Breaking Glass

(25) Leaving

Chapter Twenty Five

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                The boat’s horn rung throughout the town, the low, authorative  sound reverberating from the walls, filling my ears with a sound so pure that I paused to relish in it, goose bumps rising on my arms. It meant new beginnings, I could see the steam rising from the boats. Steamboats were a new invention, and they required a lot of coal – but they got you places faster. Therefore costing more money.

                The boat I was to go on was a large wooden boat somewhat resembling the Mayflower, with its decks and crew and whatnot. It required some labor from the passengers, and the journey would take anywhere from three to five months.

                I would be getting to Maryland sometime in March – maybe April – which was the time my baby was due. That is, until my father made a big scene a few minutes ago about what boat I was to take my journey in.

                “No daughter of mine will be riding with slaves!” he had exclaimed, waving his money in the attendant’s face. He had dressed nicely for the occasion – as he was always required to dress, but his attire held certain freshness about it – wearing a sharp-edged top hat and a matching vest. His mustache was cleanly-shaven and he wasn’t wearing that awful white wig and powder. I would’ve had to deny the fact that he was my company.

                Except for the fact that everyone knew who we both were.

                “But Daddy,” I had said in a low tone, “the ticket to the other boat is a fortune.” My eyes scanned the board where the fees were written in scrawly handwriting. Father had said it was due to the fact that the people in “this part of town” were uneducated and therefore very scurrilous. I gave him a look and he quickly corrected it by promising that he would try to bring more education to them.

                “Why, that fact is irrelevant,” he said dismissively, waving me off. The white gloves he was wearing were crisp and the buttons looked like they were newly sowed on by an expert seamstress. “You seem to forget that we have been very blessed.”

                “Yes,” I agreed, nodding. A large man bumped into Lydia, who was on my right, causing her to bump into me. She was never much of a mouth to anyone but me, so I was the one to quickly yell some insults at the man. He didn’t seem to notice. I turned back to my father. An amused look was on his face and I shook my head at him. “But I know that it is more than what we have, with Elizabeth’s funeral,” I continued, once again looking at the prices.

                “It’s my life savings,” my father agreed as well. “But I will earn it back soon enough.” He offered me a warm smile and I couldn’t help but hug him. I was reminded of my goodbye with Cade and Arabella. Neither of them went back to their normal selves, much to my expectations. She had wished me luck, and cried almost as much as when she apologized. Cade was much more dethatched – but it was understandable. Our goodbye was just a hug and some murmured goodbyes. Then  I watched them as they packed up and left. Riding off into the sunset. They left my father behind, but it was only after he asked Lydia if he could stay with us one night so he could wave me off tomorrow. She shook her head in the beginning, of course, but after I begged and pleaded (on my knees), she gave a wispy “Yes” and my father thanked her.

                He slept in her room.

                Of course, it was the room we shared, but she had booted my out, insisting that I spend more time with my cousins before I leave. I knew the real reason, no matter how much they both denied it.