Gunpowder and Tea Cakes: My Journey with Felicity

I ask Felicity what it was, she answers she doesn’t know either. We both stop, listening and waiting. My eyes strain to see something, anything, amongst the trees. Then, I hear something that sounds like sniffling.

Felicity calls out that whoever is there should come out at once. And then, a shadowy figure emerges from behind a shrub. A black woman is holding a small child in her arms. The girl looks about two or three years old. The child buries her face in the woman’s shoulder. I can tell she is crying, but she hardly makes any noise. She’s been taught to cry quietly.

The woman’s skirt comes to the middle of her calves, and a scarf ties around her head like a turban. A necklace made of seashells hangs around her neck. I recognize cockle shells from my own trips to the beaches nearby.

Felicity and I slide to the ground. Felicity says she doesn’t know who the woman is, and she introduces herself as Dinah. The baby is her grandbaby, Judith. Dinah says that she has seen Felicity riding with her grandfather.

Felicity asks what Dinah is doing. She should know she’s not forbidden to leave the quarters after dark. Dinah admits she knows this, and I have a sinking feeling in my gut.

Felicity shares the same thoughts as me and asks if Dinah is running away. To that, Dinah quickly responds she’s merely doing a bit of night-walking. I don’t know what “night-walking” is, but that doesn’t matter. Is Felicity going to tell on Dinah and get her in trouble?