by Ginny Dye
The children all crowded closer to hear her answer.
“They are afraid because they have lost control,” Carrie said carefully. “Slavery was a horrible, wrong thing, but it made whites feel in control. They’ve lost the control now, so they are afraid.” She could hear more of the walls collapsing behind her. “They are trying to regain control by making all of us afraid.”
“I be afraid,” Wally admitted in a small voice.
The murmur of voices from the other children and the fright shining from the adults’ eyes said they were all feeling the same thing.
Carrie allowed the fury she had tamped down to surge upward, obliterating any feeling of shame or fear. She stood, gazed at the remnants of the schoolhouse and clinic for several long moments, and then spun back around to face the group just as all of the men and their families from Cromwell Plantation ran up, their eyes wide with questions.
“It takes a coward to burn something down,” she called loudly for the benefit of everyone listening, seen and unseen. “It takes courage to build it again.” She waved her hand toward the flames. “The fire will go out. We will rebuild.” Carrie let her eyes sweep over the group, watching as, very slowly, fear began to ebb from their faces. “We will rebuild!” she said firmly. “We worked together to build it before. We will build it again.”
Carrie motioned to Robert to join her. “Robert and I will leave in the morning to get more wood. While we are gone, all of you will clear away the rubble and prepare the foundation. We’ll be able to bring enough to frame everything. You can also start cutting down the trees you’ll need to finish it.” She took a deep breath. “Any time someone attacks you, it is normal to feel fear, but then you have to push it aside and keep moving forward. All of you will be back in school as soon as possible.”
Carrie felt Rose beside her before she heard her voice.
“All of you will be back in school tomorrow,” Rose said firmly, all fear gone from her voice. “I used to teach a secret school on Cromwell Plantation when I was a slave,” she revealed. “Every time my students went to school they risked being beaten. They came anyway because they wanted to learn. We don’t have to hide in the woods, because we are free.” Her voice rose with the flames, defiance and courage pressing against the darkness. “No one can take away our freedom. They may fight it, but they can’t take it away. It’s up to us to push past the fear and create the life we want.”
Abby stepped forward, joining hands with Carrie and Rose. “I will make sure a wagonload of books returns with the lumber,” she promised. Her eyes glistened with emotion. “Please know that while it was white men who destroyed your school, there are plenty of white people who want to see you living freely with equal rights. We will continue to fight with you until things are better.”
Gradually, fear faded from the faces surrounding them.
Gabe stepped forward. “I’ll be here early tomorrow morning to start clearing the rubble,” he called. His eyes swept the crowd. “Who is with me?” Twenty men stepped forward quickly. “We’ll work early every morning until we have to start work in the fields. It won’t take us long to get it ready.”
Polly stepped forward next. “I’m going to need help making sure there is food here every morning to keep these men working. Who will help?” Another large crowd of women stepped forward, their faces determined.
Justine stepped forward next, her eyes shining with courage. “Me and the other students want to help. We’ll be here in the morning, too.” She raised a hand when she saw Rose open her mouth to protest. “This is our school, Miss Rose. We’ll still come to school after we help, but we’re not just going to sit back and do nothing.”
“Yes! It’s our school, too,” Amber called, her eyes fixed on her brother leaning against the tree, his face tight with pain. “Clint tried to save the school. We want to be a part of rebuilding it. My mama will feed us, too.”
Justine looked at Polly. “Do you think there will be enough food for us, ma’am?”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Polly vowed, her eyes shining with pride.
Moses and Robert stepped up to stand beside the four women. They turned as one unit to face the darkness. The entire crowd turned in the same direction.
“We will rebuild,” Moses called, his deep voice ringing through the night. “If you burn it down again, we will build it again. And again. And again. You cannot destroy us. You cannot take away our freedom.”
There was a shift in the air as Moses spoke. Rose watched in awe as everyone turned to look at him, their eyes fixed on his strong face. It was as if the last remaining fears had taken wing and flown over the treetops with the billowing smoke.
“Freedom has to be fought for,” Moses continued. “We spent all our years in slavery wishing to be free. Now we are. We hoped it would be easy, but it is never going to be easy.” He reached down and picked up Wally, holding the slight boy easily in his arms. “We’re going to fight for ourselves, but mostly we are going to fight for our children. We’ll fight for all those who will come after us. We already know there are people out there who will fight to take away our freedom. We won’t let them.” He paused, straightening even more as he turned to gaze at the fire. “Whatever they destroy…we will build it again.”
“We will build it again,” the crowd echoed, their voices and faces resolute.
Moses wasn’t done. “The men who burned down the school believe they can control us with fear. That’s how they controlled us through all the years of slavery. They took away our rights to choose, they stole our families, and they beat us into submission.” He paused for a long moment. “Never again,” he roared. “Never again.”
“Never again!” the crowd echoed defiantly. “Never again!”
Rose cuddled up against Moses after the long night finally ended and they were back home in their bedroom. “I am so proud of you,” she whispered.
“I’m proud of you,” Moses responded. “You didn’t let fear get the best of you tonight.”
Rose winced. “I came close.” She forced her eyes to stay open, knowing that if she closed them she would see the flames destroying the schoolhouse.
“All of us came close,” Moses insisted. “There is a lot going on in this world that is scary. We would be less than human if we didn’t feel fear. We just can’t let it beat us. You didn’t let it beat you tonight,” he said tenderly. “That’s why I’m proud of you.”
“You’re doing it again,” Rose said quietly.
Moses hesitated, not understanding the expression on her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I saw you become someone else tonight,” Rose said finally, her eyes fixed on him. “I’ve always known you’re a leader, but something happened to you tonight.”
Moses stared at her. He wanted to refute her words, but he was afraid she was right.
“What happened to you out there?” Rose asked. “What were you feeling?”
Moses turned to gaze out the window, seeing nothing but dark shadows. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “At first I just felt so angry and helpless. I couldn’t believe the school was on fire. When I found the note I realized this is probably just the beginning of their attempts to scare and intimidate us.”
Rose shuddered slightly but continued to listen.
“I was really scared for a minute, but then I realized that was just giving them what they wanted.” His voice deepened. “I refuse to give them what they want.”
“There!” Rose exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard, as she stared at him. “You’re doing it again.”
Moses shook his head. “You’re going to have to help me out here. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“When I was in Philadelphia I got to hear a lot of people speak. Many of them were very important people. I listened because I knew they had something worthwhile to say, but there were only a few of them who captured my heart and mind.” Rose spoke more slowly. “I knew those few people were
real leaders because they had the ability to make people feel more than they were feeling. They could make people better than they were.” She grabbed one of Moses’s hands. “You did that tonight,” she whispered. “You made every person there choose to be better than they are.”
“Or maybe just choose to be as great as they truly are,” Moses argued. “I didn’t change anyone tonight.”
“If all they did was choose to be as great as they truly are, then you changed them,” Rose insisted. “So many of those people were cowering in fear until you started talking. I watched their faces. I saw the change. Did you do that in the army, too?” she asked suddenly.
Moses shrugged, uncomfortable with the whole discussion. “I don’t know.”
“You did,” Rose replied calmly. “I heard Captain Jones enough to know what kind of leader you were.”
Moses shifted, not wanting to continue the conversation. “I’m a farmer now. A farmer who is going to be very tired in the morning if I don’t get some sleep.”
Roses smiled and raised her hand to lay it on his cheek. “You’re not a farmer, Moses.”
Moses felt a flash of alarm, mixed with a spark of anger. “What are you talking about?” he asked sharply.
Rose didn’t flinch. “Oh, you’re a great farmer, and you’re doing a fine job running the plantation, but you’re so much more than a farmer. Every person there tonight saw you as a leader. You replaced their fear with determination. That’s a gift, Moses.”
Moses gritted his teeth. “It’s not a gift I want,” he said stubbornly. “I did what I had to tonight. I will help rebuild the school, and then I will go back to running the plantation.”
Rose just settled back against the headboard and smiled.
Moses shook his head. “This isn’t funny, Rose.”
“No, I suppose it’s not. It’s never funny when you don’t want to be what you are.”
Moses bit back his angry reply, suddenly questioning why he was so upset. He thought of all the years of abuse as a slave. His mind filled with images of men slaughtered in battle, their bloated corpses staring up at him. He had fought for freedom. He had paid the price. Now he just wanted to run the plantation, be with Rose, and raise his children.
Rose looked at him tenderly. “You’ve been a leader from the day I met you, but I never saw it quite as clearly as I saw it tonight.” Her voice grew firmer, her eyes more direct. “Our people need you, Moses.”
Moses stared at her. “I don’t want to be needed,” he said bluntly, cringing inwardly at his words but meaning them completely.
“I know.”
Moses heaved a heavy sigh. “You look just like your mama right now.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “Really?” She sounded pleased.
“Your mama used to look at me just like that — like she was giving me time to come around to her way of thinking.”
Rose smiled. “I know that look. She used to look at me like that all the time. She never pushed anything. She just looked at me until I quit fighting whatever it was I knew I needed to do.”
Moses scowled again. “What makes you think I know what I need to do?” He bit back a laugh when Rose just continued to gaze at him. He pulled her down to lay beside him. “Whether you’re right or wrong, I’m not making a decision about anything tonight. I’m going to get some sleep and then get up early so I can have the school ready for the wood and supplies Carrie and Robert will bring back. I know you and your students will be fine outside for a few days, but we have a school to rebuild.”
Rose snuggled into him again, her warmth offering him a comfort he desperately needed, though he couldn’t quite identify why he needed it.
His head was a swirl of contradictory feelings and thoughts as he finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twelve
Opal breathed in the fresh air as she knelt in the newly tilled soil. The first thing she had done when she arrived at the home of Eddie’s brother, Clark, was offer to plant a garden. Now the entire backyard looked just like Fannie’s had when she first arrived in Richmond. There were little paths, but with that exception, everything else was planted. Most seeds were still germinating beneath the dark soil, but three weeks of warm weather had produced the bright green beginnings of carrots, onions, radishes, peas, and lettuces. The okra, corn, peppers, tomatoes, and watermelon would follow shortly. There was a separate bed for the potatoes that were already coming up. In a few weeks they would be eating luscious new potatoes. With everyone in the house working, there was money for fresh butter to put on them.
Jewel found her cooing over the carrots. “I declare. You look like a mother with her babies.”
Opal grinned. She and Clark’s wife had struck up an easy friendship. Close quarters could create tense situations, but there had been none in the month or so since they had arrived. Clark and Jewel seemed genuinely glad to have them there.
Eddie and Clark had been separated by the auction block when they were young children. Eddie had bought his freedom when he was in his early twenties. Clark had remained a slave until the end of the war. He’d been one of the few who had been so sequestered on his plantation deep in the cotton fields of Alabama that he’d not even heard of the Emancipation Proclamation, and no Union troops had arrived to tell him of his freedom. He knew there was a war being fought, but he just continued to work the fields. It wasn’t until a few months after the end of the war that the news reached his plantation. He and Jewel left the next day with their children, working their way slowly toward Richmond. He was looking for his brother. When he had discovered Eddie was in Philadelphia, he got a missionary teacher to write a letter. The two brothers were thrilled to be together again.
Amber Lou had become fast friends with their twelve year old, Cindy, and Carl was inseparable from his cousin, George, who was the same age as him.
Opal smiled at the plants. “They are my babies,” she agreed. “Just wait until every meal has food we pick right out of the backyard.”
Jewel nodded. She was almost as tall as her husband, who stood just an inch shorter than his tall, skinny brother. There was not a spare ounce of flesh on her body, but she didn’t look skinny. She simply looked elegant. Her face was calm as she gazed out over the garden.
“How do you do it?” Opal asked enviously.
“Do it?”
“You’ve got your everyday dress on, and still you manage to look regal. I swear you look just like a queen surveying her kingdom. I, on the other hand, look like a frumpy, overweight black woman.”
Jewel laughed. “Nonsense. You look like a carin’, lovin’ mother who will do anythin’ to take care of them she loves. You be strong, sensitive and kind. That’s what I see when I look at you.” She waved her hand over the plants. “I never would have thought to do this. Our owner didn’t let us have our own gardens. I sho nuff love bein’ free, but I’m still learnin’ how to live this way,” she said regretfully. “I’m not sure I’m doing it very good.”
Opal snorted. “You’re doing just fine, Jewel. You have a home, your kids are in school, and your husband has a good job.”
“Because of Eddie,” Jewel observed. “Clark tried for a job at Cromwell Factory before, but he got turned down. As soon as Eddie got here and went to work, somethin’ came open for him. Eddie never said nothin’ when we asked, but I knows it be because of him.”
Opal merely smiled, pleased the arrangement was working for everyone. She had started at the factory just two weeks earlier. She couldn’t say sewing was something she enjoyed, but she was getting the hang of it. Even helping with household expenses, she and Eddie were able to put some money aside toward the new restaurant they dreamed of. Jewel stayed home to watch the kids to make sure they stayed out of trouble and went to school.
“Marcus is coming for dinner tonight,” Jewel announced.
“That’s good,” Opal murmured, pulling tiny weeds from around the fledgling onion shoots. “He and Eddie been friends for a right long time. I’m glad h
e was still here in Richmond.”
“He says he hopes there will be sweet potato casserole.”
Opal chuckled. “At least I will have one customer when we open our new restaurant.” She pulled the last weeds and stood, brushing the dirt off her dress. “It’s already in the oven.” She glanced at the pile of wood next to the back door. “Did Carl and George fill the wood box in the kitchen?”
Jewel nodded but her thoughts were on something else. “I can hardly wait for the Emancipation Parade tomorrow.”
Opal nodded, her thoughts full of memories. “I can hardly believe it’s been a year since Richmond fell.” Her lips twitched. “I imagine the white folks are still mad we’re celebrating it now, instead of back in January when the Emancipation Proclamation was signed.”
Jewel shrugged. “We’re free now. Folks didn’t for real feel free until Richmond fell and all them black soldiers came pouring into town. Me and Clark didn’t know nothin’ about it back then, but we done heard all the stories. It’s our day to celebrate.” Her face glowed with excitement. “Tomorrow is gonna be a fine day.”
“What time are the men going to be here tonight?” Opal asked.
“About an hour, I reckon. They had a meeting to go to at the church.”
“Jeremy going to be there?” Opal asked, still astonished at Jeremy’s involvement to help everyone. He had become a fixture at the Second African Baptist Church, showing up at least two nights a week after working at the factory. His business acumen was helping many of the men, and he was also helping them understand the political system.
“Not tonight,” Jewel answered. “Clark was here long enough to tell me some machines went down at the factory today. He’s staying late tonight to help fix them.”
Abby was tired after an achingly long day. She had seen Robert and Carrie off with two wagons loaded down with framing lumber, and as many school supplies as she could round up on such short notice. She would send another wagon full of books the next week when the Missionary Society delivered them. A telegraph to a good friend in Philadelphia, apprising her of the situation, had resulted in a promise of all the books she requested.
