The Governor’s Sons

by McKenzie, Maria

  “No,” Kitty’s voice was almost inaudible. “I’m pregnant.”

  “What?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh—my—gosh, Catherine! What were you thinking? Were you out of your mind?”

  “Betty Jean—we love each other—things happened. I went to Dr. Cutter’s office today—but I couldn’t go through with it—getting rid of it.”

  “Is that what Ash wanted you to do?”

  “No. He wanted me to keep it—he begged me to. I’m the one who wanted to have an abortion. But once I got there, I just couldn’t.”

  Betty Jean exhaled deeply. “Oh, Catherine, what in the world have you gotten yourself into?”

  “Miss Joan knows people up in 86 who help girls like me. And they can arrange an adoption.”

  “Adoption? But what if your baby ends up with a set of really awful parents? Or what if they don’t love an adopted baby as much as they’d love their own?” Betty Jean paused for a moment. “Catherine—maybe—maybe you won’t have to think about adoption.”

  “Why?”

  “Well—Thomas and I—we want to get married.”

  “Oh, Betty Jean!” Kitty hugged her sister. “I’m so happy for you!”

  “Thanks, but listen.” She gently pushed Kitty away so she could look at her. “We’ve talked about a May wedding—a week after I graduate. We both want children. So, it’s possible that—we could raise your baby, if you’ll let us.”

  “But—Betty Jean—I can’t ask you to do that.” Besides, Kitty thought, how good a mother could she be--half blind as she is? And it’s my baby. I’d be a better mother to my own child! Kitty told herself. Realistically, however, her choices were limited. Did she really want strangers to raise her child, instead of her own sister? She’d only considered adoption because she didn’t want the stigma of being unmarried with a baby.

  “I want to,” Betty Jean said. “And besides, this way you can visit him—or her—whenever you want, and you’ll know he’s safe and loved. I’ll raise him like my very own. But I’ll—I’ll have to—talk to Thomas about it. I think he’d be willing to do it—for me—if nothing else.”

  Kitty hesitated for a few moments. “Alright, but whatever you do—don’t tell him the truth about the baby. I’ll go away and have it—but when it turns up—just say it belongs to a relative or something.”

  “Catherine, I can’t start my marriage with a lie.”

  “The only reason I don’t want you to tell Thomas is because of Russell.”

  “Russell? But you don’t even care about him anymore--you broke up with him. Why are you so concerned about what he thinks?”

  “He put me on a pedestal. His whole family liked me. I don’t want any of them thinking--bad things about me.”

  “I’ll ask him not to tell Russell. That’s all I can do.”

  Kitty sighed. “Okay. But--Betty Jean--do you really think Thomas will want to raise Ash’s child?”

  “A child’s not responsible for its parents. And look, I know you think Thomas is a little abrasive, and he doesn’t think too highly of any white man, but he does love kids. He won’t blame the baby for Ash being his father. Now—we have to tell Mama and Daddy.”

  Kitty couldn’t speak for a moment. “I can’t,” she said in a hoarse whisper, “at least not yet, anyway. I want to talk to Ash and Miss Joan about that place in 86. I think Mama would be too ashamed to send me off to any of our own relatives.”

  ****

  Ash hadn’t slept well; he’d tossed restlessly throughout most of the night. Although exhausted, he forced himself from bed. He needed to run. After stretching, he started off with a slow jog. Gradually, he increased his speed as the fresh air rejuvenated him. Frustrated and angry, he decided to run twenty minutes longer than usual.

  He didn’t want to see Kitty. But by the time he’d completed his run and began jogging to the house, he saw her off in the distance, along with Betty Jean. Both wore their pale blue uniforms and white shoes as they walked toward the mansion in his direction.

  They held hands; and upon seeing him, Kitty stopped. But Betty Jean pulled her along and forced her to keep walking. Kitty needed her sister’s support, Ash observed, especially after what she’d done to him. And there was no swing to her step. Kitty’s strides seemed slower and more subdued this morning. Thinking about the alluring walk that had once driven him mad, now made him want to throttle her. His emotions churned wildly and irrationally as he thought that she’d seduced him—only to kill his child.

  Ash saw Betty Jean whisper something to Kitty, before she dropped her hand and hurried to the back of the house.

  Ash stopped jogging and began to walk. It was a good thing Betty Jean left Kitty alone to confront him, Ash thought. He didn’t want any witnesses present. He’d never hurt Kitty, but considering his state of mind, he wasn’t sure what he’d say or do once he stood face to face with her.

  Kitty waited as he stalked toward her. Ash ripped off his tee shirt, then used it to wipe the sweat from his face and neck. Breathing heavily he said, “So, are you happy now?” Bitterness oozed from his voice like puss from an open wound.

  At first Kitty said nothing. Then, while looking deeply into his eyes, she said, “I couldn’t.”

  Ash felt his face soften. His anger diminished completely and he smiled. “Kitty—deep down inside I wanted to believe—you couldn’t go through with it. Yesterday--I tried so hard for you to see things my way—but I didn’t think you’d change your mind.”

  Kitty was silent for a moment. “I had to make up my own mind—and really think about what I was doing,” she said softly.

  His eyes welled a little. Ash almost reached to hug her, but then he restrained himself from doing that in public.

  “I still haven’t told my parents. For one thing, I want to learn more about what’s in 86. But I don’t think I’ll have to deal with the adoption agency. Betty Jean’s getting married right after she graduates, and she’s willing to raise the baby--if Thomas agrees to that.”

  “Kitty,” Ash said, “this is so much better than what you wanted to do—isn’t it?” She nodded. “And I’ll provide all the monetary support that’s needed. I’ll pay for college—law school—everything!”

  “Law school? You’re thinking ahead, aren’t you?”

  “Or medical school! Anything he wants!”

  “He? What if it’s a girl?”

  “Anything she wants! The sky’s the limit!”

  Kitty exhaled. “I’m dreading telling your mama.”

  “I know, but we need to talk to her right after breakfast--the sooner, the better,” Ash said in a take-charge manner.

  “I know.” Kitty began to shake at the thought of facing Miss Joan, and then confronting her own parents. “Oh, Ash--I’d—I’d rather die that tell my mama and daddy, but—but I guess I’ll have to do that today, after I go home.” The thought of telling them almost made her wish she’d gone through with the abortion.

  ****

  Kitty held Ash’s hand as he led her to what felt like the lion’s den. After the morning meal, Miss Joan sat in her small parlor off the living room paying bills. Ash knocked lightly on the slightly parted pocket door.

  Miss Joan looked up from her Queen Ann desk. “Come in, Ash.” She didn’t realize Kitty was with him until he slid the door open further. “And Catherine.” She smiled. “Come in, dear.” Ash dropped her hand before his mother saw him holding it.

  “Mother, we need to talk to you about something.”

  “Sit down.” She motioned them to a pink satin sofa across from her. “Is there—something wrong—in the kitchen?”

  “No,” Ash said. “We—uh—know someone—who’ll need to go to Miss Esther’s place. I told Kitty you could make the arrangements.”

  Puzzled, Miss Joan began fanning herself as she looked at Kitty. The scent of lavender filled the room. “A—a friend of yours, Catherine?”

  Kitty trembled and couldn’t speak.

 
“Mother,” Ash said, “Kitty’s pregnant.”

  Miss Joan said nothing at first; she only looked at Kitty. Disappointment was spelled clearly across her face. Kitty’s gaze fell to the floor. “Pregnant? Why--Catherine—how could you get yourself in such trouble? What—what were you thinking? And who’s the father? Does he plan to marry you? I know it couldn’t possibly be Russell Graham. He seems much too nice a boy to behave in that way.”

  Kitty still couldn’t speak.

  “I’m the father,” Ash said. “The baby’s mine.”

  Kitty glanced up briefly only to see Miss Joan turn pale. As the blood drained from her face a hundred questions flickered across it. What, when, where, how, why? Her voice was stiff and tight as she spoke. “Well, then—marriage is out of the question.” But there were no words of condemnation for Ash. Kitty’s eyes again hit the floor.

  “Betty Jean’s getting married soon. She’s willing to raise it,” Ash said.

  “Of course,” Miss Joan said softly. “Catherine, we’ll do our part to provide for the child. I’m sure I can make arrangements with Esther. We’ll provide for your stay there as well. I’ll need to speak with your parents, and make sure they agree to you living there for the duration of your—condition. Do they know you’re—expecting yet?” Kitty raised her head to meet Miss Joan’s frigid eyes, but she could only shake her head. “You tell them today.” Miss Joan’s tone was steel-like. “I’ll talk with them tomorrow.” Kitty nodded. “And I believe, under the circumstances, your employment here is terminated.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kitty said hoarsely.

  “Now,” as Miss Joan stood, Kitty and Ash stood with her, “if you’ll excuse me, I--I think I need to retire to my bedroom for a while.”

  After Miss Joan swept from the room, Kitty crumpled back to the sofa. Ash sat next to her and put his arm around her as she hung her head and began to cry. “Kitty, it’ll be alright,” he said softly.

  Through her tears she could only say, “Now your mama thinks I’m nothing but a tramp.”

  ****

  That evening, Kitty’s heart beat rapidly as she and Betty Jean sat on her twin bed.

  “Catherine, we can’t put it off any longer.” Betty Jean pressured her. “We have to tell Mama and Daddy. It’s getting late. You told Mama you were sick again and left work early, what are you gonna tell her in the morning when you don’t go in at all, or when Miss Joan shows up on the doorstep?”

  “I just don’t know how to start,” Kitty cried.

  “With the truth—that’s the easiest way. I’ll hold your hand the whole time. Will that make you feel better?”

  “Yes.” Kitty grabbed her sister’s hand firmly.

  The two girls walked to the living room where their parents sat listening to “Amos and Andy” on the radio. Sophie mended clothes while Ward read the weekly Joy Hope Ledger.

  “Mama, Daddy,” Betty Jean said, “we need to talk to you. It’s important, so can we turn off the radio?”

  “Of course.” Sophie put down her sewing, then reached for the radio knob.

  Ward folded his newspaper. “What’s goin’ on that’s so important we gotta turn off ‘Amos and Andy’?”

  The girls sat on the floral print sofa across from their parents’ large gray round back chairs.

  Their mother, seeing Kitty’s tears and Betty Jean’s grim expression became alarmed, “What’s the matter? What’s happened?” Ward reached for his wife’s hand and held it tightly.

  Betty Jean glanced at Kitty. “Can you tell them, or do you want me to?”

  Kitty looked down as more tears filled her eyes. “You—you do it,” she nearly choked on her words, “I can’t.”

  “Mama, Daddy,” Betty Jean took a deep breath, “Catherine’s pregnant.”

  Too stunned to speak, Ward said nothing, but Sophie gasped. “Pregnant! Oh, Catherine, I thought I raised you better than to act like common trash! Have you thought about the shame and embarrassment this will bring on all of us?” She clutched her heart for a moment. “Who’s the father?” she asked angrily. “I know it’s not Russell. A nice boy like that—”

  “Ash Kroth is the father,” Betty Jean interrupted.

  “Damn it!” Ward exclaimed as he dropped Sophie’s hand. For the large man that he was, he shot from his chair surprisingly fast. “I knew we shouldn’t have let our daughters work in no white man’s kitchen! God help me, I’ll find a way to make that white boy pay for what he did!”

  “Oh, baby.” Sophie’s tone changed from condemnation to compassion tinged with horror. “He raped you,” she said softly.

  “Catherine, when did that cracker force himself on you?” Ward asked.

  “He—he…” Catherine stammered.

  “He didn’t force her to do anything,” Betty Jean said.

  Everyone sat silently for a moment. “Betty Jean,” Ward said, “she—she didn’t just willingly let that boy touch her! That damn cracker needs to be taught a lesson!” He trudged from the room. Moments later he emerged carrying a rifle.

  “Daddy!” Betty Jean screamed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What’s it look like I’m gonna do?”

  “Ward! Put that rifle down!” Sophie pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began mopping her forehead.

  “Daddy,” Kitty said, “he really didn’t force me!”

  “What are you saying, Catherine?” Impatience rose in Sophie’s voice. “You let that boy touch you?”

  “The only way she’d let him lay a hand on her was if he tricked her with a bunch of fancy words he didn’t mean!” Ward said. “Hell—I’ll show that damn cracker what I mean,” he cocked his rifle, “and I won’t use no damn words!”

  “Daddy, you can’t go hurt him and get yourself killed!” Kitty cried. “We love each other!” After Kitty said this, Sophie fainted.

  Chapter 11

  The Town of Eighty-Six

  Spring, 1937

  Dear Betty Jean,

  I would kill to go to the movies! I would kill to go shopping. I would kill to go out for a hamburger! I know I sound pathetic, but I miss having fun. I wish I could go into town where all the excitement is, but of course, ever since I started showing, Miss Esther’s insisted that I not be seen in public.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if some other “girls in trouble” were here with me—but I’m still the only one! Miss Seletha says that nowadays, most Negro unwed girls go to some Catholic home about 30 miles north of here. It’s free with more beds, but she says the girls are treated like prisoners. I don’t know if I’m any better off since Miss Esther acts like a jail warden! But given the choice, I guess I’d rather be here.

  Kitty stopped writing and looked up from her note paper. She inhaled, taking in the scent of mothballs that permeated the house. When she’d first come to live here, she’d called the smell the fragrance of “old lady.” But after being here seven months, Kitty had grown accustomed to it, and hardly noticed it anymore.

  She sighed. Seven—long—months. And while Kitty had lived secluded in 86, the outside world continued on without her. She and Betty Jean corresponded regularly. Betty Jean’s letters were like a lifeline.

  While sitting at the small black desk in her room, Kitty glanced out the window. Bright yellow daffodils and red tulips lined the rear perimeter of Miss Esther’s large white frame house. Putting pen to paper, Kitty began writing again.

  I’m still recovering from hearing about Aunt Izolla’s death. I still can’t believe I’ll never see her again. As upset as I’ve been, I’m just relieved that she never learned the truth about me and Ash. Thank goodness she believed that story Mama told everybody.

  To explain her absence, her mother had said that Kitty decided to live in New York with relatives for one year, and attend New York University. Kitty tapped her pen on the table for a moment. She wondered if anyone was suspicious about her whereabouts yet, then dismissed the thought and continued writing.

  That retired preacher
I told you about, Reverend Pleasant, still comes on Sundays for dinner and does a little Bible study, since I’m forbidden to go to church! But I sure do miss sitting in a real service and socializing afterwards! Reverend Pleasant is so kind, and he’s never condemned me! He always says that with God’s grace, we can get through anything, and that God gives it freely so it’s there for the taking! I’ve been praying everyday for His grace to carry me, and it’s amazing how much that lifts my spirits! When I leave here, I’ll miss Reverend Pleasant, and Miss Seletha, too. If it weren’t for them, I would’ve gone bananas by now! I certainly won’t miss being around Miss Esther!

  Today is Saturday, so you know what that means--Ash is coming! Please, please, please continue to keep his weekend visits a secret! I’m still not sure how he talked Miss Esther and Miss Seletha into letting him come every week, but he is a lawyer, well soon to be lawyer, anyway. He’s made all A’s so far in law school, but making A’s in anything is effortless for him. I pray every night that the baby will inherit his brains and not mine!

  Betty Jean, even though I love Ash—almost desperately—I’ve decided things can’t go on between us. I know I’ve said this before, and I know what you’re thinking! That as soon as I see him, I’ll forget all about any thoughts of ending things. Well, this time, I think I really mean it. “I think!” Listen to me—I sound crazy! Who knows? Maybe I am. Miss Seletha told me that when you’re pregnant, sometimes you’re liable to think kind of kooky.

  I’m looking forward to the end of this pregnancy. I’m huge. And I think I’m getting bigger every day! Sometimes I have second thoughts about giving away my baby. But I know I don’t really have another option. Giving him to you and Thomas to raise is the best thing for me and the baby. I think it’ll be a boy. That’s what Miss Seletha and Miss Esther say, since I haven’t spread much through the hips. Ash says it’s a boy, too, because he’s convinced he can only produce boys! I’m prepared for either and I’ve picked out names: Harland and Holly. Tell me what you think.

  “Catherine,” Miss Seletha called from the kitchen, “I need your help with lunch!”