“You have one persistent and very worried grandson. I didn’t have any choice.” He turned toward the door and smiled at us. Moses was already deep in sleep.
I heard the outboard motor getting close and then stop outside the house. Moments later, Mayhew was standing at our side. “You got the doctor. Is Grandpa okay?”
The doctor read the thermometer while taking Moses’ pulse. He got up from the bedside, saying to Bess, “Let’s let him rest.”
Bess motioned to the kitchen. “Come, please, let me make you a cup of coffee or tea.”
“Tea would be nice, thank you.”
Bess had hot water on the stove, put a teabag in a cup, and filled it for Doctor Abbott. She spread some oatmeal cookies on a plate, and placed an empty plate on the kitchen table in front of him. He took a sip of tea and a bite of the cookie.
“My, this is the best oatmeal cookie I think I ever had, and surely the biggest. I’ll have to get the recipe for my wife.”
Mayhew asked, “Is Grandpa going to be okay?”
Bess, said, “I’m sorry, Doctor. This is Lucilla, and this is Mayhew, our granddaughter and grandson.”
The doctor looked at Mayhew. “I believe your grandpa is going to be okay. We’ll know soon. He has what we call pneumonia. It’s fluid in his lungs, and that’s why his breathing is noisy.”
“How will you know if he will be okay?” Lucilla asked.
“His temperature is very high, making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open or talk. If the antibiotic is effective, his temperature will begin to drop very soon, less than an hour, and when we see that, it tells us it’s working.”
Bess said, “What can I do, Doctor Abbott?”
“Just watch his temperature after I leave, and if it begins to climb again, you let me know. And when he’s hungry, probably tomorrow, you give him soup and toast and juice if you have any. Keep him in bed for a few days. No work.”
“Now, that will be the hardest thing for me to do,” Bess said. Looking at us, she added, “I’m going to need you kids to help me keep him in bed.”
“We’ll hide the saws,” I said.
“Saws?” the doctor asked.
Mayhew said, “Yeah, Grandpa sharpens saws, chisels, knives, axes, anything. He’s really good.”
Doctor Abbott nodded his interest and said, “Now, I want to be sure his temperature is heading down before I leave. It is the only way I can be sure the pneumonia is bacterial and not viral. It won’t take long. Until then,” he looked at Mayhew, “I love woodworking. Tell me about the saw sharpening.”
“Would you like to see where he does it?”
“I’d love to.” I saw him smile and nod at Bess as we got up. He took another cookie with him as we went to the back deck.
Mayhew showed him the big sharpening stone and all the special files lined up neatly in the drawer by size. “My,” the doctor said, “I’ve never seen so many different files in my life!”
“Grandpa even sharpens pull saws.”
“Pull saws? What’s a pull saw?”
Mayhew took one off the bench and handed it to the doctor. “You saw by pulling and pushing it. You can push it fine and it works great, but when you pull it, you have better control and it makes good cuts. But it’s really impossible to sharpen.”
The doctor looked closely at the blade. “Will you look at that? So many teeth. And every other tooth is sharpened on the opposite side.”
Mayhew smiled. “It has raker teeth, which really helps you saw.” He picked up a piece of wood, placed it in the vice, and tightened it. “Here, try sawing this wood. Remember, it’s a pull saw.”
The doctor placed the blade on the wood, pulled it toward him, pushed, and pulled again. It moved down into the wood with little effort. “My word! This is oak, and the saw thinks it is butter.” We all smiled as he pushed and pulled the saw.
We watched the doctor experiment, and Mayhew piped up now and then to give him advice. I noticed how happy Mayhew looked—it was nice not seeing him so worried. The doctor mentioned about finding a pull saw for himself, and Lucilla said that Moses would be happy to help him when he got better. Doctor Abbott was thrilled.
Mayhew was just about to show him another file when Bess called out for us, and we went back to the kitchen. She had made ham sandwiches on homemade bread and the kitchen smelled of coffee. We started eating as Bess went in to check on Moses.
“He’s sleeping,” she said when she came out, “and he’s not sweating.”
“Very good,” the doctor said, taking another bite of his sandwich. “I thought your cookies were good, but this bread is wonderful. What kind is this?”
“It’s sourdough. I’ve had the same starter dough for more than thirty years.”
We all watched Doctor Abbott enjoy his sandwich. Bess poured herself a cup of coffee and asked if he would like more tea or some coffee. “Coffee, please,” he replied. Bess poured him a cup of coffee and pushed the plate of cookies toward him. He took another. “You have such a cozy home here.”
We talked for a while, answering his questions about living on a houseboat and how this came to be. He never asked about me being white while my family was Negro. When he was finished, he left the table and went into the bedroom. He shook the thermometer, looked at it, and asked Moses three times to open his mouth. He did, eyes still closed, and the doctor placed the thermometer under his tongue. He took his pulse, nodded, and removed the thermometer to look at it, smiling.
“He’s down a degree already. I’m certain it’s bacterial, not viral—he should be fine in a few days. But if his temperature does go up, you need to come get me again.” He looked over at me.
I nodded, “I sure will, Doctor Abbott.”
He walked to the front deck and Bess handed him a paper bag. “What’s this?” he asked.
“Just some cookies, and I wrote out the recipe for your wife. She will also find some starter dough for the sourdough bread, and I wrote down how to make it, and how to keep the starter dough going. There’s a loaf of bread for your wife so she will see what it looks like, and I took the liberty of making you another ham sandwich.”
His smile was huge. “My goodness. I do thank you, Bess—you’re a sweetheart.”
She smiled back. “Please tell me how much we owe you.”
“Let’s not worry about it right now, okay? In a couple of weeks, when Moses is strong enough to be up and about, I’d like to see him again. Just have him come to the back of the office and knock.”
Mayhew, Lucilla, and I walked the doctor to his car. When he got in, I went forward and said, “Thank you for coming here. I don’t know what would have happened.”
“Son, pneumonia kills many elderly people. You did the right thing by coming and getting me. There is a very good chance he would not have had the strength to fight it off without the antibiotics.”
With tears in her eyes, Lucilla said, “I thank you, Doctor Abbott, so much.”
He smiled, reached out the window, and placed his hand on her head. “You’re more than welcome, pretty girl, I’m just glad I could help.” He smiled at us, started the car, and drove down the lane.
I looked at Lucilla. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. “What’s the matter?” I said. “Grandpa is going to be fine.”
She dropped her gaze to the ground, then reached out and hugged me hard. “Thank you for getting the doctor,” she struggled to say. “Grandpa would have died.”
I squeezed her tightly. “He’s my grandpa, too.”
47
Freedom
IT TOOK ALL FOUR OF US to keep Moses in bed for a few days. When he could no longer stand it, we decided he could venture out to work on the saws for a short time. We told him all about the doctor and his interest in woodworking. He was especially happy to hear that Mayhew had shown him how to use a pull saw.
Three weeks passed, and Moses was back to his healthy self. He and Mayhew were leaving to collect saws. He handed me a long leather case with a hand
le sticking out. I knew right away it was his pull saw. He had sewn the leather case, and with a punch, had hammered the name into the leather, “Doctor Abbott.”
“Wow, Grandpa! He’s really going to love this,” I said, rubbing the oiled leather and pulling the saw out.
Indeed he did. When Moses tried to pay him, the doctor told Moses his gift was payment enough.
We were getting ready to sit down for dinner when we heard a vehicle coming down the path. Mayhew shouted, “Cops!”
I glanced out the window. “No, it’s Jacob’s old truck.”
By the time we got to him, he was out of the truck and absolutely beaming. He grabbed my shoulders and said, “The lawyer done called the office today. All the paperwork is done. He said you need to call him right away.”
Mayhew, Lucilla, and I were jumping and flailing our hands and arms. Moses stepped off the ramp. “What’s all the excitement about?”
“It’s done! The attorney did it. I’m not going to have to hide anymore.”
“You mean it really happened?”
I launched myself into Jacob’s open arms just before I saw Bess coming down the ramp. I let go and ran to her for another big hug. “Grandma, I don’t have to hide. It’s all done.”
“Oh, my boy! I’m so happy I just want to cry.” And she did.
Bess insisted Jacob stay for dinner. I told him Grandma had chicken and dumplings on the stove, and that it was the best in the world. After three bites, Jacob agreed.
48
Through the Bars
THE NEXT DAY, Moses, Mayhew, and I took the boat to the dock to call the lawyer. We were walking off the ramp, heading to the marine office, when we saw a police car coming at us fast, lights flashing and siren blaring. Fat Mac jumped out of the car and lumbered over with a big smile; Smitty stayed in the car.
“Lookin’ like it’s gonna be jail for yous, and plan to stay a while.” He looked at me. “And this time, you ain’t going to escape the State, boy.” He studied Moses with hateful eyes. “I knew damn well you was hiding the boy. Well, yous be paying for it this time.”
I forced a smile. “I don’t have to go to the State, because I have guardians.”
“If’n you think I’m falling for that story, yous got another thing coming, kid.”
“It’s true,” I said. “The lawyer told Jacob it was all official.”
“That’s right,” said Jacob, “now leave them both alone. Everything is taken care of.”
Fat Mac smirked at Jacob. “Bull. Gets your asses in the car. We’s heading to the station.”
“Damn it, it’s the truth!” Jacob said.
“Like hell. Now gets in the damn car before I be puttin’ cuffs on you.”
Jacob made fists and said, “You ass, it’s the truth.” He looked at me. “I’ll call the lawyer.” He looked at Fat Mac. “You damn well stay at the station, because you be getting a call from the lawyer.”
Fat Mac did the jig, “Oh, yous really does scare me. A phone call from a damn lawyer. I’m shivering in my boots.”
Fat Mac put us in different cells again.
* * *
A couple of hours went by, and I was as impatient as a kid can be. “Why hasn’t he called? How much time does he need? It’s been hours.”
Moses smiled. “Jory, sit here with me.”
I sat next to him. He reached his arm through the bars and held my hand.
“Do you know what time really is, Jory?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you think about it, time does not exist at all.”
I only stared at him.
“Time, son, is our way of defining the past, present, and future. But in reality, only the present exists. Since the present constantly changes and different things happen, it seems like time is comprised of many moments, some good and some bad. Right now, you and me talking, this is the only real moment of life. Jory, the present moment is untouched by time.”
“But all the things we’ve done, all the things you’ve taught me—surely they’re real.”
“They were real, and they gave us wonderful memories.”
“But what about when it’s horrible, like now?”
“Ah, you’re right, look at this very moment. Here I am holding the hand of my boy. I think this moment right now is a wonderful moment. Might be nicer if we were sitting on the log next to the fire, but we are here together.”
“But what about when Fat Mac comes in?”
Moses chuckled. “Well, when that happens, don’t give the moment to Fat Mac. Make it your moment, not his.” Then he shook his head. “Fat Mac. Great name.”
I laughed, and Moses said, “That’s what I mean. Make it your moment, a happy one.”
Fat Mac came barging though the door. “And, pray tell, just what the hell does yous think is so funny?”
I looked straight at Fat Mac. “You. You’re a joke. And I’d like to thank you very much for giving Moses and me so much to laugh at.”
Moses rolled his eyes, and I realized too late that that was not quite what he meant. But Fat Mac opened his mouth so wide in shock, his filthy cigar fell to the floor.
“See what I mean?” I said, and I was suddenly shaking with laughter. Moses started chuckling so hard, his chest was jumping up and down.
“No nigger is going to laugh at me,” the cop snarled. “Get up, old man. I’s got some toilets yous going to clean right now.”
Like someone had flicked off a light, there went the happiness and laughter. I wanted to kill him.
“Get up, I told you. Get your dirty ass off that bed.”
Moses stood. He wasn’t laughing anymore, but his head was high.
The door to the office flung open and Jacob came striding toward Fat Mac. “Listen up, Officer Jerk. The lawyer just called the marine office and said he would call here in five minutes. Your phone will ring any second now.”
Just then, the phone rang. “There, I told you. Answer it.”
Fat Mac shoved past Jacob to get the call, and Jacob followed him. We heard talking, arguing, and cursing in the office. Jacob said loudly, “If you don’t want to be sued for false arrest, let them out now! I’m here, like the lawyer asked, to witness the call, so if’n you don’t let them out, you’ll find your ass sued.”
We heard a chair screech and more profanity as Fat Mac and Jacob came down the corridor. Without a word, Fat Mac put the key in the locks and opened our doors.
I smiled, walked out, and gave Jacob a hug. Moses said, “We thank you Jacob for looking after us.”
Moses looked at Fat Mac and started to say something when Fat Mac said, “Get your rotten ass out of here, and you best watch your back. Yous go make a mistake, and I’ll fix that black ass of yours.”
Jacob said, “Why, you—”
Moses raised his hand at Jacob to silence him, while looking at Fat Mac. “We will be on our way, Officer. You take care.”
“Get out of my sight.”
It occurred to me that I had an opportunity to add insult to injury. I followed Moses’ example. “We will be on our way, Officer. You take care.”
I glanced at Moses and could see he was straining not to laugh. I smiled at Jacob; his eyes rolled skyward.
Fuming, Fat Mac said nothing and walked toward the door. We followed the cop and Jacob made a fist. He mimed smashing Fat Mac in the back of the head, which was exactly what I wanted to do.
Outside the station, Jacob considered the two of us. “What in tarnation was that crap?” In a squeaky voice, he said, “Thank you very much, Officer.”
I looked at Moses and we both burst out laughing. Jacob had no idea why. Moses put his arms around our shoulders, and we headed toward the truck.
49
My Home
WE WENT TO THE MARINE OFFICE and I called Stewart at the store. He told me the paperwork was complete and he would come get me. He said he and Madge had talked about it; I would be living with them, and I could stay at my house occasionally—a bribe.
“Stewart, I don’t want to. I’m living here with my grandpa. I told you that. They want me to stay.” I told him I was going to come to Dad’s house—my house—for a day or two to get some of my things.
“But you can go back to your school. You don’t have to go to the colored school.”
“I like the school and I like the teachers and the kids, Stewart.”
He tried to talk to me about moving in with them. I told him I was going to come home Saturday, I would bring Moses and the family, and we would stay the night at my house. I mentioned we would meet him at Dad’s store on Sunday, when it was closed, and I was going to get everybody new clothes. But I wasn’t coming home to stay. I already had a home.
* * *
Jacob drove us to Tchula in his pickup. Mayhew, Lucilla, and I sat in the bed of the truck while Moses and Bess rode in front. We stopped for lunch at the little restaurant I had eaten at when I had first left home. Jacob and I went in and I ordered hamburgers, fries, drinks and dessert to go for everyone.
Stewart had opened the house, and when we arrived, Moses and Bess marveled at it; they thought it was such a big home. I told them they could have Dad’s room, Mayhew could sleep with me in my room, Jacob could have the guest room, and Lucilla the couch in the living room.
Jacob and I went to the grocery store to get a few things after I called Stewart and told him we were home. He said he would drop by.
When he did, I introduced him to my family, and when he shook hands with Moses, he thanked him for taking such good care of me. I was relieved to see how sincere he was.
We all sat in the kitchen while Bess made creamed tuna, rice, sweet corn, and salad for dinner.
Stewart said to Moses, “I told Jory he could live with me and my wife, Madge. He says he wants to live with you rather than us. I just want to know it is what you all want. There’s no reason for you to take care of him any longer.”
Bess turned and looked at Moses with concern in her eyes. Moses said, “If Jory wishes to remain living with us, it will make us all very happy.”
My Water Path Page 21
