by Carter, Noni
I looked up in the doorway to see my brother and Florence grinning. “My birthday?”
“You said you was born when the flowers started bloomin’—I figured this was a mighty fine day for that to be,” Daniel said with a shrug.
“C’mon with us,” the two of them said. I followed them out the door, and twenty pairs of feet followed in my footsteps.
“Hey!” Daniel called out as we neared the church. “Our schoolteacher’s a year older!” It was clear that some of the townsfolk had gathered for some festivities after a church gathering. The people in the churchyard gradually ceased their talking and called out cheers instead. I laughed and thanked the crowd, stepping toward Daniel to whisper how unnecessary I thought all of that was.
“Unnecessary, maybe, but you sho’ deserve it,” he said as everyone trickled back into their own affairs. The children had spread about among the people, having lost interest in the morning surprise.
“Well, I thank you, anyway. You sure deserve that much,” I said, hugging my brother.
“I’ve already gotten what I deserve,” he said, pulling Florence close to him. Florence smiled like a child.
I had planned to spend the day at Mrs. Rosa’s, but I found her immersed in the activities here at Hadson’s church. I, too, melted into the activities in the churchyard. I talked, wandered about, and watched the children play games. I listened to the music and admired the dancing that had naturally sprung up. I sat down with Mrs. Rosa beneath the canopy of a tree, watching Little Sue play with the other children.
Here I was, learning to live with the part of me I had left. Here I was, consumed in the love this family had to offer me. Here I was watching the two people closest to me: Daniel and Florence. Here I was, confined within my contented solitude.
A tap on my shoulder interrupted my thoughts.
“Anna, hey! Congratulations about this day.” Henry addressed me, all smiles.
I hadn’t seen Henry for months and hadn’t talked to him for perhaps just as long. Florence had told me he was again, spending significant time with another lady. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Rosa inch away from us.
“Also came over to say I’m sorry,” Henry continued.
Why is he sorry? Shouldn’t I be the one apologizing?
“Heard about your friend, Anna.”
“You did?” I asked him, a bit concerned that folks knew I had known a man from a plantation in the South.
“Ya, heard someone you really cared for died—that’s what I heard.” I nodded up at Henry, glad that he’d heard nothing about John having been a runaway.
“Well, I thank you for that, Henry.”
“Are you … you doin’ all right?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, “I think this part of me is doing real well.”
He kneeled by me in silence as I began to pour out what had been on my mind for too long.
“Henry, I know this was a long time ago and all, but I have to apologize to you for responding like I did back at that dance—”
“Naw, Anna, don’t apologize. There’s no need to. I … I guess I can understand now.” He sighed, then looked into my eyes. He really did have a genuine spirit. All the uneasiness I felt before was gone.
“I should’ve done something different, that’s all,” he said, holding my gaze.
“No, Henry, it wasn’t you,” I explained, shaking my head.
“Yes, it was me, Anna. I should’ve … I thought … if I had …” He stopped and awoke from his reverie. “But, anyway, that was then, and you were right, it was a while ago. Don’t want you feelin’ bad, Anna. You see Hattie-Mae over there?” I looked over to where he nodded and recognized Hattie-Mae. She stood talking with a drink in her hand and was obviously pregnant.
“That’s Hattie-Mae Johnson now. She’s my wife.”
I smiled at Henry, wondering how I’d missed word of the marriage. I felt a subtle sadness creep up on me, and I had to scold myself for allowing it to.
“That’s great, Henry. Seems like you’ve already started that family you wanted.”
He nodded. “One more thing before we leave,” he said, standing up and reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a gift. It was a flower—small, simple, and beautiful.
“Here, happy birthday. It was the best I could do when I was tryin’ to find something to represent … well, to represent the person you are, guess I could say.” He lowered his voice a bit and bent forward, looking at his feet first, then into my eyes. “You a good person, Anna, an’ always gonna be special in here.” He patted his chest. “You a friend, or whateva you wanna call it.”
He brushed grass off his pants and remarked with a chuckle, “Look, that flower matches your dress.”
I took the flower and placed it in my hair.
“Oh, an’ you teachin’ is such a big thing in Hadson. Proud you done that for the community. Maybe you can teach our child too.”
“Of course, Henry, thank you,” I said as he retreated. I felt relieved, more so than I thought I’d feel after talking to Henry. Both of our burdens seemed to have been lifted.
“I have a gift for you, Anna,” Anita said to me as we finished up teaching for the day, a few days after my birthday celebration. She looked at me with her characteristic solemnness.
“From you?” I asked Anita, surprised.
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I said that wrong. It’s not from me. I wish I could give something this significant, but it’s a gift from the old man.”
“How is he?”
She shrugged. “He’s pretty bad off. I don’t think he’ll be around much longer.”
“What is it that he wanted to give me?” I asked her.
“Don’t get too excited—”
“Anita, tell me!” I shouted.
She chuckled without smiling. “He wants to build that school of yours. He said it would be good for the community. What do you think?”
I stared at Anita with wide eyes. “He’s building us a school?”
“Sure is,” Anita said. “He’s hiring out a few young men around Hadson to build it. He wants you to select a good plot of land, and he’ll have the school built.”
I walked closer to her, not quite believing what I was hearing. She stood with her hand on her hips, waiting for my questions.
“Anita, I’ve never even met Old Joshua.”
She responded, “That’s right, but I told you, he’s the reason I’ve been with Mrs. Rosa all these years. He’s been stuck on the idea of education the whole time I’ve known him. When he heard what I told him about you, and how I came out to teach a few days a week, he wanted to give what he could before he dies. He’ll take care of the building, the desks, and even the outhouse for the girls and the boys. Whatever else is needed, like books and such, that’s something you—or we—have to take care of.”
I shook my head in wonder.
“But the money for the supplies is no problem. We get the money from the church, sometimes, and I don’t think charging the children who have parents 25 cents a month is a bad idea,” Anita said.
“Is he really talking the truth, Anita?” I asked her, excitement traveling up and down my spine.
“Sure,” she said simply.
“Please tell him how grateful I am!” I said to her.
Anita nodded. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” she said, turning to walk away.
“Oh, Anita!” I said, calling her back after I had shaken away some of the shock.
“What if … what if older folks want to start learning?”
“Then we’ll figure that out.”
“I can’t believe this!” I said with a large smile.
She turned back around quickly, but not before I saw the corners of her mouth curl up in a small smile.
CHAPTER
49
“HEY, ANNA,” MRS. ROSA SAID, ANSWERING THE DOOR WITH A tired smile.
“Hi, Mrs. Rosa. I know it’s a bit early, but I—” The door came
open wider.
“Don’t explain to me, Anna. I’d let you in here even in the early hours of the morning—you know that. I’m up, the baby’s awake. We haven’t seen you in a while, and Little Sue’s been asking about you.”
I stepped into the house behind Mrs. Rosa. I had errands Mama Bessie needed me to run, but I had news for Mrs. Rosa and wanted to share it all before I began my day.
Mrs. Rosa returned to her desk and to the plate of food that sat there. I saw Little Sue tumbling around on the floor, amusing herself. I laughed at the spectacle.
“Auntie numba two!” the little girl said, running over to me and throwing her arms around my legs. I twirled her around, then let her continue playing.
“Mrs. Rosa, I wanted to tell you about the school building that’s being built, but I’m sure Anita’s already shared that.”
Mrs. Rosa nodded.
“Have you gone by to see the plot of land? They haven’t done much with it, but oh, I feel so good inside, like … like I know for sure this is the right thing to do for Hadson!”
Mrs. Rosa returned my smile. “I haven’t seen it yet, Anna, but I will. And I can’t tell you how proud I am of you—you and Anita. I know if Caldwell were here, he’d feel the same. Actually, speaking of your school, and of Caldwell, I have something for you.” She hopped up and left the room. When she came back, she was grasping something.
“He didn’t make it to give this to you, but he wanted you to have it.” She held out a glass jar filled with coins.
“Mrs. Rosa, I can’t take this. You need it!” I said, without moving to take it.
“No. We have what we need, Anna, all we need. Caldwell started saving this for the school. You should have seen the man when I told him of your idea. He talked of what you’ve done for this community with a pride he hardly even attached to his own work. So use it for the school.”
I shook my head.
“Mrs. Rosa, this school has already received so many blessings. I don’t need this to keep it moving forward! You keep it, if not for yourself, then as my gift to Little Sue.”
Mrs. Rosa smiled at me and shook her head. “You know, you’ve grown so much in such a short time.”
“Well, thank you, Mrs. Rosa.”
“It’s the truth. But please”—she extended the jar toward me—“accept Caldwell’s gift. He left us with money, Anna—he knew he had to.” I took it from her, and let it rest in the crook of my arm.
“How did you earn your money before, Mrs. Rosa?”
She sat back down.
“You were paid for tutoring?” I asked, perplexed.
“Of course I was! That was my job.”
“But I didn’t pay you anything.”
Her smile was broad and warm. A sight I hadn’t seen in a long time.
“You were different. You paid me with your will to learn and your success. Peggy’s folks paid, and the old man took care of Anita. I believe they’re related some way, but I’ve never found out her story. Perhaps if someone hadn’t pushed either of those girls to get educated, they would not have.”
“What about Peggy?” I asked.
“When I stopped for a while, her mother put her in the school in Dayton—the same one Caldwell told me he first saw you at. After that, she didn’t want to come back.”
“Well, Mrs. Rosa, I actually came here to ask you something about working. You think, maybe, you’d enjoy teaching? Anita and I spoke about it. We thought, with Mr. Caldwell not being here and all, you might enjoy sitting in a classroom with plenty of students.” Mrs. Rosa averted her eyes at the mention of her husband.
“You’d like me to teach?”
I nodded. Her hands, which had been busy, now sat motionless before her.
“But you don’t need me, do you?”
“Word has spread about the school, Mrs. Rosa, especially with the building being under way and all. I have almost every child in town coming to learn. Not only that, but the church funds dedicated to this school are split so that Anita and I receive a certain portion of that money. And some parents sacrifice some of their hard-earned money every month to pay me for doing this. But now, see, some of the grown folks in Hadson want to learn, and they offered to pay me, but I can’t do all of that on my own, Mrs. Rosa. I wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind coming to teach them.”
Mrs. Rosa absorbed my request before stepping over to me and throwing her arms around my neck. Little Sue laughed with delight, seeing her mother’s sudden excitement.
“Anna, Anna! This is perfect!” She, too, laughed. “My heart has always been in teaching, tutoring. But without Caldwell as my connection to the world, it seemed unlikely that I could continue. I thought I would have to work in a house in the city to provide us with income. Anna, you don’t know what this means to me. Thank you!”
I let my thoughts drift into their own patterns. The tension that I had felt locked up in my chest for weeks had been alleviated.
Walking back down the road that morning, I thought about how there seemed to be a place for Mrs. Rosa in my heart right next to Mathee and Mary. I thought of my brother and of Florence, who would lay down their lives for me. That was love: There was a freedom in that.
I let the tears fall as I thought of Mr. Caldwell and John, who died for causes they believed in. That was determination against all odds: There was freedom in that.
I held my hands to the sky, remembering that, a few short years ago, I couldn’t even pick up a pen to write the letter a. That was education: There was freedom in that.
And my feet, they carried me where I wanted to go, bound to no chains of bondage: There was freedom in that.
I smiled to the skies as I made my way back home, thanking God.
That moment gave me peace inside my soul: In that, too, there was freedom.
CHAPTER
50
THE OLD MAN DIED BEFORE HE COULD SEE THE FINISHED PRODUCT of his investment. It took a little longer than expected to actually purchase the land and, then, to actually build the school. But by the middle of July, the stacked wood and cleared land had been transformed into a small but beautiful school building. God was answering my prayers.
One afternoon, walking back to the house from the place in the yard where school had been held, I stopped when I saw a figure sitting on a bench. It was Daniel.
I collapsed next to him, tired from the day’s work.
“The school’s done,” I said to him, wiping away the raindrops that fell on my eyelids.
“Sho’ is. Lookin’ nice, too.”
I turned toward him.
“What’s wrong, Daniel? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ brother, I know you better than that.”
“It’s ’bout time fo’ me to get married,” he said simply, but I could tell he wanted to hear what I had to say.
“I think that time was a few months ago.”
His mouth laughed, but the rest of him didn’t. “Ya,” he said, nodding. “Woulda married her a long time ago, but she tell me, ‘wait till September.’”
I laughed. “What’s so special about September that makes it any different from March or May?”
He shrugged, then grinned. “She’s jus’ like that. You know her!”
“Sure I do.” I smiled back.
“It’s a different thing, Anna, likin’ somebody like that. Things I used to think an’ say, I don’t really think an’ say no more. Lots a things I wouldn’t do fo’ no one ’cept you an’ Mama, now it’s the same wit her. An’ it’s a different kinda feelin’.”
I felt starved for that feeling, too. But this was not my time to talk, it was his.
“Then you gets to thinkin’ ’bout a family, an’ makin’ money to buy Flo things she needs, an’ then …” He laughed at himself. “Then you gets to thinkin’ ’bout how a chile gonna come round. You think ’bout him growin’ inside, an’ bein’ born, an’ him bein’ set in your hands fo’ the first time. You look down at a little face, thinkin’ you starin’ at your own self in a mirror
! Changes you, Anna. Cain’t think like I used to. Gonna be callin’ myself a husband fo’ my Flo, an’ gonna be a pappy fo’ a little boy or girl gonna grow up an’ ask, ‘Auntie Anna, my daddy, was he a bad chile when he was my age?’”
I laughed with my brother, but then settled into seriousness.
“And then it gots me thinkin’ ’bout my pappy, what he was like, how he treat womenfolk, if he felt like I did when he seen Mama. Got me thinkin’, what would he be like if he was still livin’? What would he say to my children? What would he say to me? You think he be proud’ve me, the man I am?” Daniel asked me solemnly.
“Of course he would, Daniel. Of course.”
He sighed and stared at the mud running between our feet. After a while, he took his shirt, which lay across his lap, and threw it in my face. I laughed, pulled it away, and hit him with it. We could’ve been little children again, running around barefoot back on the plantation in Tennessee.
“It’s for the rain,” he said.
“Well, then, don’t throw it in my face like that!” I laughed some more, and held his shirt over my head as he continued.
“Then, Anna, I think about you.”
“Me? For what, Daniel?”
He glanced at me quickly, then away again. “Jus’ a little worried ’bout you, that’s all.” I would have laughed at his comment, but his face was stonelike.
“Worried? Daniel—”
“I can hear you, Anna, sayin’ ‘I’ll be fine.’ An’ I know you will.”
“So, what you so worried about?”
“Anna, same’s you know me like nobody else do, I know you jus’ like that, too. I can tell something’s wrong deep down, an’ I know what it is too. It’s that way you carry yo’self when a male is wit you that makes me understand what it is.”
“And so, what is it?” I asked him, interested to know.
“It’s John. Don’t know if he’s still in your thoughts. Think you always keep him in your prayers. But I know, with no doubt, he’s still rushin’ through your blood.” I listened to the rain and knew that what Daniel was saying to me was true. The thoughts of John weren’t so painful anymore, but somewhere, there was that longing, still burning, that I never had the heart to let go of. Daniel saw straight past everything else and right to that place inside me.
