A Most Precious Pearl

by Piper Huguley

  Within about twenty minutes, Mr. Thomas came out front dressed in his finest brown suit and stood next to where she was sitting on the porch. She bit the inside of her lips to keep herself from swooning at his handsome appearance.

  “That didn’t take long.”

  “I didn’t want you sitting out here all by yourself in your new finery.”

  She expressed surprise as she stood. “I didn’t think that you would have noticed me this week. You’ve seemed mad at me or something.”

  “Should someone be mad at the rain?”

  “What?”

  “You know how after a rainstorm comes and everything is washed away and is clean again? That’s what your words did to me the other day. Everything, my injury, Aline’s death, made it seem as if my life were a prison. The things you said somehow cleared that away. You’re magic, Margaret Bledsoe.”

  Ignoring the use of her full name, she led the way down the steps to the car. “I’m glad to help.”

  Asa came around and opened the door of the car and handed her in. “Glad that you were there to help.”

  After he started the car and came around to the other side, she said, “I think that God places people into your life for a reason.”

  “And I’m thankful to Him because of it. And to you. Thank you.” Asa turned and fixed her with his penetrating gaze.

  “You’re welcome.” Mags kept her voice low because his gaze made her want to take her gloves off so that air could get to her hands. She reached up with a gloved fingertip to wipe an imagined blot from her lips and his hand captured hers, just as it had a couple of weeks ago. “Shouldn’t we be going now?” she whispered, his face so close to hers she could see that he had combed his thick mustache and chin hair and that not one hair was out of place.

  Not a hair would be out of place, unless… Avoiding her hat, almost as if he had planned it, he leaned into her and a shiver ran down her spine as his gorgeously shaped lips gently but insistently, touched hers.

  What should she do? Travis had always acted as if she were a fragile jewel, so precious to really kiss, and so his kisses were light and airy.

  Now she did know what that moustache felt like. And no, the moustache did not tickle. She did not feel the least little bit like laughing, even though the thrill pushed down her body to her high button shoetops. Responding with a sigh, she opened her lips up just a bit more.

  Then, all of a sudden, cold air rushed in around her mouth.

  He had pulled away. “We had better get on to the celebrations.” He shifted to pull the car away from the side of the house.

  Why had he pulled away? Was it because she hadn’t done it right? It wasn’t fair. She was only twenty and never had any real practice so that she could know what felt good to him.

  Should she ask him for a second chance? Maybe if he stopped the car, he would do it again. She opened her recently abandoned lips, and stopped herself.

  Kissing her had made him think of the French woman. She had known how to do it right, and Mags didn’t. He probably just wanted to forget that it had ever happened. No need to bring up a painful memory.

  With a pain in her heart, she sat back into the car seat and stared down the road again, her mind in a fog.

  Because now she knew she falling in love with him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Asa drove along the road in stunned silence. Had he just kissed Mags? An employee? John Bledsoe’s daughter?

  And what of her nonchalant, although accepting response? She kissed him as if she enjoyed it, and let him know that she was knowledgeable, but not too much so, about kissing. Oh, yes, she was far from an ordinary country girl. She was every inch a pearl and he wanted her to be on fire for him, to care for him, as he was beginning to care for her. He found himself, Asa Thomas Caldwell, the journalist, tongue-tied as he drove along the road into town.

  “You’ll want to park the car here,” she informed him coolly as they came closer to the town square. “Still, I know that you don’t want to park too far away.”

  “I’ll be alright,” he assured her in a brusque way, as anger swirled in with his already whirling emotions. Now she was concerned about him, because of his leg? He didn’t want her pity, he wanted her regard, her respect and her admiration, and could it even be possible—he wanted her love. He parked the car and sat there a minute, transfixed by the possibility.

  What would it mean to be loved by such a pearl? It would mean marriage for sure, and Asa did not know if he could be married to anyone.

  Just as he situated to get himself out of the car, she was already out. He couldn’t even be fast enough to help her out of the car because she could do it quicker on her own. “Why didn’t you wait in the car?”

  “I didn’t want to.” Her response came sensible, calm and rational. It made him even angrier. How could she be so maddening?

  “Next time, you are supposed to wait until I come around.”

  “Why should I?” He saw how perfectly the hat framed her large eyes and clear brown skin, the color of maple -sugar candy.

  “So that I could hand you out,” Asa informed her.

  “We’re just going to the Independence Day celebrations. There’s no need for ceremony.”

  “It’s not a ceremony to hand a woman out of the car. It’s courtesy. It’s respect and decorum and thoughtfulness.”

  Now he could see, with increasing acuity, her rational mind at work. She tilted her head and the hat went to one side. “Is this all about the kiss? Because if it is, I understand. You didn’t mean to do it and you want to take it back. Fine. We can go on and act as if nothing ever happened. You’ve been forgiven. It never happened. Now, let us enjoy the day.” She took up a parasol, opened it and began to walk on ahead of him, not slowing for him, leaving Asa dazed and confused.

  That was not what he meant! He stood there in a whirl of confusion, leaning more heavily than usual on his cane. He wanted to call her back but everything was happening too fast. He didn’t want to take back the kiss and he didn’t want her to be angry at him, but he had behaved so badly, he wasn’t sure what, if anything, he should apologize for.

  “Bring your notebook along.” Mags turned around so elegant and fine in her dress and hat. “There’ll be many a family coming in from the outer reaches of the county and they may have some things to tell you that could go into the report.”

  Now she was telling him how to do his job. But, he had to admit, she made too much sense to overlook or ignore her main point, so he brought the notebook, tucking it into his suit jacket and focused on navigating walking along the main road.

  He followed Mags to the area behind the main band shell where the Negroes were allowed to gather for the festivities. White families were gathered more around the front of the main band shell and silently, he fumed. People were just barbaric in the way they treated one another. Paul Winslow’s entire means was dependent on his Negro workers and how first Mags, and then he, taught them how to be more productive to enrich him. And Winslow couldn’t treat the workers any better than seats behind the main band shell, where they wouldn’t even be able to see.

  The Bledsoe family had set up a picnic table and the sisters spread table cloths and laid out delectable food. Asa knew some of the other families, and he saw Katie come over and make a big fuss over the way Mags was dressed. High time someone did. Even though he couldn’t do it himself, he was glad that Katie flattered her. She did look breathtakingly lovely. He situated himself at one end of the table and pulled out his notebook.

  “This here is the holiday, Mr. Thomas.” Katie looked at him and laughed. “What you bring that old notebook for?”

  “You never know when you might need to make note of something.” He hated himself for being unable to look at Mags in her resplendent dress. She had taken off her hat and her long thick hair was pulled back from her face into a looser bun a
t the back of her head instead of her usual tight work bun. The relaxed look made her look older than her twenty years, even as Asa reminded himself repeatedly that she was only twenty, and he was ten years older than her.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a young Negro man approaching the Bledsoe table and he began to fume. He better not be approaching her, wanting to ask her for a dance, or to come sit as his table or… He saw that the young man palmed a big farmer’s hat as he spoke first to John and then to Mags. He bristled as he saw her make a bit of a turn and then brought the young man over to the table and he sat on the bench opposite. “Hello, sir. I’m Alonzo Parker. Up from Harolson County.”

  He reached across and shook his hand, thinking him a handsome prospect for Mags, but resenting him as a prospect all of the same. “Good to meet you, Mr. Parker.” Asa got down to questioning him as a potential husband for Mags. “You have a farm up there in Harolson Country?”

  “Yes, sir. I sharecrop up there. I been having a problem with the way the accounts has been kept. Wonder if you can help.”

  He straightened his leg out. This man wasn’t a prospect for Mags’s hand in marriage, he was a potential interviewee. He looked up at Mags and saw her bustling around, organizing, as she always did, ready to feed everyone for lunch. She looked over at him and gave him a warm smile. Her smile, when she chose to bestow it, was a wondrous thing, and he felt glad that it was on him at this time, and not Mr. Parker. He turned his attention to some papers that Mr. Parker was drawing out of his hat and fixed the man with a careful look. “There isn’t much that I can do about this but to report it as one of those problems that Negros around here have been having.”

  Mr. Parker smiled as he tucked his papers away as he made some more notes. “God Almighty, I knows. But it feel good to come to an educated man like yourself and figure out what you been feeling is true, and then knowing it is true. I can’t do anything about it now, but I been hearing about them jobs up north in the plants. I might could get me one of them and then Mr. Reece don’t have me to farm his land. I thank you kindly, sir.” They shook hands once again and Mr. Parker went on his way.

  Mags sat down in the same place where Alonzo Parker had been and folded her arms over one another. “Lunch is ready. I think you need something to eat, so that you aren’t crabby anymore.”

  “I’m not crabby,” Asa informed her as he closed his notebook.

  “I can fix you a plate if you like. You keep on writing down what Mr. Parker told you.”

  “That’ll be fine. Whatever you put on it, I know it’ll be delicious.” He said this to her knowing that she had made the bulk of what was on the table. She went away from him to fix his plate and it was hard to focus on this opportunity to get some things down.

  Out of the corner of his eye, however, he saw a white presence hovering on the edge of the shelter, and then recognized many of the Negro families, the ones who had gathered in celebration for the holiday, had grown quiet, watching.

  Asa laid down his lead pencil and looked up, seeing an official-looking man, accompanied by another, walking straight for him. He looked up in curiosity. “Good afternoon and happy Fourth of July, gentlemen. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “We was just wondering what you was back here doing.” He could see that the younger one, who just spoke to him in rather disrespectful way, was probably seeking to make a name for himself. He let out a breath.

  “I was just making some notes about the gathering. Probably write it up for the church papers.”

  “All of these folks been coming to Mr. Paul’s Independence Day celebrations for years and know what it is.” The older one looked at him levelly and Asa didn’t flinch under his gaze. “Just some music, peach ice cream and fireworks. No need to put it in the papers.”

  “Well, all the more reason for someone like me, who isn’t from here, to write stuff down. Where I’m from, we don’t have occasions such as this. Wonderful to see.” He smiled at him.

  “Great. Well, I would suggest that you put away your notebook and enjoy the day, sir.” They stared at one another as if it were a contest. He would rather stare at Mags. So, he, with great show, slowly folded away the notebook and put it into his suit jacket.

  He eased himself up and made more show of standing up and taking off his suit jacket. In that moment Mags came along and brought him a plate loaded with chicken, salads, sliced tomatoes, a triangle of peach pie and a slice of pound cake.

  “You’re sure right about that,” Asa agreed. “Just the kind of day to enjoy this fine food and some time with your honey.” He draped a casual arm around Mags and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “No big deal.”

  “No big deal.” The older man smiled at him. “Mags is a fine woman—not a trouble maker like her older sister. A fine choice. We’ll be seeing you.” The two white men walked off and he let out a long breath. Along with everyone else. The startled look on Mags’s face at his kiss made him remove his arm from her, even though it felt right and good there.

  Now, she let out a long breath. “They never come back here. Ever.”

  “Really?”

  “This is our part. They must have known you were doing something. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. Now they know that you write down things.”

  “For the church paper,” Asa reassured her.

  Mags shook her head as John Bledsoe approached them. “They don’t believe what you said for one minute. No. They’ll be watching. They are always looking at us, ever since Ruby got arrested.”

  “She what?”

  “They arrested Ruby at the Independence Day celebration four years ago. She started reciting the Declaration of Independence along with the Reverend and they took her to prison. She didn’t stay in long ’cause Adam got her out.”

  “Yes, I gathered that she had gotten out at some point,” Asa joked, but Mags was not smiling.

  “I don’t like it, I don’t like it if they are looking at you.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders. “Mags. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Look, if it will make you feel better, I’ll keep my notebook out of sight and try to gather information by my mind. I’ll even do what I said and enjoy the day. Right?” He then realized that he was touching her right in her father’s presence and he took his hands off of her shoulders. “I apologize.”

  John waved a piece of chicken in understanding.

  Mags still looked uncertain. “That older sheriff is the same one who made sure Adam went on the chain gang when Paul Winslow was out of town. It took a while to get him off too. Ask him about it—it was not a good time.”

  “When I return to Pittsburgh, I will. It seems as if the Morsons were a bit more adventurous than we had ever thought they were.” He sat down and began to tuck into his plate. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry. I’m frightened.”

  He patted the bench next to him and she sat down, backwards, facing out while he ate facing inward. “I wouldn’t jeopardize you.”

  “What?”

  “Put you in any danger.”

  “It’s hard to know now what makes them mad. So many things are going on now, this summer.”

  John Bledsoe took the seat opposite them and nodded. “Heard there were two more attacks in Nolan and Branch Counties. There’s a lot going on here in Georgia that these white folks don’t seem to like. Least little thing sets them off.”

  “Maybe they haven’t had any of this good chicken that Mags can make.”

  John shook his head. “When are you supposed to be done with your assignment?”

  “Three more weeks, sir. Then I’ll be leaving for Pittsburgh on July 26th.” That wasn’t that far away, Asa reasoned as he chewed on a flavorful tomato. Would she come with him? “Are you going to come?”

  “I’m still thinking about it.”

  “You need t
o go on and help your sister.” John Bledsoe gestured with his hands. “I know that you won’t be chaperoned, but I trust this man. He’ll get you to your sister. Think of a way to stay on up there. I don’t know what Ruby and Adam can do for you at this point beyond giving you a place to stay, but they might know something. Go on to nursing school like Ruby did. You got your high school diploma, like her. You can do the same.”

  “I don’t want to nurse anyone.”

  Asa spoke up. “You can do lots of things. I don’t think that women can work in the mills up there, but your experience in the mill means you should be able to get something. Maybe domestic work.”

  A cloud came over John’s face as he made the suggestion and as soon as he did, he was sorry. He wanted to open his mouth to apologize, but it was full of peach pie, with its sweetness, crisp crust and sweet spices.

  John folded his arms. “My girls don’t do day work in no white man’s house. That’s why I been working like I have. It’s okay to do laundry—maybe there is something like that up there where she can bring it back to Ruby and Adam’s house, but more than that is too risky.”

  He understood. “If there was enough time, I would write my mother, and she might know of some opportunity in the church, but I couldn’t guarantee a response before it was time to leave.”

  “She can go on up there to help Ruby and figure it all out when she get up there.”

  Mags stood. “Glad that you all have this figured out. I have some things to accomplish here first.”

  “Well, according to your father,” he said wiping pie crust crumbs from his lips and moustache with a napkin, “you have three weeks to get it all together. And then we’re going.”

  “What if I have things to do here? What about that? In case it escaped your notice, I am almost twenty-one years old. I don’t need you to tell me what to do, I get enough of that at the mill. Once you are gone, I can have my job back and I can go back to earning five dollars a week and go back to helping my family.”