A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton

by Michael Phillips

  “Yes’m, but—”

  “Emma!” said Katie. “Remember—we came here to help Mayme.”

  “If dey’ve taken her to the big oak, chil’,” said Josepha, breaking into tears, “dere ain’t nuthin’ you can do fer poor Mayme now.”

  Suddenly light flooded the stairway up to the house behind where Josepha stood.

  “Josepha, what’s taking you so long? Get back up here!”

  Katie and Emma crouched down out of sight, hoping no sound of feet on the stairs would follow the mistress’s voice.

  “Yes’m,” said Josepha. She wiped quickly at her eyes, then turned and trudged back up the stairs, moving as slowly as she could, it seemed, to give the two girls time to make their escape.

  Katie and Emma crept out of the cellar and dashed back across the yard. They reached the safety of the chicken house and then continued straight on past it, over the wooden fence, and to the safety of the trees. There stood Jeremiah watching for them, crouching low behind a tree, holding one of the rifles.

  “What are you doing with that!” exclaimed Katie softly as she ran past him.

  “Listenin’ t’ you talk about how dangerous dese people is, I figured I’d best be ready ter shoot if dey was comin’ after you an’ tryin’ ter hurt da two er you.”

  “Nobody saw us … come on!”

  Two minutes later they were back in their saddles, and Emma was leading the way as best she could remember to the fateful tree.

  THE BIG OAK

  41

  IT TOOK THEM TEN OR TWELVE MINUTES TO reach the place.

  The big oak stood in a clearing in the middle of a large field of pastureland. The nearest shelter where they could stay out of sight was two hundred or more feet away.

  “Dere it is—dat’s da big oak!” whispered Emma.

  Katie could feel the fear in her voice.

  “An’ see—dere’s six or eight men on horses all dere together! Oh, Miz Katie, I’m mighty feared ’bout what dey’s doin’, an’ I’m feared we be too late!”

  They dismounted as carefully as they could, tied their horses, and crept to the edge of the trees.

  “No—look, there’s Mayme in the middle of them,” said Katie. “We’re not too late. She’s on one of the horses and—”

  Suddenly Katie gasped in horror.

  “She’s blindfolded … and they’ve got a rope around her neck!” she exclaimed. “It’s tied over that limb up above!”

  “Dat’s what I feared, Miz Katie! Dat’s what I been tellin’ you.”

  “Dey’s fixin’ ter string her up, all right,” whispered Jeremiah, his voice suddenly sober and a look of determination on his face. “I heard ’bout dis eber since da war. I almost got in some trouble like it myse’f wiff some white men dat had been drinkin’.”

  “Oh, Miz Katie—Mayme’s so good,” Emma was babbling. “She must not hab told ’em about me. She gwine git herself strung up fer me. How can a body be so good dat dey’d do dat fer a nuthin’ like me, an—”

  “Emma!” whispered Katie as loudly as she dared, not worrying any longer if Jeremiah knew her name. “Get hold of yourself. We’ve got to do something!”

  “Dere’s a whole parcel ob dem, Miz Katie. Dey kill us too if we—”

  “Shush, Emma! We’re not going to let them kill Mayme.”

  “Yes’m.”

  “No, we ain’t,” added Jeremiah, anger rising in his voice at what he saw. “I’ll kill ’em all if I have to! I’m goin’ t’ git one ob dose guns!”

  “Just a minute, Jeremiah!” said Katie. “We’ve got to think first.—I wonder why some of them are wearing white hoods over their heads.”

  “I heard ob it,” said Jeremiah. “Some kind er white man’s religion, I think.”

  “It looks like one of the other men’s talking to her.”

  “Dat’s William McSimmons,” said Emma. “I can see him from here. He shoutin’ at her—he plenty riled.”

  “Then we’ve got to hurry!”

  “Jes’ tell me what ter do, ’cause I’m feared outer my wits.”

  “What should we do, Jeremiah?” she asked.

  “I’d like t’ kill ’em all,” he said. “But dere’s too many. I hate ’em. To tell you da truf, I neber shot a gun in my life, an’ I don’ know if I could kill a man, eben effen he’s white.”

  “We don’t have to kill anybody. We can just try to make them think we are. It’s a trick Mayme showed me.—Let’s get the guns.”

  They ran to the horses and pulled out the rifles.

  Quickly she explained as she and Jeremiah loaded the rifle and each took a handful of shells.

  “I’ll go ober dere,” said Jeremiah, “ober in dat clump er trees. I think I can git a little closer dere. Den we’ll start shootin’.”

  “You’ve got to hold real tight because it knocks back on your shoulder,” said Katie.

  “Jes’ ’cause I ain’t shot a rifle don’ mean I don’ know how dey is,” he said with the hint of a grin. “I’d be mo worried ’bout you, Miz Clairborne, dan I is fer mysel’.”

  “Just be careful. I don’t want you really shooting someone … or hitting Mayme.”

  “Don’ you worry, Miz Clairborne, I’ll jes’ aim up in da air ober dere heads.”

  Jeremiah moved off, leaving Katie holding her rifle and Emma trembling beside her.

  They tried to watch and listen. Katie could just barely make out William McSimmons yelling things like, “… know where she is … know what’s good for you … not worth losing your life … some bastard baby …”

  She wasn’t inclined to wait around to see what might happen next. She glanced through the trees. Jeremiah was already out of sight.

  They were far enough away from each other, Katie said to herself. She knelt down behind a tree, put the rifle to her shoulder, then aimed out toward the gathering of men at the tree.

  Please, God, don’t let me hit anyone, she whispered, especially Mayme.

  Then she set her finger to the trigger and fired a shot over the heads of the men.

  In spite of her warnings to Jeremiah, she’d forgotten what a kick the gun had. She nearly got knocked on her rump. Emma cried out from the sound as Katie steadied herself and fired again. Then came the sound of Jeremiah’s first shot.

  As the echo died away, Katie fired again. Then a few seconds later three or four more shots came from Jeremiah’s gun in rapid succession.

  Watch out, Jeremiah, she thought to herself, I don’t want to hear any bullets coming toward me!

  Taken by surprise, the men turned toward the shots, yelling and swearing in confusion.

  Katie fired again. A loud curse roared as William Mc-Simmons grabbed his leg in pain where she’d accidentally hit him in the thigh.

  “Let’s get out of here!” he cried. “We’ve done what we came to do. She’s practically dead now anyway—we’ll let the tree finish the job!”

  A few more shots sounded. Katie saw him give the horse I was sitting on a great swat on the hind end with his whip. The horse lurched forward as McSimmons galloped away after the others.

  Katie’s first thought was elation. Then she saw a horrifying sight—there I was dangling helplessly from the tree with the rope cinched tight up around my neck.

  “Mayme!” she screamed, dropping the rifle on the ground and running toward me while Emma stood paralyzed in fear.

  Katie was about halfway to the oak when Jeremiah came out of the woods and broke into a run after her. She heard him and turned.

  “Jeremiah!” she cried. “Go back and bring the horses! Hurry, Jeremiah!”

  Where she stood watching from the trees, in the midst of her panic and confusion and fear, Emma understood the urgency in Katie’s voice. She turned and ran for the horses. Before Jeremiah reached her, she had untied them and was running back toward him. He grabbed one set of reins and leapt into the saddle.

  Katie ran on toward the oak.

  “Mayme … Mayme!” she called, tears filling her eye
s.

  “Mayme, we’re here now—we’re going to help you.”

  But when she reached the tree, she realized there was nothing she could do. I was nearly ready to faint and was barely conscious that she was there at all. My hands were tied behind my back and my windpipe was nearly crushed from the pressure of the rope and I couldn’t make a sound.

  “Mayme … Mayme … oh, Mayme—God, help me!” Katie cried frantically, grabbing my feet where they dangled up in the air almost as high as her shoulders. She tried to lift my legs to take the pressure off my neck. But I was so close to unconsciousness, I just hung limp and couldn’t help her.

  “Oh, God!” cried Katie. “What should I do?”

  By then Jeremiah was flying toward her at a full gallop, followed by Emma, pulling the second horse by the reins.

  Jeremiah reined in and walked the horse forward to get it under me. At the same time he was fumbling with his hands, trying to grab hold of me.

  “Mayme … Mayme, sit up on the horse!” cried Katie from the ground.

  While Jeremiah tried to steady the horse, Katie tried to push my legs over its back. But in the noise and confusion, the horse kept moving about and Jeremiah couldn’t get it to stay still. And all the while I was just hanging there like dead weight, with my neck stretching farther and farther. I could feel the horse and someone trying to grab me, though I had no idea it was Jeremiah.

  “Emma,” cried Katie, “the knife! Get the knife. It’s in the saddlebag.”

  They kept struggling with the horse and my legs.

  “Here it is, Miz Katie,” said Emma as she ran forward.

  “Can you climb the tree, Emma?” said Katie.

  “Dat I can, Miz Katie. I’s real good at climbin’ an’ I—”

  “Then climb up and cut the rope, Emma! Climb faster than you’ve ever climbed before!”

  Emma scurried up the trunk with the help of a few low limbs while Katie kept lifting my legs and Jeremiah was trying to hold me up around my waist to take the weight off my neck. In a few seconds Emma was scrambling with the agility of a cat out onto the thick branch with the rope tied around it.

  “Be careful, Emma … don’t fall—but hurry!”

  Ten or fifteen seconds later the rope gave way. I dropped into Jeremiah’s arms. But the sudden weight of my body made him lose his balance and we both fell off the horse’s back and into a heap on the ground. Frantically Katie struggled with trembling fingers to loosen the noose around my neck as Jeremiah pulled himself out from under me. As she did, Katie saw the ugly, burning gash where the rope had dug into my skin.

  Finally she got it loose and the rope off my neck as Emma scampered back to the ground.

  “Mayme … oh, Mayme!” said Katie, smothering my face with kisses and trying to wake me up. “Please God … oh, Mayme, don’t be dead!”

  She saw Emma running toward her.

  “Emma, is there any water anywhere?”

  “I don’ know, Miz Katie. I think dere’s a stream ober yonder.”

  “Go, Emma—get some water! Get it in anything. Soak the bottom of your dress—anything!”

  Again Emma was off like a flash while Katie continued trying to revive me. Jeremiah knelt beside me too, though there was nothing he could do that Katie wasn’t already doing. My eyes were closed, my lips were parched and bleeding, and I had a cut above one eye and a big welt across one cheek. I looked so bad she thought I was dead. And I suppose I nearly was.

  Katie was sobbing and calling my name and stroking my hand and face, and it seemed like forever before Emma got back. She knelt down beside my head, the bottom half of her dress wet from the stream. Katie took hold of the hem of it and gently began to dab at my face and eyes. The cool wetness seemed to get through to my brain and finally I was able to open my eyes a crack.

  Katie saw my eyelids flutter and went wild with joy.

  “Oh, Mayme!” she cried.

  I felt her kissing my face and eyes and cheeks and forehead. She was weeping, and her hot tears mingling with the cold dampness of Emma’s dress revived me a little more.

  I opened my eyes a bit wider and tried to force a feeble smile to my lips, then lifted my hands and pulled the two faces down to mine. For a minute we just lay there embracing each other—Emma and Katie crying like a couple of babies. I didn’t have the strength to cry. I just lay there relieved. Vaguely out of the corner of one eye I saw Jeremiah’s face where he was kneeling behind them. I was too weak even to wonder how he came to be there, but I tried to smile.

  The next voice I heard was his.

  “Dose men be boun’ ter come back before long,” he said. “If dey fin’ dat we spoiled dere lynchin’, dey’s like ter string up all three ob us next time.”

  “You’re right,” said Katie, “we’ve got to get out of here.”

  With some difficulty they got me to my feet. Jeremiah lifted me onto one of the horses. Now that I was coming awake, all the pain from every part of my body was coming awake too. But I tried not to show it because I didn’t want Katie to worry about that right then.

  “Jeremiah,” said Katie. “You’re stronger than me. You ride with her and keep her in the saddle.”

  He climbed up behind me, and it felt good when he put his arms around me to grab on to the saddle horn. It hurt and it was all I could do to stay in the saddle, even with Jeremiah holding me to keep me from falling over.

  Katie mounted the other horse, then reached down and pulled Emma up behind her.

  “Hold on to me, Emma,” she said.

  Katie and Jeremiah led the two horses back to the woods where they had hidden. There we stopped. My brain was still faint from pain and hunger and thirst. But I was awake enough to help Emma figure where we were and how to get back toward the road without running into anyone from the McSimmons plantation. We went slow. Katie was listening hard for any sound of voices or horses. She knew what Jeremiah had said was true and we were still in a lot of danger.

  We didn’t go back on the McSimmons road at all but eventually made it to the main road to Oakwood. Katie got off while the rest of us waited on the horses out of sight. She walked out of the woods on to the road to make sure it was safe. When she saw no one, she came back and we continued on. We still had to pass the place where the Mc-Simmons road turned off. When we saw it in the distance we again went off the road into the woods and underbrush till we were well past it.

  We were hardly on the road again when we heard thundering hooves coming.

  “Off the road!” cried Katie.

  She and Jeremiah led the horses back into the trees. We were barely out of sight when five or six riders galloped past on the way from Greens Crossing to Oakwood.

  “Dat’s dem,” said Emma. “Dey’s huntin’ fer us!”

  “Well, if they’re going back in the opposite direction from where we’re going,” said Katie, “they’re not going to find us.”

  As soon as they were out of sight, they led us back onto the road. And now Katie tried to urge the horses along faster. Jeremiah did the same until they were going too fast and the bouncing and jostling hurt and I started to cry out from the pain. They slowed a little and continued on as fast as I could stand it.

  FOUR SISTERS AND A FRIEND

  42

  WE RODE HARD ABOUT HALFWAY BACK TO Rosewood.

  But after about another twenty minutes, Jeremiah could tell that I was getting faint again. I began to slump and collapse in his arms, and he realized I needed a rest.

  He slowed. Then he and Katie began looking for a place they could stop for water. A few minutes later Jeremiah led us off the road, down an incline, and across a small grassy field to the river—the same one that bordered Rosewood two or three miles away.

  Katie and Jeremiah helped me down off the horse, and I nearly collapsed at the water’s edge.

  “Water …” I tried to say, “… thirsty.”

  Katie jumped to the river, took off her bonnet, scooped it full of water, and hurried back to me. She h
elped me sit up and held the water to my lips before most of it soaked through the cloth to the ground. But I managed two or three swallows.

  She went back, and after a few minutes I had managed to get some water into my belly and Katie had washed my face.

  I smiled faintly and said softly, “Thank you.”

  “Oh, Mayme,” Katie said, “it breaks my heart to see you like this!”

  She embraced me again. I stretched my arms around her and we held each other for the longest time. Katie relaxed, and I saw Emma and Jeremiah kneeling beside her. I reached toward Emma, and she came forward and embraced me too. My back ached with pain when they hugged me, but the hugging was worth the pain. Then I smiled at Jeremiah, still too worn out to wonder what he was doing with the others.

  “We wuz so worried fer you, Miz Mayme,” said Emma. “I knowed it wuz my fault an’ I’m dreadful sorry what you had ter go through on account er me. Miz Katie tol’ me dey wuz lookin’ fer me, an’ you din’t tell ’em ’bout me—I know you didn’t an’ I don’ know how ter thank you. I’m so sorry, Miz Mayme. But Miz Katie, she’s so brave, and she said we wuz gwine git you away from dem, but I wuz skeered—”

  Katie laughed. “We were both scared, Emma,” she said. “I’m not sure about Jeremiah,” she added, looking at him, “but God helped us do what we had to do.—Do you think you can ride, Mayme?”

  “I feel better now,” I said. “I’ve hardly had anything to eat or drink in two days. I was just feeling faint.”

  “Then let’s get you home.”

  We mounted again and rode the rest of the way, not quite as fast but with Katie still pushing the two horses at more than a walk.

  When at last I saw the white buildings of Rosewood in the distance, I was so relieved I thought I would burst for happiness.

  We had hardly come into sight when a small figure came running and yelling from the house. “Mayme … Mayme!”

  Katie and Emma jumped down from their horse. Katie steadied me while Jeremiah got down and then I slumped off the saddle into his arms.

  I looked toward the house and halfway opened my arms just as Aleta rushed into them and embraced me like I never thought would happen for as long as I lived. My back was screaming in pain from the drying welts, and as she grabbed me it was all I could do not to cry out. But my heart was so warmed from the look in her eyes that I thought I could endure just about anything.