A/N: Well my computer is back from the computer hospital, hardrive intact, so I can post again!

OHIO

Circe's Island

(Part 2)

"Well, Mr. Cartwright, you did not lie - Cincinnati is a charming city."

Ben glanced up from admiring the view of the Ohio over the rim of his coffee cup to meet her smiling eyes. "It is indeed. Almost as charming as the company."

Mrs. Chambers laughed, lifting her teacup. "Well, you were a wonderful guide. I can't thank you enough. I would have been so disappointed to have passed through without seeing a bit of it." She glanced at the clock on the wall of the small, snug tea room. "I suppose Lyle will be along any minute now. The train is in only three hours."

Ben nodded, his expression darkening slightly as he felt the slight crinkle of the telegrams tucked away inside his jacket pocket. "And we'll be on our way to Cleveland. I really owe you thanks. You've helped take my mind off of things a bit."

"Then that was my pleasure. Did you stay here long in your travels? When did you leave?"

"We were here a while." Ben paused as the round little waitress brought him more coffee and another plate of muffins. "We left in early spring - summered in Indiana." His eyebrows drew together slightly. "Now, that's something I hadn't thought about in years." He added a dollop of cream to his coffee, musing absently that there really was nothing in the city that could compare to cream from your own cow. He stirred it carefully, looked up to see Mrs. Chambers eyes resting on him with a pleasant question in them.

A smile quirked at her mouth. "I've pried so much already," she explained apologetically, "that it's become almost a habit now."

Ben chuckled softly in return. "Well, this one may not be such a pleasant story. The truth is that Adam and I snuk out of Cincinnati like criminals. It's entirely possible that there are still charges of some kind leveled against me here."

Mrs. Chambers placidly selected a muffin from the plate on the table. "You shock me very much," she said comfortably. "What nefarious criminal deeds are you guilty of? Or was Adam the guilty party?"

Ben leaned back in his chair, his eyes admiring the panoramic view of the waterfront through the plate glass window. "Now, Adam was precocious but I don't think he was capable of getting us into trouble with the law at the tender age of three." He hesitated. "Mrs. Chambers - "

"You know," she interrupted, "If you are going to divulge your criminal past to me, you might at least call me Katherine."

Ben smiled, but the smile was a little troubled. "I would be honored. Provided you agree to call me Ben."

She nodded. "Ben. A good, strong name. It suits you."

Ben sighed. "Mrs. - Katherine. I realize suddenly that I know very little about you. My story may shock you. If you prefer to keep your distance after hearing it, then I'll understand."

Mrs. Chambers lifted her brows delicately. "I find that very hard to imagine."

Ben gave her a piercing look. "Very well. But I did warn you." His eyes returned to the waterfront, remembering another waterfront seventeen years ago.

"I told you about my job as Assistant Harbor Master. About the smuggling that was so common at the time."

Katherine nodded encouragingly.

"It took on all kinds of forms - forms I'd barely imagined myself, though I suppose I'd heard of them. Not that I saw much of it - mine was the day shift and it was much less common during daylight hours. Jim Pierson worked the night shift most nights. One night he took sick, though - very suddenly - and the Harbor Master asked if I would be willing to take his shift. Night work paid a little extra - I figured, why not?" He paused, sipping his coffee, studying the view before him but seeing something else. "I brought Adam with me, of course, and settled him down with a pillow and blanket on a bench in the Watch House. He was pretty used to sleeping anywhere that was reasonably warm and dry so he was out like a light in no time. After that, the shank of the shift was usually just boring, compared to day shift. Much less traffic."

Now that he let himself remember, it was as vivid as yesterday. A clear, chilly night - the sky a panoply of stars. He had checked in an old barge - just cargo this time, no passengers - and was waiting for the captain to come complete his paperwork and perhaps chat for a bit - relieve the monotony. A stirring in the dark made him think the captain was on his way, then he noticed that the captain was not alone - three dark, barely discernible shadows followed him, bobbing silently in his wake.

Ben felt the hair lift from the back of his neck. Something was wrong - he could sense it.

He gave a quick glance at the shock of curly black hair peeking from the bundle of blankets, but Adam seemed deeply asleep. After a brief hesitation, he picked up the pistol from under the counter, checked to be sure it contained ball and powder and, slipping it under his coat, went outside - pulling the door to behind him without quite shutting it tight. He took three steps away from it, moving to meet the small, shadowy party.

The man in front had his hat pulled low over his forehead and stopped suddenly at the sight of him, looking unsure. He cleared his throat. "I be lookin' fer Jim Pierson?"

Ben let his hand rest on the reassuring weight of the pistol under his jacket. "Jim is sick tonight. I'm on duty. Something I can do for you?"

There was a pause, and the whole party shifted uneasily. Ben could sense their tension and exhaustion.

The man in front cleared his throat again. "Naw, well - we was just here ta say hello ta Jim - if he ain't around, we'll be on our way."

Ben didn't move from in front of him. "Odd time of night for visiting," he suggested.

Another uncomfortable tremor ran through the small party, the anxiety so palpable that it made the muscles at the base of Ben's neck ache.

"You came from a freighter - not a passenger boat," he pointed out quietly. "Are these stowaways?"

The man cleared his throat again, like a nervous tick. "Naw - what are ya sayin'? Of course not. Now, we ain't botherin' you none - we'll be on our way."

Ben tightened his grip on the pistol. "I am charged with the duty of watching this harbor. If your - friends - are entering illegally then it's my responsibility to stop you."

The silence was long and highly charged.

Ben set his teeth - there were at least four of them and one of him - he looked again - no, one looked to be a woman. Three against one, then…

The leader raised his hands placatingly. "Lookee, mister, we don't mean no man no harm. Just out fer a stroll. Just let us pass and you won't have no trouble from us."

Ben took a deep breath. "I can't do that. I have a responsibility to the Harbor Master. Now, either you state your business…" he looked at them more closely and realized suddenly why the other three were so difficult to see in the dark. They were Negroes. A very large young man, a tall, lean older man and a woman - all three looking thin, ragged and exhausted. He blinked in sudden realization. All the stories he'd heard - the rumors - suddenly rose up to meet him. "You're slaves," he murmured, hardly realizing he's spoken aloud.

"Not on this side of the Ohio, mistah," the older black man spoke in a voice hoarse with strain and exhaustion. "Not no mo', if you turn yo' head whiles we walks away."

Ben stared. Helping escaped slaves was against the law anywhere in the United States. Even slaves who made it to the north could be captured and returned to their masters. Harboring a slave or helping one to escape carried a severe penalty - sometimes even death. He wasn't really sure how he felt about slavery - hadn't ever had cause to give it much thought - but he had been charged with a job and he knew perfectly well how he felt about fulfilling his responsibilities. He glanced from one to the other measuringly. He was outnumbered, but they were exhausted. Maybe -

"Pa?"

The small treble voice struck an odd note in the middle of the standoff and Ben felt his heart tremble in his chest. He licked his lips and took a careful step to the side so he could still keep his adversaries in view and avoid turning his back on them, but could get a glimpse of the Watch House door as well.

Adam stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with one fist and dragging the blanket behind him with the other. "Pa?" he repeated sleepily.

Ben glanced at the group in front of him, suddenly feeling sick. "Adam," he instructed quietly, "go back inside."

He saw Adam glance dubiously over his shoulder at the shadowy interior of the Watch House and then back at him, hesitating. Ben thought he would choke on the heart that had somehow become firmly lodged in his throat. "Adam," he repeated, as calmly as he could manage, "do as I say, please. Go back inside."

Adam glanced over his shoulder again, fidgeted with the blanket, looked back at his father.

Ben thought he would scream in terror and frustration. Surely these people wouldn't harm a little boy? A child? He glanced back at them appraisingly.

"He's skeered to go in alone."

The soft, sweet voice surprised him, and he looked down a goodly ways to the woman huddled in the thin shawl. "Lord 'a mussy - he's jest a baby."

Adam's brows drew together. "I'm three, " he insisted, though his usual conviction sounded a little shaky.

An unexpected laugh rippled through the group and the tension eased some.

The woman looked past Ben to Adam, rubbing unconsciously at her arms for warmth. "I could - " she hesitated, then continued boldly, "I could sit with him - fer a bit - while you menfolks settles bizness…"

Ben shifted his feet. These people were desperate. How foolish would it be to let this total stranger sit with his son in the middle of such a volatile situation?

He looked down at her again. She had pushed the shawl away from her face and he saw her wistful, yearning expression, stretched with weariness and sadness. He paused. No matter how hard he tried, he could not imagine this woman hurting his son. He glanced back at Adam.

"Well…" Lord, how had he gotten himself into this situation? "He doesn't always take to strangers…"

But he knew she was right. Adam was used to waking up in strange places, but he wasn't used to waking up in them alone, and though he knew he would rather die than admit it to his father, Ben could tell that he was indeed frightened.

The woman walked past him as though drawn by a string and squatted down in front of Adam.

"I'm Hattie," she said, in her pretty, mellow voice. "Who ah yo', sugah?"

Adam glanced at Ben and, receiving a nod, answered, "Adam," in a small voice.

"Adam, " Hattie repeated. "Why, that's from the Bible, ain't it?"

Adam nodded shyly.

"Well, sugah, why don' yo' come inside with me an' we'll sit fer a piece while yo' Daddy settles bizness out heah? That be okay wit' yo'?"

Adam glanced at Ben again and, receiving another nod, blinked up at Hattie and nodded.

Hattie chuckled. "Well, yo' shuah is a purty thing. Come on, now - " she pushed to her feet and held out her hand.

Adam eyed the hand speculatively. "Can you read?" he asked hopefully.

"No, sugah - I can't."

Adam sighed. "Me neither." He slipped his hand into hers. "My Pa is teaching me, though."

"Well, if I get ta stay heah, maybe somebody'll teach me, too."

Adam tilted his head at her. "My Pa says everybody should be able to read."

Hattie gave a low laugh that sounded like music. "Well, wheah I growed up, learnin' ta read was agin the law fer my kind. Shuah would like a chance ta learn…" She steered Adam gently back into the Watch House.

Ben followed as far as the door, planting himself next to it and leaving the door ajar, not caring whether or not he offended anyone. He was a father first, after all. He raised his eyes defiantly to the group in front of him and surprised a look of rueful appreciation on the lean older man's face. A quick moment of fatherly understanding flashed between them.

The man looked embarrassed and dropped his eyes. When he raised them again, his guard was somewhat back in place. "I thank yo', " he said gruffly. "She'll be real good with 'em. Jest about yearns fer them little ones since we lost our own boy."

Ben felt some of the stiffness melt out of him, shot a look over his shoulder to where Hattie had settled on the bench under the window with Adam snuggled against her.

"Adam and I - " the words snagged in his throat and he frowned deeply and tried again, "we lost Elizabeth - Adam's mother, too. I'm sorry to hear about your boy."

The man looked puzzled for a minute, then seemed almost sardonically amused. "Oh, my boy ain't dead, mistah. Least ways, not so's I knows. Sold away from us- when he was jest a little older than yo's. 'Bout broke Hattie's heart. Figgahed if'n we's free, though, well - maybe someday…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged.

Ben stared hard at him, then back at the shadowy corner that showed Hattie and Adam in silhouette. Losing Liz had been the great tragedy of his life - had very nearly torn the soul out of him - but at least it had been a random act of fate or providence. How would it have been to have had her ripped out of his arms - or Adam snatched away from him - for simple reasons of commerce and profit? He leaned heavily against the wall behind him, his head reeling.

"My Pa tells me stories sometimes - even without reading," he heard Adam hint innocently, and he couldn't suppress a smile. Trust Adam to wheedle a story out of a stranger.

"Well, I don' know as I know all that many stories…" Hattie's warm voice made him feel confident despite his fears. "But my boy used ta love fer me ta sing him ta sleep. You like ta be sung to?"

"I don't know."

Ben closed his eyes tight, forgetting for the moment that he could be in danger. Of course he didn't know. No one sang to him. A boy needed a mother to sing to him - lullabies - nursery rhymes - nonsense songs…

"Well, why don' we try it an' see hows you like it? You know the stars, sugah?"

"Uh-huh. My Pa taught me. He's a sailor."

"Well, now, that's fine. Yo' know the drinking gourd?"

There was a silence, then Adam's voice said reproachfully, "That's the Big Dipper. My Pa says so."

Hattie laughed again. "Well, a dippah's the same as a drinking gourd, ain't it?"

Adam's voice sounded dubious. "I guess so."

"So this song is secret code. Drinking gourd means Big Dippah. It's a secret map fo' folks what's makin' theys way no'th."

He could make out the rustle of the blankets as Adam snuggled down. "My Pa and me are makin' our way west. Do you know any secret songs for that?"

There was a brief silence. "No, sugah, 'fraid I don' - wheres I come from everybody wants ta go no'th. Wheres they can learn ta read…wheres they can sing their babies ta sleep…yo' wanna heah it?"

"Uh-huh." Adam's voice sounded drowsy

The singing started soft and low. "When the sun comes up and the first quail calls…follow the drinking gourd…for the old man is awaitin' to carry you to freedom…follow the drinking gourd…"

Ben opened his eyes and gazed at the shadowy figures. Even with the molasses-smooth drawl, in the uncertain light it took only the smallest imagination to pretend that he was seeing what he had never gotten to see - Elizabeth singing Adam to sleep. He stared at the scene hungrily, trying to fix it in his mind.

"The river bank makes a very good road…the dead trees will show you the way…" Hattie's voice was warm and sweet and true. "Left foot, peg foot, traveling on…follow the drinking gourd…"

Ben turned his head away, his eyes suddenly damp, and saw the face of the lean man, reflecting his as clearly as a mirror. He glanced back inside the Watch House - knew exactly what the lean man was seeing there.

"The river ends between two hills…follow the drinking gourd…there's another river on the other side…follow the drinking gourd…"

He felt a powerful kinship with this man - his family truncated - desperately seeking a new place to set down new roots and heal… So many families torn apart. Good God, where did it end?

"Where the great big river meets the little river…follow the drinking gourd…for the old man is awaiting for to carry you to freedom…follow the drinking gourd…"

The last word fell away to soft humming and Ben realized with a start that he had a job he was supposed to be doing. He leaned even more heavily into the wall, his eyes fixed on the outline of the woman with his little boy's head on her knee. He cleared his throat, never moving his gaze. "You'd best be moving along. I have another boat due within the hour."

He felt the leader shift on his feet. "Beg pardon, sir?"

"I said you'd best hurry. Don't want to be caught here. It's a clear night - they could easily get here early."

The man scratched at his head and stared at him, but the lean man pushed past him. "Hattie," he called softly. "We's gotsa be goin'."

Hattie looked down at the head in her lap and gave it a final stroke before shifting it back to the pillow with a mother's deftness. She stood stiffly, her tiredness suddenly showing, and moved silently to his side.

In the faint, reflected light Ben could see the questions in her eyes. He stayed, unmoving, in his position against the wall. "Thank you for singing my boy back to sleep."

She gave him a tiny, shy smile. The lean man moved her gently aside, fumbling at a pouch fastened inside his shirt. "We got a few dollas…"

Ben left his hands in his pockets and made no move to take the proffered coins. "Good," he said with finality. "You'll need them. You'd best be on your way, now."

The leader stared at him a moment, then glanced over his shoulder at the knot of fugitives behind him. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his face unreadable. Then he touched his cap to him and jerked his head in signal to the three ragged followers.

The lean man glanced back at Ben, clutching his wife's elbow in one hand and his tattered money pouch in the other. He looked like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure what.

Ben gave him a brief nod. "Good luck to you, " he whispered.

"You too, suh." Their eyes met and for a second they felt almost like the same man.

Ben hesitated as he saw them move away. "You never told me your name," he called after him, quietly, almost sure they wouldn't hear, shaking his head at himself. As if names were important. Nay, worse - in a situation like this names were downright dangerous.

"Benjamin…" The name floated back on the breeze.

Ben smiled faintly to himself. Benjamin. Of course it was.

He pushed himself finally away from the wall and strolled back into the Watch House, shutting the door against the cold. Through the large northern window he could clearly make out the Big Dipper hanging in the sky, pointing demurely to the North Star. It looked clear and bright and beautiful tonight, shining strongly from among all the others. He had some paper work he should be doing - a great deal, really…but...after a moment he sat down on the bench instead, turning so that he could clearly see the constellation. He reached down and gently stroked the hair curling over Adam's ear.

Adam was a light sleeper and his slumber had already been interrupted once tonight…but he couldn't help himself. After a second he gathered him into his lap and, holding his sleeping son, gazed out at the stars.

TBC