ADVENTURE ON OCRACOKE ISLAND; CHAPTER 11: THE TWINS MAKE PLANS FOR JOHN'S ESCAPE (ELEVENTH OF 14 PARTS)

When the children heard the knock on the door, John leaped up. As he dashed toward the old love seat, he stumbled and lay stretched across it.

He froze as Grandma came in.

"What are you kids up to?" she asked, smiling. "A treasure hunt?" She placed a tray of sugar cookies on the desk.

Brian, Melissa and Amy all stared at her. The map was in plain view on the floor. Grandma pointed to it. "I used to love treasure hunts when I was a girl," she said. "No telling what you'll find around here." Amy let out her breath. "No telling."

Grandma glanced across the room at the love seat. Her eyes rested on John. "Brian, honey, please put your clothes away," she said. "I don't much care to have them scattered all over the furniture."

"Yes, ma'am," Brian stammered.

Grandma turned to go. "Supper won't be for another hour, so there's time for homework," she said. "School tomorrow."

"Yes, Grandma," Melissa said.

After she left, Brian whispered, "That was close." John slowly stood up and said, "She couldn't see me. But she could see these clothes." He looked nervous. He sat with the others on the floor, and they started to make their plan.

To light the way for John and his family, they had to mark places that existed in 1858.

At Belle Vie, they would put candles in the windows, which Grandma usually did for Christmas anyway. That would get John started.

Later, the river would take them past Mill Mountain, which they decided was the big hill on the map. "It's too bad you won't be able to see the star," Melissa said. "It's very bright." Everyone in Roanoke knew about the giant electric white star on top of the mountain. "My Sunday school class goes up there on Christmas Eve to read the Christmas story." She thought for a minute. "If we were all holding candles, do you think you could see us from the river?"

"Perhaps," John said. "It's worth a try."

A few minutes later, Grandma called up from downstairs. "Homework!"

"You'd better do your work," John said. He slipped behind the wardrobe door and changed back into his own clothes, which were still damp. He stepped out and said, "I'll be back." And with that, he was gone.

* * *

Soon it was nearly Thanksgiving. The leaves were long gone and the air had grown chilly. Nearly every day, Melissa, Brian and Amy talked about their plan.

They went to the public library to find books that would help them. They read about the Underground Railroad and Harriet Tubman. They read about slavery and abolition and the people in Philadelphia who helped runaways.

They saw John several days a week. He would show up whenever they were all together. He was pleased with their new knowledge.

One afternoon, when John appeared, Brian looked up from a library book. "Did you know that maybe 100,000 slaves escaped on the Underground Railroad?" John looked thoughtful and said, "That's good news."

Melissa asked, "John, aren't you scared?"

"Oh, yes," he replied. "But I can't let that stop me."

* * *

On a gray Saturday morning after Thanksgiving, Grandma stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes. The twins were eating breakfast.

Grandma said she needed to plan the decorations for their church's Christmas concert, which was going to be held in a big house across town.

"Would you like to come?" she asked Melissa and Brian. "It's a grand old house. A lot like this one, but bigger."

The twins looked up from their oatmeal. "What kind of house is it?" Brian asked absently.

"It's an old plantation home on a hill above the river," Grandma said, as she rinsed a plate. "It's called Buena Vista. The view is lovely."

The twins looked at each other. "Is it very old?" Melissa asked.

"Oh, yes. Almost as old as this place. It was one of the first houses around here."

Melissa and Brian jumped up and put on their coats.

When they got to the house, it took their breath away. In the middle of a wide, tree-filled park, it was a peaceful, lovely place. But, knowing what they had learned, they also pictured slave cabins and people working hard.

The cold river was below the hill, out of sight.

"It's a nice view, don't you think? Or it was, long ago," Grandma said. "Of course, that's what it means. Buena Vista means 'good view.'"

Brian glanced at Melissa. "Like a good view of heaven," he said quietly. Melissa nodded.

Grandma looked at him. "Yes, I suppose so," she said. "What a lovely way to put it."

As they walked along the path to the house, Melissa asked, "Grandma, what if we put candles around outside for your concert? It would be beautiful." Grandma looked surprised. "Well, that would be nice, honey, if you really want to."

Melissa said to herself, "With no leaves on the trees, you could see the candles from the river."

Grandma nodded. "But nobody will be at the river," she said. "Will they?"

* * *

It was Christmas Eve in 1858.

Supper was finished. The December darkness pressed against the windows of the house. The icy rain finally had stopped, but the air still had a bone-chilling bite to it. Below the hill, the rain-gorged river roared and pulled at its banks.

A mean night to be outside, thought Old Bess, the cook. She was alone in the kitchen. From the parlor came the sound of laughter and singing. Bess stood in the pantry and opened a tea towel. In it she tied up four ham biscuits, four apples and a small cake, and slipped the bundle into a flour sack.

John came in with a tray and said the guests wanted more tea.

Bess looked at John tenderly and said, "I'll get it. You have other things to do." Under her breath, the old woman sang, "Steal away, steal away home, I ain't got long to stay here. ..." John had heard the older folks sing that song before, but now it meant much more to him.

Bess whispered, "It's time, child. Go with God." She pressed the bundle into his arms and kissed him on the cheek.

John hurried to the cellar to get his coat. He stuffed his other pants and shirt into the bag. Then he opened the back door and slipped out.

The last thing he heard, just as the door closed, was Miss Elizabeth playing "Sheep May Safely Graze" on the piano.

He crossed the back yard and glanced at the clearing sky. The North Star glittered fiercely near the Drinking Gourd.

When he got to the springhouse, he opened the door. Just inside, he saw a slim figure pressed against the wall in the dark. John's heart hammered in his chest. The person said nothing, but held out a piece of paper.

It was the map.

Next week: A journey begins.