1824
CHAPTER 43
The Winter of 1824 was as cold and dark inside the Allan home as it was outside. After their epic altercation, something had changed forevermore between Eddy and John, each feeling the victim of an unprovoked attack. In fact, on this bleak winter days, everyone in the house on 14th and Tobacco Alley kept to themselves. 
Without the required papers, Father Courtney had had no choice but to give Juliet’s ticket to Africa away. Thankfully, her sale to Mr. Covey had been delayed until  Spring. 
Eddy was happy to have Juliet nearby a little longer. He still dreamed of ways to run away North with her, although he was finally starting to recognize it as a fantasy.  He tried writing poems to express how much she still meant to him, but they always ended up in a ball on the floor. It was too painful to try and make amends. Eddy missed nights of laughter around the fire that were no more.
With Burke’s school out for the winter, he spent his days with his Nez at Mrs. Burling’s Tavern, or in I room dreaming up stories of love, loss and revenge. No one knew he had another notebook- the once where Eddy could unleash his deepest, most sensual fantasies of Jane, pouring out his heart, and devouring her beauty while never, ever worrying about judgement from others, or rejection. He had given up writing the poems about Juliet, because they forced him to reckon with what he had done to her and that hurt too much.   
Fantasizing about Jane was another story. Despite the fact he hadn’t seen her in a month, Eddy invited her into his imagination each night. It was easier to meet her in his dreams, than it was to brave the climb all the way to Court End to see her. Eddy ruminated on the memory of their sexually charged last meeting until after the first thaw when he might make a move. Until then, his imagination would have to suffice.  
Eddy spent the better part of a blustery afternoon at a local bookshop where he was catching up on the rebellious antics of his idol, Lord Byron. On his way home, a bitter wind nipped at his ears. He looked forward to a cup of whatever hot, delicious beverage Juliet made on days like these. So he was entirely caught off guard when he came face to face in the kitchen with a complete stranger.
She was a stout-looking, middle-aged slave whose frown Edgar realized was her natural expression. 
“Where is Juliet?” He asked.
 “Don’ know no Juliet. I’m Tun,” said the woman.  [1]
 “Oh,” he said, confused. “Can you tell me where my Ma is?”
 “Lady o’ de house in her room,” barked the stranger with not hint of a greeting.
 “OK, thank you, um… what did you say your name was again?
 “Tun.”
Eddy went upstairs to tell Frances he was home, and found her crying. Rather than interrupt her, he quietly closed the door, and went to find Aunt Nancy to get some answers. Her penchant for gossip might come in handy.
A somber tune played on the spinet in the parlor downstairs. Nancy stopped playing mid-note when she saw him. She stared blankly at him in silence before resuming the song. 
Completely baffled, Eddy went to his room. Placed neatly on his pillow was a crisp, fresh note.
Dear Eddy,
By the time you receive this letter I shall have already left. I agonized over whether to say goodbye in person. However, as a condition of my arrangement I was forbidden from doing so.
This morning, only after you had left to go wherever it is that you go, your Pa, Mister Allan, gave me the good news, providing me with my official documents, signed by Mister Ellis. That’s right, Eddy, I have received my freedom. Whatever you said to your Pa, I am eternally grateful, for it clearly set into motion that which finds me an emancipated woman today.
This glorious news comes with not a moment to spare, for another ship, Cyrus Company [2], will from City Point, Virginia tomorrow morn. I hope you will forgive my haste with such an impersonal goodbye.
Already I have said my goodbyes to the Allans and to Miss Valentine. The kindness your family has shown me these past few years will remain with me always. Nevertheless, Dear Eddy, it is you whom I have to thank the most. Your friendship, trust, and your gloriously vivid stories have, without a doubt, given me strength. Whilst mere words cannot fully express my thanks, I shall hold you in my heart Evermore,
Juliette Ellis
9 January, 1824

Edgar felt sick. His head began to spin. He stood there for a moment, a day; a lifetime, before something shook him back into the moment. Edgar bolted back down the hall to Ma’s bedroom. This time she looked over her shoulder. 
 “I have to say goodbye, Ma,” he said, walking over.
 “I know,” she whispered, wiping the last tear away.
 “Here, take this,” she said handing him a small silk purse pulled from a nightstand. “There’s money in there. Use what you need, and give the rest to Juliet, including the purse,” Her lip quivered. “And please tell her that I miss her already.”
Edgar kissed his Ma on the cheek and ran down the front stairs two at a time. He hit the landing with such a thud that Nancy missed a key. 
 “Let it go, Eddy. She’s gone.”  
But Nancy’s words trailed into the ether as he grabbed his coat and fled out the front door toward the stagecoach office. From her window Frances watched Eddy run. “Run Eddy,” she whispered.  
No ship will leave at night, he realized. If he could get there tonight, he could land her. But the last stagecoach of the day would be leaving in less than thirty minutes.
Eddy picked up his pace. 
From the back of the ticket queue, he mumbled, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” until the man in front of him returned a dirty look.  It seemed like forever to make it to the front of the line, and when he finally did, he noticed there was no one behind him. Naturally.
 “May I help you?”
 “Yes, Sir. I'd like one seat on the next coach to Petersburg.”
“It’s your lucky day, kid,” he replied. “Gentleman before you just asked for a refund. This is the last ticket.”
Edgar found hope. He handed over a silver coin, and received his ticket. He was on his way and there wasn’t a moment to spare.