A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton

by Michael Phillips

  I set down the lantern and waited a bit while Katie collected herself.

  The floor was hard-packed dirt, but it was dry and had a few things on it. I don’t know why it should have been spookier now, in the middle of the night. The cellar looked the same in the middle of the day as in the middle of the night. But something about it was different and gave me the creeps. I know Katie felt it too. The silence was deeper, the shadows longer. I kept expecting something to jump out at us from one of the darkened corners. Just knowing that the sun was gone above us made the darkness more fearsome down here too.

  There wasn’t much in the place except for a few small pieces of furniture that must have been put down here to store them out of the way. How Katie’s father had got them down here I couldn’t imagine, unless they’d been down here since the house was built. There was a dresser, a small wardrobe, and one other big chest of some kind sitting on the ground.

  “Do you know what’s in those?” I asked Katie.

  “No,” she said. “I was only down here a time or two, for tornados and then … you know.”

  I nodded. “Were the drawers of that one open like that,” I asked, pointing to the dresser, “when you were down here before?”

  “I don’t remember. I don’t think so.”

  “Emma must have been looking through them. Do you suppose that’s where she found the gold pieces?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to blame her—she must have been down here an hour or more.”

  “She was probably scared silly.”

  We went to look closer. Katie opened all the drawers. There were a few old clothes that smelled of mildew, some papers, but no more gold coins in the drawers. We looked in the wardrobe too, but it was empty. Then Katie walked over to the chest on the floor.

  “It’s locked,” she said.

  “Do you have any idea where the key might be?” I asked.

  Katie thought a minute, then both of us seemed to remember at the same time.

  “The keys in my mother’s secretary!” said Katie. Again we bolted for the stairs.

  I don’t know how we kept from waking up the other two girls, but even in our excitement, somehow we didn’t. Five minutes later we were again descending into the cellar. This time a ring of keys was jingling from Katie’s hand. We hurried back to the chest, and one by one Katie fumbled with the keys to find one that would go into the padlock of the chest. When she found the one that opened it and then lifted the lid back, our hearts really started pounding. I think both of us were hoping it would be full of gold and jewels like a pirate’s treasure.

  But it wasn’t. There were just a bunch of men’s shirts and trousers, a pair of boots, and one dress-up coat that had probably been real nice once. Everything in the chest was worn and old and didn’t smell so good.

  Disappointed, we stared at it a minute, then Katie started rummaging through it.

  “I wonder if what you said earlier’s true,” she said, “about those coins being my uncle’s. I wonder if these are his clothes.”

  “ Didn’t you say he was here once?”

  “I think so. I think that’s how I got the idea into my head that he had gold. I once had a dream about it, though I imagined gold nuggets or something, not coins. But my memory of it is vague now.”

  She held up a second pair of trousers that was stuffed in the bottom. As she threw it back in with the rest, we heard a faint metallic sound. Katie grabbed them up again and shook them in her hand.

  “There it is again!” she exclaimed.

  She stuffed her hand into one of the pockets and pulled it out, holding another four coins.

  “Look,” she said, “they are even bigger than the others!”

  “How much are they worth, do you think?” I asked.

  “These all say ten dollars on them…. Show me one of the others.”

  I pulled one out of the pocket of my dress and handed it to Katie.

  “This says five dollars. So that’s five, ten, fifteen … plus these four … that’s fifty-five dollars.”

  Katie now dove into what remained in the chest and threw everything out till it was completely empty. Then she searched and shook every piece of clothing. But there were no more coins.

  “Fifty-five dollars is a fortune, Miss Katie,” I said when she was through. “You’re practically rich!”

  “But it’s not mine. These must belong to my uncle Ward.”

  “Didn’t you say he was dead?”

  “I don’t know. I think so.”

  “But even if he isn’t, he wouldn’t mind you using it. And he ain’t coming back anyway. Didn’t you say he hadn’t been here in years?”

  Katie nodded. “It would be nice to pay off the bill at Mrs. Hammond’s,” she said. “I don’t like her scowling at us.”

  “I think she’d scowl just the same,” I said. “But then you could buy other things you need too.”

  “I wonder if it’s enough to pay off my mama’s loan at the bank.”

  “How much is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to look at my mama’s papers tomorrow. But right now, let’s get some sleep.”

  “Where are you going to keep the gold coins, Miss Katie?”

  “I don’t know. Someplace safe.”

  “Well, you take the three little ones now too,” I said. “I had them all day, but now they’re making me nervous. They’re yours now.”

  Katie took them from me and held the seven coins in her hand a minute, just looking down at them.

  “Oh, Mayme, I’m so excited!” she said. “Just when another mouth comes along to feed, we find this. God really is taking care of us, isn’t He!”

  AWKWARD DAYS

  19

  KATIE AND EMMA AND I WERE ALREADY UP AND working in the kitchen when we heard Aleta’s footsteps on the stairs. Katie set down the knife in her hand she’d been slicing bread with, wiped her hands, and went to meet her.

  She brought Aleta into the kitchen and asked her, “Would you like some breakfast?”

  “What are they doing here?” said Aleta, glancing first toward me, then with a frown toward Emma.

  “I told you before, they live here.”

  “They live in the same house with you?”

  “Yes. Mayme and Emma are my friends.”

  “They will never be my friends.”

  I turned away. I knew she was just a confused little girl who didn’t know better. But the words hurt. And I knew there was nothing I could do to help. If I’d have tried to be nice to her or go over and talk to her, to show her that I was a normal person just like her, it wouldn’t have done any good. If there was going to be a change in what she thought of my being black, it would have to come from inside her. Even Emma was uncharacteristically quiet. After getting used to Katie’s kindness, I think the words took her by surprise and shocked her into silence.

  Katie walked over and took William from Emma, cradled him gently in her arms, then returned to where Aleta stood.

  “And this is William, Aleta,” she said with a smile. “William is Emma’s son. Isn’t he a fine-looking little boy?”

  Aleta stared down at him in silence.

  “Would you like to hold him just for a second, Aleta?”

  “No,” she said.

  “All right, maybe later. Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?”

  Aleta nodded. Katie sat her down at the table, poured her a glass of milk, and began slicing some bread, talking gently and quietly to her, just like a grown-up would.

  Sometimes Katie amazed me, and now was one of those times!

  After a minute or two, I left the kitchen and went outside. I started walking away from the house and then heard Katie’s voice.

  “Mayme,” she said.

  I turned around. She was standing in the doorway, then took a few steps toward me.

  “Mayme … I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I know, Miss Katie. It’s all right,” I said. “You just take care of he
r the best you can. She needs your help. I’ll be all right.”

  The next couple of days were awkward and hard. Katie didn’t know what to do. Aleta followed her around with the devotion of a puppy dog. But whenever she saw Emma or me, she got an angry expression on her face and tried to get as far away as she could. With William to tend to, Emma hardly seemed to notice it much. But Katie knew it hurt me, especially after how close she and I had become. She always looked at me apologetically, but we didn’t know what to do.

  The rest of the time Aleta had kind of a dazed look on her face. She didn’t cry or talk about her mother or ask any questions about Katie’s parents or why there were just three girls and a baby here. But then I remembered that I hadn’t cried much at first either. Neither Katie or me knew what she was thinking. She just did what Katie told her and followed her around, or else silently stood and watched with a scowl on her face when Katie and me were talking about something or doing our work, or when Emma went into one of her fits of chattering. I tried to keep out of her way as much as I could. I figured that would be best for now.

  At the end of the second day, I walked back to the house from the barn where I’d done the milking by myself. As I went in, Aleta and Katie were in the kitchen. Emma and William were napping.

  Aleta glanced up and got that look on her face again.

  “My daddy hates coloreds,” she said. “If he saw you, he’d kill you.”

  “Aleta,” said Katie, shocked. “How can you say such a thing!”

  “He says coloreds are bad and mean and ugly.”

  “Then he’s wrong,” said Katie. “Mayme saved my life, Aleta. She helped me just like I helped you. She’s as nice a girl as you could ever meet.”

  Aleta didn’t say any more.

  “Do you want to hate people like your father does?” asked Katie. “Do you want to be like him?”

  The thought seemed to sober her. She got up from her chair. “May I play with your dolls?” she asked.

  “Yes,” answered Katie. “Yes … you may.”

  Aleta left the kitchen and went upstairs.

  CLEARING OFF A BILL

  20

  IN SPITE OF THE SUDDEN CHANGE IN OUR LIVES because of Aleta’s coming, the seven gold coins had got right into Katie’s brain. Once I’d convinced her that it would be all right to use it, she didn’t waste any time trying to figure out what to do with the money. It must have been working on her all night the way things do even when you’re asleep, because by morning she was ready to act like the mistress of a plantation with financial problems and do what she could about them.

  Almost the minute Aleta was out of earshot, and not yet hearing anything from Emma, she spoke up about it.

  “We’ve got to go back into town again, Mayme,” she announced.

  “What for?” I asked.

  “I want to pay off the bill at Mrs. Hammond’s store so she doesn’t come calling or visiting or pestering us about the money we owe her. And we could use some things too—like flour and sugar. And we’re almost out of bacon and bacon grease too.”

  “But if we bought bacon, she’d be liable to be suspicious, wondering why you didn’t just have your own from butchering one of your hogs.”

  “I see what you mean. But the main thing is I don’t want her fussing about the bill. She used to pester Mama something fierce, and I’d rather she wasn’t asking too many questions. And I want to pay off some of Mama’s loan at the bank too.”

  “You don’t think Mrs. Hammond will ask questions about where the money came from?”

  “She probably will,” said Katie. “But that would be better than having her snooping around here. I hope getting her money will outweigh her curiosity.”

  “I see what you mean,” I said, “but how can we go into town again now that Aleta’s here? She would never stay with me for you to go alone—”

  “I can’t go alone, Mayme,” interrupted Katie. “I’m not brave enough for that yet.”

  “Then I don’t see what’s to be done with Aleta.”

  “Couldn’t we take her with us?”

  “Do you think she’d stand for it, going all that way sitting beside me? And what about when we got to town and people saw her? That would make Mrs. Hammond all the more curious!”

  “But maybe somebody would see her that knows her,” said Katie, “and then we could find out who her father is and she would be able to go home.”

  “Maybe,” I said, thinking about what Katie said. “But then what would they think about us? How would we explain ourselves? And Aleta would be bound to tell them there were no grown-ups at Rosewood.”

  “But we can’t just keep her here forever. What about her father?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just concerned about your safety, Miss Katie.”

  Katie took in what I’d said and mulled it over in her mind for a while. A few minutes later Emma came in holding William, and that put an end to our conversation.

  But it didn’t put an end to Katie’s determination to go into town and spend at least one of those gold coins. As soon as she’d poured Emma some milk and had her seated at the table eating some bread, she brought it up again.

  “Emma,” she said, “I’ve got to do something and I need for you to be real brave for me if you can.”

  “What dat, Miz Katie?” said Emma, getting a worried look on her face.

  “Mayme and I need to go back into town again, and—” “You’s not gwine make me stay down in dat cellar agin, are you, Miz Katie?” she said, getting a scared look on her face.

  “I have another idea, Emma. This time you and William can stay down in one of the cabins where our slaves used to live. How would that be?”

  “Dat be right fine by me, Miz Katie,” said Emma in relief.

  “You’ll be out of sight there, and if anyone should come, I’ll show you a place to hide, just like before.”

  “Not in no cellar?”

  “No, Emma, just out of the way. But nobody will come and you’ll be safe. We’ll be home before you know we’re gone.”

  “What about dat young’un—dat ornery white girl dat don’t like me an’ Miz Mayme none? You ain’t gwine make me take care er her, is you, Miz Katie?”

  “No, Emma—we’ll take her with us.”

  And so it was that the following morning, Katie and Aleta and I climbed up onto the seat of the small buckboard, Katie in the middle and me and Aleta on each side of her, and headed into Greens Crossing behind a single horse, with Emma safely out of sight in Rosewood’s colored town.

  All the way into town Katie and I talked just like we always did, though I could tell Katie was making a special effort to show Aleta that there was nothing so unusual in a black girl and white girl being friends. Every once in a while she’d turn to Aleta and talk to her for a while, but Aleta remained mostly quiet and reserved.

  “Now, you remember what I asked you before,” said Katie as we began to get close to town, “whether you knew anybody in Greens Crossing, or whether they would know your papa?”

  “I don’t think so,” replied Aleta.

  “Somebody there might know your papa. Do you want us to ask the lady at the store? If you’ll tell me your daddy’s name, I will ask if she—”

  “I don’t want to go back to my papa,” said Aleta firmly. “I’m afraid of him. I’m not going to tell you his name.”

  We jostled along a little while longer.

  “All right, Aleta,” said Katie, “if that’s how you feel, I won’t ask about him. But then you’ll have to hide out of sight under those blankets we brought back there. Can you do that?”

  “Why do I have to hide?” asked Aleta.

  “Because,” Katie began. She hesitated and glanced at me. “Because we don’t want people asking us questions about you,” she said after a second. “If you don’t want to go back to your papa, it’s best no one sees you. When people see girls like us all alone without any grown-ups with them, they get curious and wonder why. So we don’t want th
em wondering about you. So can you hide in the back of the wagon and not make a peep?”

  Aleta nodded.

  Katie pulled the buckboard to a stop. “All right, then,” she said. “We’re almost to town. So you get back there and lie down, and I’ll cover you up.”

  Aleta and Katie stepped down and Katie arranged her in the back of the wagon out of sight.

  “You just stay there until I tell you to come out,” said Katie. “We have to go into a store in town, so you might not hear anything for a while. After that we’ll make one more stop. You just lie still and don’t make a sound.”

  Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of the general store. I tried to put on my slave face as I got down from the wagon. Then we went inside.

  “Hello, Mrs. Hammond,” said Katie as we walked in, trying to sound confident and grown up. “My mama sent me into town to pay off our bill … I mean, to pay her bill.”

  Mrs. Hammond glanced up from behind the counter, looked toward me with an unpleasant expression, then at Katie.

  “What is she doing in here with you?” she said.

  “How much is the bill please, ma’am?” asked Katie, ignoring the question.

  “It’s something over three dollars, Kathleen.”

  “Good, then this will be enough,” said Katie. “Here, Mrs. Hammond,” she added, handing her one of the fivedollar coins.

  “Gracious, child,” she said, “in front of the colored girl! What does your mother teach you!”

  “I thought you’d be pleased to have your bill paid, ma’am.”

  “Well, yes … of course … yes, I am. But … where on earth did your mama get this!” she said as it began to dawn on her that Katie had just handed her five dollars of pure gold.

  “I don’t know, ma’am. We want to buy a few more things, if you don’t mind.”

  “Why … yes, I will just check your mother’s account.”

  “Here is a list of what we would like,” said Katie, handing her a small piece of paper.

  Still flustered, Mrs. Hammond took it while we walked around the store trying to keep from looking at each other.