Glimmers of Change

by Ginny Dye

  “Time for us to leave the plantation.”

  Rose stiffened and pushed back further so she could study his face. “What did you say?”

  Moses nodded, pulling her back against him. “Going through the riot made me realize I truly do want to be a leader for our people.”

  Rose pushed clear again, crossing her legs into a sitting position so she could see him clearly. “Tell me,” she invited, stunned by his sudden proclamation. She knew so little about the riot. Moses had brought home a pile of newspapers with the articles Matthew wrote, but she hadn’t read them yet. She listened as Moses painted a picture of the horror he endured, her own horror growing with each word he spoke. Tears filled her eyes when he described Felicia’s parents being killed, and she shuddered when he revealed how close he had come to taking on the police himself.

  When he finished recounting the riot, Moses took a deep breath. The remaining anguish had fled as he told Rose everything that happened. The play of emotion on her face helped him release his own. “For the first time, I had a clear understanding of what every black person in this country is up against now that we are free. None of us are truly free as long as we are controlled by the hatred and contempt of people determined to keep us in the same conditions we endured as slaves.”

  Rose nodded but didn’t respond. She was content to listen for now, watching the strong sense of purpose filling Moses’s face.

  “I realized during the riot that it was a lack of leadership that allowed the riot to happen in the first place. It’s certainly what kept it going for as long as it did. No one wanted to step forward and claim leadership because it meant more risk.” His voice held both contempt and anger.

  Rose continued to sit quietly, letting him work through what he was feeling.

  “You told me after the school fire that our people needed me. I didn’t want to be needed,” he admitted. “Now I realize I could never live with myself if I merely stand idle while other people fight for my rights. I want to be able to look my children in the eye someday and know they understand that I fought for them to have a better life.” He reached over to take Rose’s hand. “That we fought for them to have a better life.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Rose asked.

  “We have to leave the plantation,” Moses said firmly. “It’s time for you to go to college. We made enough this year from the plantation to pay for the next year.” He hesitated and then forged forward. “For both of us.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “Both of us?”

  Moses nodded. “I’m going to become an attorney. Things won’t really change until the laws change and until our people have representation from one of their own.”

  Rose’s thoughts spun as she looked into his eyes. Suddenly she smiled. “You will be a fabulous attorney,” she said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. Pride swelled in her until she was afraid it would overwhelm her. “Moses Samuels, attorney-at-law. It has a nice ring to it.”

  “You don’t think I’m crazy?” Moses asked. His voice was casual, but his eyes said he needed reassurance.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “You really think I can go to college?”

  Rose chuckled. “You will breeze through college. You learned to read so quickly, and I know how fast you have been devouring the books in Thomas’s library. You have already absorbed more information than most people I know.”

  Moses hesitated. “Becoming an attorney might put us in more danger. The whites will see me as more of a threat.”

  “Yes,” Rose agreed, surprised she could be so calm about it but knowing her feelings were still being carried by her mysterious conversation that morning with her mother. “I suppose they will, but it’s true that neither one of us can live with ourselves if we don’t do all we can to make sure our children and all the rest of our people have a better life. I thought we agreed we weren’t going to let fear stop us from doing what we believe is right.”

  A smile played on Moses’s lips. “Then we leave?”

  “Yes,” Rose said again, “but not yet,” she added firmly. She could hardly believe the words were coming out of her mouth, but she knew they were right.

  Moses blinked. “What?”

  “It’s too soon,” Rose said calmly. “Hope is not old enough yet, and Felicia doesn’t need more turmoil in her life. You saw her face when she was with the horses today. She needs time to heal in a place that is safe. She needs a sense of stability before we move her into another adventure. It’s simply too much to ask of her now.” As she spoke, her confidence in her decision grew. “It’s not time to leave the school, and there are people right here who need you to lead them.”

  Moses stared at her. “I thought you were eager to leave.”

  Rose smiled. “I am.” She told Moses what had happened down by the river earlier that morning. “We’re going to leave here,” she said softly, “but we still have some blooming to do right here.”

  Moses frowned but his eyes said he agreed. “How long do we stay?”

  “A year,” Rose announced, a little stunned by her certainty. “One year.” She smiled suddenly and launched herself into Moses’s arms. “I’m so very proud of you,” she whispered. She kissed him deeply and then looked toward the window, stunned when she realized the glow in the distance was the sun coming up.

  Moses’s eyes followed hers. He laughed when he saw the glow lightening the horizon. “I have a perfect way to welcome a new day,” he said quietly into her ear, stroking her hair back as he gazed into her eyes.

  “You haven’t had enough?” Rose teased.

  “Of you? Never.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Carrie breathed a sigh of relief when she left school, the late afternoon sun painting the surrounding buildings with a golden glow. She loved every minute of her medical studies, but she was tired to the core. All she wanted was to go home and relax over dinner before she dug into her books for the night. “Thank goodness there is no one out here to harass us tonight!” she exclaimed. “I’m much too tired to ignore them right now. I’m sure I would say something I totally mean and wouldn’t regret at all.”

  Janie grinned. “Why ignore them? I’ve been wondering what would happen if all of us joined together, rushed one of the hecklers, and beat them up. I believe it would be quite satisfying.”

  Carrie laughed but gave Janie a considering look. “Sometimes I hardly recognize you,” she said, only half in jest.

  “I hope so,” Janie said firmly. “I find that each day changes me a little more.”

  “Do you like who you are becoming?”

  “I do,” Janie said quickly. “Do you?”

  Carrie gazed at her. “Would it matter?”

  Janie considered the question as they began to walk down the sidewalk. “It shouldn’t,” she admitted, “but I’m afraid it does.”

  “You’re right that it shouldn’t matter,” Carrie replied, “but I’m also happy to tell you I’m thrilled with who you are becoming. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

  Janie flushed and her eyes glistened with gratitude. “I spent my first couple months here watching every man on the street because I was terrified Clifford would suddenly appear.”

  “And now?”

  “And now there are times I wish he would so that he could see he has absolutely no power over me!” Janie answered. “Sometimes I can hardly believe I was the terrified woman in my memories. When I think about those months in Raleigh under Clifford’s control, it seems I must be thinking about another woman.”

  The memory of Janie’s swollen and bruised face when she had first arrived at the plantation after her escape never failed to fill Carrie with anger. “I wish Clifford would walk up to us right now. At least Robert had the satisfaction of beating him up. I would so love to have the same privilege.”

  Janie laughed but eyed her speculatively. “Would you really, Carrie?”

  Carrie considered the question, but it didn’t take her long to determin
e her answer. “Yes. I used to think anger was a bad thing…”

  “And you don’t anymore?”

  Carrie spoke carefully, wanting to make sure she stated what she truly believed. “I don’t think anger is a bad thing, but I think it can make us do bad things if it gets out of control.”

  Janie gazed at her. “You don’t think beating up Clifford would be a bad thing?”

  Carrie grinned at the hopeful tone in her friend’s voice. “Killing him would be a bad thing — giving him a taste of what he did to you would be nothing but eminently satisfying!”

  Janie chuckled and then fell silent for several moments. “You’re changing too,” she observed.

  “I hope so,” Carrie responded. Almost a month had passed since the Women’s Rights Convention. She had told Janie about her revelations during the conference, but her first full month of school had done nothing but intensify her convictions.

  Janie continued to look at her. “Did something happen today?”

  Carrie fell silent, not sure she was ready to talk about it. She took deep breaths of the spring air. June had brought sultry warmth to the streets of Philadelphia, but the evenings were still refreshingly cool. She let her thoughts simmer as she admired the window boxes full of colorful zinnias and purple coneflowers. Beds of blue flag irises waved proudly in the breeze, while peonies provided vibrant splashes of color against the brick townhouses lining the road. She knew Janie would wait for her to sort through her thoughts and that her friend would also understand if she didn’t want to talk at all. The last month of studying and living together had erased the long months they had been apart during Janie’s marriage, making them closer than ever.

  “Dean Preston asked me to meet with a doctor here in Philadelphia today,” she finally revealed. Janie eyed her curiously but remained silent. Carrie ran through her conversation with Dr. Henry Chambers in her mind, her anger growing. “He infuriated me!” she said in a sudden burst of emotion.

  “Why?” Janie asked carefully.

  “He’s an idiot,” Carrie said bluntly. Janie snorted with laughter, her expression inviting explanation. “He started by telling me he didn’t usually lower himself to speak to women medical students.” Her eyes widened. “Can you believe he actually said lowered? I wanted to walk out right then.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t.”

  “I was too curious to leave. I wanted to know why Dean Preston had set up the meeting,” Carrie admitted. “Dr. Benson recommended it, but I suspect there was another reason.”

  “Dr. Benson? From New York City?”

  “Yes. He recommended Dr. Chambers meet with me to learn about what the Metropolitan Board of Health has done in New York City.”

  Janie nodded somberly. “I’ve heard more cases are cropping up there.”

  “Yes. It’s just a matter of time until it begins to spread across the country. I don’t believe New York will suffer like it has in the past, but there is no place else in the country that is as prepared as they are to deal with it. When it begins to spread, there will be many deaths,” Carrie predicted grimly.

  “Why didn’t Dr. Benson just give Dr. Chambers the information he needed?”

  Carrie had wondered the same thing. She stopped to consider it more fully, a smile of appreciation flitting across her lips when she figured it out. “Dr. Benson wants me to fully understand what I’m up against,” she finally concluded. “I suspect that was also Dean Preston’s reason for pushing it.”

  “I see,” Janie murmured.

  Carrie laughed at her confused expression. “I realize I’m not giving you much to work with here.” She settled in to enlighten her friend. “After Dr. Chambers told me he didn’t usually lower himself to talk to women medical students, he got a patronizing, fatherly look on his face and asked me if I understood what a risk I was taking being a medical student.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Before I could even respond, he proceeded to enlighten me,” Carrie continued scornfully. “He warned me that higher education and the autonomy it could provide would cause the degeneration of my reproductive organs, and that I was also contributing to the ultimate decline of civilization and the family.”

  “Oh dear,” Janie murmured.

  “Then he explained that he had been given the awesome responsibility as a medical professional to play a role in the debate over women’s nature.” She didn’t bother to control the fury in her voice. “Women’s nature!” Carrie was aware of several heads turning as she raised her voice with disgust, but she didn’t care. “He is working with a group of local male physicians to write prescriptive literature regarding women’s health, sexuality, and gender roles. Can you imagine? He then told me he feels a grave responsibility to give voice to the traditional definitions of femininity that must of course limit women’s social role to staying at home and bearing children.”

  Janie chuckled.

  Carrie swung around to stare at her friend with blazing eyes. “You find something humorous in that?”

  Janie only laughed more loudly. “What I am waiting for is the end of this story. I’m quite certain I’m going to find your response to Dr. Chambers very humorous indeed. I wish I could have been there in the room when he was spouting his nonsense.”

  Carrie’s anger melted as she smiled wryly. “I told him I was sure he would benefit from what I had learned in New York City, but that I found it completely offensive to communicate with a man who was afraid of a woman’s strength.”

  Janie nodded. “I knew it would be good,” she said with satisfaction. “What did he say?”

  Carrie smiled. “He told me he wasn’t surprised that I had fallen in with the feminist movement. I told him that some of my favorite feminists are the wonderful men in my life who recognize the equality and full humanity of women and men.” She laughed as she remembered how red his face had gotten as he struggled for a response. “Before he had a chance to say anything else, I asked him if Edward Chambers was his son.” She smiled at Janie’s confused expression. She had only figured out the connection herself several minutes into their conversation. “Dr. Chambers looked just as confused as you do. I then proceeded to tell him Dr. Benson had recommended he talk to me because I had saved his son’s life at Chimborazo.”

  “You did?” Janie gasped.

  Carrie nodded. “Edward was born in Georgia. His family moved north, but he stayed. When the war started, he fought for the Confederacy. He was brought into our unit after one of the battles at Cold Harbor. He was afraid he would lose his leg, but we managed to save it.” Her expression softened. “We almost lost him during surgery, but he pulled through. He was there for several weeks so we had a chance to get to know one another.”

  Janie stared at her. “How did Dr. Chambers respond?”

  “I didn’t give him a chance,” Carrie said crisply. “I told him that from what I could tell, his son had far more sense than he did because he had not cared one bit who treated him during the war as long as they knew what they were doing. Then I left.” She felt a surge of satisfaction as she retold the story. She could still see Dr. Chambers’s mouth opening and closing slowly, not a sound coming out, as she had sailed from the room.

  “Does Dean Preston know?” Janie asked, her eyes dancing with laughter and admiration.

  “Yes,” Carrie said. At first she had been afraid of Dean Preston’s response. She had grown to greatly admire her, and didn’t want to disappoint her. “She laughed, nodded, and told me she suspected it would go about like that. She told me she was proud of me for standing up to him.”

  The smile faded from Janie’s face as she shook her head. “Do you really think it will ever change?”

  Carrie pondered whether to tell her what she truly believed and then decided she didn’t need to soften the things she said. “I do,” she said firmly, “but I don’t know that it will change in our lifetime. You said it yourself while we were in New York. The attitudes most men have about women have been developed o
ver centuries. I believe we’ll make great strides if we have the courage to press through the challenges, but I predict it will take more than our generation to see true change.”

  “I see,” Janie murmured, disappointment shadowing her eyes.

  Carrie laughed. “I think it is wonderful!” she proclaimed.

  “Excuse me?”

  Carrie laughed louder, understanding the expression on Janie’s face. “Don’t you understand? The women who follow in our footsteps may have it easier, but they’ll never have the satisfaction that comes from being revolutionary. They won’t be able to look back and know they battled through men’s ridiculous ideas to open the doors for women to any field they wish to excel in.” Her eyes glowed passionately. “We’re becoming doctors because we want to make a difference, Janie. The wonderful thing is that just by doing that we’re going to make a difference for every woman in the nation for generations to come.”

  Janie stopped walking and turned to look at Carrie for several moments. “Aren’t you ever afraid?” she finally asked.

  Carrie nodded. “Every day,” she admitted easily. “I hate knowing that almost every man I see believes I am less than them. I hate knowing I am putting myself in danger every day simply because I want to be a doctor, but…” her voice trailed off as a cable car rumbled by.

  “But what?” Janie pressed, as the noise abated.

  “But I am more afraid of not standing up to them. I couldn’t live with myself if I let someone else’s beliefs — whether they are a man or a woman — dictate how I live my life.” She shook her head. “I’m not really brave. I just refuse to let someone else control me,” she said firmly.

  Matthew swung off the train and grabbed his bag. No one knew he was coming home today, so there wasn’t a carriage waiting for him. He didn’t care. It was a beautiful day to walk through Richmond. He welcomed the exercise after the long train ride from Washington, DC.

  He smiled when he felt the genuine optimism pervading the air. Many of the buildings that had been burned at the end of the war had not been rebuilt yet, but the entire downtown area was now free of rubble, and foundations were being laid for new structures to take their place. The streets were crowded with people laughing and talking as they went about their business. He let the good feelings propel him forward as he hurried up the hill to Thomas’s house, but he wondered how these people would feel if Congress succeeded in moving forward with their plans for Radical Reconstruction. The aftermath of the Memphis Riot had made it almost certain they would get their way.