Storm Clouds Rolling In

by Ginny Dye

  Carrie made no attempt to acknowledge his greeting. “I believe I told you never to set foot on Cromwell Plantation again, Mr. Adams.” Her voice was cold.

  Adams narrowed his eyes in anger. “I have come to see your father, Miss Cromwell.”

  “My father is not here.”

  “Did he leave recently?” Adams asked.

  Carrie wanted to smile at the pleading whine creeping into his voice. “I don’t believe my father’s activities are of any interest to you, Mr. Adams.” Then her voice grew colder. “I don’t believe any activities on Cromwell Plantation should be of interest to you. It would be best if you left.”

  Adams stared down the road.

  Carrie read his thoughts. Shifting the gun so that the barrel was pointed in his direction, she smiled pleasantly. “I’m not going to say it again, Mr. Adams. I want you off Cromwell Plantation. And I want you to leave by the quickest route - the way you came.” Her heart pounded as she wondered whether she would actually shoot the despicable man if he tried to catch her father.

  Adams turned to glare up at her. “One of these days, Miss Carrie Cromwell, you’re not going to be standing behind the barrel of a gun. You’d best be watching yourself.”

  “And you’d best be watching yourself!” Moses and Sam spoke in unison as they stepped out onto the porch behind Carrie. “You got nothing but enemies around here, Adams,” Moses said in a deep, angry voice. “Miss Carrie has plenty of friends.”

  Adams stared up at the massive black man glaring down at him, cursed loudly, spun, and took off at a gallop.

  Carrie stared after him with a deep frown, then turned and put a hand on Moses’ arm. “Thank you. But I’m afraid you may have made even more trouble for yourself.”

  “Adams ain’t nothing but trouble, Miss Carrie. It’s bound to come sooner or later. I reckon I’m just going to have to deal with it when it comes.”

  Carrie nodded and sighed. “I suppose you’re right, Moses.” Then she smiled. “I like to pretend trouble away sometimes, but I suppose it’s better to accept the truth of a situation. At least that way, you know what you’re up against and can prepare for it.”

  She looked up just in time to catch the quick look Sam shot at Moses. “What is it, Sam?”

  Sam started, averted his eyes and shook his head. “It ain’t nothin’, Miss Carrie.”

  Normally Carrie would have let it go, but something caused her to press the issue. She walked over and looked up at her old friend. “I’ve known you all my life, Sam. What is going on?” Still, he just shook his head and kept his eyes down. Frustrated, Carrie looked at Moses and Rose. “What is going on around here?” she demanded.

  Rose frowned deeply and looked away. Moses did the same. Suddenly, Carrie was frightened. What were they hiding from her? “Rose?”

  Rose finally sighed and looked up. “We didn’t want to say anything to you, Miss Carrie.”

  “About what?” Carrie was confused.

  “About your Robert,” Sam said in a low voice.

  “About Robert?” Carrie echoed. Now she was completely confused. “I think we all need to go inside.” As soon as they entered the warmth of the house, she turned to them. “I want to know what in the world is going on.”

  Sam looked at Rose in mute appeal. She studied Carrie closely, then slowly nodded. “Carrie just said it’s better to accept the truth of a situation.”

  Carrie waited quietly, her body tense.

  Sam looked down but spoke in a steady voice. “We knows how you feel ‘bout beating slaves, Miss Carrie. I done got some news a few weeks back about your Robert.”

  Carrie listened closely, a sick dread rising in her throat.

  Sam cleared his throat and continued. “Back in the fall, your Robert Borden had some of his slaves run off. He done went after them, but they were long gone. He decided he was gonna teach his other slaves to not even think ‘bout doin’ the same thing. So’s he went down to the Quarters....” his voice choked and he fell silent.

  “Tell me what happened, Sam.” Carrie didn’t even recognize her own controlled voice.

  “He took a whip with him, Miss Carrie. He took three of the slaves - one man, one woman and a child. He... He...” Sam shook his head as tears welled in his eyes. “The child didn’t make it. The other two were still in bed the last I knew.”

  Carrie gasped as huge tears welled in her eyes. The picture of the slaves flashed in her mind, overlaid with the horror that it was the man she loved who had done such a thing. All she could do was shake her head and groan softly.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Carrie.”

  Carrie dimly realized Rose was speaking to her, but she couldn’t reach through the fog that was settling on her heart. With a cry, she jerked away and ran for the stairs.

  Moses voice followed her. “You did the right thing, Sam. Robert Borden has to let go of the hate in his heart if he is going to love Miss Carrie the way she needs to be loved. She had to know the truth.”

  Carrie sobbed until her pillow was soaked. Then she pulled herself up and walked over to stare out the window into the cloudless sky. How could she have fallen in love with a man who could do what Robert Borden had done? She groaned and bit her lip, tears falling freely again. Why did love have to hurt so much? What was she going to do?

  There were no answers - only more questions - as she finally drifted off into a troubled sleep.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Moses mumbled and rolled over, groping for his wife’s warmth. Rose leaned over smiling and said softly, “I’ll be back soon.”

  Moses opened his eyes sleepily and took in her dressed condition. He sat up quickly. “What time is it?” The cabin was still swathed in dark shadows. “Where are you going?” His voice quickened with concern. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine,” she assured him. “I just need some time to think before a new year starts.” Rose had been hoping Moses wouldn’t wake up until she had returned because she didn’t know how to explain her sudden deep need to be alone.

  Moses looked at her closely and then nodded his head. “You’re going looking for answers.” He smiled. “I hope you find them.” He laid back down under the warm covers. “I’m happy right here. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Rose smiled, leaned down to kiss him one more time, and then slipped out into the frigid morning. The sun was still hiding far beneath the horizon but its glow was already kissing the morning sky. She pulled her cloak tightly around her shoulders and hurried down the road leading to the river. When she found the small path to the water’s edge, she pulled up her dress and eased down it carefully, aware a misstep in the dark could send her tumbling into the icy waters. Below her was the large granite boulder she was seeking. She jumped lightly and breathed a sigh of relief when the sturdy rock embraced her. Eddies of swirling water surrounded her but she was secure. She drew her knees to her chest and fixed her eyes on the eastern sky.

  January 1, 1861 marched onto the world scene with a glory that took her breath away. Great banks of fleecy, cumulous clouds absorbed the morning rays of the sun and exploded into a glorious pageantry of color and light. Radiant shafts pierced the clouds and sent probing fingers of light shooting into the early morning indigo sky. The wind, blowing briskly just moments before, completely abated, leaving the James a glassy mirror to reflect the panorama unfolding above.

  Rose caught her breath at the sheer beauty embracing her. “Thank you,” she whispered softly. Leaning back, she allowed the glory of the morning to penetrate her heart and mind as she watched God usher in a new year.

  Rose had come looking for answers. Or maybe just to ask questions. Her life was so full - so rich. Why wasn’t she satisfied? Why did her dreams and longings still eat at her, demanding attention? She was so happy with Moses. She and her daddy had spent long hours together catching up on the years that had been stolen from them. Watching her Mama’s joy gave her a deep contentment of her own. Still, her heart was restless.

 
“Am I free to go now, God?” she whispered. “Can Moses and I leave Cromwell to start a life of our own?” Moses supported her dream to go to school and become a teacher. He had listened to her talk for hours about teaching Negro children to become all they could be - showing them how to break the bonds of tyranny that had held not only their bodies, but their hearts and minds as well. He wanted her to be a teacher and was willing to do whatever it took for her to become one.

  Was it indeed time to go? Her Mama wouldn’t be alone any more. Her Daddy was here to stay. The thought of leaving her Mama made her heart ache, but the frustration of merely longing for her dreams was eating at her, too. Then she frowned, thinking of all the children she would leave behind her here. Carrie had allowed her to turn one of the barns into a school. For three hours every day she was teaching the Cromwell children to read and write. Daily, she watched them blossom under the wonder of learning. Could she leave them behind? Wasn’t she already a teacher? Why was there such a burning to go north and go to school?

  Rose already knew the answer. She, too, wanted to become all she could be. There was so much she wanted to learn. So much she wanted to know about things that were nothing more than mysteries to her now. Her heart was hungry for knowledge. She stared into the morning sky and allowed her frustrations to explode from her in a mighty sigh as the brilliance of the sun drove back the colors and painted the sky a vivid blue. “Aren’t I ever going to do anything but ask questions, God? Will I ever get answers?”

  Slowly, words her Mama had said many times, floated gently into her mind. “Askin’ questions keeps you comin’ to God, Rose girl. You can rest sure he done got all the answers. You can also rest sure he ain’t gonna tell you till you need to know. He don’t mind the askin’ though. As long as we’re askin’ that means there be somethin’ in us that still believes he gonna tell us one day. And he will, Rose girl! When the time be right, he gonna answer all dem questions.” Then Sarah had paused and looked deep into her little girl’s eyes. “If we done knew all the answers, there wouldn’t be no need to trust God. Wouldn’t be no need to get to know him. And that, Rose girl would be the tragedy. Knowin’ all the answers without knowing God... why knowin’ em that way wouldn’t mean nothin’!”

  Rose hadn’t understood her mama back then. Now she did. She lowered her eyes to stare into the glassy water spread before her and bowed her head. “I trust you, God. You’ve brought me this far. Just please keep me going in the direction you want me to go - I don’t want to choose my own way and end up somewhere I’m not supposed to be.” She closed her eyes and lay back, listening to the water lapping against her rock.

  Slowly, the lapping of the water faded away and a picture rose in her mind, a picture so clear it was as if she could reach out and touch it. She was walking briskly down a city street, her arms full of papers and books. People, both black and white, smiled and nodded to her as she hurried along. Soon she came to a simple white building, with a small covered porch for its entrance. She stepped inside and was immediately welcomed by a room full of young, shiny, black faces. They reached into their desks as soon as they saw her, and pulled out stacks of paper and books - plenty enough for everyone. Then they turned to face her as she moved to the front of the room and took her place behind a massive, oak desk. “Good morning, Miss Rose,” they said in unison. “Good morning, class,” she responded cheerfully.

  A fish slapping back against the water after it jumped up for its breakfast broke her from the vision, but not before a voice sounded clearly in her mind.

  One year, Rose. You will be free... In one year…

  Rose was breathing hard as she bolted straight up and stared out at the water. Had she been dreaming? She shook her head, remembering every detail of what she had seen. The voice still rang in her head – every vibration whispering it was true. But it was the peace more than anything that told her it was more than her imagination. The peace stole into her heart and stilled the restlessness. The peace consumed the questions and left her only with a determination to make the most of the next year.

  “One year,” she whispered in awe. “One year.” Suddenly, she had to be with Moses. She had to tell him what she had seen - what she had heard. She jumped lightly from her rock, climbed the bank, and walked rapidly down the road leading back to the Quarters.

  Sarah rolled over and looked at John. Then she gazed toward the bed of ashes banking the fire. Normally John would already have the fire roaring by this time of the morning. Sarah smiled and rolled out from under her blankets. After doing it herself for so many years, it certainly hadn’t taken her long to become spoiled. No matter, when John woke up this morning it was going to be to a warm cabin. Sarah stirred the ashes until live coals lit the tinder she held out to them. In only a few minutes she had hungry flames licking at the armloads of wood she had dumped into the fireplace. Humming softly, she turned to stir up some cornbread for breakfast.

  She smiled at John’s sleeping form, but she suddenly felt a vague uneasiness. She stood quietly and watched him. What was wrong? Suddenly she knew - a deep knowing that caused her hands to tremble and her heart to pound. Frightened, she just stood there, staring at him - willing him to wake up.

  Rose was striding up the path when she saw the smoke rising from her mama and daddy’s cabin. She was in a hurry to get home to Moses, but something made her break stride and turn toward the tiny cabin. When a knock on the door produced nothing, she frowned slightly and turned away. A slight sound caused her to turn back and stare at the door.

  “Rose girl?”

  The voice was so low Rose wasn’t sure if she heard it or just imagined it. Whatever, it was enough to make her push the cabin door open. She stepped inside, then stopped in confusion. Her mama stood still as a statue beside the table, her hands still covered with cornmeal, staring toward the bed where her husband lay. Rose turned to look at her daddy. He was still sleeping peacefully, just his face showing above the blankets. “Mama? What’s wrong, Mama?”

  Sarah still stared at the bed. Slowly, she began shaking her head as if trying to force herself to accept what she could not bear to. “John.” Her voice was just a whisper, but somehow that single word spoke a lifetime of loving.

  “Daddy?” Rose had a sudden urge to run from the cabin. Instead, she stepped over and forced herself to put her hand out and touch her daddy. “Daddy!” she cried, and then collapsed beside the bed with gigantic sobs.

  Sarah moved over to wrap her arms around her daughter’s shaking shoulders and gently stroked her head. Moses found them that way when he entered the cabin. Sarah looked up at him. “Rose be needin’ you now, Moses.” She stepped back and allowed Moses to take Rose into his arms.

  “How long?” he asked simply.

  Sarah shook her head. “The Lord done took him sometime in the night. When I woke up he was already gone.”

  Rose pulled back from Moses’ embrace. “But why?” she cried. “Why would God take him? We just got him back! We just got him back...” Her voice trailed off in a confused whimper.

  “Yes,” Sarah said. “We got him back! That’s the important thin’. All those years, I just prayed God would let me see him again. I never did say for how long,” she mused. “This last few weeks been like heaven to me. We done did a lot of loving these last few weeks.”

  Rose stared at her. “But aren’t you angry, Mama?”

  Sarah smiled. “Angry? I’ll miss my John, sure ‘nuff, but it ain’t gonna be eighteen years before I see him again. I reckon it won’t be long now ‘fore there won’t be nothin’ to keep us apart.” She walked over and laid her hand on Rose’s head. “God gave us a special gift, Rose. We could have lived our whole life and never seen him again. We done got a real special gift.”

  Rose tried to hear her Mama. She tried to find solace in the fact that her Daddy had been restored to her for three glorious weeks. She closed her eyes and remembered the long walks they had taken, the long talks they had shared. Tears continued to roll down her fac
e but slowly her mama’s peace filtered into her own heart.

  Roses’ Daddy had been laid to rest in a shallow grave carved out of the frozen ground. It was four days later before Rose thought to tell Moses about her dream, or vision, or whatever it was, down on the rocks.

  Cradled in Moses’ arms, Rose stared into the flickering flames of the fire. “One year, Moses. The voice said we would be free in a year.” Once again she felt the awe she had experienced that morning on the rock. Suddenly, she realized Moses was frowning. “What’s wrong, Moses?”

  He spoke reluctantly, “What about your mama?”

  “Mama!” Rose gasped as the meaning of Moses’ question hit her heart. She had sworn never to leave her mama. With her Daddy gone, she was once again all her mama had. She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, Moses. I don’t know… I’m just telling you what I heard.”

  Neither one spoke for a long time as they stared into the flames and pondered what the coming year would bring.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The blush of spring was kissing Virginia as the month of March claimed the wintry landscape. Red maple buds bulged with the promise of life. Low hanging willows proudly sported their fresh tendrils of green. Carrie was glad for the robes tucked around her legs. The sun was warm, but the air was still nippy as Charles urged the horses down the road at a rapid trot. She leaned back against the carriage seat and pulled out the two letters that had prompted her sudden trip to Richmond. The first was from her father.

  Dear Carrie,

  I find I have not much time to write. The political affairs of our country are consuming all my time and energy. Having just returned from Washington, there is too much happening at present for me to make a trip to Cromwell. I miss you, daughter. It would give me great pleasure if you would come to visit your devoted father. I’m sure it would also do you good to get away from the plantation for a while. I will look forward with great anticipation to a positive response.