by Carter, Noni
I rushed back to Hadson, filled with joy and determination after my discussion with Mrs. Rosa about how to make my school a reality. A year ago I simply wanted my own education, and now here I was, ready to teach others—at an elementary level, at least.
When I returned to the house, I told Mama Bessie, who was in the kitchen cooking, about the plan. She immediately sat down with me to come up with the best time of day and best place to do what I wished.
“You know, Anna, ever since you went off learning like you are, I been prayin’ you’d do somethin’ like this. Now here you are, ready to teach these younguns round here. What a blessing you are!”
I grinned and said, “If I may say so, Mama Bessie, I’m doing this more for myself than anything. Some urge is just pushing me to do this.”
“Well, Anna, it’s something that needs to be done, an’ God is telling you that. You keep listening, and this school of yours will go far.”
I nodded in agreement. We talked as we cooked the rest of the meal.
Not a week later, I stood tall and ready as thirteen small boys and girls sat giggling and squirming on a quilt spread out on the grass outside Mama Bessie’s. They ranged in age from five to twelve. Mrs. Rosa and I had put together a teaching plan for them, and now I was getting ready to implement it. Ned sat in the very front and seemed more excited than the rest.
“Miss Anna, we gonna be able to read like you?”
“Miss Anna, can you teach me to write my name?”
“Miss Anna, what if it rains?”
“Be quiet now so Miss Anna can start. If you don’t listen up now, she’s gonna send you back inside. You don’t want that, now, do you?” Mama Bessie’s voice echoed from where she sat mending clothes, under the tree. Thirteen no’s blew my way as I beamed at them all.
Florence was also out there, keeping order for me as well as she could. Personally, I believed she, too, was out there to learn. What was more, I had convinced Anita to help me teach. She stood by Florence quiet but alert.
The idea was that three times a week, I would teach them for two hours, and I stayed as committed as I could to making those two hours beneficial to every single child. I thought back to when I used to peak into the school building back in Tennessee and tried to mimic the calm, composed manner in which the teacher stood and went about her work. I was surprised at how well the children kept their focus on the lessons.
The hour began with Anita and me writing the alphabet and having the children identify each letter as we told them the different sounds of each one. To make the task easier, we divided the children into two groups, with Anita and me each leading one. I enjoyed the lesson a great deal.
I had believed that breaking through Anita’s solemness and convincing her to work with me would be difficult. But the first time I asked her to help me teach, she agreed with a nod even before I could begin to explain the idea in more depth. Her manner altered when she was out there, just as it did when she was with Little Sue. I marveled at the change but didn’t comment on it. Florence noticed it too.
“That the same Anita I know?” Florence whispered to me the first day, enjoying the sight of a giggling cluster of girls surrounding Anita’s tall form.
As the weeks went by, one or two more children from different families began to show up. The news of my “school” was spreading quickly, and I was excited.
One day I looked up, while the lesson was still in progress, to see I had some visitors standing off to the side. Henry stood looking out at the horizon, and Daniel was leaning against a tree, closer to where we sat.
I hadn’t seen Henry since the dance a few months before. I had been pondering how to apologize to him for my response to his marriage proposal. I knew I had been wrong, and if anything, Henry had been looking out for me. Family was of great value in the community. I had to apologize, and now was the time. But when the final child skipped off, proud to have sounded out an entire word with my help, Henry was gone. So I walked up to Daniel instead.
“You mighty busy now, Anna, out here savin’ the community by teachin’ these kids, workin’ wit your own tutor, an’ helpin’ Mama Bessie out all at the same time. Don’t know no one else who could do it all!”
I looked down at my feet, smiling a little. “You make it sound like a lot, brother.”
“It is, tho’,” he said.
“I guess so. You know, Sebastian, I was thinking that one day, I could get a building for the school. You know, it’s nice out here, but this would be more like a school if we were actually under a roof.”
“Gotta go one step at a time, sis. You’ll get that buildin’, jus’ like you got yo’ education. You got this special way of bringin’ to you what you really want.”
I shrugged. “Some things.”
“Yeah, well, you know, I’m thinkin’ ’bout a house right now. We need a home.”
He was right. He had been staying with Rodney’s relatives, and I had been living at Mama Bessie’s for a year and a half now.
“Talked to Henry,” Daniel said to me, changing the topic.
I looked away from my brother, recalling our conversations after the night of the dance. I remembered Florence telling me the proposal wasn’t so bad and that Henry really cared for me. She didn’t understand, but Daniel did, and the only thing my brother had told me that night with a sad smile was that I was one stubborn woman.
“Said he’s doin’ jus’ right fine. Got him a—”
“I’ve been meaning to apologize to him, Sebastian,” I explained quickly, interrupting him.
Daniel put his hand on my shoulder and stared at me until I looked up at him. “It ain’t my business, sis,” he said with a soft smile. “Don’t care if you like that wit all the menfolk you meet!” he said, laughing. The laughter quickly died, however, when I didn’t respond.
“Anna, I jus’ wanted to tell ya. We’ve bin here fo’ some time. You gotta … you gotta live yo’ life.”
“I am, Daniel!” I whispered harshly, and then more calmly, “Sebastian. Brother, this is my life,” motioning to the yard where I held my school sessions.
“I know that, Anna, but—”
“He promised me, Sebastian,” I said softly, looking steadily into my brother’s eyes. He swallowed, looking back at me, and I turned to walk away, making every effort in the way I walked and the way I held my posture to seem content with my situation. But I was fooling myself, and I knew it. What kind of chance was there that John would find me? I didn’t know what I meant by telling Daniel what I did, but I buried the questions and let my concerns blow away on the wind.
CHAPTER
45
WITH TWO STRONG BEATS OF TWO MIGHTY WINGS, I WAS HIGH, very high above the shores of my homeland. The wind caressed my face and I was cradled in a woman’s arms. African scent, black skin: Mama.
A woman with skin a little lighter, her body a little heavier, began to stroke my hair away from my face, her own brilliant wings sheltering me from the sun’s rays: Mary.
Then I stood alone, watching the two women, radiant with light and love, smiling at me, telling me without words to remember my name, Bahati.
With a few beats of their massive, colorful wings, these bare feminine bodies disappeared over the seas and flew across lands, rejoining the trees, the plants, the earth, the animals….
“Sarah!” I heard my name being called, pulling me back to Earth.
“Anna!” Could that be … was that … John?
“Anna!” The loud whisper jolted me awake, pulling me quickly from my dream. I jumped up in time to see Anita pulling open the door and running over to me. Florence had woken up and was staring wide-eyed at Anita. Panic spread like a wildfire through my limbs.
“What is it, Anita?” I asked as Mama Bessie walked through the door with her arms crossed and deep furrows lining her forehead.
“She can’t find him, Anna, she can’t find him! They’re looking for him, but … but they can’t find him! He came to Mrs. Rosa—”
>
“Anita!” I whispered loudly, trying to slow her thoughts down, feeling my own heart straining to stay calm. “Anita, who? Who are you talking about?”
“Mrs. Rosa … Mrs. Rosa’s husband …”
My heart paused feeling the tension in her words. I pulled on my clothes, looking over at Florence and then at Mama Bessie. They stood unmoving, concern in their eyes.
“Anita, has Mrs. Rosa been harmed? Where is she?” Anita didn’t answer, just stood with her hands around her arms, staring past me. “Anita!”
“She’s fine, Anna. She wanted me to find you. She felt you were a part of this, and she needs your company.”
I nodded, my heart feeling heavy.
“Anna?” Florence whispered from under her pallet. “Anna, let me see what I can find out around here, and I’ll find you two. Where … ?”
Florence and I turned questioning eyes to Anita.
“We’ll be at my house.” Then Anita explained to Florence, as quickly as she could, how to get to the old man’s place. Then Anita and I rushed out onto the road, where a wagon was waiting. She gestured in the direction of the driver.
“The old man I live with hired him out. You remember when I came over asking for the medicine after Joshua got sick?”
I nodded.
“He lived through that, but barely so. He’s been bedridden to the point where he can’t even get up and take his normal morning walks. But I explained to him what happened this evening, and he offered to help in whatever manner he could. He’s a good man.”
“What did happen, Anita?” I asked her as we pulled off into the night. “You said Mr. Caldwell’s missing.”
“He didn’t come home when he was supposed to, last Thursday evening. Mrs. Rosa waited for two days, hoping he was simply tied up in travel or the like. But it wasn’t that.”
I clasped my hands together nervously and stared off into the night, afraid of what would come next.
“He came to her earlier this evening, Anna. He used the back entrance and their code to tell her there was trouble. She only saw him for a few minutes, but … there was blood on his face and hands.”
I caught a sob that had tried to escape my throat, and listened on in silence.
“He told Mrs. Rosa he didn’t have long, that he didn’t know how the night would end. He said that she was safe—and that he wanted her to wait at home for him for at least a few hours. No one saw him approach the house—but he said he was on the run. Some person had been tipped off that through his work, Mr. Caldwell was helping runaways.”
“What?” I asked in disbelief. “Was he really doing that kind of work, Anita?”
“I don’t know, Anna. But regardless, Mr. Caldwell said they had no real proof. He said it was also possible that somebody had found out about his black blood, but he wasn’t sure.”
“But he was bleeding, Anita—”
“Anna, let me tell it all. A few folks had found his book he was trying to put into print under a different name, and traced it back to him. Some of his close friends were baffled by it all, but figured that they could protect him from whomever had it in their minds to attack him, but Mr. Caldwell said he knew better than that. He knew angry folks would come after him, would find him, and that’s exactly what happened. He left Mrs. Rosa’s just as quickly as he came, and now we don’t know where he is, or … or if he’s even alive, Anna.”
“How do you know all of this, Anita?” I asked, disregarding her last comment and trying to keep my head on straight.
“I was there. Mrs. Rosa doesn’t live that far from where I stay. The first night Mr. Caldwell didn’t come home, she came by, asking me to stay with her and Little Sue until Mr. Caldwell came back home, just in case he needed her and she had to leave her child. I did what I had to for the old man but stayed at Mrs. Rosa’s, thinking nothing of it. It had happened at least twice before, Mr. Caldwell not returning the night he’d promised and Mrs. Rosa calling on me to watch Little Sue. I didn’t see him, Anna, so I can’t say how bad he really was. But I could hear him fairly well.”
“And you said there are folks looking for him now?”
She nodded. “I believe Mrs. Rosa already had a plan for this. There are a few men that Mr. Caldwell knows fairly well in Hadson, and Mrs. Rosa called on them to help look. I believe your brother’s among them.”
“Where is Mrs. Rosa now?”
“Where we’re headed, the old man’s place. The lot of us agreed that, even though Mr. Caldwell told her she was in no danger, it might be safer for her and Little Sue to stay somewhere else until he’s found.”
We fell silent and didn’t mutter another word until we pulled up to the house.
“There she is,” Anita said softly, nodding toward the figure of a woman leaning against the porch rail with a small child fast asleep in her arms.
We walked up the steps and stood on either side of our tutor. She looked frozen in place as she gazed out onto the old man’s land.
“Mrs. Rosa,” I said softly, placing a hand on hers.
She took a deep breath, blew it out, and turned to me.
“Anna, I don’t know where he is. I don’t know how serious it is.” She glanced down at her palm, and I followed her eyes to see a small spot of dried blood she hadn’t washed away. The tears I saw in her eyes made my own swell. Her hand balled into a tight fist. “A bunch of angry folks found out about his work, the things he wrote in that book of his, maybe even about his blood. I know they’re after him.”
“You know exactly who it is that’s after him, Mrs. Rosa?”
She shrugged. “I know the type of men who wouldn’t like the work my husband was doing. I don’t know any names or faces, but I know the type.” She turned to Anita, then to me. “But where is he, Anita? Anna?” I looked in her eyes and saw flames. They were threatening, something I had never seen in her before.
“Mrs. Rosa, they’ll find him.” But I knew that my words would be buried under the haunting images that sat in our minds.
Anita’s house was very large and sat in solitude amid an expanse of wheatgrass that was hard to make out in the dark. I imagined that the old man hired workers to tend to the fields.
Once inside the home, we climbed the staircase to Anita’s room and sat near the window. Mrs. Rosa tucked her baby under the quilt that was spread over Anita’s bed. Anita herself sat anxiously in a rocking chair, and Mrs. Rosa sat on the bed with me, very still. The flames in her eyes had died down, and she sat looking out the window with a regal calmness as if she were gazing at her past.
She must be listening for his whispers in the wind, waiting for him to tell her that he’s safe.
I sat by Anita, who had dozed off, and tried to figure out what I could say to Mrs. Rosa. I soon arranged words of sympathy and opened my mouth to speak, but Mrs. Rosa’s soft voice broke through the air before I could.
“He didn’t come home, Anna, until earlier tonight. Came and left before I could really understand …”
“I know, Mrs. Rosa. Anita explained it all.”
“Not many folks in Dayton know who he is—that he’s a black man striving for some social change. That’s why we live like we do. That’s why he can do so many things in the town, while acting as if he were white. That’s why I stay away from making myself known to everyone. But he told you all of that already,” she said, looking at me for the first time. Her eyes were strangely clear.
“This happened before, Anna. When we first came here to live in the North, we shared the dream of helping our people. I built false dreams around him, believing that the story of broken black lives and families being torn apart was something outside my own life and experience. It wouldn’t happen to me. We were educated folks, and we thought we knew what we were doing.” She wiped away a tear.
“But they took him then, and I was jolted back into the reality of life. It scared me, Anna, seeing him beaten like he was, hearing the disbelief in his voice that he had come so close to being sold down south. So, I b
uilt new dreams, especially when Little Sue came along, and found my freedom in something else. But Anna”—she turned to me—“Caldwell is my heart. He’s foolish but brilliant. I don’t know—” Desperate knocking rang out, interrupting Mrs. Rosa. Anita woke without hesitation and swept downstairs to answer the door. A few minutes later, she rushed back in, her face drowning in anxiety. Following her was a middle-aged man who labored under the weight of Mr. Caldwell’s unconscious body, which he held in his arms. Mr. Caldwell’s left shoulder was wrapped in a bloody rag, and a large gash ran from the top of what remained of his right ear, down his neck. My body shook, but I lifted Little Sue’s sleeping body and took her out of the room, catching a glimpse of Mrs. Rosa’s face before I left. She was already at Mr. Caldwell’s side, her lips trembling and her eyes frantically examining his bruises and wounds.
I stayed with Little Sue, attempting to soothe her back to sleep when she awoke from her nightmarish dreams every now and then. When Anita came in to rock the child, I hurried to see whether Mr. Caldwell’s condition had improved.
I watched silently as Hadson’s doctor worked at Mr. Caldwell’s side. A few of the young men who had searched stayed for a little while, then left, slipping back into the night. My brother was one of the young men who stayed.
Soon Florence arrived. She offered to sit with Little Sue until the child fell asleep so that Anita and I could be with Mrs. Rosa. She sat quietly, all of her attention focused fully on the still figure lying on the bed.
Life seemed to hold its breath in the room as the doctor operated on Mr. Caldwell. The doctor occasionally asked us to dispose of bloody rags he dropped in a bucket by his feet, and we did so anxiously, trying to replace our fear with hope. Hours passed, but they felt like minutes slowly trickling by.
As the first light of dawn came through the window, Mr. Caldwell opened his eyes.
“Rose,” he called out weakly. Mrs. Rosa grabbed his hand in hers. The doctor respectfully left the room.
“I’m here, Caldwell. You’re awake again. Stay with me this time. Stay here, please. Stay with me.”
