by Londyn Skye
Lily continued looking into James’s eyes for a moment longer as she absorbed his words. She then nervously surveyed the crowd again, and finally turned toward William.
“Come, come, Lily. It’ll be alright,” William reassured her as he extended his hand toward her. James then parted the crowd with his arm so that she could step through more easily. William smiled at her as she began to weave through the crowd toward him. He took her by the hand once she was standing next to the piano. “Everyone this is…”
“Is this the Negro girl you told me about?” Richard asked, rudely interrupting.
William was instantly aggravated by the demeaning way in which the word girl rolled off of Richard’s tongue. “Yes, this is Lily, the young lady I spoke to you about.”
“Oh, come on, William! You don’t really expect her to replay this piece, do you?” Richard fired back, a snobbish sneer on his face as he looked at Lily with disgust.
“Well, yes and no,” William answered.
“What in the devil is that supposed to mean? Either she will or she won’t,” Richard scoffed, in his snotty proper dialect.
Despite their longtime friendship, William was always annoyed by the arrogance in Richard’s tone. “Well, I don’t think that’s anything I can explain,” William replied, glaring at Richard with equal disgust. William then turned to look at Lily and gestured with his hand toward the piano bench, inviting her to sit down. “Lily, the floor is yours,” he said, wanting her to explain exactly what he meant, in a way that his words could not.
Lily sat down slowly while her eyes drifted across the sea of faces staring coldly back at her. She thought that she would never be able to focus on such an insurmountable task while sitting in the center of the room alone, feeling like a sheep surrounded by lions. But she suddenly found a pair of striking blue eyes in the crowd that were tenderly gazing at her. As always, James’s gaze instantly gave her the comfort and peace that she needed. And, as always, she found it nearly impossible to turn away from him. I believe in you, she could hear him saying again in her mind as she gazed back at him. Those four words had resonated far deeper in her than he probably realized. The impact suddenly made her feel as though she was born to command crowds with the grand instrument before her.
James nodded at Lily as another small gesture of his support. His nod finally broke her trance. Lily nodded back and then exhaled. With her body and mind now relaxed, she closed her eyes and began. From the very first strike of the piano keys, the submissive mannerisms typical of a slave faded away from Lily and gave way to the elegant dances of a woman who had just been freed. Gracefully, she swayed through the delicate notes of the song. Harshly, she pounded the keys through the portions that were more aggressive. Her theatrics made it seem as though Lily had morphed into another person altogether. Her closed eyes and the expressions on her face made it clear that she had mentally transported herself into another world. Her mental world was far more beautiful than the one in which Richard was currently glaring at her with disgust and envy for the way she was easily replicating his song in her own unique way. William snickered at the look on Richard’s face, then turned and smiled proudly at Lily, just as James was currently doing. In fact, James could not bear to take his eyes off of her, much like everyone else in the room.
The precision of Lily’s memory proved to be uncanny, as usual. She could have easily replayed Richard’s complicated song note for note. But her musical instincts naturally motivated her to infuse an array of beautiful runs into the dull portions of his piece, bringing life to the blander verses. Her manipulation of the song created a sound that was uncommon to classical music. Eyes were unblinking, and mouths were agape as the crowd listened intently to a rhythm that was so foreign to the era. They seemed utterly hypnotized by not only her ability to mimic but by her spontaneous creativity and brilliance. It was that particular authenticity that gave clarity to Richard’s question in a way that William felt his words could not. It was also the sole quality that William had hoped Lily would share with all the men who had denied her the opportunity to work for them as a musician.
William proved to everyone how easily Lily could replay a piece she had never heard, but he also knew that she was not just restricted to copying the play of others. It had recently become William’s ritual to play piano with Lily every morning. He had since learned that dozens of songs were alive in Lily’s genius mind. Many of her songs were born from a wide array of her life experiences, from the sweet memory of her little turtle, to the simple light and airy emotions she felt when listening to birds sing, to deep and heartfelt arrangements inspired by the trauma of past pains. William was well aware of that side of Lily’s talent but wanted to bring that to light later when he felt it was more necessary. For now, he wanted to win over his former colleagues with her innate ability to memorize, improvise, and manipulate the most difficult arrangements, as if it were child’s play. However, he would be forced to wait and see in the days that followed whether or not her crowd-silencing, flawless performance had done just that.
Chapter Nine
Slave Code
Article V Section II
Any free Negro intermarrying with any white person shall become a slave for life, and any white man or woman intermarrying with any Negro shall become a servant for seven years, to be disposed of at the discretion of the court.
William sat in his den with his hands clasped together on top of his desk. He was as still as a stone statue, staring blankly across the room at nothing in particular. His frustrations were rampant on his mind and had cast him into a hypnotic trance of sorts. He had not even gotten up the energy to play piano alongside Lily this particular morning, which was something they had both come to look forward to on a daily basis.
“William, you alright?” James asked, after stepping into his den unannounced. The fact that he just woke up was apparent by his scratchy voice and his disheveled hair. He had not been awakened early by the sound of piano music as he had in the previous weeks. “I saw Lily in the kitchen a moment ago, but she said she hadn’t seen you this mornin’.”
William was still silent and continued staring blankly at nothing. By his lack of reaction, James wondered if he had even heard him at all. Out of the blue, William finally spoke, but it was like he was talking to an imaginary person in the room. “Why does it matter so much to people?” he asked, still not bothering to look in James’s vicinity.
James was confused for a moment but then realized that William was not replying to his question. “Why does what matta’?”
“Who we are? I just don’t understand it. Why does it matter so much to people?” William finally blinked for the first time since James entered the room. He then turned to look at James with puzzled eyes, like he hoped that he really did hold the answer to his question.
“William, I’m sorry, but I’m not followin’ you,” James replied, trying to make his groggy mind comprehend where he was going with the statement.
William got up from his chair and walked over to a wall that had a portrait of his deceased wife hanging on it. When he looked at her, images of his wedding day began erupting in his mind. He suddenly closed his eyes to see it more vividly, hoping to feel like he was reliving the day all over again. He opened his eyes when the imagery faded and said with great reluctance, “Let’s face it, James, nobody is going to be bold enough to pay to see a Negro woman perform.” William still did not dare to remove his eyes from his beautiful wife’s picture. “It doesn’t matter how phenomenal she is, all people will ever care about is who Lily is.”
William’s natural jubilant outlook was undoubtedly absent. It was the first time that James had ever heard defeat in his voice. He suddenly worried that William was truly on the verge of giving up for good this time. Giving up easily was something he never would have expected from a man like William; however, James understood where his doubts were coming from. It had been well over a week, and not one single guest from the fundraiser had bothered to o
ffer Lily a chance to breathe life into their venues, the way William was confident she could. Despite her talent, it seemed that nobody was willing to overlook who she was.
“But…” William began.
“But what?” James replied.
“There is something in me that just won’t allow me to give up,” William confessed, his eyes still transfixed on his wife.
His words were something James understood all too well. That same unexplainable something had been swirling inside of him since the moment he found out that Lily could play. “I know exactly how you feel. But what do we do now?”
“Since the bigger concern for people is about who they are paying to see perform, I do have another idea,” William continued.
It was then that James finally felt himself awaken fully. William may have sounded down, but James appreciated that his willpower to help Lily was still thriving.
“Will you talk to Lily about something for me?” William asked.
“Sure, of course. Anything.”
William asked James to close the door and then proceeded to explain what he had in mind.
* * * *
Not long after his conversation with James, William sat down near the tombstone of his beloved wife, Emma. He had buried her on his estate next to her cherished garden, so that she would never be too far away from him. When she was alive, Emma had truly been William’s best friend and most loyal confidant. They told each other everything, never holding back about even the darkest of secrets. Even after her death, confiding in his wife was a ritual that William refused to part ways with. Every Sunday, he would sit on a stone bench near her tombstone and talk aloud to her about everything on his mind. This particular Sunday, he admitted being angry about the fact that the color of skin was superseding the talents of a woman whom he felt was far superior to him on the piano.
The fact that William was one-of-a-kind in a world that judged heavily on complexion and status was the quality that Emma found the most endearing about him when they first met. William’s efforts to abolish slavery, and his compassion for people from all walks of life, immediately earned her love and respect, especially since his passions, beliefs, and desires were similar to hers. As a united front, they worked together to help obliterate popular degrading immoral practices in America. Their philanthropic quest strengthened their bond and ignited a blissful romance that led to marriage and the birth of their two sons.
After thirty-five years of marriage, Emma became seriously ill. It was then that William retired from Ohio University. He wanted to spend every day by his wife’s side, trying all that he could to get her well. But his efforts were in vain. For two years, he watched as a bizarre illness slowly withered the love of his life away into only a shell of a person. But day after day, William was there to tend to her needs and talk with her about the most memorable moments of their lives. Despite him sharing such beautiful stories, the memories of the life they had built together faded away from Emma’s mind completely, along with the mental burdens of the dark secrets in her life that she had openly shared with William throughout the years. It was a painful thing for him to witness and even harder for him to accept. But, at the very moment that Emma drew her last breath, William was there holding her hand, tearfully telling her how much he loved her, and thanking her for all the years of joy she had brought into his life.
Even after two years, the death of his beloved wife was still just as fresh to William as the day she passed away. It caused him to lose his zest for life and destroyed his desire to write, play, and even listen to music. It was the sole reason why William was so reluctant to assist when James first approached him for help. But the passion with which James spoke about Lily quickly changed his mind. It reminded him of the passion that he always exuded whenever he talked about Emma. That factor alone persuaded him to find the strength to assist a young lady who sparked such emotion from a man.
The morning after Lily’s arrival was William’s very first day back on the piano since his wife’s passing. At the time, he felt like he had to push himself to strike every key. But it was not long after working with Lily that he found that dark hole between music and his desire to play starting to fill itself. As the hole began to fill, William was suddenly overcome by the feeling that everything that had happened in his life was for a much grander reason. He began to believe that his musical ability, his job at Ohio University, and his unique marriage had all finally led him to his ultimate purpose: dedicating the last years of his life to helping present one of God’s precious gifts to the world. If Lily so chose, William was suddenly willing to risk all that he had, including his life, to do just that.
In many ways, William felt that helping Lily would be a way to honor his wife and her strong opposition to slavery. He truly believed that it would be people like Lily that could lead the misguided to see that Negros were worthy of far more than a life of oppression, that it would be people like her that would slowly drive the world to be a place where no other human would have to be ashamed of the skin they were born in, the way Emma had always dreamed. William was not foolish enough to think that Lily would single-handedly put an end to hatred or slavery, but he certainly believed, much like James, that people were not handed special gifts from God without purpose. He believed that Lily was one of many special humans that God would send in His good name to assist in mending a broken society. Simply put, William was convinced that Lily and her unique gifts were invaluable to the world. So, despite the current frustrations that he was sharing with his beautiful wife, there was not an ounce of him that thought to give up. In William’s mind, doing so would be parallel to giving up on God’s request for his help.
It was all of those matters that William sat speaking to his wife about on this Sunday to help ease his mind. And ease him it did, but more so because of how strongly he always felt the presence of Emma’s spirit there with him in the midst of her extravagant flower garden. William could easily sit there with her for hours and even then find it nearly impossible to walk away. Before summoning the strength to leave, he would always place a handful of fresh, pure white lilies—Emma’s favorite flower—in a marble vase near her headstone. In William’s mind, the coincidence of the name of his wife’s favorite flower was yet another sign that helping Lily was truly a part of his destiny. After arranging the bouquet neatly, William kissed his hand and touched it to his wife’s tombstone. “I love you, Em,” he whispered as his tears dripped down onto one of her precious lilies.
* * * *
“I hate to break it to ya’, but you won’t find Wilbur anywhere out here,” James said to Lily, picking up a rock and skipping it across the lake on William’s plantation. He had quietly walked up behind her as she stood there alone staring out at the water. He had not startled her, though; she had sensed his presence long before he said a word.
“Ol’ Wilbur. World’s fattest turtle,” Lily replied, a smile creeping onto her face.
“What did you expect? You gave that turtle more crickets in a day than he could eat in a lifetime,” James reminded her.
“I can’t help that I’s always betta’ at catchin’ crickets than you,” she teased. “You still had a small hand in fattenin’ ’em up too, ya’ know … very small, I might add.”
“I admit, I could neva’ hold a candle to the greatest cricket catcher alive.”
They both laughed lightly afterwards. Their lighthearted banter made James realize how much he had missed this playful side of Lily.
James’s silence in the previous weeks was partly due to his effort to keep the secret about the true mission of their journey. But majority of it had to do with him feeling overwhelmed with where to begin again with Lily after so many rocky years between them. He could easily sense Lily’s discomfort whenever she was in his presence; it made him even more anxious about what he could possibly say that would ease the tension between them. He was, therefore, glad that William had requested for him to speak to Lily. It finally gave him a good reason to
force himself to overcome his apprehension and approach her. So far it seemed that he had chosen the right topic to begin with. He was happy to see how receptive Lily was to his initial comment about Wilbur and even happier to know that he, for once, had given her a reason to smile. Such a simple thing had instantly uplifted him and eased his nervousness.
But Lily’s smile would not last for long. She turned back toward the water and folded her arms across her chest after their shared memory. “May sound strange, but I sho’ do miss my ol’ friend,” she said, continuing to stare out into the water. The smile faded from her face, and she was serious all over again. Her tone of voice and her body language told James that she had put the brick back into place that he had just taken down from the protective emotional wall she had erected around herself.
James slid his hands into his pockets, the way he always did when he felt uneasy. He was silent for a moment while he stared at the profile of Lily’s face. “Me too,” he admitted, knowing full well they were no longer speaking about their old turtle.
The sound of Lily’s voice, her laughter, and the sight of her smile were things that had not faded from James’s memory while he was away at school. Their playful banter immediately reminded him why he had desperately missed such small sentimental things while they were apart. It further motivated him to finally put an end to this extreme awkwardness between them. One by one, he was ready to carefully begin removing the bricks from Lily’s protective emotional wall. He quickly thought of something to say before the cement cured around the brick she had just put back into place. “This is the second time I’ve seen you standin’ here at the lake this week. Where’s your mind run off to when you’re out here all by yourself?” he asked, turning to stare out at the lake along with her.
