Finding Eliza

by Stephanie Pitcher Fishman

  “That and she wants you to finally understand that you are more than what troubles you each fall into. I understand it, Lizzie, I really do, but it casts such a shadow over you. It’s time for you to understand that it’s okay to be sad, but it’s also okay to move forward and live. That’s what your grandmother is trying to teach you. The world moves on. You don’t have to be sad to remember your parents.”

  Lizzie bristled at her husband’s honesty. She knew that Jack was right, but she didn’t see what the two had to do with each other at all.

  “I’m trying. I am. I just don’t understand why we have to keep talking about it.”

  Jack switched gears back to the place where Lizzie was happy. “Let’s go back to the diary. I bet you’re glad that you’ll be home from work tomorrow. Should I expect a full report when I’m done with my shift?”

  “You know it. This is going to be a good story. I just don’t understand what could have caused my great-grandfather to erase his sister from our family.”

  “There’s only one way to find out. Read the diary.”

  Jack was right. They could sit and discuss it all night, but it was all speculation at this point. Lizzie decided to head to bed with her antique diary and sink deep into the mind of Alston James. As she was carrying her mug of warm cider up the stairs to the bedroom, her cell phone rang.

  “Lizzie, dear, don’t you have that diary around your mug tonight. You leave it downstairs.”

  “How did you know I had a mug of cider, Gran?” Lizzie giggled. Leave it to her grandmother to catch her in the act.

  “I know because I am the all-powerful Gran. Plus, Jack told me earlier that he was going to have a fire and some cider waiting on you in case you needed to talk. That’s neither here nor there. Now, go on to bed. Just don’t have drinks around my Daddy’s diary or I’ll swat you.”

  “I promise. I’m walking into the kitchen right now. Anything else you’d like to order, I mean, suggest?”

  “Yes. Don’t call Abi first. It’s my father’s diary. I get to hear all about it before that old woman does.”

  “Goodnight, Gran.”

  “Goodnight, dear.”

  Lizzie left her cider on the kitchen counter like an obedient granddaughter and headed up the stairs once again. It was time to find what mysterious events the diary held inside its covers.

  ***

  Lizzie pulled her hair into a loose bun and crawled between the crisp white sheets of their queen-sized bed. Closing her eyes, she took a minute to enjoy the warmth and weight of the quilts on her legs. She scooted her body into the curves of the mattress from years of sleeping in the same place. Rather than complaining that they needed a new mattress, Lizzie took comfort in it. Knowing that there was one spot in this world molded just for her made her smile. The dip in the mattress had become one of her favorite places in the house.

  A smile came across her face as she smoothed the wrinkles from the quilts. Now that arthritis plagued her hands, Gertrude turned to a sewing machine for her quilting. Before that, Gertrude preferred to create her quilts by hand in the fashion of her mother and grandmother. Lizzie loved that it was a talent that her grandmother liked to share by gifting the quilts at Christmas and birthdays. They took her back to her childhood. From the time she was a child, these same homemade quilts kept Lizzie’s beds warm at night. They comforted her while she was sick, and they gave structure to imaginative forts. It seemed so fitting to Lizzie that even now as a grown woman in her own home, the quilts would once again be part of her next adventure.

  Perfect for reading, she thought as her mind moved back to the contents of the diary.

  Lizzie reached over to her bedside table and lifted the leather-bound diary from its resting place. Opening the cover she read once again the dedication:

  “In this diary I poured my heart and deeds.

  I beg forgiveness from the next generation,

  May God have mercy on my soul.

  ~ Alston James, amended in 1979.”

  “Didn’t you die in 1979?” Lizzie made a mental note to ask her grandmother about it when they met for lunch the following afternoon. She couldn’t recall the details surrounding his death. It seemed strange that he worried about his diary so close to the end of his life. Turning the pages, Lizzie sank into the diary. “Let’s see what secrets you were keeping, Gramps.”

  ***

  Diary of Alston James: 23 August 1934

  I’ve been watching my sister closely over the last few days. I realized that I need to prove my suspicions. I couldn’t allow myself to jump to conclusions. I needed to learn more about what we were facing.

  I haven’t been able to find her in the library again. She must be meeting her companion at a different location. It couldn’t have been easy for him to slip into the school - too dangerous for her to go to the colored school, too.

  Watching her with that boy was just so shocking. I never would have suspected her of something like this.

  Today I decided to follow her after she left the high school. Instead of walking toward home, she took the east road out of town. We never walk along the east road…

  Eliza seemed completely at ease. I don’t think she suspected that I was looking for her.

  I saw her slip into a barn out at the old Atkinson place. I called her name just before she went inside, but she didn’t hear me. Either I was too far away or the words just didn’t leave my lips as loud as I thought.

  Eliza looked over her shoulder, but I think it was just out of caution. She didn’t seem to see me at all.

  I saw through the window that they were talking, and their familiarity showed a relationship that isn’t just a friendship. I took a deep breath to steady myself and waited until they had turned their backs.

  Just as I was about to enter the barn, I saw what I dreaded. He took Eliza, my baby sister, into his arms. He kissed her. I saw him kiss her.

  This should not be done. If someone other than I had found out… this could be horrible for her. It could be horrible for everyone. What on earth is she thinking?

  My dear Heavenly Father, I didn’t want it to be true, but I confirmed suspicions today with this one act.

  I pray for guidance.

  Standing outside the barn, Alston found himself shivering. This time of year, shaking like this only came because of anger or fear. Calm by nature, he wasn’t accustomed to losing control. His emotions overflowed from him so fast that he wasn’t able to stop the movement in his legs. He felt like a caged animal pacing back and forth in a cage of his own making.

  “How could you be so careless?” he whispered.

  Looking around the farm, Alston made sure that they were alone at the abandoned barn. They weren’t far enough off the road to give them the protection that he desperately wanted at that moment. If someone was to wander by they would be able to see people at the barn. In a small town like Everett Springs, someone would stop to help thinking that there may have been automobile trouble. Even worse, they could alert the local volunteer fire department fearing a fire in the dry field or barn.

  Alston had to grab Eliza’s attention and get her out of the area before someone saw her. A discovery like this could have disastrous consequences. Weighing his options, Alston realized that he could do only one thing in the short amount of time available. He had to confront his sister.

  He took several deep breaths to slow his heart rate as he walked around the side of the barn. In his nervousness, the brittle, parched grass under his feet sounded as loud as the crackle of thunder in a storm. The walk took mere seconds yet felt like hours. Alston reached the barn door before he was able to fully prepare for what would happen next.

  Steadying his breathing in an attempt to gain control, Alston lowered his eyes and whispered a simple prayer.

  “Dear Heavenly Father, please prepare my heart so that the words from my mouth match the wish and desire you have for this situation. May your will be done. In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.”

 
Alston placed a flat palm on the weathered barn door and began to slide it open. The heavy wood creaked with the sudden movement. The barn groaned as he struggled with its rusty hinges, startling Eliza and her young friend. Alston moved the door enough to squeeze through. At the same time, they pushed through the heavy door at the opposite end of the barn and began running toward the empty field.

  “Wait!” shouted Alston. “Stop, Eliza. Now!”

  Hearing a familiar voice, Eliza stopped cold. She began begging the person she was with to keep going. Alston saw a teenaged boy standing in the middle of the field looking back at his sister, his face twisted in fear. He stood motionless as if he were deciding if he should run to save her or run to safety himself.

  “Run, Eldridge! Go! Don’t stop!” screamed Eliza. “I’m fine. Go, on!”

  Eliza struggled to close the barn door creating a barrier between her brother and her companion. As soon as Eldridge was out of site, Eliza burst into tears. Covering her face as she dropped to her knees, she grabbed her brother’s legs and began begging him to stop the pursuit.

  “Please, don’t go after him, Allie. Look at me. Stay here and talk with me. Please let him go!” Her tears fell as she began crying audibly and continued to beg. “Look at me, Allie. Look at me!”

  Distraught, Eliza’s body finally gave way and acted against her. Alston saw her form crumple onto the dirt floor of the barn. She didn’t have the power or energy to do anything but weep. Her cries grew louder as she kept repeating, “Just look at me, Allie. Not him, just me.”

  Alston stood there, stunned. His mind raced from thought to thought. He was angry that his sister had kept such a dangerous secret from him. Fear held him captive.

  Alston knelt and wrapped his arms around his sister, hugging the sobbing teenager. He moved her hands away from her face and held them in the palm of his own. The damage that these kids could cause to both their families made Alston want to lash out at her. At the same time, Eliza was his baby sister. She held such a special place in his heart that he could do nothing but place his arms gently around her to console her.

  “Oh, Eliza. What were you thinking? You can’t do things like this in Everett Springs.”

  His sister’s tears continued to fall as she gasped for breath between quiet wails.

  “Let’s stand up. Look at you. You’ve gotten dirt all over your beautiful skirt. Mama will not be happy if that stains. You look just like Bette Davis, remember. Sweetheart, we’ve got to get you up before you do more damage.” As angry as he was, Eliza was his sister, and his heart broke with every tear that fell from her big green eyes. He wanted to protect her, not make her cry.

  Alston had a war of conflicting emotions welling up inside of him.

  “Please, Allie, you can’t tell Mama you found me here. I don’t know what Daddy would do to him,” Eliza begged.

  “Daddy is the last of your concerns. Do you realize what could happen to you had any number of men in the county caught either you? You shouldn’t have been here. Who was that boy? Tell me. You have to, Eliza, and now. I demand it.”

  Alston wasn’t used to being firm with his sister. Under the circumstances it was easy as long as he ignored her tears and focused on the terror that held him hostage.

  As soon as she was standing, Eliza threw herself into Alston’s arms, crying and pouring out her soul to her best friend. She told her older brother about the love she had for the boy who she had met walking home from town one afternoon.

  “Eliza, you can’t be serious. A white girl and a colored boy isn’t just against the law, baby. It’s dangerous.”

  “But he loves me, Allie,” said Eliza.

  Alston rubbed his forehead and tried to think of a way to make his sister understand. “I’m not just concerned for you. It’s me and Anne, Mama and Daddy, even Eldridge and his family. You’re too young to understand.”

  “No, I’m not. I understand what life should be like. The only thing I don’t understand is what it is. Eldridge should have been standing here meeting my big brother instead of running home. He shouldn’t be worried about an angry wood shop teacher chasing him through a field. That’s what’s wrong. Please, Allie, you have to keep my secret.” Eliza stopped sobbing long enough to look up at her brother.

  “Eliza, I just don’t know if I can.”

  Chapter Eight

  The drama in the journal continued to unfold before Lizzie. Within the covers of the tiny, worn leather diary the details of the relationship played out. In her mind, she heard the arguments between Alston and Eliza. Lizzie could feel the fear that gripped her great-grandfather when his sister admitted that she was in love with a man of color. Even Lizzie knew that it wasn’t a safe choice for a white girl living in the Deep South during the 1930s. Polite society didn’t discuss Jim Crow’s south, but Lizzie knew that it wasn’t acceptable. She could picture the heated exchanges that the James family must have had around their kitchen tables then.

  Lizzie read until her eyelids felt as heavy as lead. Jack’s snoring jolted her out of the diary’s grip. Leaning forward to see her antique two-belled alarm clock, Lizzie realized that the morning was coming fast. A little sleep was necessary if she was going to make it through lunch with her grandmother.

  “It looks like I’ll have to meet you in the morning, Gramps.” She closed the diary and placed it next to her on the bedside table.

  As Lizzie slept, she tossed and turned while the journal’s scenes played through her dreams like a movie on a theater screen. Not knowing what Eliza or Eldridge looked like, she allowed her imagination to fill in the details. The familiar faces of Hollywood began acting out the roles of each character in the story. Eliza appeared on the dirty barn floor in her flowing skirt. In Lizzie’s dreams, her great-aunt looked just like a cross between a graceful Ginger Rogers and a muddy, potato-wielding Scarlet O’Hara.

  Lizzie woke earlier than normal with a million questions buzzing through her thoughts. Taking a pen and paper from the nightstand drawer, she began to capture her questions in ink before they flew out of her mind.

  Sounds from the floor below caught her attention. Lizzie could hear her husband moving around the kitchen. She could picture Jack filling his thermos with hot, black coffee as he packed his lunch for a shift at the station. She loved that he got ready for work every morning in the same, methodical order. His consistent behavior made her feel safe.

  Lizzie tossed the pad of paper onto the bed and flung back the heavy quilts. She wanted to make sure she spent time with him before work, filling him in on the diary’s latest twist of events. She headed straight for their cramped walk-in closet for her favorite slippers and robe. Old farm houses had drafts that required a good pair of slippers in the fall. Luckily, Lizzie’s obsession with warmth and comfort meant she was always prepared. Lizzie crossed the bedroom until she caught a glimpse of herself in the standing mirror in the corner. Giggling, she broke into an impromptu twirl. With her jade green robe and ruby red slippers, she felt like a character from The Wizard of Oz.

  “If only I had my Toto.”

  As Lizzie entered the kitchen, she saw that Jack had poured her a fresh cup of coffee. Next to her steaming cup was a toasted bagel and her favorite light vegetable cream cheese.

  “Once again, you prove to me just why I keep you around.” Lizzie walked up behind Jack as he washed his breakfast dishes in the sink. She pressed her face into his back and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him like she hadn’t seen him in days.

  “Don’t you forget it,” replied Jack. Wiping mounds of soap bubbles from his hands, he swiveled in her arms and pulled her in close. “So, give me the skinny on what Gramps had to say. I woke up at two a.m., and you still had the light on. How late did you stay up reading, anyway?”

  “I wasn’t up much after that. It is so interesting, Jack. I think I’m beginning to understand Eliza’s secrets.”

  “Do tell…” Jack laced his arms across his chest and leaned back against the kitchen sink. “Secre
ts, huh? Sounds juicy.”

  “My great-aunt Eliza was in a relationship with an African American man. Well, if you want to call a seventeen-year-old boy a man.” Lizzie crossed the kitchen and sat down at the table to enjoy her coffee and bagel as they talked.

  “That’s not exactly the big secret that I thought it was going to be. Two teenagers dating. Really risky. Well, unless Daddy had a shot gun and little Eliza was home late after a date,” teased Jack with wink. He refilled his mug with strong, black coffee and joined Lizzie at the table. Jack checked the time on the time-worn pocket watch that he carried just as his grandfather had. Leaning back to prop his feet onto the seat across from him, he added, “I’ve got a little time for a few more details.”

  “You’ve got to put it into perspective. This was happening in 1934. I don’t think that was a normal occurrence then at all. Remember, Jim Crow laws were in effect up until the 1960s. We are talking about a time when they weren’t even allowed to go to the same school much less date. I mean, this was risky business. I’ve got a ton of questions for Gran today.”

  “What did your great-grandfather write about it? I bet he flipped his lid.”

  “I don’t know how it ended. I’m not that far into the diary yet. Alston seemed scared in the entries that I read. I spent a few hours going through them, but there’s so much more in those pages. He spent a lot of time begging her to keep herself safe. Several times he wrote that he asked her to stop seeing this boy so that she wouldn’t bring attention to herself or to their family.” Lizzie took another bite of her bagel. “I didn’t get the feeling that it offended him as much as you’d think back then. I think he was more afraid.”

  “Afraid of what? Their parents?”

  “I guess. I read a handful of entries that made it seem like Alston and my great-grandmother, Anne, discussed it at length. They even had Eliza out for the weekend so that they could talk to her. I guess it was a Depression-era version of an intervention. He wrote like it was a pretty big deal. I think they tried to handle it quietly. He seemed pretty close with his sister.”