Trueluck Summer

by Susan Gabriel

  Paris is much taller now and sits in the back seat with his knees practically in his face. When we feel courageous, we parade our friendship out in the open as a sign of peaceful protest. We always get stares. In the meantime, Vel has rejected perms and wears her hair long and straight, but she still wears pink more than any normal person should.

  “I can’t believe Dr. Martin Luther King Junior wants to meet us.” Paris has already said this about a dozen times today.

  Mr. Chambers turns to look at us in the back seat. “Dr. King is on a tight schedule,” he says. “He only has a few minutes at the airport before he eats and cleans up at Septima Clark’s home. After that he’ll speak at County Hall.”

  “Can we go to that, too?” I ask Nana Trueluck.

  “Your father thinks it might be too dangerous,” she says.

  I moan my disappointment.

  Last night I overheard Daddy and Mama talking about the numerous death threats to Dr. King and about how the entire Charleston police department has been assigned to protect him. To make matters worse, the race riots up north have escalated things and they are afraid of riots right here in Charleston.

  We pass through a police barricade, where Mr. Chambers tells an officer that we have been invited specifically by Dr. King. Then we park and go into the airport with thirty minutes to spare. With the exception of that day he ran around the rotunda in the State House carrying the rebel flag, Paris is more animated than I have ever seen him.

  Large fans move the hot air around in the terminal, and a trickle of sweat slides down my back and stops at the elastic in my bra. For a second I wish I had my old Barbie watch so I could time it. But that watch now lives in the bottom of my jewelry box with other things I have outgrown.

  No longer wearing her dark glasses and scarf, Nana Trueluck seems as excited as Paris is. Photographers are nearby, as well as a man with a news camera. The smell of floor cleaner mingles with the odor of overheated bodies.

  After what feels like forever, a plane lands, and word passes through the crowd that he has arrived. Everyone stands straighter. The atmosphere in the airport feels like the charge left over after a lightning strike. Paris’ Adams apple bobs to swallow his nervousness. Never without a book, Vel fans herself with a paperback copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. We read it in our high school English class last spring, and Vel has reread it twice since.

  “Here he comes!” Paris says, seeing over the crowd.

  Nana Trueluck squeezes my hand and whispers into my ear, “We’re watching history take place.”

  In a city filled with history, this is saying something. Chill bumps crawl up my arms in the hot airport.

  Half a dozen men travel with Dr. King and stay close by. Madison Chambers waves and they walk over. Handsome, with a wide serious face and dark eyes, Dr. King wears a black suit and tie on one of the hottest days of the year. I can only imagine his discomfort, but to my surprise, he doesn’t look miserable at all. Only serious. And determined. Like he is on a mission and nothing can stop him from doing what he needs to do. Today, what he needs to do takes place in Charleston.

  Mr. Chambers introduces Dr. King to Nana Trueluck. He shakes her hand and tells her to keep up the good work. Tears pool in her eyes. She apologizes for not doing more, and he tells her that whatever she can do is appreciated. Mr. Chambers then introduces me. Dr. King shakes my hand, too. A warm, firm shake. I am close enough to see the sweat soaked into the collar of his white shirt. When he shakes Vel’s hand, she gives some kind of weird curtsy/bow combination.

  Then he turns to Paris. “I heard about what you did at the State House,” he says. Paris’ smile is huge, and I worry that he might swoon like a southern belle from seeing his hero.

  “Thank you, sir,” he says. “Can I have your autograph?”

  From his back pocket, Paris pulls out a copy of Dr. King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. Dr. King takes a fountain pen from his jacket pocket and signs the book. The look on Paris’ face is something I will remember for the rest of my life—a combination of awe and pride.

  Someone tells Dr. King that they have to go, that people are waiting on them. He shakes our hands again and tells us to keep up the good work. We promise we will.

  He exits the airport and gets into a waiting car. As the car drives away, I think about how, for a few brief seconds, I shook hands with history.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Three Years Later

  1970

  Ida

  Six years have passed since that fateful summer of 1964. Six years since Paris pulled Trudy out of the path of a Sunbeam Bread truck and saved her life. Six years since our unlikely band of rebels took down the Confederate flag at the State House in Columbia, and the Charleston newspaper released a list of names of the local Ku Klux Klan.

  Last week the Trueluck family attended Trudy’s high-school graduation. In the fall, she will study journalism at the College of Charleston. After that she wants to work for the newspaper and report stories that inspire people to act on what they believe in. She may even write a book someday.

  Two days ago, Madison Chambers asked me to marry him. I haven’t told anyone the news. Not even Trudy. We are taking everyone out to Henry’s tonight to announce it, the same restaurant where Madison proposed.

  My happiness with Madison is a different kind of contentment than I had with Ted Senior. Part of it is that love at my age is so unexpected. After Ted Senior died, I closed the door to romance, never dreaming I’d have a love life again. But never say never, as the old saying goes.

  The telephone rings in the kitchen, and Abigail answers it. She practically coos when she announces that Madison wants to speak to me. Perhaps she is entertaining the thought of someday not having her mother-in-law living in the spare bedroom.

  Abigail now co-owns Callie’s Diner and does all her baking there, where her peach, apple, and lemon meringue pies are famous. She invested in Callie’s after Ted Junior’s literary agent in New York sold his first novel to Harper & Row. Meanwhile, my grandson Teddy, as an incoming freshman, has already been secured as a defensive tackle by the high-school football team.

  Over the phone, Madison calls me darling. Even Ted Senior never called me darling or sweetheart, like Madison often does. To Ted Senior, I was always honey. Honey this and honey that. It was sweet to be someone’s honey, and I miss him still.

  I tell Madison I am almost ready, just in need of some finishing touches.

  “I’ll pick everyone up,” he says.

  We end our call, and I go upstairs.

  Thirty minutes later I am dressed and take a look at myself in the full-length mirror. I wear a teal summer cotton dress with pearls along with my high-top sneakers. I suppose, there is still a bit of a rebel in me yet.

  After a knock, I open my bedroom door and Madison is there.

  “Oh my,” he says, with a playful sigh. “I’m in love with the most beautiful girl in the room.”

  “The only girl in the room,” I say with a short laugh.

  He closes the door and pulls me into his arms like he is Rock Hudson in Pillow Talk and I am Doris Day. We kiss. Not a peck on the lips, mind you, but a long and passionate hello, guaranteed to make an old woman’s knees a bit wobbly.

  “Ready to shock the Truelucks?” he asks.

  “As I’ll ever be,” I answer, getting my knees up under me again.

  The entire Trueluck clan gets into Madison’s car, and we head to the restaurant. After dessert, Madison clinks his butter knife against a water glass and the two of us stand, holding hands. I announce our plans to have a small wedding ceremony at Circular Church next Saturday. Followed by a honeymoon in Savannah. Then I will move into Madison’s house on Tradd Street, where we will begin our life together at seventy-six years of age. We get a standing ovation. Not only from our family—with Abigail in tears and shouting the loudest hoorays—but from the entire restaurant, including servers and cooking staff.

  I imagine we are considered brave
to get married at our age, but I am no longer willing to waste a moment. After all, I am still making my own history.

  Later that night, Trudy sits on the end of my bed. We are the night owls in the Trueluck family and have had some of our best conversations after midnight. I look at her and take a mental snapshot. My tomboy granddaughter has turned into a beautiful young woman.

  “I’ll miss you living here,” she says.

  “I’ll miss you, too,” I say. “But you’ll be in college soon, and you can always visit me at Madison’s. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

  We exchange a hug. Having these last six years together in the same house has made us close. I am her buffer from Abigail, as well as someone she can trust to love her as she is. Grandmothers are experts at unconditional love.

  “What are Vel’s plans now that she’s graduated?” I ask.

  “She’s going to USC,” Trudy says. “She wants to major in criminal justice and work at the State House someday.”

  So much has stemmed from that summer when we all came together.

  According to Trudy, Vel still carries a book everywhere she goes, in a purse slung over one arm. After becoming totally boy crazy from the seventh grade on, Vel gave up Nancy Drew for romance novels. In the last year she has had a steady boyfriend named Mel, short for Melvin. Even though he hasn’t asked her yet, she constantly plans every detail of their wedding. From the pink wedding gown, right down to Mel and Vel printed on their reception napkins. Trudy and I both roll our eyes at that one.

  “Has Paris found a place to live yet?” I ask. With Madison’s help, Paris was accepted to an acting school in New York City.

  “He’ll live with an aunt and uncle in Harlem at first,” she says. “Then he and Hoot may get an apartment. Hoot has applied to three schools up there.”

  Hoot Mackelhaney’s transformation is perhaps the most dramatic of any of us. Within a month of the newspaper releasing the Ku Klux Klan names from an anonymous source, Hoot’s uncle figured out that he must have been involved. When Hoot confessed, every single member of his family disowned him. Since he had nowhere to stay, Miss Josie offered to let him live at her house. As a result, Paris’ Uncle Freddie helped Hoot get back in school, and he recently graduated with honors. He outgrew his acne and plans to become a lawyer who represents Civil Rights cases. He and Trudy have become great friends, as have Miss Josie and I.

  Looking back, the summer of 1964 turned out to be a pivotal time in my life. Everything changed after that—my small world got bigger. In some ways it seems like my life started over that summer. It was the summer I found my voice and learned to be bold.

  Who knows what the history books will say about this time and this place. For many in our country it was a time of heartbreak. For others, it was a time of great change. It strikes me that life is full of mystery. In the midst of the darkest and most tumultuous times, laughter can light the way to new beginnings and love can exist in profound proportions.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading!

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed Trueluck Summer. I worked on this book on and off for over a decade. At first, this story was only from the children’s point of view and never quite seemed to work. Something was missing. And so it sat, year after year, while I wrote other books.

  Then, in June of 2015, a young white man opened fire during a prayer meeting in a historic black church in Charleston, South Carolina, killing nine people. As someone who lived in Charleston with my daughters for fourteen years, this was heartbreaking news. Then a month later, after 54 years, the confederate flag flying over the State House in Columbia was finally taken down. A decade before, I had imagined Paris Moses—with the help of Trudy and Vel—bringing about a similar change.

  And so, in July of 2015, I pulled this story out of its retirement with the intention of breathing new life into it. It was then that I discovered Ida Trueluck. It was as if she had been waiting all these years for me to finally notice she was there. The story needed a grandmother. Someone who had witnessed the changing times and finally had the courage to act on what she believed in. The decision to have Ida share the storytelling with Trudy made perfect sense to me. Together they would tell a sort of coming-of-age tale. Ida coming into her old age with a new boldness, and Trudy coming into the beginnings of adulthood with her own bold passion. Finally, the story felt complete.

  Thank you so much for reading. It has been an honor to share Trueluck Summer with you. You are the reason I write, so feel free to be in touch with me. Tell me what you liked, what you loved, even what you wish I’d done differently.

  You can contact me via email at susan@susangabriel.com, on my website SusanGabriel.com or on facebook at SusanGabrielAuthor.

  Finally, I need to ask a favor. If you are so inclined, please consider leaving a review at Amazon, Nook, iBooks, Goodreads, etc. Reviews help readers who aren’t familiar with an author take a chance on their work. A review doesn’t have to be long; it can be one or two heartfelt sentences. You can tell potential readers what you liked most about the book and what interested and surprised you.

  In gratitude,

  Susan Gabriel

  P.S. I’m now working on Book Three of the Wildflower series (Books One and Two—The Secret Sense of Wildflower and Lily’s Song—are already out). I will also be writing a sequel to my comic novel, Temple Secrets. If you would like to be notified about these and other future books, please sign up for my newsletter at www.susangabriel.com/new-books/.

  P.S.

  About the Author

  Trivia from 1964

  Other Books by Susan Gabriel

  About the Author

  Susan Gabriel is an acclaimed writer who lives in the mountains of North Carolina. Her novel, The Secret Sense of Wildflower, earned a starred review (“for books of remarkable merit”) from Kirkus Reviews and was selected as one of their Best Books of 2012.

  She is also the author of Temple Secrets, Lily’s Song, Grace, Grits and Ghosts: Southern Short Stories and other novels. Discover more about Susan at SusanGabriel.com.

  Trivia from 1964

  Average Income per year: $6,000.00

  Gas per Gallon: 30 cents

  Average Cost of a new car: $3,500.00

  Loaf of Sunbeam Bread: 21 cents

  United States Postage Stamp: 5 cents

  Average Monthly Rent: $115.00

  Ticket to the movies: $1.25

  From American Experience on PBS.org regarding 1964:

  Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique is released as a paperback, with its first printing selling 1.4 million copies. Friedan’s book ushers in a transformative feminist movement as housewives across America come to identify with the “problem that has no name” and acknowledge dissatisfaction with their domestic roles.

  G.I. Joe makes his debut as an “action figure” toy in response to the popularity of Barbie dolls.

  The Beatles perform “Till There Was You” live on The Ed Sullivan Show to an audience full of screaming teenagers and a record-breaking 73 million television viewers. Though the group had been rapidly gaining popularity in America since the December 1963 release of “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” their Ed Sullivan appearance confirms that Beatlemania is sweeping the country.

  In a surprise upset, Olympic gold medalist Cassius Clay beats Sonny Liston in Miami Beach, Florida, and is crowned heavyweight champion of the world. Just one day later, he announces that he has joined the Nation of Islam and is changing his name. For the remainder of the decade, Muhammad Ali becomes known outside the boxing ring for his socio-political beliefs—specifically on racial equality and the Vietnam War.

  In the United States’ first-ever televised trial verdict, Jack Ruby is found guilty of murder and sentenced to death for fatally shooting Lee Harvey Oswald, the alleged assassin of President John F. Kennedy.

  The largest earthquake in U.S. history hits Alaska, registering a magnitude of 9.2.

  Jeopardy! premieres on NBC
.

  At the 36th Annual Academy Awards ceremony, Sidney Poitier becomes the first black man to win a Best Actor Oscar for his role in “Lilies of the Field.”

  In June, the first group of Freedom Summer volunteers gather for training in Oxford, Ohio. Of the nearly 1,000 participants working to educate and register African Americans to vote in Mississippi and across the South, the majority are white college students from the North.

  A day after the first group of Freedom Summer volunteers arrives in Mississippi, three civil rights workers set out to investigate a church bombing near Philadelphia, Mississippi. The three activists are arrested for a traffic violation and held for several hours. When they are released at 10:30pm, it is the last time they are seen alive.

  In July, President Johnson signs the Civil Rights Act of 1964 into law. The act prohibits discrimination on the basis of race, color, religion, sex or national origin in employment, ends segregation in public places. It outlaws segregation practices common in many southern businesses for decades.

  The Beach Boys’ “I Get Around” begins a two-week stint at the top of the charts.

  In September, Bewitched premiers on ABC. The popular sitcom about a witch and her mortal husband subtly reflects changes to traditional domestic roles, as the leading woman, Samantha, has significantly more power than her non-magical husband, Darrin.