The Seeker

by Ann H. Gabhart

  After the meal was over, they once again knelt in silent prayer before filing out of the biting room to retire to their rooms for a time of rest and meditation.

  Sister Altha stopped Charlotte in the hallway. “Are you unwell, Sister Charlotte?” There was no hint of sympathy in her voice.

  “Nay,” Charlotte answered.

  “You did not eat.”

  “I felt no appetite.”

  “A Believer must take care of her body in order to maintain proper health and strength for her duties.”

  “Yea, so you have told me. I will eat tomorrow.” Charlotte said the words she thought Sister Altha wished to hear. She just wanted the woman to go away so she could return to her dark box and shut away all thought.

  But Sister Altha was not satisfied with Charlotte’s answer. “Is there some wrong you have need to confess? Sin can fester in one’s soul and lead to blackness of the mind. But with proper confession, Mother Ann can bring your spirit back into harmony.”

  “Yea, so you have told me.”

  Sister Altha stood unmoving in front of her waiting for Charlotte to say more. When Charlotte didn’t speak, Sister Altha’s face tightened with disapproval before she said, “I fear, my sister, that you seek the blackness of sin and that your presence here is nothing but a farce.”

  “Nay, Sister Altha. I want to learn the Shaker way.” What other choice did she have now? She had no place to go. She would become Sister Charlotte. She would learn to dance in worship. She would work with her hands. She would never again stand and let a servant dress her in a ball gown she could not button or unbutton. That Charlotte was gone, lost to her own foolishness.

  That didn’t mean she would never see Grayson again. She would. Somehow. Some way. But until she figured out that new way, she’d bide her time here among these strange people where, as Selena had written, she would be safe and well fed. The war that was threatening the country seemed far removed from this place where peace was sought by all true Believers. And sometimes found. Edwin claimed to have found it. Gemma wore it like a crown of light. Eldress Sadie preached it. Sister Martha knew it. Sister Altha demanded it.

  Peace. If it was all around her, then surely some of it would wear off on her no matter what else was happening at Grayson or in the country. She had told Adam Wade she was going to do the unexpected. But she had not expected the road she chose to be so full of crooks and turns that even she had not foreseen.

  She remembered Mellie’s words as they rode into the village a few weeks earlier. How she’d said they were being swallowed by a whale just as Jonah had been in the Bible story. The village seemed that different and strange. But the three days in the belly of Jonah’s whale was long past, and here she remained with no hope of being spit out for a second chance for many more days.

  All she could do was bend her spirit, wipe away her thoughts, and search for the right words to pray when she knelt in obedience to the Shaker rules. They did not order her to silently pray any special words. The prayer was to be from her heart. Perhaps she could discover the proper words to convince the Lord to let her be spit out of the belly of the whale the same as Jonah was once he prayed with a reformed heart.

  Mellie. At least that was one thing that had gone right with her plan. Mellie was as safe and well fed as she was.

  Charlotte was glad when Sister Altha ceased speaking and left her alone in the hallway. She was relieved when Gemma didn’t think it necessary to accompany her to the outhouse. She welcomed the cool dark air that made her feel even more invisible. She wanted to walk into the shadows and dwell there for a while. Perhaps forever.

  “Miss Lottie.” The whisper came from the corner of the building. “Over here, Miss Lottie.”

  Charlotte moved toward the sound of Mellie’s voice, but couldn’t see her. A hand reached out and pulled her to the side of the building. Even with Mellie directly in front of her, Charlotte could barely make out her shape in the darkness. Her cap was gone, along with the large white collar and apron from her dress, and her black face melted into the night.

  Mellie snatched off Charlotte’s cap and turned her toward the building. “Here,” she said as she handed the cap to Charlotte. “We won’t be as easy to spot with the white hidden.”

  “What are you doing, Mellie?”

  “Same as you. I told them I had to relieve myself, and then I hid out here hopin’ and prayin’ you’d come along without your guard before they come huntin’ for me. I prayed strong as I could, and praises be, he give me the answer I wanted. The one I had to have. Thank the good Lord above.” She kept her voice low, just above a whisper. “That’s one thing these Shaker folks has got right. All the prayin’ time. But they done messed up on a bunch of other things.”

  Charlotte grabbed Mellie’s shoulders. “Slow down and tell me what’s going on.”

  “I guess I better. They liable to show up after us any minute and there is a lot to tell.” She rushed out the words. “Has he come for you?”

  “Who?” The black sadness filled her heart. “Not Father. He . . .” She hesitated and then pushed the words out around the lump that wanted to form in her throat. She hadn’t cried when she read the letter or since, but now with Mellie there beside her, the tears wanted to break free. “He says I’m no longer his daughter.”

  “Who says? Massah Charles?” Mellie’s voice carried disbelief. “That can’t be right.”

  “I got a letter.”

  “Well, that woman must’ve made him write it. She got your daddy under some kind of devil spell.”

  “I’ve not only lost Father to her, Mellie. I’ve lost Grayson.” Charlotte choked back a sob.

  “You’ll figure somethin’ out, Miss Lottie. Don’t you always.” Mellie put her arms around her and pulled her close. “Didn’t you figure out a way to keep that woman from sellin’ me down the river? And that wasn’t no easy thing.”

  “I’m glad I did that much right.” This time Charlotte couldn’t hold the sob in.

  Mellie leaned back from her and shook her a little. “Now don’t you go cryin’ on me or I’ll never get what needs sayin’ said.”

  Charlotte swallowed hard and peered at Mellie’s face, but her expression was hidden in the shadowy darkness. “All right. What needs saying?”

  Mellie didn’t speak right away, as if now that she had the chance to talk, she didn’t know which words to say. Charlotte didn’t think her heart could grow any heavier, but she was wrong. Even before Mellie spoke the words, Charlotte knew what they were going to be.

  “I don’t know if I ought to tell you this or not, but I’s always trusted you, Miss Lottie. Nate’s runnin’ away. Goin’ north.” Again she hesitated before she pushed out the rest of her words. “I’m goin’ with him, Miss Lottie.”

  “No, you can’t do that. It won’t be safe. He might get caught, and if he gets caught and you’re with him, then no telling what might happen.” Charlotte grabbed Mellie’s arms and held onto her as though she’d never let go.

  Mellie didn’t try to pull away. “I has to, Miss Lottie. I love him.” Her voice sounded sad, excited, and frightened all at the same time.

  Charlotte loosened her hold and pulled in a deep breath. She didn’t know what to say.

  Mellie put her hands over Charlotte’s and pulled them away from her arms. She held her hands softly as she went on. “I loves you too, Miss Lottie. You knows I do. And Mammy. Can’t nobody love their mother more than I love Mammy, but we’s already apart. Her there cookin’ for Massah Charles ’til you figure out a way to get her free. And me here.” She squeezed Charlotte’s hands a little before she turned them loose. “I don’t know as how I can explain, but this way I feel for Nate, it’s different love. I has to go with him. Even if I die, I has to ’cause I’ll die in my heart if I don’t.”

  “Wait and get the Shakers to take you across the river. They take trips to their other villages in the north. Tell them you want to live at one of them.” Charlotte’s mind was racing, trying to
think of a better way. “Then you can run away from there to meet up with Nate.”

  “You always has good plans, but I’s already decided. The’ ain’t no turnin’ back. I’m goin’ tonight. Now. I got my papers.” She touched her bosom and Charlotte heard a rustle of paper. “They give them to me to keep. So I’d feel free, they said. I want to feel free, Miss Lottie. Really free and not just stuck here with these folks who has a funny idea of free with all their rules and watchin’ eyes. You don’t really want to be here either, do you?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t go home. So where else could I go?” Charlotte said.

  “What about him? Has he come for you?”

  “Has who come for me? What in the world are you talking about?” Charlotte frowned at her.

  “That artist gentleman.”

  “Adam Wade?” Charlotte stared at Mellie with disbelief. She couldn’t really be meaning that Adam was there at Harmony Hill.

  “Right. The artist man. He was on the path when me and Sister Cora come back from the washhouse after our workin’ time.”

  “Are you sure?” Charlotte asked with doubt in her voice even as she was remembering Gemma’s chatter about somebody drawing the spiral staircases in the visitors’ house. She hadn’t paid attention to the words then. She was too busy shutting everything out, but now they echoed in her brain. She’d said the man from the world had even drawn her likeness.

  “Sure as night follows day. We passed right by him. But Sister Cora, she wouldn’t let me say nothin’ to him. More of them rules.”

  “Did he know you?”

  “He didn’t act like it. It was goin’ on dark and me with the Shaker garb on. Well, it ain’t no wonder he didn’t know me. He only talked to me that one time at the party anyhow. It was Mammy he drew the picture of. She liked that.”

  “He drew my picture too.” Charlotte thought of the drawing hidden behind the drawer in the chest. But the face on that paper was the old Charlotte. The lost Charlotte. Not this woebegone Sister Charlotte who followed after the other sisters like a blind sheep and bent her will to theirs.

  “He done more than that.” Mellie leaned her head over very close to Charlotte’s face until Charlotte could see her eyes gleaming in the early darkness. “Remember I saw you in the garden ’fore he left, and I already tol’ you a man kisses a woman like that he aims to be back.”

  “He can’t be here for me. How would he even know I’m here?” Charlotte tried to ignore the way hope fluttered awake in her heart just at Mellie’s crazy imagining that Adam Wade had come for her.

  “Somebody coulda tol’ him. Maybe your papa.”

  “Father wouldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t tell anybody. Me being here is not only an embarrassment to him, the general knowledge of it might cost him votes. Think how the opposing party could use it against him. The senator’s daughter running away from home. Dancing like a heathen in church.”

  “Not like heathens. Leastways most of the time. Most times they could be right at Grayson dancin’ in the big room,” Mellie said.

  “But not for the same reason.”

  “For sure. It ain’t to catch a man.” Mellie blew a snort of air out her nose. Silence stretched between them for a moment before she went on. “You can go home, Miss Lottie. The Massah, he won’t stay mad at you once he sees you face-to-face. He’ll be like that daddy in the Bible what runs to meet his wayward boy.” Mellie’s voice was soft, urging.

  “There wasn’t a stepmother in that story,” Charlotte said.

  “You’s right there,” Mellie agreed, but then her voice softened again. “But he’s loved you longer than he has her.”

  Charlotte stared down at the ground as she said, “I can’t go home. At least not yet. I’m not starving. There’s no need for me to look at the pig food with hungry eyes like the prodigal son in that story. There’s plenty of food here. I am safe and well fed.” Charlotte’s ending words were flat, without feeling.

  “Then if you don’t want to go home, go find that artist feller. He’s got to be still here. It was nigh dark when I saw him.”

  “No.” The word came out sharp and clipped.

  “I’s hearin’ a lot in that no, Miss Lottie. I know you good as I knows myself. Maybe better. You in love with that man.”

  Charlotte didn’t have to be able to see Mellie’s face to know how she was staring at her with narrowed eyes, seeing straight through her even in the darkness. She didn’t try to argue with Mellie. Not now. Not when her heart was already too bruised to think about love. Instead she grabbed Mellie’s wrist. “You can’t tell him I’m here.”

  “You’s right there. I can’t tell him nothin’. Remember. I’m leavin’ with Nate. Soon’s we get through huggin’ and cryin’ our goodbyes.” Mellie put her other hand gently over Charlotte’s. “You’s the one that needs to tell him. You’s the one he’s come for.”

  “He’s not here for me. He’s here for his work. To draw the Shakers.” She said the words as firmly as she could, not for Mellie, but to keep hope from spreading its wings and trying to take flight in her own heart. Adam Wade had no plans that included Charlotte. No one did. Not even Mellie.

  “Then ask that sour old Sister Altha to let him draw you.” There was a smile in Mellie’s voice. “That ought to get things rollin’ in the right direction.”

  “Oh, Mellie, I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” Charlotte pulled her close and breathed in the familiar scent of her hair and skin. “I’m so afraid for you.”

  “Don’t you be scared for me. You done give me a chance. You give me my papers. They say up north a black face don’t have to be turned down to the ground all the time. That a person like me can be hired out and collect her own pay. Nate and me, we’ll be all right. The Union army ain’t signin’ Negroes up to fight, but they’s usin’ them to build bridges and roads. He hears tell that them Yankees ain’t all that worried about whether a man has papers. Not so long as he has a strong back.”

  “I’ll pray for you,” Charlotte said and she meant it. She’d have a purpose now when she knelt to pray as the Shakers demanded. She reluctantly stepped back from Mellie.

  “And me for you.” Then in the darkness Charlotte saw Mellie’s teeth shine as her smile spread across her face. “That you and that artist gentlemen will meet up in some more gardens. Maybe he’ll ask you home to walk in his garden.”

  “I don’t think he even has a home.”

  “You don’t have to have walls and a roof, Miss Lottie. Where the most of your heart is, that’s where home can be.” Mellie touched Charlotte’s cheek. “Mine’s with Nate, but I’ll be leavin’ a chunk of it here with you.” She pulled her hand away as she turned to go. She stopped before she went two steps and turned back. With tears in her voice, she said, “When you go home to Grayson and see Mammy agin, you tell her I’m takin’ her love ever’ bit with me.”

  And then she was gone. Melting away in the darkness. Charlotte stood very still staring after her. She could just make out Mellie, and then another figure rose up out of the grass and joined her before the two disappeared into the trees beyond the village houses. Charlotte watched the spot for a long time before she finally looked up at the dark sky and was glad for the clouds that covered the stars and moon. “Keep it dark, dear Lord, and lead her steps safely over the river.”

  No prayer had ever risen more sincerely from her heart. She stepped back up on the pathway and positioned her cap over her hair. She would not think about her father or Grayson. She would not think about Adam Wade somewhere in the village. He had not come to Harmony Hill seeking her. If he saw her in the Shaker dress, he would laugh at her foolishness. It was all a game with Adam. A game he had won with the kiss he had stolen from her before he left. He would have no interest in playing another round. She could not let him see her here.

  She mashed her lips together tightly so that she wouldn’t recall the softness of his lips on hers. She would not allow her mind to run after him. She would not allow her hea
rt to yearn for his touch. Mellie was wrong. She wasn’t in love with him. It had been a game to her too. A silly game she had no chance of winning any more than she’d had any chance of pulling Edwin away from the Shakers. She had gravely underestimated Edwin’s need for spiritual peace and order in his life.

  And now she would continue down the path she had chosen perhaps without proper thought, but even so her feet were upon it. If she was going to forget about Charlotte Mayda Vance and become simply Sister Charlotte seeking the gifts of simplicity and peaceful harmony, then she would do it the best she could. She would dwell on obedience and prayer the way Sister Altha told her to. She would learn to work. She would let more sincere prayers rise from her soul. And she would be safe and well fed.

  The next morning, she filed out of her room with all the other sisters when the village bell rang to summon them to meeting. She didn’t sing loudly, but she did add her voice to the gathering song. She went into the meetinghouse determined to be a proper novitiate. She had not expected to see Adam Wade on a bench just inside the door. He had his sketchbook open, drawing feverishly. She turned her head away before he could look up and see her face.

  The Shaker mother must have taken pity on her at that moment and moved Sister Martha up beside her instead of Sister Altha. She took hold of Sister Martha’s arm and whispered, “I feel sick, Sister Martha. I fear I might lose my breakfast. Please may I return to my room?”

  “My dear sister, you are pale as a sheet.” Sister Martha’s wrinkled face looked concerned. “Lean on me and I will take you across to the infirmary.”