Belle

by Beverly Jenkins

  The month of June slid into the warm hot, hazy days of July, and just as Daniel predicted, July fourth was not celebrated. It passed as just another day. By mid-July, Belle was ready to tackle the basic rudiments of reading. She found it much harder than printing or learning the alphabet because it all seemed so confusing. Take the letter e, for instance. Belle couldn’t understand why it did so many things to so many words. It could turn tap into tape and hop into hope. When it stood beside the letter i, it had the power to turn nice into niece, and sometimes, it made the letter y take its place, as in the words early and curly. Belle found all the rules and the exceptions to the rules frustrating. She was disheartened at times, but she didn’t give up.

  Daniel enlisted the Morgan brothers to help with Belle’s classical education. Before opening the area’s general store, their mother and late father had been teachers in Canada and thus had a very extensive library. The Morgans had books that opened Belle’s world to famous works of art and to people in faraway lands. They read her fables and myths, sonnets and limericks. Learning with them was fun for Belle but she couldn’t help but notice that neither of the brothers was as playful or as happy-go-lucky as he’d been before their kidnapping.

  At the end of one of their sessions, Belle walked Jeremiah back to the wagon parked in front of the house. He’d come alone today. Adam had stayed to help at the store. “Thanks again,” she told him as he climbed up into the seat.

  “You’re welcome.” Jeremiah picked up the reins. He looked down at Belle. “Can I ask you something?”

  He seemed so serious, and his eyes were so bleak, Belle nodded. “Yes.”

  “How’d you survive it?”

  She knew what he meant. Slavery. “I didn’t know anything else.”

  He looked off into the distance. “Adam and I couldn’t bear it for even two days. They took our clothes, our shoes. We were put on the block with nothing on, and handled as if we were animals.”

  Belle’s lips tightened sympathetically.

  He went silent then and Belle could only imagine the degradation he must be remembering. “You’re home safe now, Jeremiah.”

  “But it could happen again,” he told her. “Watson could break into our home and drag us off and—”

  He seemed to shake himself back to the present. “I’m sorry, Belle. I didn’t mean to burden you with my troubles.”

  “It’s all right. We’re friends, remember?”

  He gave her a ghost of a smile. “You were our light. Adam kept saying to me, ‘Belle did this for sixteen years, and survived. We can, too.’”

  “And you did,” she pointed out softly.

  He shrugged. “I’m still having nightmares. Half-grown man, having nightmares like a child.”

  “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I suppose,” he replied. “Well, let me get on home. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “All right.”

  As he drove away, Belle watched until he disappeared from sight.

  When Daniel had gone by Francine’s house a few days after the Morgans’ homecoming party, he’d been informed by Hodges that she and her father were gone to Windsor to visit friends, and wouldn’t return for a month. Daniel found that quite convenient, but he’d thanked Hodges and left. Now the month was up. According to rumor, she’d returned last night.

  Hodges let him in, and directed him to the well-furnished drawing room.

  At his entrance, Francine, all in blue, stood and smiled. “Hello, darling.” She came to him and placed her arms around his waist. “Give me a kiss so I’ll know you missed me.”

  Daniel looked down into her eyes, and said quietly, “Tell me about you and Hood.”

  Her gaze went chasing off. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Rumors are going around saying you two are sparking.”

  Francine backed away. Her voice was cool. “Your sister has never liked me—”

  “This has nothing to do with Jo. Is it true?”

  Daniel could see her gauging his mood and whether she could get away with fabricating a reply. He knew her well because he’d known her a long time.

  “It’s this way, Daniel. Paul and I—well, I think I’m in love with him.”

  Daniel’s jaw tightened. So it was true. He felt like a fool. “Then I hope you’ll be happy.”

  “Oh, Dani, don’t look like that. If this doesn’t work out, you know I’ll be back.”

  “But I won’t want you back.”

  She stared. “Daniel?!”

  “Francine, what do you think this is? I’m not going to wait around to see if you and Hood work out.”

  “Well, why not?”

  “Self-respect, Francine. Do you know what that is?”

  Her lips thinned. “It’s that little runaway, isn’t it?”

  “Belle didn’t cause this. You did.”

  “You do like her, don’t you?”

  “And what if I do?”

  “She’s an ignorant—”

  The anger in his face stopped her. Francine didn’t finish the sentence. She said instead, “Then I suppose there’s nothing left for us to talk about. Hodges will show you out.”

  Daniel left gladly.

  When Daniel returned home, his parents were sitting on the front porch watching the fiery sunset.

  “How’s Francine?” his father asked him.

  “Who cares.”

  Cecilia raised an eyebrow. “Did you two fall out?”

  “She says she’s in love with Paul Hood, but if it doesn’t work out, she’ll come back to me.”

  Mr. Best began to chuckle sarcastically. “That girl needs a switch taken to her selfish little behind.”

  Mrs. Best could only gape at what she’d heard. When she finally found her voice, she stood and said angrily, “William, get the wagon. We’re going over there, and when I get my hands—”

  Mr. Best laughed in earnest. “Sit down, lovey. We’re not going anywhere. I don’t have any bail money if you kill her. Daniel took care of things, I’m sure.”

  His mother asked sharply, “Did you?”

  Daniel shrugged. “I suppose.”

  Cecilia’s heart ached seeing the angry hurt in her son’s eyes. She wanted to roast Francine. “Sweetheart, if you need to talk—”

  “I’m all right, Mama. I’ll see you later.”

  He went into the house.

  Having Jojo as a friend meant that for the next week Belle heard all the rumors surrounding the breakup of Daniel and Francine. Some claimed Francine had given Daniel the mitten, while others swore it had been the other way around. Jojo and Trudy had ears like bloodhounds, it seemed, because every day when Jojo returned from school, she clued Belle in on the latest whispers. In reality, Belle didn’t care; all she had to do was look at Daniel’s tight face to know that regardless of who initiated the dissolution, Daniel didn’t seem happy to be in the center of it all. Belle put up with Jojo’s news though, solely because Jojo was twelve, and at twelve the only excitement she had in her life was gossip, going to church and school.

  But by the fourth day, Belle had had enough. “Jojo, that’s it. No more rumors.”

  “But, Belle, what if it’s true?” Jojo replied with scandalous glee.

  Belle looked up from her reading primer and gave Jo a steely look. “Francine is not carrying Mr. Hood’s love child. She may be fast, but she’s not stupid.”

  “But, Belle, Trudy heard—”

  Belle closed her book and declared calmly, “Josephine Best, I don’t care if she heard it from a talking frog. I don’t want to know any more.”

  Jo looked crushed. Belle felt a pang in response, but all this gossip and these rumors had to stop. “Jo, think of how Daniel feels to have his name swirling around in this mess. You of all people know how hard this has been on him.”

  Jo admitted grudgingly, “I do.”

  “Then help him out, please. No more carrying tales.”

  “All right, but—Francine is breedi
ng. Just wait. You’ll see.”

  After Jojo’s departure, an amused Belle shook her head. Daniel was right. His sister was a pest.

  In the week that followed, Daniel moved through the house like a ghost. Belle saw him at meals and occasionally during the day, but he never had much to say. He spent most of his time working in the barn with his father, and the rest at the home of the Morgan brothers.

  On this particular morning, Belle and Mrs. Best were sorting through some donated clothes collected by the women of Mrs. Best’s female antislavery circle. According to her, the group had been in existence since the thirties, ministering to the sick and shut in, collecting clothes for runaways and even managing stations on the Road. The clothes they were looking over now were headed across the Detroit River to some fugitive-aid organizations in Windsor and Amherstburg, Ontario.

  As they worked they chatted, and Belle asked, “Do you think Daniel’s ever going to smile again?”

  Cecilia shrugged. “All I know is, if his jaw gets any tighter it’s going to shatter.”

  Belle agreed as she searched for holes in the pair of trousers in her hands. “Well, I hope he comes back to himself soon. Haven’t whipped him at checkers in quite some time.”

  Mrs. Best grinned.

  Meanwhile, out in the barn, Daniel put down his plane and said to his father, “Can I talk to you about something?”

  Mr. Best glanced up from the table he was working on. “Sure, son. What about?”

  “Women.”

  “Ah,” Mr. Best replied sagely, “how about we take a short break?”

  Daniel nodded. So they went out to the log behind the barn and took a seat.

  Mr. Best asked, “So what do you want to know?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Belle.”

  Mr. Best stared. “I thought this was going to be about Francine.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Nope. Belle. Frankly, I’m glad Francine gave me an out. Now I can court Belle.”

  His father said, “Let me get this straight. All this moping you’ve been doing—”

  “I’m not moping, Pa. I’m angry—at Francine, Hood, but mostly at myself for letting Francine turn me into the county laughingstock. I thought I was in love with her because she’d always been there, but I had nothing to compare true, deep-down feelings with. Now I do.”

  His father studied him silently, then asked, “And your plans with Belle are what?”

  “I’d like to court her, Papa.”

  “No.”

  Daniel’s eyes went wide. “No?!”

  “No,” his father repeated quietly. “You spent the last three years claiming to be so deeply in love with Francine, you wanted to marry her.”

  “But—”

  His father cut him off. “And now that you’re no longer in love with her, you claim to be in love with Belle.”

  “Why, yes, and—”

  “What if, say in six weeks or six days, you decide you no longer love Belle? It would be pretty awkward around here with the two of you living under the same roof, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, Papa, but—”

  “Do you have any idea what your mother would do to you if you broke Belle’s heart?”

  “I’ve a pretty good idea, yes, but—”

  “You may be her firstborn, but she’d grill you like a piece of pork.”

  Daniel didn’t know whether to be offended or to grin.

  “Son, what I’m saying is, it’s too soon. Give yourself some time before you go charging into something new. Lord knows, I’ve been hoping you’d send that Francine packing for years, and I’d love to have Belle as my daughter-in-law, nearly as much as your mother would, but I want it to be lasting. I don’t want either of you hurt. Do you understand?”

  Daniel didn’t necessarily agree, but he did understand. “May I at least take her places—rallies, the theater—”

  “If you take your sister along.”

  Daniel looked stunned. “Papa?!”

  “Those are the conditions. Now, say by December, if your feelings are still strong, we can talk about a formal courtship. Until then, Belle will be allowed to see other young men, if she desires.”

  Daniel’s eyes widened.

  His father ignored it. “She’s been here only three months, Daniel. She needs time to finish mastering her studies and to figure out who she’s going to be. If you do love her, you’ll give her the space she needs to grow.”

  This conversation had not gone in the direction Daniel had envisioned, but he knew his father was right. “Okay, Papa, but if she picks one of the Morgans over me, I’m going to be real mad.”

  “Belle’s smarter than that, and you know it.”

  Daniel smiled. He hoped to be as wise as his father when he had children of his own. “Thanks, Papa.”

  “Anytime, son,” his father replied affectionately. “Anytime. Now, let’s get back to work.”

  At dinner that evening, Daniel looked across the table at his sister, and said, “I’ll do your dishes tonight, Jo.”

  Jojo looked very skeptical. “Why?”

  “Because you’re my sister, and I love you,” he gritted out.

  “Oh, you just want to be in the kitchen with Belle,” Jojo stated with a twinkle in her brown eyes.

  “Pest,” he shot back.

  Belle pretended to be concentrating on her collards. When she hazarded a look at Mrs. Best, she was smiling.

  Mrs. Best then said to her son, “Taking Jo’s chores tonight will be perfect, Daniel. She has a book she has to study tonight for a test tomorrow. Don’t you, Josephine?”

  Jo fiddled with the mashed potatoes on her plate. “Yes, but the book is dumb. I don’t know why we have to read it. The boys don’t.”

  “It’s a book on female decorum,” her mother pointed out.

  “But it’s written by a man, for heaven’s sake.”

  Her mother cast her a warning look.

  “I’m sorry, Mama, but I still don’t see why I need it. You’ve already taught me all those things.”

  Her father asked, “What’s the book called, Jo?”

  Jojo recited in a singsong voice, “How to Be a Lady—A Book for Girls Containing Useful Hints on the Formation of Character. It’s by a man named Harvey Newcomb.”

  Belle chuckled softly and shook her head. “I’d like to read it, Jo, once you’re done.”

  “You’re welcome to it. Tomorrow we’re having a test on the chapter titles.”

  Daniel asked curiously, “Not the contents?”

  “No, that will be next week, maybe, Mr. Hood said. I don’t think he’s a very good teacher.”

  Mr. Best asked, “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t teach us anything. We just do a lot of reading, so he can—”

  She hazarded a glance Daniel’s way but didn’t say more.

  Mrs. Best looked down the table at her daughter. “So he can what?”

  Jojo shook her head. “Never mind. Nothing.”

  Her mother pressed her. “Jo, if there’s something not right with his teaching, the parents need to know. Now, tell me, darling.”

  Jojo looked over at her brother, and then back to her mother before saying, “We don’t see very much of him.”

  Mr. Best looked as confused as everyone else at the table. “What does that mean?” he asked.

  It was obvious Jojo didn’t want to confess, but she had no choice. “Ever since we moved school into the church basement, he gives us a lesson to read when we arrive, and then we don’t see him again until lunch. Then, after lunch, he gives us another reading assignment, and we don’t see him again until it’s time to go home.”

  Mrs. Best practically shouted, “What?”

  Jojo’s lips were tight.

  Mr. Best demanded, “Is it liquor? Does he come back smelling like spirits?”

  Jojo shook her head. “No, he comes back smelling like Francine.”

  Belle choked on the drink of water she’d just taken. Daniel handed he
r a napkin.

  Mrs. Best then asked, “Is this every day?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Best exchanged a look, then he pushed back from the table, saying, “Lovey, we’re paying too much money for shenanigans. Bad enough he’s fooling around with Francine. Now this? I’m going over to talk to Walt.”

  Walt Fleming was the head of the local school committee and Francine’s father.

  Mrs. Best didn’t try to dissuade him from his mission. “I agree. If Hood is foolish enough to want Francine, fine, but we’re paying him to teach.”

  “Let’s hope Walt views it that way.”

  A very disgruntled Mr. Best left the house.

  After his departure, Belle and the other family members finished dinner, then cleared the table. Mrs. Best went up to Jojo’s room to help her with the memorizing for the upcoming test, while Belle and Daniel headed for the kitchen.

  Belle washed. Daniel dried. As they moved about the small kitchen, both tried to ignore their awareness of each other. Daniel put the now-dried plates into the sideboard, then asked, “Are we done?”

  Belle looked around the tidy kitchen, and said proudly, “Yes, we are.”

  “Then will you come sit on the steps with me? Something I want to talk to you about.”

  Belle took off her apron and hung it on the peg by the stove. “Sure, what is it?”

  “Us.”

  Belle went still. She searched his eyes, then forced herself to say calmly, “All right, Daniel.”

  Outside, the sun was going down on what had been a very windy July day. Belle took a seat on the stone step, and he sat down at her side. Belle was admittedly nervous.

  Daniel didn’t beat around the bush. “I asked my father if I could court you.”

  Belle started shaking. “I didn’t know you were going to do that. What did he say?”

  “No.”

  Belle stared. “No?”

  “No.”

  “Did he have a reason?”

  “Yes, he wants you to finish adjusting to being here, and for me to wait until I’m sure how I really feel about you.”

  “How do you think you feel?”

  “You know how I feel, Belle,” he told her quietly. “If you were older, I think I’d just marry you.”