As Alden stepped away, he saw Mr.and Mrs.Webb along the rail, on the other side of the deck. Persila stood near them and so did Isaac. Persila held Isaac’s hand as if she feared he might fall into the water, watching over him again like she’d done repeatedly as they worked together these past months.
Alden had tried to talk to her about freedom, about the possibilities in this new state, but she didn’t seem to be able to entertain the hope of a future beyond serving the Webbs.
Isaac leaned against the railing, searching for a glimpse of the harbor. “Is it really California?”
“That’s what Captain Crandall says.”
“What will we do when we get on land?” Isaac asked. For the first time, Alden heard a tremor of fear in the boy’s voice. They’d worked hard these past five months to secure their passage out west. And now the end—or beginning—was close at hand.
“I have a job waiting for me here.”
“Will you hire me out?” Isaac asked.
Alden shook his head. “I’m hoping they might have work at the office for you too.”
At least until he found Isaac a good home.
An albatross flew over their ship, diving into the bay, and the land began to clear in front of them, breaking free of the fog. He saw sand hills at first, covered by scrubs of evergreen, and then the harbor with a forest of ship masts huddled together below a hill, like weeds sprouting out of muddy soil. Above were the façades of buildings, stair-stepped up, and clusters of shanties and tents on each side.
San Francisco.
Everything looked grimy yellow from this vantage point. Dank. But it was home, and he was glad to be here. He would learn to work alongside Judah. And he and Isaac would be free from slave masters and ship captains alike.
The clipper dropped anchor near the pier, and Captain Crandall ordered his crew to extend the gangplank, but Alden and Isaac were officially done with their work. Alden had left his trunk back in Boston, so all he and Isaac carried were two carpetbags.
His legs wobbled as the wood below him on the gangplank seemed to sway.
“Why am I still rocking?” Isaac asked, his eyes wide.
“It will stop soon,” Alden reassured him. “Our bodies don’t know we’ve landed yet.”
Isaac reached for the rope railing. “I hope my legs figure it out soon.”
Persila trailed the Webb family down the gangplank. While almost everyone else had a look of jubilation on their face, she looked terrified to discover what this new land held.
“Are you going straight to the Mother Lode?” Alden asked Mr.Webb.
The man looked at him with the same disdain as many of the other passengers on the ship, but then he saw Isaac and seemed to realize that Alden was a kindred spirit of sorts: the only other man on thePharoswho’d brought a slave into California with him. “We’re going to Sacramento City for a week or two first, then we’ll travel to the goldfields. Where are you headed?”
“I’m staying here in San Francisco.”
Mr.Webb nodded at Isaac. “Are you selling him?”
“No,” Alden replied. “Are you selling Persila?”
“Not yet.”
Alden lowered his voice, pretending to confide in the man. “I was worried about bringing a slave to a free state.”
“There’s no need to worry,” Mr.Webb proclaimed. “I heard there are plenty of slaves out here, digging gold for their masters.”
Alden groaned inwardly.
“Once we strike it rich, we’ll buy us a fine mansion and live as good as anyone else.”
While the Webbs collected their freight, Alden slipped up beside Persila. “You can find me at 316 Stockton Street,” he said. “I will do everything I can to fight for your freedom.”
“You fight for Isaac’s freedom,” she said before kissing the boy on his head. “I’ll be praying for you both.”
