Clement Station was dirty. Rebecca had never seen it. The many times she'd travelled with Daniel, they had gone to Salem or Philadelphia. Most recently they had spent most of their time traveling the extra distance to Philadelphia to see Jemima and their five grandchildren. When she had asked about the new settlement, he had told her that it was no place to take a lady such as herself.
"It's filled with gamblers, slave traders and ruffians. I would spend every second worrying over ya. It is a sight closer, but I wouldn't take an enemy there, let alone a beautiful girl like you!" He'd winked at her.
She glanced to the hills behind the filthy town. She longed to be home. She could only wonder what Daniel must be thinking. By her calculations, it had been well over a month since she'd climbed out the window. Each day she looked for an opportunity to escape and prayed constantly for a miracle. Thinking of Dan had become too painful; it would send her spinning into fear and worry. Had they been atacked? Were he and the children well? Would she ever be in his arms again? It was too much to think on and so she trued not to.
She tried every day to figure out what he'd said to her, as he had handed her his pistol. In her mind, she studied his lips as he leaned out the window, holding onto her hand, but the words were always carried away by the wind, just as they had been that night.
Her mind began to fog and reel. They had held her down and forced her to swallow the laudanum just as they had reached the outskirts of the settlement, and she began to feel its effects. Everything blurred before her and she stumbled.
"Works like a charm!" A voice beside her said. She turned and saw an unfamiliar face.
"Dan?" She asked but her words slurred.
"No Dan here, honey!" And arms pushed her forward.
"Another drunk! What price you think you'll get for this one! She's old!" She heard someone say.
"Ah, she's a good hard worker, long as there's some rum nearby. You don't have to be young to cook and clean!"
"Alright, we'll sell her in the third lot. Sign here."
"Fifteen per cent! That's outrageous!" Helm said studying the paper in front of him.
"You notice I didn't ask for her papers." The man explained. "If you want lower commissions, go to Salem. 'Course they'll ask for her indentures, and your proof of ownership. You got those on ya?" The man laughed. "I thought not."
She sat on a barrel and all around her voices swirled and she couldn't determine if they were from the past or the present. Suddenly, she found herself atop a platform and a man was calling out for people to bid on her.
It was as though she had stepped back in time, and she was ten years old again.
Alone, frightened, her eyes ever straining for her Pa to come and rescue her from her fate. She looked everywhere for Suzannah, but she had already been sold off. Until this day, she'd never even been outside their village and now, here she was in Dublin, and all around her people pushed her and yelled at her. She closed her eyes and thought of her Ma, but even then all she could picture was her Ma being lowered into the earth. She felt utterly alone; abandoned. She had turned then and looked out to the crowd. Just on the edge was a man and woman with two small children. The woman held a baby in her arms, and the man kept his arm around her protectively. "Someday." She had whispered to herself making a promise like iron. "Someday."
Yet, now here she was again, listening to someone else decide her fate. Her arms and legs were heavy as lead and the world around her spun and swirled when she shifted her head. She thought of running, was trying to even, but instead fell to the ground unconscious as the barker continued to shout out her price.
***DB***
She sat up suddenly, but everything started to spin.
"Easy now." A voice near her said. "Lie back."
She struggled to open her eyes, but found she couldn't. Panic filled her and she struggled again to sit up, but strong arms held her in place.
"Come on, now. Be a nice girl. Just lie back. No one is going to hurt you. You are sick. Just rest for now. We can talk all about it later. Just be quiet now."
"Daniel." She called out.
"Hush," The voice said. "Hush, now. Just rest for now. We can sort things out later."
***DB***
When she awoke again it was dark, and she was horrified to find that her clothes had been changed. She sat up and immediately knocked something beside her over. She tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness, but suddenly a lamp entered the room. Carrying it was a small woman, dressed all in black; a nun.
"Easy, now, then. I know you are frightened. Just sit back a minute. I'm not going to harm you. You've been ill. Just rest a minute."
Still tense and confused, Rebecca sat back against the pillows of the bed. The nun came beside her and righting the small table that had been knocked over, she set the lamp on it, and handed Becky a cup of water.
"Drink this. You must be thirsty." Rebecca accepted the cup and studied the nun thoughtfully. She opened her mouth to speak and found she had no voice.
"I am Sister Beatrice. The laudanum makes some folks very ill. Your voice will return. You were yelling through the night. It can give you strange dreams. You probably don't remember much. They were auctioning you off. Do you remember that?" Rebecca nodded, but found even that motion brought dizziness.
"Don't move too much. It makes it worse." Sister Beatrice said. "You are safe for now. No one would buy you after you fainted. When that happens, they turn you over to us. We care for the unwanted. You have endured great hardship and you are very tired. You must only rest now, and let us care for you." Rebecca opened her mouth to speak again.
"You'll only make it worse, trying to talk. Just rest. You are safe." Rebecca motioned with her hand.
"You know how to write?" Sister Beatrice asked. Rebecca nodded enthusiastically. "I'll get you some paper." She disappeared for what seemed like hours, but finally returned and handed a pen and paper to Becky.
I was taken. I am not a bondslave. My name is . . .
Sister Beatrice looked up at her expectantly. "Your name is?" She asked.
I can't remember, but I know I was taken. I know I wasn't a slave.
Sister Beatrice sighed and took the pen and paper away. "Its alright." She said gently. "You'll remember later. You've had a horrible experience. Even if you were a bondslave, it makes no difference to us. You are one of God's creatures and deserve tender care. Now, just lie back and sleep. Things will seem better in the morning.
Rebecca Boone lay back on the pillows trying to remember something. What was the name she had just spoken? She couldn't remember. Her thoughts became even fuzzier as she drifted to sleep. An image of someone tall, looming over her floated past, but she couldn't grab hold of it, but though the image seemed of a giant, she felt no fear.
***DB***
"Thank you, Sister." She said softly. Her voice weak but at last returned to her.
"You are welcome." Sister Beatrice smiled thoughtfully. "Any luck remembering your name?"
Rebecca shook her head. "I can't remember anything at all really. I can see blue sky, a woman, my mother I think, miles and miles of trees, but that is all I can see. Why can't I remember?"
"When you fell you hit your head, but Dr. Lawerence says it looks as though you had a previous injury too. I don't know. Your memory will come back. I'm sure of it." Sister Beatrice was always cheerful. "Still, we must call you something." She studied Rebecca thoughtfully. "I think we shall call you Grace."
"Grace?" She repeated back. The name felt familiar somehow. "Why Grace?"
"I don't know, and the older ones will tease me for it, but you just seem like a Grace to me. And grace is important to us all - it's everything." Sister Beatrice smiled.
Without thinking Grace said, "For it is by Grace ye have been saved and this not of yourselves, but rather the work of God in ye."
Beatrice laughed out loud. "Well, whoever you are - you are certainly no stranger to scripture! Imagine that! Don't you fret, Grace, your memory is tucked inside you somewhere. It will come back to you, and until then we shall wait."