{"id":1129,"date":"2026-11-01T00:05:00","date_gmt":"2026-11-01T07:05:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/?p=1129"},"modified":"2026-10-29T17:04:36","modified_gmt":"2026-10-30T00:04:36","slug":"runaway-by-alexander-miller","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/2026\/11\/01\/runaway-by-alexander-miller\/","title":{"rendered":"“Runaway” by Alexander Miller"},"content":{"rendered":"\n


Carston Van Der Bloom could see the small cabin in the distance. It didn\u2019t take him long to track escaped slaves.<\/strong> He\u2019d spent years tracking them all over, and this was no different. It took him two weeks to find Ramses after he\u2019d disappeared from the Harrington plantation. Van Der Bloom tied his horse to a low-hanging branch of a tree and tugged at it to make sure it didn\u2019t wobble at all. He filled the other hand with rope and headed for the cabin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The light from the fireplace danced with the glass of the front window. He knocked at the cabin door, then pulled the hammer back on his pistol. A voice answered in Shawnee, and Van Der Bloom answered in the same tongue. The Shawnee woman opened the door slowly, and a flash from Van Der Bloom\u2019s pistol illuminated his figure as the hot smoke left the barrel of the gun. Her body fell to the wood floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ramses sat by the fireplace as still as a deer in the forest, waiting for the dark figure to approach. Van Der Bloom knelt and used his knife to take the woman\u2019s scalp, using an old lace to tie it to his belt. His steps were slow, and he came to the fireplace and took a seat across from Ramses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid it feel like you were gone long?\u201d Van Der Bloom asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow long does it usually take ye to find folks that run away?\u201d Ramses asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter. All that matters is that I am here now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018Spose I shoulda expected ye.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, you should have.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom looked over his shoulder at the body, then at the space: the traditional logs that made up the walls, the wooden paneled floors, the fireplace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI want to know if, for you, the thought of getting away is as exhilarating as the chase is for me.\u201d Van Der Bloom asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ramses was perplexed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you\u2019ll oblige,\u201d Van Der Bloom said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I saw you get off ye horse, I thought, \u2018he bigger than people say.\u2019 People said you was Dutch and that Dutch people were tall. You came up on the veranda with Benji, the slave ye caught. Chains dragging, fingers stained with dirt, tired, and cold. Virginia\u2019s winters normally ain\u2019t that cold. But, that year, 1860, it was cold and bitter, and we seen a lot of snow.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The last bit of light was leavin\u2019, and it was gettin\u2019 dark. I was workin\u2019 with the cows and horses\u2013a ranch hand, or cowboy, they called us. Me and the other slaves stopped what we were doin\u2019 and just watched. We’d all heard of the mythical slave catcher, Carston Van Der Bloom, and those that didn\u2019t sure was told about him that day. We never saw his eyes or much of his face. We only saw the brim of ye hat, and that always found a way to cover things. You could see the scruffy jaw. Never quite could get a good look at ye.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be damned,\u201d said Mr. Harrington. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Robert Harrington came out of the front door in a thick coat to join the two men on the veranda. He had a big grin on his face. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou do indeed always deliver. I admit, I had my doubts.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo need,\u201d said Van Der Bloom. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Harrington waved his hand to signal to Jones, who was the overseer, and me. The three of us took Benji to the barn to a spot where Jones liked to beat people. He took some of the slave gals there, too. They\u2019d come back to us and be silent for months. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The barn smelt like horse shit and hay bales. Jones tied Benji to a post and told me to stand there and watch. Deep down, I think they always wanted the slaves to watch when they beat one of us. Make us know what\u2019s gon\u2019 happen if we run off. Jones also wanted me there to check on the horses and make sure they was fed.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBenji, don\u2019t you move,\u201d Jones said.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

He slung that whip, and it flicked into Benji\u2019s flesh. The whip made a shallow ditch in the skin, and the white meat quickly ran red. Jones flung it again, making another long piece of open flesh to make an ex. He spat and smirked.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think Mr. Harrington would take it well, you beatin\u2019 Benji too bad,\u201d I said. Benji was one of the best workers on the Harrington plantation, and Mr. Harrington liked Benji in particular for that. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThink about it, Mr. Jones,\u201d I said.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I been beat like that and see that same smirk before. Caught me reading once. I never let him catch me again. Jones shook his coat off. I was trying to stay warm, watching my breath out in front of me. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRamses! Don\u2019t just stand there,\u201d he said. \u201cFetch me a pale of water. I\u2019m gonna need to wash him off when I\u2019m done teachin\u2019 him a lesson. See, you ain\u2019t this brave, Ramses, so you\u2019re safe and good here. No need for me to do you like I\u2019m doin\u2019 this boy.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Never knew why, and no else did either, know what on God\u2019s earth made Mr. Harrington call me Ramses. We all guessed it had somethin\u2019 to do with the Egyptian things he collected all around the house. I never saw the inside of the house, but that\u2019s what the others said. Jones didn\u2019t know that I thought of runnin\u2019 away. I ain\u2019t the only one. I tamed horses. Coulda easily took one and gone, just like that. I had to think about my boy, Otis, all of five years old. Lucky enough, we still together. His momma gone now. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I ran up to the house for the water and set it down for Jones. My coat wasn\u2019t thick like Jones\u2019s, and I was shivering. I looked at it, sittin\u2019 on the dirty ground. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t even think about it,\u201d Jones said.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked away and tried to stand firm, waiting for the man to finish what he was doin\u2019. The sound of Benji hollerin\u2019, the agony, was gettin\u2019 to me. It cut me deep like I was bein\u2019 whipped to death, too. I stopped feeling the cold and was shaking after each strike against that man\u2019s flesh. I thought of Otis, and when he would get grown, he could be whipped like that. Jones was heavin\u2019 between lashes and didn\u2019t hear a damn thing for the two seconds I let that spade drag in the dirt over to where he stood. I ain\u2019t a small man, by no means. Bigger than Jones, for sure. I lifted that spade, and in that cold, my muscles seemed to double in strength at that moment. Me, and it towered over Jones until I brought it down like God brought down lightnin\u2019 and thunder. Benji was on his knees, and he heard Jones\u2019s body hit the dirt. Blood, skin, bone, and hair mussed in the dirt, none of them could see Jones\u2019s face anymore. Benji could barely turn to see the body, and when he did, the pace of his breath and the fatigue in his eyes barely changed. I threw the spade into a pile of hay and put Jones\u2019s coat loosely on Benji\u2019s back. His feet were like weights as he stumbled all the way to the slave house. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some of the other slaves were waiting in the room for Benji, and recognized that it was Jones\u2019 coat that he was wearing.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Pa?\u201d Otis was askin\u2019 for me. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Benji told him I was doin\u2019 God’s work.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

They took the coat and hid it in a corner of the house. Tended to Benji\u2019s wounds with some cotton cloth and such. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I flung Jones\u2019s body on my back, wishing I hit the fool with more than one blow, and I carried him all the way to the old oak tree. Another place Jones liked to whip folks. Night came, and I went back for the spade and dug a trench deep enough to cover Jones. I got back to the house with the others, and \u2018course they had questions.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat you gonna do?\u201d Benji asked.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t know,\u201d I said. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked at Otis, just watchin\u2019 us talk. At that age, they don\u2019t know what\u2019s goin\u2019 on. He knew somethin\u2019 was wrong, but not what. Thinkin\u2019 about leavin\u2019 alone was right and wrong all at the same time. How could I leave my own boy in this condition? We barely survivin\u2019 daily. Harrington\u2019ll get another overseer and keep whippin\u2019 folks. One day, it could be Otis that\u2019s tied to a tree gettin\u2019 lashes. Could have the dogs on him if he run away. All the same stuff could be comin\u2019 his way. It\u2019s just how it was. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ramses took a swig of moonshine and then fingered around in his pocket for a cigarette. He lit it and tossed the match into the fire burning next to them in the living room. Any movement he made, he managed to keep an eye on the barrel of the pistol that pointed at him. Van Der Bloom was as still as a tree, not moving a millimeter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t let my son live like that. Not without me. We packed some things for the journey. I took Otis by the arm and took Jones\u2019s coat. We headed for the barn and found another coat for Otis. It was too big, but it didn\u2019t much matter. We left at night, and since the property was so big, no one was lookin\u2019 for Jones. Not a peep. We get to the edge of the land, and Mr. Douglas is out there havin\u2019 himself a little huntin\u2019. Otis was small enough to get behind a tree. I told him to keep his head down, don\u2019t move, and I\u2019ll be back to get him when I\u2019m done. And I snuck up on Douglas and yanked him off his horse. Big knife he had for guttin\u2019 boars, and I got that off of him. I was quick. Jammed that knife in his belly a few times and left him there in the red snow. Otis and I set off on the horse, \u2018cept you. But you did catch up with us yet.\u2019\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat did you do then? Where did you go?\u201d Van Der Bloom asked Ramses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, only thing that made any sense was to go north,\u201d Ramses said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd that\u2019s how you ended up here in Pennsylvania?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ramses nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are you gonna do now?\u201d Ramses asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom looked at the dead Shawnee woman on the kitchen floor. Her scalp was removed, and the white flesh shone in the light from the fireplace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI may sell this scalp for coin first, then I\u2019m taking you back to the Harrington plantation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe great Carston Van Der Bloom selling scalps? That\u2019d be the day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKilling Indians will always be worth something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUntil they\u2019re gone,\u201d Ramses said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom shrugged. Otis came out of the bedroom and stood at his father\u2019s side. He said he had a nightmare. Ramses\u2019s eyes widened, and he told Otis to go back to bed, but he didn\u2019t listen. Van Der Bloom didn\u2019t seem to mind the boy standing there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen you sat there telling me that story, I thought, \u2018wow, you\u2019ve been through a lot.\u2019\u2019\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe you should let me go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWould you let you go, sitting where I\u2019m sitting?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter what I think. Might not ever matter. Never gonna be white.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve never had any sympathy for your kind. Not going to start now. I have a reputation\u2014one that I earned. Letting you go would change that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNobody got to know you. Let me go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom was silent. Otis got closer and hugged his father. The fire was burning hotter, and Ramses moved the blanket away from his lap. He sniffled, and in the light from the fire, he could see Ramses\u2019 eyes glistening. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t let my boy stay there. I had a chance to go alone, and quickly too. I coulda taken a different way and ended up somewhere else. I brought him into this world, and that might not mean anything to you. To you, him and me just niggers. And the job is to catch us and take us back. Well, after seein\u2019 Benji get whipped like that\u2014like so many others before him, I didn\u2019t want no more of it. Didn\u2019t want it for Otis neither.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll that doesn\u2019t matter to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow could it? You\u2019re a white man. You won\u2019t ever know what it\u2019s like to be me and go through what I been through.\u201d Ramses paused. \u201cYou got any children?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom shook his head. Ramses wiped his eyes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m gon\u2019 bet you wouldn\u2019t let \u2018em live like we was livin\u2019. You\u2019d break away too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With his other hand, Van Der Bloom reached down for the moonshine and poured a gulps-worth into a glass he found. He threw his head back, and the drops of the liquid escaped at the corners of his mouth and wiggled through the coarse hairs of his beard like mice in a maze. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t say anything else. The journey to get you back isn\u2019t a short one, and I anticipate, and I hope I\u2019m wrong, that you may try to escape again. So, the journey may be longer than I want it to be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut do you understand why I had to go? You ain\u2019t got a children, but what would you do? You woulda ran away just like me. You\u2019re a man, and I\u2019m a man. You free, and always gonna be free. The thought of being a slave never occurred to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re certain of that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHavin\u2019 that smell of a new land\u2014a different tree in the forest- was somethin\u2019 else. One of them trees that didn\u2019t lose its leaves in the winter. I knew I wasn\u2019t close to the Harrington house no more. You probably wouldn\u2019t even notice somethin\u2019 like that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom stood up and holstered his pistol. Ramses and Otis held one another while Van Der Bloom went for a bag hanging on the back of his horse and set it down in front of Ramses. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to take something from you,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy? I\u2019ve got nothing left to give. I thought I had freedom, and you\u2019ve taken that away from me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From the bag, Van Der Bloom removed a mallet. He unsheathed a big knife and stood over Ramses with the knife and mallet in each of his hands. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFor the inconvenience,\u201d Van Der Bloom said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He motioned for Ramses to lay his hand on the side table. He stood for a moment looking at the big broad hand and the fingers, analyzing before he put the knife down\u2014a cowboy could still do his job with two fingers missing. He settled on the fourth finger and the small finger of the left hand. Small pieces of wood remained unburned in the fire. He took one chuck of wood and gave it to Ramses to put bit down on. As he gently pressed the mallet atop the knife, the thought did cross his mind to put a bullet in each of their heads and bring nothing back. The bounty was greater if he brought them back alive. They were an investment. No more thinking, he said to himself. He looked at Ramses in the eyes, holding the mallet and the knife. He could see fear, but it was not fear of going back. He also gleaned that from all of the talking he tolerated from Ramses. He held his son\u2019s hand with his free one. The mallet rose and fell. The wood piece was still hot and burned sort of crescent at the corner of Ramses upper lip. The two fingers were put into a small cotton cloth Van Der Bloom brandished immediately. He packed up the bag and strapped back on the horse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Morning fog concealed the sight of Van Der Bloom\u2019s appearance onto the Harrington plantation. He joined Mr. Harrington on the veranda just as he did the week before to return Benji. The other slaves joined together to watch the meeting, looking for sight of Ramses or Otis, or both. Some of them cried, knowing that no slave ever escaped Van Der Bloom. That was his legend, and it added to his myth. Except he was no longer a myth. They\u2019d seen him in the flesh. Some thought he was doing God\u2019s work. That they were meant to be subjected to toil, all day in the sun, sweating through the night, and shivering in the winter. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom opened the cotton cloth, now brown with dried blood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI took his life. He wouldn\u2019t come willingly,\u201d Van Der Bloom said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd the boy?\u201d Harrington asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe boy got away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo matter. He\u2019ll probably die out there. A bear or a wolf\u2019ll get him,\u201d said Harrington. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you want to keep the fingers?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not a savage, for God\u2019s sake.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you satisfied with the evidence of his death?\u201d Van Der Bloom asked, looking at the fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. You can keep those and do what you want with them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Van Der Bloom collected his money, and since his hat was low, and again, no one saw his face. He tucked the cloth containing the fingers back into his coat. Harrington shook his head in both disgust and disbelief. There was still something he admired as he watched the famed slavecatcher walk away, and mount his horse. As he trotted into the fog, he hoped to never see him again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n


I am a Florida native of Jamaican descent currently living in Jersey City, New Jersey. I have been working in the healthcare field in New York, New York, for over seven years. I studied English Literature at Florida International University and I post my poems (sometimes reading aloud), thoughts, readings, and short stories via Substack under A.N. Miller at https:\/\/substack.com\/@anmiller?utm_source=user-menu. I have published short stories such as Maps and Meeting the Maasai in Vocal Media, as well as Cinema in Zouch Magazine. I\u2019m currently writing a collection of poems, as well as a short story collection of Westerns. You can find me on Instagram and Threads at amillersdble. I enjoy exploring how people are shaped by their different cultures and the customs of their times.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Carston Van Der Bloom could see the small cabin in the distance. It didn\u2019t take him long to track escaped slaves. He\u2019d spent years tracking them all over, and this was no different. It took him two weeks to find Ramses after he\u2019d disappeared from the Harrington plantation. Van Der Bloom tied his horse to … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1215,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_hide_featured_image":false,"_jetpack_featured_image_duplicate_dismissed":0,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"nfd_image_url":"","nfd_onboarding_generated":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1129","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/11\/olivier-guillard-FKJgBUDoVC0-unsplash.jpg?fit=1920%2C1280&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1129","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1129"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1129\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1130,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1129\/revisions\/1130"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1215"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1129"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1129"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1129"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}