Eleanor

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Eleanor Page 12

by Rachel Wesson


  “Sammy is going to be talking about that for days. He done tole us about a young white lady who helped him escape, but I guess none of us really believed him. He is so old, we thought he may be dreaming.” Eliza shook her head. “If only Clara was here to see this day. Sammy and Clara went back years together. He helped her look for me and the other families she reunited.”

  “Your mother got her freedom before you, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Did you mind that? What I mean is did you…”

  “Blame her? Not a bit. It wasn’t possible for her to take me. She had to save herself. She had to take a chance just like you did, Wilma. Ain’t nothing surer than that. Your daughter knows it just as much as I did.”

  “But what if it was much worse for her, you know, after she left? I heard how they treated runaways.”

  “Sounds like she needed to leave in a hurry anyway. Them soldiers weren’t going to thank her for stopping them from beating up her man, were they? They just as likely were going to kill her after they had some fun with her.” Eliza grabbed Wilma’s hand. “You did the best thing any mama could do. I just wish I could help you find her is all. I ain’t as good at finding people as Clara was.”

  “You have a lot of ex-slaves here. Maybe someone will know my baby,” Wilma said almost praying.

  “We got people from all over the place. There’s a lot of trouble brewing down South,” Eliza Jane said in answer. “Some say it’s worse than ever before but I can’t agree with that. I believe it’s bad but at least we got our freedom.”

  “Do you still have trouble? I sensed some nasty minds yesterday when I took a walk in Denver.”

  “Ye, we got trouble. When is our people ever not got trouble. But we do all right so long as we stay away from the danger areas. Annie tole me you went for a walk. She done tole me what you say to the store keeper. You is real brave.”

  “You know Annie? She seems like a nice girl.”

  “She is. She’s my sister’s girl. You met her sister earlier.”

  Wilma had difficulty matching the girl who had greeted them earlier with the smiling Annie.

  “Jane don’t mean to be the way she is. She was as sweet as Annie until… Well, let’s just say she met the wrong type of boys.”

  Wilma caught the look on Eliza’s face and knew straight away what had happened to Jane.

  “The poor girl. I guess the police weren’t interested either?”

  “No, they weren’t. It’s happened before and will happen again. We keep the younger girls at home as often as we can but they has to go out sometime. We try to have someone keep an eye on them. But it’s difficult. A young black man will get into much more trouble for hitting a white boy regardless of what the white boy did. Some things have never changed.”

  Wilma thanked God for living in Clover Springs. While it wasn’t perfect, at least none of the women she loved had to deal with being afraid to walk the streets. Not now that Dickinson and his kind had gone.

  “Would you like to take a walk around? Maybe we can meet someone you knew from the old days?” Eliza Jane asked, standing up.

  “Thank you but we would have to walk slow.”

  “Oh yes, your friend said you were ill.”

  “I was but I is much better now. So how many people live here?”

  Eliza brought Wilma around to many different houses introducing her to various people. She didn’t meet anyone she knew or knew of her and had to keep a lid on the disappointment filling her. Something could still happen.

  Mrs. Grey finally returned with Sammy and his son trailing behind her.

  “I hope you took it nice and slowly,” Mrs. Grey greeted Wilma.

  “I did. Stop bossing me around and get me a cup of coffee,” Wilma replied making the people around them laugh.

  “Yes, ma’am, immediately, ma’am,” Mrs. Grey teased back.

  “It is so lovely to see you two being so close despite everything,” Eliza Jane commented wiping a tear of laughter from her eye.

  “You have no idea how much I owe Wilma. She is the center of Clover Springs. Everyone loves her. She has about a hundred children who look on her as their nana.”

  Wilma blushed. “Mrs. Grey is exaggerating. I work at the town orphanage. We have rather a large number of children at the moment. It’s difficult finding homes for them.”

  “It sure is. I assume they are white? Our orphanage is filled with black children. We have lots of people who would love to take them but they simply can’t afford to. Jobs are difficult to come by but even when you have work, there is no guarantee the job will be there tomorrow.”

  “I’ve read about that in New York. A friend of ours has gone to see her old housekeeper. She said conditions are difficult for the poorer families.”

  “Everyone has their cross to bear,” Eliza said before offering them a plate of cookies and some more coffee.

  Sometime later, a child came in to announce their driver was back to collect them.

  “Have you any plans for tomorrow?” Eliza Jane asked.

  “No,” Wilma replied on behalf of both of them.”

  “It’s Sunday so we go to church. You are more than welcome to join us or you can meet us here afterwards. We tend to have a potluck lunch. There will be a lot of people who couldn’t be here today due to it being a work day. You may meet someone who you knew from the old days.”

  “Church sounds wonderful. Wilma has become a very enthusiastic church goer,” Mrs. Grey said, her teasing tone making people laugh once more.

  Wilma poked her friend in the ribs. Sure she went to church but she would never describe herself as enthusiastic about it. She went to hear Father Molloy speak. Her faith was improving but there was something still holding back her belief.

  “Come around ten and we can all walk to church together,” Eliza Jane said.

  They said their goodbyes and sat in contemplative silence on their journey back. When they returned to the hotel they asked for their meals in Mrs. Grey’s room.

  “I couldn’t face the hypocrisy in the dining room again tonight, could you?”

  Wilma shook her head, grateful her friend had suggested the idea. The last thing she needed now was for someone to treat her badly due to her color. She might just bite their head off.

  Chapter 26

  After breakfast in Wilma’s room, they headed outside and took the same carriage they had used yesterday, over to Eliza Jane’s house. They were early enough to walk to church with their new friend. Mrs. Grey had suggested it would be better to turn up with someone the rest of the congregation knew. Otherwise, they might be treated with suspicion.

  The service was very different from what Wilma was used to. The vicar sang and clapped along with the congregation as everyone sang. The music was wonderful, raising the hairs on the back of her neck with its beauty. A quick glance at Lorena’s face showed her friend was just as mesmerized.

  The sermon was longer than Father Molloy usually delivered but Wilma didn’t mind. The young preacher had a pleasant voice. She could listen to it for hours. He didn’t talk about hell or paying heavily for your sins. Instead, his sermon was all about a God who loved them. He asked for prayers for his friend Frederick Douglass. Wilma had heard of him, what black person hadn’t? But until she had started reading his autobiography, she had not realized he believed not only in equal rights for all races but also for men and women. He supported the women’s suffrage movement.

  All too soon the service was over, and the congregation spilled out of the church. People stood around chatting while kids ran around playing reminding her of Rosa, John, and all the children back in Clover Springs.

  “Mrs. Grey and Miss Wilma, this here be our preacher. He’s a relation of Frederick Douglass but don’t ask me to explain it. Once you go past first cousins, you got me confused,” Eliza Jane exclaimed her smile making her eyes dance.

  “Good morning. Thank you for a lovely sermon.”

  “That’
s high praise coming from Wilma, Reverend Douglass. She isn’t known for her love of churches.”

  Wilma could have throttled Mrs. Grey until she realized Rev. Douglass was laughing.

  “Eliza Jane told me you two were good friends. It’s nice to see. Sets a good example for the rest of us,” Reverend Douglass said. “Eliza Jane also told me why you came to Denver. I hope your quest is successful. Come with me and I will introduce you to some of our older ex-slaves. They may know something.”

  “Coming, Mrs. Grey?”

  “No thank you, Wilma. I want to spend some time with Sammy and his family. See you later.”

  Wilma left Mrs. Grey in Eliza Jane’s capable hands as she took the arm of the friendly young preacher.

  “I heard you run an orphanage in Clover Springs. Do you find it difficult to find families for the children?”

  “Sometimes. At the moment, we have a lot of children. Mrs. Grey jokes I have one hundred grandchildren. It’s not quite that many, although it seems it at times,” Wilma said before explaining about how Alicia and Father Molloy had rescued the orphans.

  “Two children, Rosa and her brother John, break my heart. Such beautiful souls but their chances of being adopted are almost zero.”

  “Why?”

  “Their father was black and their mother white. The black community in Boston didn’t want them and we know what the white community is like. They have been living at the orphanage for over a year now, actually, make that nearly two years.”

  “I am sure they are well cared for.”

  “They are and we shower them with love but that doesn’t stop Rosa asking when her real parents will come and pick her. It’s heartbreaking.”

  “There are so many things we could do if we had the funds to work with. Our people are generous but they have so little themselves.” Reverend Douglass looked into the distance toward the area of Denver with the big houses and fancy buildings. “So many have so much and yet we have children who have few clothes and no shoes even in the depths of winter.”

  “How can you believe so strongly in a God that lets this happen?”

  Reverend Douglass stopped walking and took Wilma’s hands in his. Looking into her eyes, he said softly “God gave man free will. This is not God’s doing but our own.”

  Wilma wasn’t at all sure she agreed, but she didn’t want to offend the young preacher.

  “So where are these people you want me to meet?”

  “Over here but first I would like to ask you a favor. I know we have just met and it is a little presumptuous but you have a warm heart. So does your white friend. Would you take one of our community back with you when you return to your town?”

  “Jane?”

  The look of astonishment on his face was funny. “Did Eliza mention this already?”

  “No, Reverend Douglass but she told me what happened to young Jane. We met her yesterday. Her heart is full of anger.”

  “Yes, it is and after what happened to her, few would blame the girl. But her mother worries she may get into more trouble. She has started taking big risks. She purposefully walks through areas we have been warned to avoid. It is as if she is baiting them on purpose.”

  “Or trying to prove what those animals did to her, hasn’t destroyed her. But yes, whatever her reasons, she is putting herself in danger. I am more than happy to bring her to Clover Springs. She will be safe there. But will she want to come with us?”

  “I do not know. I have yet to speak to her. But I sense she might be glad to move away. She thinks our people blame her for what happened.” He took a large breath as if talking about Jane was difficult.

  “Some probably do,” Wilma agreed nodding her head. “In my experience, it is very easy for people who have never lived your life to cast judgement. She needs time away from everyone she knows in order to recover and come to terms with her ordeal. Maybe then she could come back.”

  “You are a very wise woman, Miss Wilma. I would like to come and visit your town for myself.”

  “Please do. Father Molloy, he’s our Catholic priest, would love to speak with you. He likes to meet with other preachers and exchange ideas.”

  “Will he try to convert me? I am not fit for the celibate life,” he joked. “I quite like the idea of settling down and getting married.”

  Wilma followed his gaze to where it came to rest on Jane. Oh, the poor man. He was in love with a rape victim. She put her hand on his arm. “Mr. Douglass, if you can convince the girl to come with me, I promise to do everything I can to help her recover. I have some experience in this area, more than I ever hoped to have. I can tell you the girl you knew prior to the attack will never completely return. The attack and what she has suffered since will shape her personality, but with help, hopefully, she won’t remain angry at the world.”

  Reverend Douglass squeezed Wilma’s hand. “I am so grateful for what you are offering. I will try to convince her to go with you. Now let me introduce you to some people who may be able to help you.”

  The preacher led Wilma over to a group of older people who were sitting closest to the large fire someone had lit.

  “We don’t have an indoor space big enough to fit everyone, so if it is dry but cold, we light the fire so we can all sit together.”

  Wilma appreciated why. This was a real community with people of all ages gathered together. Some were chatting, some were playing instruments, others singing or cooking or both. The children were having fun, even the dogs and cats looked like they were smiling. For the first time in a very long time she had a flashback to what life had been like in her youth. A scene like this occupied her mind rather than the more savage moments she usually remembered. In her mind, she could see Granny tending the fire while everyone sat around chatting and having fun. Her ma and pa had been there, her pa’s arms, which were as wide as a tree trunk, wrapped firmly around her ma’s waist. She’d looked happy. Blinking her eyes rapidly removed the scene, it would only lead to tears and today was supposed to be a happy one.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Wilma. She’s looking for her daughter, whom she last saw in eighteen sixty-four. I will leave you to chat. If I can do anything you know where to find me.”

  “Thank you, preacher, we will talk later about that other matter.”

  He shook her hand, gave her a warm smile and then left to speak to another group. Wilma suddenly felt like she was ten years old wondering if anyone would play with her.

  “Come over here and rest a while. Get a bit of warmth into your bones. That preacher, he be a good one, but he can talk the hind legs off a horse.”

  Relieved, Wilma smiled at the lady and took a seat beside her.

  “So tell us your story, Wilma, let’s see can any of us help.”

  Wilma took a deep breath and told her story over again. She managed to get through it well enough, only the occasional tear escaped. The lady sitting beside her took her hand and held onto it tight as she stumbled over the last part.

  “That’s the last time I saws my baby girl. She ain’t a baby no more, maybe she is dead. I just don’t know.”

  “What was the name of her young friend?”

  “Andrew but I don’t know his surname. I don’t think I ever did. It is like looking for one ear of corn in a whole corn field.”

  A few laughed at the analogy but one man kept staring at her, his eyes boring into her soul. She shifted, trying to escape his gaze but nothing she did worked.

  “Zack, you cut that out. You is scaring her. That ain’t nice.”

  Wilma expected an acknowledgment or even an apology, but instead, the man called Zack got up and walked away.

  “He don’t say much. He got badly treated,” the woman sitting beside her said, although her tone showed she was annoyed. “They caught him when he run away and brought him back. I won’t give you the details of what happened next. He still carries the scars. But it’s his heart that needs healing. He can’t find his family neither.”

  “Maybe me
being here brought back bad memories,” Wilma said, although her head was telling her different. She had a feeling she’d met Zack before but she couldn’t place where. It wasn’t on the last plantation she lived on. Had it been somewhere since then?

  She tried to dismiss Zack from her mind but she found it hard to do. There was something in his gaze calling to her. After a while, she decided to stretch her legs. She had told her story and for now that was all she could do. She went for a walk, telling herself she was looking for Lorena.

  She walked down to where Eliza Jane’s house was but there was no sign of Lorena or any of Eliza Jane’s family. She was about to turn back when she felt him staring at her again. She looked behind her and there he was. Not standing next to her but about twenty feet behind her.

  “I knows you.”

  “You must be mistaken. I don’t think we ever met,” she denied, yet she knew he was right. But the memory wouldn’t resurface. It was too scary.

  “Yes, we did. A long time ago. Don’t you remember?” His eyes bored into hers stirring up faint memories. The beating hot sun, thirst combined with fear, fifty other bodies of all ages crowded around her. A young man had given her a cup of water and got beaten severely for his trouble. That young man was…

  “Yes, it’s me. You was waiting for the auction block. You and your daughter, although I thought you was friends. She had paler skin.”

  Wilma continued to stare at him as the world turned black.

  She came to lying on the sofa in Eliza Jane’s home. Lorena was by her side, her face ashen with worry. The preacher was in the other chair and Eliza Jane was hovering. She tried to sit up but Mrs. Grey put her hand on her chest.

  “Keep lying down for a few minutes. You had a nasty fall.”

  “Is he here?”

  “Who?”

  “Zack?”

  “Is that the man she was talking to before she fainted?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Grey, but we don’t know where he went. Someone said he recognized Wilma.”

 

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