The Grave Marker

“Saturday night came slowly, the way time always does when you want to get something distasteful over with. The sun, dragging itself painfully toward the west, was still too high in the Connecticut sky at dinner time. Not much discussion took place at the Winters’ dinner table that evening. There comes a point in all disagreeable things when the talking is over and nothing else can be said. It wasn’t until after Billy finished his cigar that he spoke. “You kids need a ride back down to the factory?” he asked. “Thanks, but not tonight, Billy. Father Mallory has a small horse and wagon,” said Jason. “You gonna do this ain’t cha?” “We have to,” said Jason “You know it’s wrong Jason.” “You have to do what is right, even when it seems wrong to others, Billy,” said Jason. “It’s agin the law Jason.” “So was hiding runaway slaves, Mr. Winters.” “I know. If you’re foolish enough to do such a thing, you gonna need wagons Son. Take the one out in front.” “I don’t know how to drive a mule Sir.” “Then I guess, I’ll jus have to come along and show you.” When Jason stepped out, he was greeted with one of the strangest scenes he had ever witnessed in his life. There, sitting in Billy’s wagon, waiting to go, were Jonah, Sam, and Professor Kincaid, dressed as the priest,. Behind them, several other wagons full of people were all waiting for Billy to step out of the house. All Billy’s kinfolk were going to help too. They were all going to trust together, or, as Billy said, with a headshake, “go to jail together, jus like thieves.” The night was dark; a noisy wind blew off of Long Island Sound. Fortunately, a good night for thieves, when there was much less chance of being seen or heard. The little caravan of mule-driven wagons, most of which were once used to carry the ivory from the ships up the street to the factory, came to a halt in a dark field near town. “We’s gotta leave the wagons here,” whispered Billy. “They’s hear one wheel squeak and we’s caught. We’ll carry that ivory from the factory over to this field and then load it up for the ride up to that St. Joseph’s Church.” Jonah, a dark figure dressed in black, careful not to knock over anything lying around, crept around the back of the factory. He found the broken pane of glass, pushed up his jacket sleeve and felt inside for the key he had hidden. Moments later, the front doors, the big ones that open for the ivory wagons and keyboards, were pushed open; they made much too much noise. “Put some oil on those hinges,” someone whispered, “before the whole town wakes up.” “Back here,” urged Jonah, pointing out a moderately sized tusk that in the daylight would display the label, “Zanzibar prime,” on its base. Jason had reached for the heavy end and Jonah started to lift his end when suddenly a hand came out of the darkest shadows and grabbed his arm. “I’ll carry this out with my kinfolk, Jonah. I’ve done this before, so I know how to do it.” It was Duma. He would risk everything, after all. Even Samantha and Miss Margaret carried the small tusks. Together they formed a silent procession of bodies, slipping back and forth through the dark night up to the field to deposit the heavy ivory. It was dangerous and it was hard work; it went on hour after hour well into the night. Just for a moment, Duma thought that this was a fitting answer to those slave caravans that carried the ivory out of Tanganyika. Only this time it is different because these folks are doing it of their own free will. Near midnight, after locking up the factory, now empty of ivory tusks, they began to ready the wagons to move out, There would be all out trouble come Monday morning if there was no fire on Sunday. Once, toward the end, someone dropped a tusk which made a considerable noise as it bounced off the top of a wagon wheel and fell into the dew covered field. A moment later, a light went on in a nearby window, and an old man appeared holding a shotgun while a woman by his side held a candle. They both peered out for what seemed forever. Each and every one of the ivory thieves held their breath. Finally, the light went out and a few moments later the caravan began quietly moving off toward the north and Chester. It certainly was a strange sight to see the caravan when it finally reached the church and pulled around the back in the cemetery, out of view of the road in front. “Where we gonna put these elephant teeth, Reverend?” Billy asked. “I hadn’t really thought of it that much, Mr. Winters. To be honest with you, I didn’t really expect to get this much ivory free.” “Well you better figure it out soon. That old sun will be lookin down here in the mornin and you gots lots of people comin out to see you cause it’s the Lord’s day.” Duma was the one who really came up with the clever idea, though, he didn’t intend to. “If we don’t hide it all tonight we may as well be in the ground with all these dead folks because that’s where we’re going to be come Monday.” “That’s it, Duma,” said Father Mallory. “We’ll bury it.” “Huh,” said Billy, “Do what