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    The Long Walk
    The Long Walk
    The Long Walk
    Ebook132 pages2 hours

    The Long Walk

    By Milton Davis

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    About this ebook

    Patience de Verteuil leaves her home of Trinidad with her father for what was supposed to be a short trip to America. Instead she finds herself embroiled in a battle between good and evil, a conflict that can be won or lost with a special object in her possession. The Long Walk is a Steamfunk adventure that will keep you rivited until the end.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMilton Davis
    Release dateOct 22, 2019
    ISBN9781393639244
    The Long Walk

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      Book preview

      The Long Walk - Milton Davis

      The

      Long Walk

      A Rite of Passage Story

      Milton J Davis

      MVmedia, LLC
      Fayetteville, GA

      Copyright © 2019 by Milton J. Davis.

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

      Milton J. Davis/MVmedia, LLC

      PO Box 1465

      Fayetteville, GA 30214

      www.mvmediaatl.com

      www.miltonjdavis.com

      Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

      Book Layout ©2017BookDesignTemplates.com

      Cover Art by Sean Hill

      Ordering Information:

      Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the Special Sales Department at the address above.

      The Long Walk/Milton J. Davis.—1st ed.

      Contents

      One

      Two

      Three

      Four

      Five

      Six

      Seven

      Eight

      Nine

      Ten

      To the Exodusters

      One

      Patience de Verteuil made the sign of the cross as the steamship Steebeth pulled away from Invaders Bay. She was leaving Trinidad behind, setting out on an unexpected journey sparked by a letter her father received from an old friend, Harriet Tubman. She looked up to her father standing beside her, searching his strong brown face for any signs of doubt but there were none. They were on their way to America, to a city she never heard of until a few weeks ago; Nicodemus.

      She tugged at her father’s white cotton shirt and he looked at her with smiling eyes.

      "What is it, cheri?" he asked.

      Are you sure of this, papa?

      He squatted before her then hugged her with his thick arms. Papa was a big man, dwarfing her despite the growth spurt that came with her twelfth birthday. Other things had come as well, things that papa had a hard time explaining to her. He took her instead to Sister Rosa. She wished mama could have told her such things, but mama had died so long ago, Patience barely remembered her. There was a painting of her in their old house that Patience would stare at and imagine them having conversations about flowers, food and sometimes boys. The thought made her smile as papa hugged her.

      I’m sure, he said. Miss Tubman would not have sent for me if it wasn’t necessary.

      Is she so important that we must leave our home?

      Papa nodded. Miss Tubman is a very special person. She has a great responsibility that she cannot bear alone. I and others must assist her.

      Are the others from Trinidad, too?

      No. They live in America. You will meet them when we arrive at Nicodemus, if not before.

      Do they have children?

      He swept Patience into his arms then sat her on the bulwark.

      My little bird is always chirping. Your questions will be answered soon enough. But now we’ll wave goodbye to our island and our friends!

      Patience waved with papa, but she could not act as if she was happy. She hoped whatever papa had to do for this Miss Tubman would be over soon and they could return home. The wind tugged at her bonnet so she waved with one hand.

      I’ll be home soon, she whispered. Very soon.

      They lingered on the deck until nightfall. There were very few children on the ship and all of those were white. Patience had no issue playing with them, but their parents wouldn’t allow it. She stayed close to papa instead, gazing out onto the waters. As an island girl the beach and the ocean were a daily part of her life, but never had she been so far out to sea that she could not see land. She felt so small in the midst of the ocean, so she clung to papa to feel important.

      They took their supper and dinner on the deck.  The Negro rooms on the steamer were near the steam engine, making them cramped, loud and hot. Papa did his best to get a better cabin but the white men on this ship weren’t nice like the ones sailing between the islands.  At least the severs were Negroes as well. They brought them ham, potatoes and sweet tea.

      Night arrived and the deck hands walked the deck, lighting the gas lamps for those enjoying the cool air. The excitement and apprehension of a new journey had worn away; Patience was restless.

      Papa,’ she said sweetly. Can we play?"

      Papa frowned. This isn’t the place, he replied. They don’t know anything about bois. Somebody might think I’m trying to give you a whupping.

      Patience giggled. Just a little bit, papa. Please?

      Papa thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on his chin.

      Okay, this one time, he finally said. Let’s go.

      They fast walked to the cabin, the engine’s voice louder the closer they came.  It was almost deafening as they entered their room. At least whoever built this ship knew this would be a loud area and took the care to make the little cabin soundproof, well at least soundproof enough to allow sleep. Papa reached under the bed then extracted a long narrow box covered in rich leather and accented with golden studs. Patience’s eyes widened with curiosity. She’d never see it before.

      What’s that, papa?

      Papa shoved it back quickly under the bed.

      Wrong box. He reached under the bed again then pulled out the old battered box containing their bois.

      Here we are, he announced.

      Papa, what was in that other box? Patience asked as they left the room.

      Nothing, just some old things from home, he answered.

      She followed papa out of the room then through the hallway.

      I’ve never seen it before, she said.

      I hope you haven’t, papa replied. That would mean you’ve been going through my things and I know you know better than that.

      He turned and gave Patience a serious stare.

      No papa, I haven’t gone through your things, she said, answering his quiet question.

      He smiled. Good. Now let’s play.

      They emerged onto the deck then went to the stern. Papa opened the box then handed her her bois, a thin stick painted red and green. Papa took out his bois and Patience covered her mouth to muffle her giggle. Papa’s stick was a poor looking thing, but she knew its sting well. So did many of the other players in her town.

      Papa grasped his stick on both ends then raised it to the guard position. Patience did the same.  They began to step in time before Papa began to sing, his rich baritone filling the night air.

      Mooma, Mooma

      Your son in de grave already,

      Your son in de grave already,

      Take a towel and ban you belly,

      Mooma, Mooma,

      Today is your son’s burial,

      Today is your r son’s burial,

      Tomorrow is a grand funeral...

      Papa slid his hands together at the stick’s base then struck down on her slowly, setting the pace. They exchanged blows as they danced in time. Patience joined her father singing in harmony, her falsetto voice light and playful.

      ––––––––

      Mooma, Mooma,

      Your son in de grave already,

      Your son in de grave already,

      Take a towel and ban your belly.

      Mooma, Mooma,

      Today is the grand funeral,

      Today is the grand funeral,

      Next time it’s the grand burial!

      What the hell is this?

      Two white men dressed in tailored suits emerged into their light. One was a tall, ruddy man wearing a bowler and smoking a pipe, the other somewhat shorter and wider. Papa looked at Patience and she quickly came to his side. There was something odd about the two, something threatening. It took Patience a few moments to figure it out. It was their eyes. They reflected the light like the eyes of cats.

      They were doing some kind of dancing thing with those sticks, the tall man said.

      You know how they are, the shorter man said. Always dancing and singing about something.

      The tall man took his pipe out then pointed at Papa. Y’all go on ahead now. We need some entertainment on this tub.

      We were just finishing, sir, Papa said.

      You heard the man! the shorter man barked.

      Now, now Jim, this ain’t Mississippi, the man said. These niggers here ain’t used to our ways. Listen how they’re talking. Y’all from Jamaica?

      Trinidad, sir, Papa replied. Patience heard the anger in papa’s voice.

      The tall man walked up to Patience then grasped her bois. She began to pull away but Papa shook his

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