Glimmers of Change

by Ginny Dye

  “You don’t think there will be any on the streets of Philadelphia?” Rose teased.

  Carrie tried to smile but failed. “Remember all the days we spent in this very clearing when we were growing up?”

  Rose smiled. “How could I forget? It was my favorite place in the world. It’s why I buried Mama here.” She gazed around. “When it was just the two of us playing in this clearing, I used to pretend I wasn’t a slave and that I could make decisions just like you did.”

  Carrie grabbed her hand. “And now you can.”

  Now it was Rose’s smile that fell short. “Is it okay to wish it were easier?”

  Carrie nodded. “It is. I wish you and Moses didn’t have to fight so hard for everything. I wish life was going to be easier for John and Hope.” She shook her head firmly. “It’s getting better, Rose. Congress overrode President Johnson’s veto. The Civil Rights Act passed. Congress is working hard to make things better. New schools are opening for blacks. Even colleges are being founded. The first southern black college was founded in Raleigh, North Carolina last year.”

  Rose chuckled. “I bet Clifford loved that.”

  Carrie grinned and then sobered. “There are people fighting for black rights everywhere.” She paused. “Janie told me something in her last letter that I didn’t know about. Did you know there is a black university in Philadelphia?”

  Rose nodded. “I learned a little about it when I was at the Quaker School.”

  “They train teachers,” Carrie added.

  “I know.” Rose smiled, reading her thoughts. “You’re thinking it would be perfect if we could both be in school at the same time in Philadelphia.”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” Carrie admitted.

  Rose sighed. “I’ve thought about it every day since you got accepted into medical school. Moses isn’t ready.” She fought the surge of resentment and restlessness that surged up in here. “I have to be patient,” she whispered.

  “Something neither one of us is very good at,” Carrie said sympathetically.

  Rose nodded. “I’m not very good at it, but I love my husband. I love my children. I love my school.” Her voice grew stronger as she stared at the still tightly furled wisteria blooms, smelling the fragrance already filling the air. “It may not be time for me to go to college, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be happy right here. I just have to choose to be.” She heard the desperation in her voice. She whirled around and grabbed Carrie in a big hug. “I refuse to be unhappy. I refuse to be jealous. I can’t choose when I go to school, but I can choose everything else.”

  Carrie held her tightly. “I’ll send you every book I can get my hands on. And I’ll write you every week.” Her voice broke slightly. “I love you, Rose Samuels.”

  “And I love you, Carrie Borden,” Rose responded. She stepped back. “We’ve already broken our promise to Robert about coming back quickly. We’d better get back to the house so you two can leave. It’s not safe to be on the road to Richmond in the dark.”

  The two women walked back through the woods in silence. Everything that needed to be said had been said.

  Abby slid her arm around Carrie’s waist as the train moved slowly away from the Richmond station. “Are you okay?” she asked tenderly.

  Carrie blinked back her tears as Robert waved his hand one last time. She lifted hers in return until the train rounded the bend, and then she slowly lowered it. After years of dreaming and hoping, and after months of preparing, she was actually on her way to medical school. To have Abby with her was more than she could have hoped for. “I still can’t believe you’re with me.”

  Abby smiled. “I’m so looking forward to going to the Women’s Rights Convention in New York City. It will be wonderful to be with my friends the Stratfords again.”

  “You haven’t been back since the riots three years ago, have you?”

  Abby shook her head. “The war kept me too busy, and we put all women’s rights issues on hold until after the war. This will be the first official meeting since the war ended. Mostly, I’m just glad to get away from the factory for a little while. All the extra guards are driving me crazy. I can’t move without someone watching me or going with me.”

  “Father is worried about you,” Carrie responded. “As he should be. Jeremy told me about what happened.”

  “I told you what happened,” Abby protested.

  Carrie lifted a brow. “You told me the cleaned up version. I knew Jeremy would tell me the truth…which he got straight from Spencer.”

  Abby shrugged as her lips twitched. “I wasn’t harmed.”

  “This time,” Carrie scolded.

  Abby stared at her. “You’re hardly the one to speak, daughter dearest,” she said lightly. “Just who was it that tempted bands of men by going to the black hospital?”

  Carrie chuckled. “So you talk to Spencer, too. I guess we both have our stories.”

  “And we both are determined to do what we have to do, regardless of how other people respond to it.”

  “But surely you understand why Father has posted extra guards around the factory,” Carrie protested.

  “Certainly,” Abby said calmly. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Any more than you liked having Hobbs accompany you everywhere you went during the war once Robert discovered what had happened.”

  Carrie laughed. “Point made,” she said cheerfully. “But it’s all a moot point right now. Right this moment we are two independent women on their way to Philadelphia. I’m so pleased you’ll be there for five days before you head to New York.” Memories assailed her suddenly, causing her smile to fade.

  “Carrie?” Abby’s voice was concerned.

  “Do you realize it’s been five years since we were together in Philadelphia for the first time?” Her mind rolled back to the first day she had met the slender, gray-eyed woman who was now her stepmother.

  “We’ve lived a lifetime in those five years,” Abby said softly. “We think we have the future all figured out and then life takes over. All any of us can really do is simply go from one day to the next, trying to do the best we can. I still make plans, but I’ve gotten better about going with the flow when everything I’ve planned completely shifts.”

  “That’s the secret isn’t it?” Carrie asked.

  Abby smiled. “The secret to peace? Yes,” she agreed. “The older I’ve gotten, the more I realize every day, every single moment is simply a piece to a puzzle. I look for where something fits, but I have no idea of the entire picture. I just keep trying to fit pieces. When I insist on seeing the whole picture, I just end up frustrated.”

  The train picked up speed, swaying as it chugged down the track. Deer stood poised at the edge of the woods, watching them with wide eyes before springing away. Fluffy cumulus clouds decorated the sky with shifting shapes.

  “I can’t wait to see Janie,” Carrie said, her thoughts spinning forward to her new life in Philadelphia.

  “And I’m sure she’s counting the minutes,” Abby assured her. “Now, my dear, you didn’t answer my question back there,” she said gently.

  “Which one was that?” Carrie pretended ignorance, but she knew what Abby was referring to. She just had no clue how to respond.

  The look in Abby’s eyes said she recognized the pretense. “I asked you if you’re okay with leaving Robert.”

  Carrie frowned when tears filled her eyes. “Don’t you get tired of me crying?”

  “Why would I get tired of you crying?” Abby asked in astonishment.

  “I’m supposed to be a strong, independent woman,” Carrie responded. “Shouldn’t that bring with it a certain toughness that would preclude crying so much?”

  “Do you think it should?” Abby asked carefully.

  Carrie laughed suddenly. “I feel like it’s five years ago and I’m eighteen again. You always just asked me questions back then, too.”

  Abby smiled, but her gaze was steady. “I really want to know. Do you think being strong and
independent means you shouldn’t cry? Do you want to be tough?”

  Carrie considered the question. Finally she shook her head. “I know tough women,” she said. “I don’t really want to be like them.”

  “Do you think the tough women you know don’t have feelings?”

  Carrie thought carefully, sensing this was an important discussion. “I think everyone has feelings,” she finally said. “I think they’ve just learned how to not show them.”

  “Why do you suppose that is?”

  Carrie shook her head, suddenly impatient with the questions. “Does it matter?”

  Abby narrowed her eyes. “I think it is.”

  Now it was Carrie’s turn to ask the questions. “Why?”

  Abby chuckled. “Turning the tables on me, are you?” Her expression turned serious. “I do think it matters. I’ve watched so many women become tough and hard. At first I thought it was a necessary part of being strong and independent, or just an expected result of going through horrible times, but the more time I spent with those women, the more I realized I didn’t want to live that way. I didn’t want to shut down my emotions, and I didn’t want to carry the guilt that tears are a sign of weakness.”

  “So you don’t think they are?” Carrie was suddenly relieved.

  “I think they’re a sign of strength,” Abby declared, laughing at Carrie’s astonished expression. “Women have always cried more easily than men. I prefer to think it’s because we are tenderer inside. Being strong and independent doesn’t change that tenderness unless we let it. I want to live my life freely as a woman, not try to become a man in order to make my life easier. I believe that is the whole point of fighting for women’s rights. It’s not just about getting the vote,” she said, and then paused, staring out over the countryside. “It’s about the right to live as a woman the way I want to live.”

  Carrie stared at her. “You’ve thought about this a great deal,” she realized.

  “I have,” Abby agreed. “I love the fact that your heart feels deeply enough to shed tears. You and Rose have both kept that ability, even after all the horror you went through in the war. So many others have shut down their emotions because they believe it will protect them from pain.”

  “But it doesn’t,” Carrie murmured.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Abby said softly. “You are getting ready to live your dream, but it is also going to carry pain. You’re going to miss Robert every day. You’re going to miss Rose and Moses. You’re going to miss the plantation. You’re going to miss the freedom to run Granite down the roads. You’re going to miss driving into Richmond to visit your father and me.”

  Carrie blinked tears again, but this time she didn’t brush them away. “I will miss it all,” she said softly.

  “It’s okay to feel it,” Abby said. “I already know you’ll push through the pain to make the most of this new time in your life. There is no need to harden yourself. You may cry yourself to sleep a lot, but that’s okay — even for a woman doctor.”

  Carrie sighed and tightened her arm around Abby. “I am so grateful for you, you know.”

  “No more grateful than I am for you,” Abby assured her. “You can be certain I’ll find every possible excuse to visit Philadelphia so I can see you.”

  Philadelphia had suffered a brutal winter, but spring had erased all evidence. Carrie and Abby peered out the windows as they neared the Philadelphia station. Flowers bloomed in wild profusion from the window boxes on multi-storied brick homes. Oak limbs, clothed in bright green leaves, waved in the light breeze. Cherry trees sporting clumps of lustrous white blooms decorated the roadways and yards. Horses, delighted to be rid of the icy snow, pranced lightly as they pulled their carriages. Smiles were on almost every face.

  Carrie’s excitement dimmed as she thought of the restaurant explosion that had taken Sadie, Sadie Lou, Susie, and Zeke. She had seen Opal, Eddie, Amber, and Carl for a short time before she left. She knew they were doing well and thriving, but she could still see the shadow of sadness lurking in their eyes. She knew it would be there for a long time.

  She sat back for the last minutes of the train ride, watching as the residential area faded away into an industrial area belching black smoke into the clear air. When the station appeared, there was a large crowd of people waiting for the passengers. Carrie peered through the crowd, searching for Janie.

  “Carrie! Abby!”

  Carrie spotted Janie jumping up and down, waving her arms frantically, a big smile on her face. “Janie!” she cried, leaning out the window to return the wave. Everything slipped away as she recognized the beginning of a brand new life. She waited impatiently for the train to grind to a halt and then leaped off the steps. Moments later she was in Janie’s arms, happy tears streaming down both their faces.

  “You’re here! You’re finally here!” Janie laughed through her tears. “It seems like forever since I saw you in December.” She broke away from Carrie to give Abby a huge hug and then tugged them toward three women watching the reunion with broad smiles. “Come meet your housemates.”

  Carrie was delighted to meet Elizabeth, Alice, and Florence and found herself immediately attracted to the strength and compassion she saw shining in all their eyes.

  Florence tucked Carrie’s hand in her arm and led the group toward the baggage platform. “I’m quite glad to see you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us. Janie extols your virtues so often I think we were all a little afraid to meet you,” she said mischievously, her blue eyes sparkling with fun.

  “You may be quite appalled to find out just how human I am,” Carrie said cheerfully. A feeling of joy surged up in her so strongly it made her gasp.

  “Carrie?” Janie asked, her face suddenly concerned. “Are you alright?”

  Carrie stared at her, the joy pulsing in her heart. Suddenly, in spite of the fact that she was in the middle of a busy train station in sophisticated Philadelphia, she dropped her small suitcase and did a twirl on the platform, her arms raised to the sky. “I am so very happy to be here,” she sang, laughing at the startled looks on the faces around her. Passing women stared at her as men cast baleful glares, aghast she was ignoring the protocols of proper female behavior. Carrie laughed even harder. Nothing mattered except the overwhelming feeling that after so many years of dreaming, hoping, and continual disappointment, she was actually about to start medical school.

  After a moment of shocked silence, Florence added her own laughter and then grabbed Carrie’s hands and did another twirl with her. “Come dance with us,” she called to the other women. “We’ve already destroyed every societal norm by being in medical school. What’s one more?”

  Carrie watched in stunned disbelief as Abby, Janie, Elizabeth, and Alice surrounded them, grabbed hands, and then spun in a circle around them, laughter ringing through the air.

  Abby smiled with appreciation as she entered her home, lifting her nose to sniff. “Do I smell soup?”

  “Beef vegetable,” Alice responded.

  “And bread?” Carrie asked hopefully, her stomach growling with hunger.

  “Four loaves put on the counter just before we left,” Florence assured her.

  Carrie pretended to swoon.

  Janie laughed and carried one of her bags toward the stairs. “Let’s get you and Aunt Abby settled before we eat.”

  Carrie nodded. “I’ll unpack after dinner or in the morning. I tried not to bring too much.”

  Florence eyed the stack of suitcases. “If that’s not too much, I would hate to see what too much is!”

  Janie waved her hand. “I saw the look on the carriage driver’s face when he picked them up.” She turned to look at Carrie. “If I’m not mistaken, most of those suitcases are full of books.”

  “Guilty,” Carrie responded lightly.

  Florence groaned. “Janie was right then. You really are a paragon of virtue.” She stared at the stack of suitcases, a look of dramatic dismay on her face. “You seriously have spent the last five ye
ars studying medicine?”

  Carrie smiled and shrugged. “I find I’m rather passionate,” she admitted.

  “And you actually did surgery and served as a doctor during the war?” Elizabeth asked. “Janie didn’t make that up?”

  Carrie flushed with embarrassment. “I was an assistant,” she replied modestly.

  “An assistant who actually assisted in surgeries and did work on her own when Dr. Wild wasn’t around? An assistant who helped thousands of men that would have been without medication if you hadn’t known herbal medicine that you learned from a slave on the plantation where you let all the slaves escape?” Alice demanded.

  Carrie laughed helplessly. “I’m not sure how to answer.”

  “Honestly,” Abby said firmly, stepping forward to put an arm around her waist. “You did all those things, Carrie. To try to pretend your experience was less than it was does nothing to promote the equality of women in this country. False modesty is a pointless virtue in my opinion.”

  Astonished silence fell on the room.

  Abby smiled calmly. “I’m sorry to shock you, but I won’t apologize for speaking the truth. I’m afraid my time in the South has made me even more impatient with women who refuse to do anything more than be what people expect them to be.”

  Florence found her voice first. “You mean who men expect them to be,” she said boldly. “You didn’t shock us, Mrs. Cromwell, you awed us. We sometimes forget there are other women fighting the same battle we are. The struggle is sometimes very tiresome.”

  “You must call me Abby,” Abby said quickly, and then grabbed one of Florence’s hands. “And you wouldn’t believe how many women are fighting this battle with you. You are most certainly not alone. The fight for women’s equality took a back seat during the war, but it is coming front and center again. That’s why I’m here. After a few days in Philadelphia, I’m headed to New York for the Eleventh National Women’s Rights Convention.”