The Heart Calls Home

by Joyce Hansen

Oh, never shone a day so glad

  On sweet St. Helena’s Isle.

  —JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

  May 1869

  “You think this day ever come, Obi?” Samuel asked as he brushed Obi’s jacket, making sure there was not a speck of dust or lint on his new suit.

  Obi pulled on his shiny new boots. “Samuel, these only the second pair of boots I ever own in my life.”

  “And the army give you the first pair and they wasn’t even new.” Samuel laughed loudly and happily as if this were his wedding day.

  “You know the money I spend on this suit? I could buy lumber for an addition to that rickety cabin you and Simon build for me and Easter.” Obi smiled, making sure that the crease in his trouser leg was sharp.

  “You have that big job in Elenaville. I know the man is paying you well. You could hire a work gang throw that house up for you in a day,” Samuel joked.

  “Richards cry about every two cents he pay me.”

  “You only get marry one time.” Samuel fingered one of the sleeves on Obi’s jacket. “This good material. You can use this same suit for your funeral too.”

  “This a one-time suit then, eh?” Obi laughed.

  Samuel stepped back and studied him. “I do believe Easter is going to fall in love with you all over again.” He patted Obi on his back. “Well now, sir, you is finely turned out and ready to jump that broom.” Suddenly, Samuel looked very serious. “That’s a blessed thing you doing. Keeping them children. I never tell you this, but one time I asked my wife about taking them since our Charlotte was gone home.” His voice cracked. “She say no, ’cause Charlotte was a freeborn child, and them children still have the stink of slavery on them.” He brushed the back of his hand across his eyes. “Man, this your wedding day. Why I conjure that up?”

  Obi patted Samuel on the shoulder. “I understand how she feel. We all have it. But in time we clean it off.”

  The door flew open without warning. A tall, rail-thin young man in a white linen suit and a white felt hat practically danced into the cabin. His grin was wide and bright, and he grabbed and hugged Obi. “Is them old yam feet going to dance a reel for your wedding?”

  Obi was speechless for a moment. “Jason?” He gave him a bear hug and then held him at arm’s length. He could not believe it. He’d become a sharp, snappy city boy. Obi hugged him again. “I am so happy to see you. Easter told me she wrote you. You seen her yet?”

  “Oh, yes. She say, hurry. She tired of waiting. I met them children you all adopted too. That poor little boy don’t know what a hard time he’s in for.” Jason grinned and then turned to Samuel, shaking his hand. “How you doing, man?”

  “Hey, boy. You come back down here in the briar patch with us?”

  “Not to stay. Going back to Chicargo tomorrow before Obi put a plow in my hands.”

  Samuel’s laughter and Jason’s bright excitement filled the cabin.

  “You know, Jason, I could still box you behind the ears,” Obi chuckled as they left the cabin.

  Almost all traces of the storm had disappeared. Two of the azalea bushes had come back to life. Violets bloomed along the footpath to Rose’s yard, and the blackberry bush behind the cabin was covered with white blossoms.

  When Obi, Samuel, and Jason entered Rose’s yard, everyone congratulated Obi and welcomed Jason. Jason rubbed his hands together, “Obi, I going to dance my fool head off for you and Easter.”

  The yard was transformed. The children had decorated the gate and fence with garlands created with moss, pink azaleas, and violets. Two tables covered with white tablecloths stood near the fence. The aroma of fish stew and gumbo floated to them from the cauldrons in the backyard.

  Brother Paul directed Obi to stand under a brush arbor. It had become a New Canaan tradition among the original settlers to marry under a brush arbor reminiscent of slavery days, when they had to worship outdoors and in secret. “So we don’t forget where we come from,” Rose had explained to Obi.

  Rose walked out of the cabin. Though she was not as plump as she had been before her illness, her great eyes were large and beautiful. Julius graciously held out his hand to help her step down from the porch, and it occurred to Obi that maybe Julius was beginning to cock his eyes on Rose.

  Grace followed Rose out of the cabin. Her hair was neatly braided, with a big blue bow on one side of her head to match the blue dress trimmed in white lace that Obi had bought her. She did not stare into space but seemed startled at the sight of so many people smiling in her direction. “My Lord, look at that child. Don’t look like the same little girl,” Miss Mary whispered to Samuel’s wife.

  Obi motioned for Grace, Scipio, and Jason to stand near him.

  When Easter stepped out behind Grace, there was first a murmur and then clapping. She wore a plain white cotton dress trimmed in lace, with a sprig of tiny white flowers in her hair. Obi could not stop smiling at his bride as Easter took her place next to him.

  Jason, standing directly behind Obi, whispered in his ear. “It do feel good to be home.”

  Epilogue

  January 1, 1871

  Dear Thomas,

  Happy Emancipation Day to you my friend. I was so pleased to receive your recent letter and to know that you and Peter are buying land in Dunlap, Kansas. It’s been so long since the first letter you wrote to me, I began to think that you all were lost in the Plains. Or, that you never left New Orleans. Well, boys, no need to save any of that Kansas land for me, my feet are stuck in this sandy Carolina soil. I have even purchased twenty acres of it. So many things have happened since we last saw one another.

  My Easter and I were married over a year ago. I own a carpenter’s shop and keep busy enough. We have begun to build a small orphanage and school. Remember those children we found hiding in the woods? They followed me here to Santa Elena, and Easter and I are raising two of them as our own. Sadly, the youngest girl died back in ’69. But Thomas, the greatest news is that Easter has given me a wonderful Christmas gift. Last month she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. We have named her Araba. She is the joy of our lives. I have never been so content.

  Now, let me tell you how all of these things came about...

  Author’s Note

  The Reconstruction era after the Civil War forms the backdrop for this story. While all of the characters are fictional, some of the incidents that touched their lives are based upon actual events.

  This was a time of hope for four million freed people of African descent. Freed men and women were able to work for wages, enter contracts, send their children to school, and in some cases purchase land and begin to build their own communities, similar to my fictional New Canaan. When the Fourteenth Amendment was ratified in 1868, black men gained the right to vote, and black citizens were supposed to have equal protection under the law. By 1869 black men began to participate in the political process.

  These were also dangerous and bitter times. Reconstruction witnessed the rise of the Ku Klux Klan, the Red Shirts, the Knights of the White Camellia, and other hate groups. These groups sought by fear and intimidation to keep blacks from voting and participating in politics and in other arenas of public life as full American citizens. Benjamin Randolph, a black senator from Orangeburg, South Carolina, murdered in October 1868 while campaigning for the Republican party, was but one of many blacks who were either killed or beaten during and after the Reconstruction era. In 1866 a black settlement in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, was burned to the ground, and all of the men, women, and children living there were hanged. There were also bloody riots in large southern cities such as Memphis, Tennessee, and New Orleans, Louisiana. White northerners who were active in Republican politics in the South were victims of violence as well.

  The Reconstruction era ended in 1877 when the last of the federal troops were removed, and the political gains made by the freedmen were eradicated. Their determined and brave quest for freedom and full citizenship did not end, however, with that first generation of freed men and wom
en. Their spirit breathed courage into the hearts of a new generation of children, women, and men who fought for full civil rights for all Americans.

  Also by Joyce Hansen

  Which Way Freedom

  Out from This Place

  Copyright © 1999 by Joyce Hansen

  All rights reserved.

  You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce, or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  First published in the United States of America in 1999

  by Walker Publishing Company, Inc., a division of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.

  E-book edition published in February 2013

  www.bloomsbury.com

  For information about permission to reproduce selections from his book, write to

  Permissions, Walker BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Bloomberg, Georgina.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Hansen, Joyce.

  The heart calls home/Joyce Hansen.

  p. cm.

  Sequel to: Out from this place.

  Summary: After the Civil War, former slave Obi Booker tries to

  make a new life on a South Carolina island while waiting to be

  joined by his beloved Easter, who is studying in the North.

  1. Afro-Americans Juvenile fiction. 2. Reconstruction Juvenile

  fiction. 3. United States—History—1865-1898 Juvenile fiction.

  [1. Afro-Americans Fiction. 2. Reconstruction Fiction. 3. United

  States—History—1865-1898 Fiction. 4. Islands Fiction. 5. South

  Carolina Fiction.] I. Tide.

  PZ7.H19825He 1999

  [Fic]—dc21 99-19596

  ISBN 978-0-802-73553-9 (e-book)