Always Forward

by Ginny Dye

  “That’s right,” Robert agreed. “It’s going to take time for things to change.”

  “A right long time,” came a voice from the back.

  Robert sighed. “I’m afraid you’re right. The reason I told you all this is that if you understand why so many men are afraid, you’ll realize how careful you need to be. You need to assume white people will take any sign of friendliness as a threat.”

  “Real hard to change how white folks see us if we can’t never talk to them,” Jeb observed.

  “You’re right,” Moses said, “but as long as there are vigilante patrols roaming the countryside, we have to do everything we can to stay safe so that we’re here for our wives and children. Getting yourself killed won’t help anyone.”

  Silence gripped the room as his blunt words penetrated their anger.

  Moses was convinced he had made his point, but he didn’t want the men feeling hopeless. He decided to not share the letter Carrie had sent him about the Ellis Harper flyer. It was time to focus on something positive. “Now, there are also things to be excited about. I know things are bad, but the government will soon be sending down troops to help protect us.”

  “Ain’t nothing we can’t do ourselves,” one of the men from his old unit growled. “I got me half a mind to go back into the army. I hear they sending black men out west to take care of things. It’s bound to be a lot better out there than it is here. I got me forty acres of land and a house, but I got to spend every hour of the day wondering if some vigilante is coming after me. And, I gots to worry about my wife and children all the time.” He scowled. “Something could be happening to them right this minute while I’m here at this meeting. Ain’t none of us safe. Sometimes going back into the army sounds like a real good thing.”

  Moses nodded. “I heard about that. They started raising cavalry and army units back in September last year.” That’s all he said. He hated to lose any of his men off the plantation, but who could blame them for wanting to leave the South?

  “You think I ought to do it?”

  Moses was aware everyone else was listening closely. At least half the men in the room had served in the Union Army, many of them in his unit. “I think no one can make that decision for you,” he said carefully, “but you have to ask yourself what life would be like here for your wife and children if you went back into the army. You can’t take them with you.”

  The man looked thoughtful. “I couldn’t leave them here to deal with things on their own,” he finally said with a sigh. “I guess we gots to figure out how to live down here the best we can.”

  “I believe things will get better,” Moses said as his gaze swept the room. “It’s going to take time, but there is progress being made. New black schools are opening. New black colleges are being founded. There are a lot of people who are fighting to help improve our lives. But,” he added, “we have to fight harder than anyone else. Slavery was a terrible thing, but what happens to us now is up to each of us. There are people who want to help, but we have to want it for ourselves even more.” His voice rang through the room.

  As he talked, he watched the men straighten their shoulders. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction as a determined shine came into their eyes. This is what he was meant to do. He would miss farming every single day when he left the plantation, but he could no more turn his back on his people than he could quit loving Rose. It was not up to him to understand why his words held such influence, but it was his responsibility not to walk away from the knowledge.

  Chapter Ten

  Carrie knew Annie was standing on the porch staring at her with disapproval stamped on her face, but she wasn’t going to allow herself to care, and she wasn’t going to acknowledge it. Truth be told, it was easy not to care—not when spring had descended on the Virginia countryside, complete with a soft, warm breeze to caress her face. Granite nickered as they walked down the road, his head bobbing joyfully. Carrie knew he wanted to run, but she held him in check.

  She may be determined to ride today, but she was not forgetting she was almost five months pregnant. Though she had never felt better, that didn’t mean she would be careless. Too many things could happen, and she knew a fall could be disastrous. The day was so beautiful that she was content to walk along and watch the winter-bound world come back to life.

  Just a few days of warm weather had unlocked all the life waiting just below the surface for the signal to emerge. Yellow daffodils swayed in the breeze beneath trees bursting with buds taking on the tinge of green. Waves of white snowdrops nodded their heads over the carpet of lavender crocuses stretching out through the woods.

  A doe, heavy with child, burst from the woods in front of her. Carrie gripped more tightly with her knees in case Granite shied, but he merely flicked an ear in the deer’s direction. Squirrels leapt between trees in a riotous game of chase, while a flock of Canada geese, headed north, honked its way overhead.

  Carrie waved when some of Moses’ men spotted her, but she didn’t stop. The winter fields of Cromwell now lay ready for a new crop. The land had all been plowed, tilled and furrowed in preparation for the seedlings that would be planted in a few days. She took a deep breath, inhaling the rich aroma of earth that held the promise of new growth. The thought sent a thrill through her as she laid her hand on her stomach. Her baby had kicked for the first time last night. She and Robert had waited eagerly for the next one, laughing with delight when their child seemed to kick right into his daddy’s hand.

  Carrie’s face softened as she thought of the moment. She had never seen such pride and total joy on her husband’s face. After coming so close to death twice during the years of the war, she knew he thought of their baby as proof of a brand new life for them as a family. As she thought about the look on his face, her peace dissolved, only to be replaced by a churning in the pit of her stomach.

  Granite sensed the shift in her mood. He swung his head back to catch a glimpse of her as he nickered. Carrie rubbed his neck absently. “It’s okay, boy,” she murmured, but the tightness did not loosen.

  When she emerged into her haven on the banks of the river, she finally felt the bands ease from around her chest. She breathed in the aromas of spring while she luxuriated in the sound of the gentle waves of the James River lapping against the shore. The water tinkled against the rocks while sunlit sparkles cavorted in the breeze.

  Carrie dismounted carefully, unpacked the picnic bag Annie had handed her with a disapproving look, and then took off Granite’s saddle and bridle so he could graze on the lush grass. She walked over to her favorite log, smiling at the carpet of snowdrops surrounding it. The large weeping willow tree stationed on the bank was already bright with green—always the first tree to burst into life each spring. She sank down on the log and lifted her face to the sun, forcing herself to take long, easy breaths.

  Slowly, peace began to replace the churning in her soul. Her mind slowed enough to allow her to think about the urgency that had brought her to her special place. A sudden kick within her belly made her smile. She laid her hand on her stomach. “Hello, little one. I am going to choose to believe you’re letting me know how much you love this spot. I promise I will share it with you when you are born. You’ll grow to love it as much as I do.”

  Carrie pulled the letter from her pocket that had created her angst. Letters from Janie usually lifted her spirits, but this one had sent her into a tailspin—one she couldn’t understand. She opened the letter and read it again. There was nothing within the letter to create the unrest she was feeling. Janie was simply telling about the classes she was taking, what she and Matthew were doing, and how much she missed her. Carrie closed her eyes and envisioned the crowded, noisy Philadelphia streets, and then reopened them to take in the shimmering blue waters of the James River. There was simply no comparison, but still…

  She placed her hand on her stomach again. “Your mama is confused, little one. I made the choice to stay here. I don’t regret it. The clinic is busy, and th
anks to the remedies Dr. Hobson recommended, I’m helping veterans who are amputees in ways I couldn’t before. Robert and I are happy, and it is wonderful to have so much time with Rose and Moses.” The smile that had bloomed while she was talking faltered. “But what about after you are born, little one? How can I leave everything to go back to medical school and get my degree? How could I possibly take you away from your father for that long? How could I possibly leave you here when you are old enough?” The questions pounded in her brain as she gave voice to them. “How can I not get my degree after everything I have done? Will it be enough simply to work here at the clinic? My patients don’t mind right now if I don’t have a degree, but won’t that change in the future as medicine advances?”

  Carrie groaned, crumpled up the letter, and stuffed it back in her pocket as the questions pounded in her brain. No wonder every muscle in her body was tense. The love she felt for her unborn child grew with each kick, every tiny movement she felt flutter through her body. She could hardly wait until her baby was born, but she also acknowledged the birth would change everything. It would change her choices. It would change her routines. Quite simply, it would alter everything about her life. Rose assured her all the questions would melt away when she held her child in her arms for the first time, but she did not share the confidence.

  Treating patients had taught her there were women who resented their children. They felt trapped, limited in what they could do. In a time when women were expected to have a large number of children, it was too easy for the woman to disappear into the mother. Carrie was used to going against the norm of what society expected of women, but the reality that her rebellion could impact another life was sobering beyond measure. She never wanted her son or daughter to feel anything but cherished and loved. The world was changing, but societal shifts did not diminish the responsibility of being a good parent.

  Carrie stood abruptly and began to walk around the clearing. The beauty and serenity faded as the roaring in her head took over. Granite lifted his head to stare at her, snorted, and then lowered his head to graze again. He seemed to know there was nothing he could do. Carrie jolted to a stop as she gazed at Granite calmly snatching at patches of fresh green.

  That was it! Granite had felt her angst, had acknowledged he was aware of it, and then had gone back to eating because he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do about it. At least not at this moment in time… Just as there was nothing Carrie could do about it. She was pregnant. It was an irrefutable fact. In four more months, her child would be born. Her life would change. She could envision what that was going to be like as much as she wanted to, but it wouldn’t be until she was holding her child that she would know how it truly felt, and how it would impact what she decided to do with the rest of her life. She could feel Sarah’s voice echoing in her mind. “Girl, you really figur’ worryin’ gonna do you any good? Ain’t gonna do nothin’ but stir up thin’s inside. That be a recipe for misery, sho ‘nuff. You just gots to keep walkin’, Carrie girl. You gots to keep livin’. That old road of life will unfold before ya, just like it be meant to. You just gotta keep walkin’.”

  Sarah had started telling her to stop worrying when she was just a little girl because she had always wanted to be steps ahead of wherever she was. Truth be told, she probably always would be. It was who she was.

  Carrie walked over to the water, coming within inches of the river straining toward her. She stared east, seeing nothing but the endless ribbon of blue stretched before her. Someone following the James for the first time could never predict what was ahead. They would simply have to get in the water and follow the flow. Would it lead them to the ocean? Would it send them tumbling over a waterfall into jagged stones? Would it surge with muddy flood waters? They couldn’t possibly know. What would come would come.

  Carrie knelt down and scooped up a handful of cold water. She held it to her lips, tasting the mystery of life as she drank. As the liquid slid down her throat, she was amazed at the peace she felt. She was used to coming to her special place to receive answers. It felt odd, but somehow right, that the answer was the reality that there was no answer. She might still search for answers in the months to come, but she hoped she would hold tight to the truth that she must simply keep walking, letting the answers unfold as they came.

  ********

  Thomas was smiling when he walked into the house. Everyone was already seated at the dinner table. The windows were open for the first time that year, letting in a soft breeze that fluttered the curtains and made the lantern light dance across the ceiling. As he entered the room, May pushed through the kitchen door holding a huge platter of beef surrounded by baby carrots and onions that he knew she had harvested from the winter garden that morning. The aroma almost made him forget his news, but the crinkle of paper in his pocket brought him back to the present.

  “You look happy, dear,” Abby said fondly. She patted the chair next to her that was at the head of the table. “You’re here just in time.” She eyed him keenly. “Are you going to tell us what put that smile on your face?”

  “I know we had a successful report on earnings for the factory,” Jeremy added, “but something tells me that isn’t it.”

  Thomas smiled more broadly as he lifted his brow and remained silent.

  “Did you hear about Opal finding her new restaurant?” Marietta guessed.

  Thomas forgot about his own news for a minute. “She did? That’s wonderful news.” He turned to Abby. “Is it in a good location?”

  “You doubt me?” Abby teased. “I met Opal and Eddie there when I left the factory. It is a small restaurant near downtown on a very busy street. She will do well there.”

  Thomas hoped so. “And you’re not concerned about her being so close to downtown?”

  Abby shook her head. “Opal and Eddie decided they were willing to take the risk of being outside the Black Quarters. I quite agree with them. Opal is a wonderful cook. White people will overlook her being black because of the food, and she will make much more money there.”

  Thomas nodded thoughtfully, his mind returning to the envelope in his pocket. “It is soon going to be safer in the South for everyone,” he murmured as he pulled out the letter.

  May hesitated at the door to the kitchen, and Micah stepped in from the library with an inquisitive look on his narrow ebony face.

  “That what I think it is?” Micah asked, his eyes locked on the letter. “I done heard it might be real soon.”

  Thomas smiled more broadly. “Micah, you and May should hear this.” He waved at two empty chairs and waited for them to sit down. He glanced around the table, his smile becoming a little more fixed when he encountered Hobbs’ mutinous eyes. It amazed him that Hobbs continued to live with them. He and Abby talked nightly about whether it would create change in him. So far, they could only see the anger growing, not diminishing. He knew money was part of his reason for staying, but Hobbs was being paid well enough to rent a small room on his own. Was he saving money? Or was he gathering information for the vigilante groups? The latter option caused endless concern, but they both had decided they would not bow to fear in their own home. Hobbs was a guest. They would treat him with courtesy, but they would live true to their beliefs.

  Thomas pulled the sheaf of papers out of his pocket. He wasn’t going to read the entire thick letter, but there were portions he would refer to. “I received this from Matthew today. I am happy to report that Congress has passed the Reconstruction Bill.”

  “Glory be!” Micah and May yelled at the same time, their eyes wide with disbelief and joy.

  “That’s wonderful news,” Abby exclaimed.

  “Finally,” Jeremy added. “This has been long overdue.”

  “Will it mean protection for the freed slaves?” Marietta asked. “The reports coming in are horrifying. I worry about my students and their families every single day.”

  Hobbs was the only one to remain silent, but no one anticipated anyt
hing different. The entire family treated Hobbs with respect, but they also acknowledged the hard wall he had put around himself. There were few efforts to breech it.

  “It was quite a complicated and lengthy process to get this bill passed,” Thomas began. He lifted the first sheet of the letter. “I think a quote from the New York Herald, once one of President Johnson’s greatest supporters, says it best: ‘The President forgets that we have passed through the fiery ordeal of a mighty revolution, and that the pre-existing order of things is gone, and can return no more—that a great work of reconstruction is before us, and that we cannot escape it.’ ”

  “We gonna get the vote, Mr. Cromwell?” Micah asked eagerly.

  “Hush!” May snapped. “Let Mr. Cromwell tell it his way. We’s gonna find out soon enough.”

  Micah shrugged, but his black eyes glittered with expectancy.

  Thomas understood his impatience, but it was important to understand the process of what had happened. Less than two years ago, Micah would never have dreamed of interrupting his master. The fact that he now could spoke volumes of the progress since the end of slavery. “You know blacks in Washington, DC now have the right to vote. Just recently, Congress extended black suffrage to the western territories. The Radical Republicans in Congress were determined black suffrage would be part of this bill. Their insistence created quite a battle,” he admitted. “The last few weeks have been full of political haggling that would bore anyone but the most committed politician.”

  “Which is why the letter from Matthew is so thick. Thank you for sparing us the details,” Abby said. “I find I am much more interested in the bottom line.” She smiled. “But I also know how much you love to tell a good story,” she added fondly.

  Thomas returned her smile with a nod. “That’s true, my dear, but I have no problem getting to the bottom line this time because it is the understanding of the bottom line that will determine so much.” He took a deep breath. “The actual title of the bill is ‘An act to provide for the more efficient government of the Rebel States’. It was passed yesterday, the second of March. Every former Confederate state will have to fulfill the requirements of the act in order to be readmitted to the Union.”