The Messenger by Siri Mitchell

parents must not know that I plan to visit him. They are not . . . pleased with his politics.”
    Polly came down the stair at that moment, resplendent in a gown of many colors.
    “Ah! So you are a spy, then. Of sorts. Have no fear; I shall keep the secret between us.” With a merry wink he took up Polly’s hand as she stepped down into the hall and gave it a kiss.
    Secret? I hadn’t meant to ask him to keep a secret. I had only wanted to tell him the truth.

     
    The major did not overstay his visit that evening. Polly came into her bedroom just as I was slipping into my bed. The slave named Jenny accompanied her and helped her from her gown. “Major Lindley said you obtained a pass to see your brother.”
    I closed my eyes against the news of his perfidy. Had he not told me he would keep the pass a secret? “I had asked him to keep that knowledge to himself, as I must now ask thee to do.”
    “Of course I will. But . . . have you been there? Have you seen him?”
    “I hope to go tomorrow.”
    “How exciting! You must tell me what it’s like. I want to know everything about it!” She made it sound as if I was going to visit General Howe or some other personage she considered just as august.
    Jenny helped her into a new shift, brushed out her hair, and warmed her sheets. Then she turned them so Polly could climb into bed.
    How exciting!
    On that happy thought she soon drifted off to sleep.
    On that happy thought I worried through half the night.

     
    The next afternoon I tried to leave the house without anyone taking notice. I had not counted on Davy. He sent Doll out to me before I could even protest. She came, grasping her cloak about the throat with one hand and pulling it close about her waist with the other. “Since you consider yourself decent folk, you might consider going out next time at a decent time of day.”
    The shadows had grown long and the cold more pronounced. “I’m sorry. I’m expected somewhere. Otherwise . . .” Otherwise I would not have found myself in such a predicament, dependent upon the presence of an enslaved woman. Not for the first time I wondered how exactly it was that I had been caught up in such deception. But that ache of hunger and a bone-chilling cold swept over me and I remembered.
    Robert.
    He was the reason.
    We walked up Walnut Street in silence. Had I tried to speak, the wind would have stolen the words from my lips. It was better to trod, head down, one foot in front of the other. Quite soon we came to Third Street. A look at the way ahead showed Jeremiah Jones walking toward me. I stopped.
    Doll ran into me.
    This business did not sit well with me. I’d completely forgotten about Doll and I didn’t know what to do with her now. I couldn’t imagine that Jeremiah Jones would want her with me when he passed by with the message. But neither could I imagine what else she would willingly do.
    I put my hand on Doll’s arm. “Thee must stand over there, at the corner, for a moment.”
    She shook her head as she sighed. “Davy told me to stay with you no matter what you say.”
    I looked up toward Jeremiah Jones. I could tell he was frowning beneath the folds of his muffler. He was glaring.
    “I have to speak to that man and my words need to be my own.”
    Doll shrugged, refused to meet my eyes. “If Davy ever asks, I don’t know nothing about no man.”
    “If Davy ever asks, thee may tell him the truth. I would expect no less.”
    “The truth.” She nearly spat the words.
    “Why would thee ever say anything other?”
    “Why? Because there’s the truth and then there’s the truth . Ain’t no Negro ever gained nothing by telling the truth. The truth is something I want no part of. You couldn’t make me tell the truth if you whipped me for it.”
    I had a mind to stay there and determine exactly what it was that Doll meant, but Jeremiah Jones was still glaring, and I had no desire to further incur his wrath. “Thee can watch me all thee want, only