“Why don’t we, then?” I said.
“Why don’t we what?” said Katie.
“Ask God what He’s like. We prayed that other time in the house, when we were reading the Bible and asked Him to come live in us. And then I prayed that He’d show me what to do about staying. So it seems like when we pray, He answers, doesn’t it?”
“It seems like it,” said Katie.
“So why don’t we ask Him this?”
“Okay,” said Katie. “I guess if He wants to live in our hearts and answer our prayers, then He’d want us to know what He’s like.”
“I reckon He would at that,” I said.
“God, please show us what you’re like,” said Katie without even a pause. We kept walking, and she just prayed so natural, with her eyes still open. I was always surprised at how natural she was with God, as if He was right there with us and there wasn’t anything to be afraid of or feel funny about by just talking to Him like you’d talk to anybody. But I reckon if you can’t be comfortable and natural with Him, who can you be comfortable and natural with at all?
“I ask you to show me too, God,” I said. “We want to know what you’re like, and if you’re good, even though so many bad things happen.”
BACK HOME
10
EVEN THOUGH I’D AGREED TO STAY AT ROSE wood with Katie, I couldn’t keep from thinking once in a while about what would become of us … later, I mean. I was still concerned about Katie’s uncles. I’d agreed to stay for now. But I knew I couldn’t just stay forever.
And I couldn’t help thinking from time to time about my own status too. I was a runaway slave just like Emma was. Like I’d said to Katie, there wasn’t any two ways about it—bad things happened to runaways. I wondered what had happened to my master and the rest of the plantation. Had they been killed too, like my family? When Katie and me had gone back, I hadn’t seen or heard anything. But I hadn’t felt like getting none too close to the plantation house to find out. I didn’t want anybody to see me. But now I found myself wondering. If they hadn’t been killed, and if they found me, I’d be in big trouble. For all I knew Mr. McSimmons knew who’d been killed and who hadn’t and was out looking for me.
So I decided to go back to the McSimmons place again. I reckon it was a stupid thing to do, because if they got their hands on me, they’d put me to work or into some bed with a man. I’d heard about some of the McSimmons boys, and I didn’t like the thought of that one bit. But I had to know what had happened to the rest of them, and what was likely to happen to me. I couldn’t think straight to help Katie know what to do unless I had some idea about myself.
I thought about it for a week or more. Part of me was terrified to go back again. Somehow I think I knew I’d get seen. Another part of me didn’t want to do that to Katie. But finally I couldn’t hardly think of nothing else. I had to find out if anybody was alive or not.
So finally one day I told Katie that I was going back to my old house again.
“But, Miss Katie,” I added, “I need to go alone.”
Her eyes started getting big like they did. All of a sudden she was a little girl again.
“I’m sorry, Miss Katie, but I got to do it,” I said.
“But what if they make you go back to work, Mayme,” she said in a shaky voice. “What if you never come back … what will I do then? How will I take care of Emma?”
“If that happens, I promise I’ll get word to you somehow,” I said. “But I’ll be real careful.”
“Please don’t go, Mayme. I’ll be afraid without you. Why do you have to go?”
“It’s just something I think I’m supposed to do. I gotta find out if they’re looking for me. I don’t think I could stand having that over my head all my life.”
“How … how long will you be gone, Mayme?”
“Just a day.”
“When are you going?”
“Tomorrow.”
Katie looked away. I knew she was starting to cry.
“I’ll hurry as fast as I can, Miss Katie,” I said, facing her back.
“You’ll … you’ll ride, won’t you?” she said, still looking away.
“If you want me to, Katie.”
She only nodded, then got up and left the room.
I got up early the next morning. Katie got up with me. We hadn’t told Emma. There was no need to. Neither of us said much. When the horse was saddled and I was ready, Katie reached out and took my hand and held it tight.
“Mayme,” she said, and her voice was stronger now and she had gotten over her crying from yesterday, “you come back.” She looked straight into my eyes as earnestly as I’d ever seen her. “I can’t do this without you, Mayme,” she said. “I’m afraid. So you come back.”
“I will, Katie,” I said. “I promise.”
She let go of my hand. I saw her take in a breath, a little quivery, but she tried to smile. I got up on the horse and smiled down. Then I turned and rode away along the road toward town.
“Be careful!” she called out behind me. “Don’t let anyone see you. And hurry, Mayme!”
The idea in my head was to sneak up close to the plantation house and see what I could see. I kept to the road but didn’t hurry. I was thinking about a lot of things and I didn’t care if it took me all day. I just walked the horse slow, and whenever I saw somebody coming I got off into the woods to hide, waited till they were past, then continued on.
I went first to the slave cabins like we had before, and tied the horse a little ways away. It was still mostly deserted, but now I saw a little activity and heard voices. Somebody was living in one of the shacks now, but I didn’t recognize the voices.
I kept out of sight and snuck up to the big house, coming toward it from the side away from the barn, where I thought I’d be most out of sight. I was just gonna look around and see who I could see.
I crept toward it until I was pretty close, then ducked down and hid behind the well shed. I saw people. There was the overseer and the master’s two sons walking behind the barn. I didn’t see any coloreds, but the white folks looked like they were working as usual. Then gradually I saw some other people I didn’t recognize, both white and colored.
All of a sudden I heard a voice behind me.
“Hey, girl, wha’chu—why, Mayme!”
I spun around at the sound of the familiar voice.
“What’n tarnashun … dat really you?” There stood the ponderous form of Mistress McSimmons’ housekeeper and cook, who we all said ran the whole plantation.
My heart skipped with joy to see a familiar face!
“It’s me, Josepha,” I said, smiling.
“We thought you wuz dead wiff da others … how in tarnashun … but where you been all dis time, chil’!”
“I ran away,” I said.
She waddled toward me, her round black face beaming, and took me in her arms. It was all I could do not to break out bawling.
“Den it muster been you dat buried yo family—dat wuz what none ob us could figure, why some ob ’em wuz buried an’ not da res’.”
I nodded with a sad smile at the thought of that horrible day.
“Come in da house!” she said, standing back and running a scrutinizing eye up and down my frame. “You al’ays wuz a scrawny one, but wherever you been, dey ain’t been givin’ you enuff food. You needs some vittles in yo tummy.”
She started half pushing, half leading me toward the house. But I hesitated.
“I can’t stay, Josepha,” I said.
“Wha’chu mean … you ain’t fixin’ ter run off agin?”
“I can’t come back here, Josepha,” I said. “The master’ll whip me but good for running off. I’ve got another place that’s home to me now that my kin’s gone. Please don’t tell them you saw me.”
“You set yo min’ at ease, chil’,” she said. “Jes’ come wiff me. I’ll take care ob you, chil’. Why, I wuz dere when you wuz borned… .”
She paused a moment, and an odd expressi
on passed briefly across her face as she looked me over—a little strangely, I thought.
“What I’s sayin’ is dat you’s always been a mite special ter me. ’Sides, no white man ain’t gwine tell you what ter do no mo, no how.”
“Why, what do you mean?” I asked.
“Ain’t you heard? Ain’t no mo slaves. We’s all been dun set free.”
“Free,” I said, not understanding what she meant.
“Dat’s right—you’s free now, chil’. Dere’s sumfin called er ’mancipation proklimation what’s done made it against da law ter own slaves. Some feller named Lincoln done it. You’s a free black girl. Da white man kin’t do nuthin’ ter hurt you no mo.”
We had heard talk from some newspapers we’d read about Lincoln’s proclamation, but I never really believed it could be true. Leastways, not for me. I couldn’t see how some fancy words from far up north ways was gonna change Master McSimmons’ mind about slaves.
“But what about the war?” I asked.
“Dat’s all over, Mayme, chil’. Dat’s what dey wuz fightin’ ’bout, near as I kin tell. Da norf won an’ da souf had ter set us coloreds free. Leastways, sumfin like dat’s what da master done tol’ me.”
My brain went numb at what she was telling me. It was hard to imagine any white man fighting for colored folks, let alone a whole army. While I was still trying to make sense of it all, she put her great big arm around me and I found myself walking up the steps into the house with her.
I’d never been inside the big house before. As we went through the door I kept looking around nervously. After what she’d told me, and after being in Katie’s house and acting like it was my own, I don’t know why I should have been nervous now. But I couldn’t help still being afraid of the master. It hadn’t been so long that I’d forgotten what his whip felt like.
I was still jittery when Josepha put a plate of bread and cheese on the table in front of me.
“Wha’chu gwine do now, chil’?” she said. “Da master’d likely keep you on like he dun me.”
“You mean, stay here like before?” I asked.
“Dat’s what I mean. But not like no slave. You’d git paid fer yo work now. You could stay here in da house wiff me, an’ be a house girl an’ work wiff me.”
“What do you mean, get paid?” I asked.
“Jes’ what I mean. Dey gots ter pay us now, since we ain’t slaves. I’s be gittin’ five cents er day ter stay an’ work fer master McSimmons. I don’ know what’s ter become er me effen der young master marries dat lady what don’ seem ter like me none. But fer now I gots me my same room ter sleep in, an’ you can see wiff yo own eyes dat I ain’t sufferin’ from not havin’ enuff ter eat.”
She broke out in a chuckle that shook her huge frame. I could feel rumbling on the floor under my chair. The idea of a colored person getting paid real money was more than I could imagine.
“And … and you want to stay here?” I said.
“Where would a fat ole black woman go, chil’? I reckon I’m free, but I gots no place else t’ go. I been here all my born days, so I figure dis’ll be my home fer da rest of ’em.”
I took a bite of bread and thought about what she said.
“No … no, Josepha,” I said. “I don’t think I can stay.
And so I reckon I oughta be going.”
I stood up from the table.
“Wha’chu gwine do den, effen you don’ plan ter stay here?” she asked, looking up at me from where she sat like I was a little crazy.
“I … I don’t know exactly,” I said. “But I know I don’t belong here no more. After what I saw happen to Mama and Sammy and Grandpapa and the others, I don’t think this could ever be my home again. I’m sorry, Josepha, but I just gotta go.”
I started walking slowly to the door. Josepha stood and just watched me for a second or two, like she was really sad that I was leaving.
“Well den, chil’, jes’ a minute,” she said. I stopped and turned. “You jes’ wait dere,” she added.
She turned and trundled into another room and disappeared for a minute. When she came back she was holding something in her hand. It was a piece of white cloth. She took some more of the bread and cheese and wrapped it inside it, and gave it to me.
“Don’ open it till you’s gone,” she said. “Dis is jes’ from me ter you. I know it won’ make up fer losin’ yo mama, but maybe it’ll help some.”
Then she took me in her arms and held me for a long time. I’d forgotten that folks you’ve known a long time are important. I cried as I felt her holding me against her. I reckon Josepha was just about as close to a mama as anyone I had in the whole world anymore. And she was colored too, like me. All at once part of me thought that maybe I should just stay here with her, thinking that she’d keep me safe, and wondering if they’d take Katie in too, and then we’d both be safe. But then I remembered that Katie was white, and there’d be a lot of questions, and then likely something would happen to her house that might not be good for her and she might lose everything. And from what I knew of the master’s sons, I didn’t want Katie anywhere near them.
Slowly I stepped back, then looked up into her face.
“Thank you, Josepha,” I said. “It was real good to see you.”
“An’ God bless you, chil’,” she said, and I could see great big tears starting to drip down her face. “Now dat I knows you’s alive, I ain’t gwine be able ter keep from thinkin’ ’bout you. Anytime you want, you come back an’ see Josepha, you hear?”
I smiled. “I may do that,” I said. “I reckon you’ll see me again.”
She walked me back outside. I walked slowly down the steps from the porch, then away from the house. I glanced back one more time. Josepha was standing there sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of one hand, her other hand half raised waving at me. I waved back, then turned and kept walking.
All of a sudden from around the side of the house, the master came walking straight toward me. He slowed as he saw me, then stopped.
I froze. My heart started beating with terror. I don’t reckon a black girl’s face can go pale when she gets scared like a white person’s. But I could feel my insides jumping all over themselves and my knees going weak. I didn’t know if I could run faster than him, but I was about to find out if he tried to grab me.
At first I don’t think he recognized me. I reckon if Katie had changed, maybe I had too. There used to be a saying among the slaves that all coloreds looked alike to a white man’s eyes. Not being white, I never knew if that was true. I’m sure nobody’d ever confuse me and Josepha, ’cause she was huge and I was thin as a rail. But I could tell from one look at the master’s face that he was confused seeing me walking away from the house. He knew I didn’t belong there. But at the same time, a little look as his eyes and forehead wrinkled slightly told me that he recognized me, even though he didn’t quite know why.
Then slowly a light came over his face. He said, “You’re old Henry and Lemuela Jukes’s kid, ain’t you?”
I nodded, my feet still nailed to the ground.
“You didn’t get killed?”
“No, sir.”
“Where you been all this time?”
“Over yonder.”
I don’t know what he thought I meant by that. I’m not sure what I meant myself. He didn’t seem to question it, or wonder how I’d kept myself alive for two months.
“Well, don’t matter now, I guess,” he said. “I reckon what you do’s your own business. You ain’t mine no more. Well … talk to Josepha—she’ll put you to work.”
Then he kept going the way he’d been walking and disappeared around the other side of the house.
Josepha looked at me from the porch, like maybe she thought now I’d change my mind. But I just waved again, then kept going the way I had been.
I didn’t look back again. I didn’t want to cry, and I knew that if I saw her big tear-streaked face again, I would.
A REMEMBRANCE OF FREEDOM<
br />
11
IWALKED BACK DOWN PAST THE SLAVE CABINS TO where I’d tied the horse. I gave one last glance toward the little house, empty now, where I’d lived most of my life. This time I didn’t even want to go back and look inside.
That part of my life was over, especially after what Josepha had told me. That part of this world was gone. If I’d have known what I know now, I might have lingered a moment longer, just thinking how slavery was something that was now gonna fade into the history books. But I was still a girl, and I didn’t want to linger. History was the last thing on my mind. I just wanted to go.
Good-bye, little girl, I said again like I had a week before. You ain’t a slave no more!
I got to the horse. Now that I was alone, for some reason, even though I wasn’t hungry, I decided to open the cloth Josepha’d given me. I sat down on the grass and put it in my lap and unfolded it.
My eyes shot open wider than Katie’s! There were six pennies and another coin that was a silvery color sitting on top of the piece of bread. I just stared at them a minute, then took them in my hand. I’d never even felt money before in my life, much less had any of my own.
Josepha … the dear old lady! I didn’t know how much this was, but however much it was, she’d had to work more than a whole day for it, ’cause it had to be more than five cents. My first thought was to run back and thank her. But I decided I’d better not, ’cause with as much love as I was feeling for her right then, and knowing I didn’t have to be afraid of the master, she might talk me into staying!
I wrapped the coins back up and put them in the big pocket of my dress, then got on the horse and rode slowly away the way I’d come. I was hardly thinking about where I was going or what I was doing. My mind was so full of new thoughts. It’s impossible to describe to anyone who’s never been a slave what it’s like to suddenly realize you’re free. I would never forget what I felt like that day as long as I lived.
A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton Page 5
