age of fifteen. Rachel shuddered at the thought of having children. She was strong, but not strong enough against John's brute strength.
Rachel got up, smoothed down her dress, and pushed in her chair.
"Father," she said, "I'm going to take a walk. I need to think about wedding preparations. Don't worry, I'll be home before dark." She saw him nod his head. As Rachel walked slowly across the lawn, she felt a hand on her arm. She spun around and was face to face with John. She set her jaw and smiled grimly.
"What? What do you want?" She said, almost harshly. John smiled.
"Rachel, Rachel," John said, "Did I say I wanted something? No, I was just coming to escort you on your walk."
"I would like to be alone, thank you."
"Oh, really? Evening is not a safe place for women. Especially attractive, young women." He said, pulling Rachel close to him and stroking her golden hair. She grabbed his arm and smiled, hiding her anger beneath.
"I can take care of myself." She said firmly. She narrowed her eyes. She let go of his arm and walked away, eyes burning with hate. John didn't follow her. He shrugged and went back to the table full of chattering guests.
As soon as Rachel was out of sight of the guests and the lawn, she began to run. She kicked off her shoes, put them underneath a fallen log, and ran barefooted down the lane, not knowing where to go, or where she would end up.
Chapter five
Tobias pulled out his bread and began to nibble at the crust. It was mostly stale, but it tasted better than most of the rations he had eaten. He tore off a bite-sized piece and threw it into his mouth, chewing slowly and savoring the taste in his mouth.
As he walked down the road, he saw a pathway forking off the road into the forest. It wasn't a deer trail; there were no tracks. No, it was manmade, but it hadn't been used in years. Moss and leaves littered the trail. Curious, Tobias swallowed the last of his bread and slipped through. He put his arm in front of his face to shield from the thorns suddenly scratching at his clothes and arms. As he made his way through, he realized that instead of growing darker as he expected, the pathway opened up into a little grove and sunlight shone down on him, warming his entire body. Tobias smiled and looked at the cloudless sky. A hawk flew overhead, screaming loudly.
He pushed some hair out of his eyes and focused on the bushes around him.
He grinned, walked over to the nearest one, and plucked its fruit and plopped it in his mouth. He chewed it, and the sweet juice spilled from the berry and ran down his parched throat.
Tobias closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he had eaten a ripe blackberry. It seemed like forever to him.
He reached out to pick another berry.
Chapter six
Rachel ran until she could run no more. Finally she stopped, heart pounding in her ears, sweat drenching her forehead. She pulled the sleeve of her dress to her head and wiped the moisture off, breathing heavily.
She bit her tongue, willing herself not to cry out. If someone found her this far from her father's plantation, she would be marched right back without even a say in the matter.
Rachel began to walk along the road, wringing her hands. Although it was sunny and quite warm, Rachel felt cold and clammy. She wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and walked on.
All of a sudden, Rachel stopped and heard voices. The voices were gruff and deep and they were coming closer. Rachel's heart stopped in mid-beat. It started to pound wildly as adrenaline rushed into her system. Rachel heard the sound of a whip and the creaking of a cart. The voices grew nearer.
With all her remaining strength, Rachel sprinted down the road, her feet occasionally stinging from rocks that lodged themselves between her bare toes. She kept on, heart pounding and lungs gasping for air.
As Rachel rounded a corner, she saw her escape. A little path laden with sticks and brambles lay before her. Her heart surged with hope. She remembered this path. She had traveled it many a time with her grandmother, hoping for ripe, sweet, blackberries for blackberry pies.
Without a backwards glance, she ran through the thorn bushes with her arm over her eyes. Rachel's skin and clothing were the perfect targets for the thorns, and many grabbed at her as she swept past. However, she didn't slow down, but ran full speed out into the clearing.
But Rachel, overcome by longing for a better life, kept running. The tears that were held in for so long squeezed out of her eyes, lids closed. Her breathing came in little, short gasps.
All of a sudden, she hit something solid. She tumbled to the ground and hit her forehead on the hard dirt. Dazed, Rachel tried to focus her eyes, and found herself staring into the eyes of a boy leaning over her. The boy rubbed his forehead and squinted at her.
"Are you hurt Miss?" The boy asked, looking concerned, "You took a nasty fall there."
Rachel tensed up. She stood up tentatively, and brushed the leaves from her dress. She glared at the boy, as if he did something wrong.
"I'm fine." She snapped, "Now if you'll leave me be." Rachel took a step forward and shivered, suddenly cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned back to the boy and held out her hand apologetically. He seemed nice enough.
"I apologize," Rachel said, "I wasn't watching where I was walking." The boy grinned and shook her hand.
"It didn't seem like you were walking," He said, looking at her with piercing blue eyes. Rachel stiffened and pulled her hand away.
"I…I," she sputtered, backing up. The boy smiled at her and brushed some dirty-blonde hair out of his eyes. He looked thoughtful.
"You know," he said, suddenly serious, "We're both here for the same reason."
"How's that?" Rachel asked sharply.
"We're both here to get away." The boy looked at her and grinned.
Rachel was startled that he knew that much. She just looked at the ground.
"What's your name?" She asked suddenly, plucking some grass and pulling it up by its roots.
"Tobias. Yours?"
"Rachel." She looked at the sky. It was beginning to grow dark with every passing minute. For the first time, she noticed that the boy, Tobias, had very thin, shabby clothes that looked like he had been wearing them all his life. He caught her looking at him, and she flushed, embarrassed and ashamed. How could she be so upset with her life when Tobias was probably living in this very orchard? Tobias gave her a small smile.
"I'm an servant," he said sadly as if he were reading her mind, "My mother developed a deadly disease, and I've been working for a master all my life to earn money for doctors. They say I'm a servant, but my master treats me like a slave." Tobias lowered his eyes to the ground.
"What are you doing here?" Rachel asked cautiously, trying to allow Tobias some dignity.
"My master was drunk. I thought I would explore a bit, and then I stumbled upon this orchard. And then, well, you stumbled upon me." He looked at Rachel, a smile playing across his lips, "I don't mind. I could use some company."
Tobias looked at her, "You?"
Rachel choked on her words.
"I, well," She began, "I'm getting married." Tobias looked at her in amazement. He scratched his head.
"Well, congratulations." He said flatly. Rachel glared at the grass and began to rip it out in clumps.
"No, it's not like that," Rachel said angrily, "My father wants his money, and I absolutely hate him. Besides, he's about six years older than me. I guess, I guess I'm frightened of him." She sat down on the ground, picking at her dress absentmindedly. Tobias kneeled next to her.
"Oh." He said, "That's pretty rough."
"Yes. Listen Tobias; don't tell anybody anything about what I just said. Please. You're the only one that knows." Rachel pleaded.
"I won't tell a soul." He said, smiling at her, "Nobody will ever know." Rachel glanced at the sky. It was getting darker, and instead of a warm breeze blowing, a cold wind chilled her to the bones. She needed to go, and yet, she wanted to stay. She wanted to stay and talk to this boy, to tell him everything. To find comfort in him.
But she knew it couldn't be.
Rachel stood up and brushed her long hair back behind her shoulders. She and Tobias just stood there for a minute, watching each other. Tobias smiled a slow smile.
"I'll see you around Rachel," He said, eyes locked on hers. Rachel nodded.
"Where?"
"Right here. Same time tomorrow. Will that work, Miss?" Tobias asked, smiling.
He held out his hand, and Rachel shook it.
Chapter seven
Tobias trudged down the road, kicking stones as he passed. That girl, Rachel, she was so beautiful. Like an angel. But she wasn't helpless, not at all. Her husband-to-be didn't deserve her. Nobody did.
Tobias remembered how Rachel had looked at him. She had trusted him, like they were old friends just stopping by to say hello.
His heart gave a strange thump. Then he remembered. She was getting married. He was mad at Rachel's husband-to-be. How could he marry a fourteen-year-old girl when he himself was in his twenties? What kind of person did that?
A very rich person, Tobias thought, answering himself.
Finally, Tobias got onto Master's gravel road. Instead of heading towards Master's house, Tobias followed a small pathway to a little cottage not far away. As he reached the house, he carefully opened the door and stepped inside. He heard labored breathing in the gloom.
Tobias reached out in the darkness, struck a match, and allowed the flame to move on to a candlewick. The candle's flame provided just enough light so he could see his mother. Tobias reached out and gently touched his mother's arm.
"Hello Mother," He said, squeezing her hand tenderly. Loren opened her eyes and gave him a smile creased with age and fatigue.
"Tobias," She whispered, cupping his face in the palm of her hand, "My boy."
"Did the doctors come to see you today?"
Loren sighed wearily, "They can not do anything to stop the cancer. I am dying." Tobias's eyes filled with tears. He looked at the floor.
"I'm sorry Mother," He said, tears glistening in his eyes. Loren smiled again.
"Don't be Tobias. Don't be. You've been wonderful to me. I wish I could have been a better mother, but the cancer… it is sapping my strength." Loren closed her eyes in suppressed sorrow. Tobias walked over to a corner of the small cottage and retrieved a chair. He set it down next to his mother and held her hand, praying, hoping she could get better soon.
When his mother drifted off into a night of slumber, Tobias sank to his seat, unshed tears glistened in his eyes.
"Don't leave me Mother. Don't leave…"
Sorry for the cliffhanger… *hehe* I think I've got the story figured out… hmmm…. I'll post the next chap a.s.a.p!