My Water Path

by Timothy Joseph

I need you, Moses, I thought, suddenly so scared. Don’t let me go, please.

  Moses said, “I know. I love you too, child.”

  26

  Downright Stupid

  I FOUND OUR SCHOOLING to be easy, and when he’d let me, I would help Mayhew as much as I could. Lucilla was smart and always finished with her schoolwork way ahead of us. Bess and Moses shared the

  responsibilities of our schooling when we didn’t go in, and both were strict on keeping up with our lessons and homework.

  We had been to town many times, and a routine was setting in on shopping for food, gas, and kerosene. We had been to see Jacob and Max a few times as well. It was Saturday and Moses was on the back deck working the big wheel of the stone grinder with his feet, sharpening an ax. We asked him if it was okay if we took the bike to town to see Jacob. We were surprised when he answered, “Why sure, but why don’t you take the skiff? Be much faster.”

  “You mean it, Papa?” Mayhew asked, all excited.

  “You boys are capable. Just be careful, and do me one favor. When you get the motor wide open, back off a quarter throttle so not to push her; she is old, so back her down. Will you do that for me?”

  “Yeah, Papa, we promise.”

  “I’m putting Jory in charge, only because he has a lot more experience, okay, Mayhew?”

  “Sure, Papa. Thank you.”

  Mayhew untied the boat and we headed to the dock, hoping Jacob would be there. Mayhew was all smiles as the two of us struck out on our own. I pointed to the area where Jacob and Max worked and, sure enough, there was a big tug tied up. I told Mayhew to slow way down and idle in. When we got close, I told him to put it in neutral.

  “Jacob!”

  A head popped up and Jacob waved. “Looking like you changed the bike to a boat. Good idea. Toss me the line.”

  Mayhew killed the motor and I tossed the rope to Jacob. Standing up, leaning against the hull of the tug, the gunnel was still way out of reach. Jacob reached down. “Grab hold of my wrist.

  He pulled us both aboard. “’Bout time you got here. Need help with this ornery lady.”

  Max smiled. “Howdy, boys. Good of yous to come by and give us a hand. This gal’s indeed an ornery old lady.”

  After showing us the huge, old diesel engine, and doing a little work, we stopped for lunch. “Need to feed my workers,” Jacob announced. “How many hotdogs can you boys eat?”

  Mayhew said, “Two for me.”

  “I only need one,” I said, and asked, “Jacob, do you have a gas can I can borrow? I’d like to fill the boat tank for Moses. It’s less than half full.”

  “Why surely. Max, you go get the hotdogs, three for each of us, take Mayhew, and we’ll go get the gas.”

  They left and Jacob grabbed an empty container. He handed it to me and we headed down the street to the station.

  “Jory, are you living with Mayhew and Moses?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you go to school?”

  I told him about my arrangements, and he made a noise of surprise. “My goodness, you’re going to a colored school?”

  “Yup, and everyone is so nice. I really like it. And we do a lot at home, too, because we can’t go in every day.”

  “I don’t know, boy. If anyone white learns about it, they may try to find out why you’re living with colored folk and where you really belong.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cuz lots of white folk don’t take a liking to colored people. You know that.”

  “But every colored person I’ve met has been nice.”

  “There’s a lot of downright stupid white folk, Jory. I’d rather deal with a Negro any day of the week.”

  “I just don’t understand why people feel that way.”

  “’Cuz most people aren’t like you.”

  I filled the tank in the boat with gas, and we all ate our hotdogs and drank the sodas. Jacob mentioned we needed to spar a bit so I didn’t forget the important moves for protecting myself. He asked Max to show Mayhew a few things, though we knew it wouldn’t do much good. When Jacob got me into a headlock because I took too much time to think, he released me and explained the problem. He reminded me why I needed to maintain my technique. “Jory, just remember, you have a Negro as a best friend. This is going to make you a target, just like it did the last time. You need to keep your guard up.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied.

  We waved goodbye to Jacob and Max as we pulled away from the tugboat. “Don’t be so long coming back,” Jacob shouted.

  27

  First Kiss

  LUCILLA WAS SHOWING ME how to blend different colors from the colored pencils to make different shades and effects. She had drawn an owl, was coloring it with the pencils, and it looked real. I was trying to draw a flower, and Lucilla was kind with her instruction while helping me add color.

  “This is terrible,” I said. “How do you do it? Look at that owl. This doesn't look anything like a flower. A three-year-old could have done better.”

  She laughed. "It looks nice. Don't be so rigid with your hand when you draw. Let it relax. Don't always have a solid line. Kinda brush on a line, back and forth a bit, like this."

  Lucilla took my hand with the pencil and moved it back and forth over the paper, making a flower petal with only a few strokes. It wasn't a single sharp line as I had drawn. She made another petal outline, and another, then the center of the flower. It was really good.

  “See?” she said. “Like that. Just paint it instead of drawing it. Don't keep your pencil on the paper, think of it as a brush.”

  She realized she was still holding my hand and quickly let go, embarrassed.

  “I just drew my first real flower,” I said jokingly. “Well, we just drew it.”

  I smiled at her, but she gazed down at her owl.

  “Thank you, Lucilla. I had no idea how to do that.”

  She smiled. “It's really pretty easy.”

  “For you, maybe, but I'll never be able to draw that good.”

  She worked on her owl and I tried to draw another flower. After a minute or two of quiet, I looked at her pretty face, her smooth skin, her sparkling eyes, and saw a girl I liked a lot. She glanced at me, then quickly back down at her paper. It occurred to me that I did not see the dark skin of a colored girl, only a girl. I liked everything about her, including her color. If I didn’t have any problem with it, why should anyone else?

  * * *

  The three of us were working on our book reports for school. Lucilla and I usually picked out the same book and enjoyed doing our reports together. Mayhew didn't like reading, and book reports were a pain for him. As usual, Lucilla and I sat at the kitchen table, working together side by side, nearly touching; everyone else was in the living room.

  Lucilla giggled. “What?” I said.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  She looked at the book. “Do you think I should put in my report about the first time she ever kissed a boy?”

  “Sure! It really meant a lot to her. Remember, she thought she committed a sin because of her parents. Can you imagine thinking a kiss is a sin?”

  “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

  “Well…uh…no. Have you? I mean, a boy?”

  “Gosh, no! No boy would want to kiss me.”

  I did. “Why do you think that? Sure they would—any boy with any sense, that is.”

  “No, they wouldn’t.”

  I took a deep breath. “Well, I sure would.”

  “If you were colored, maybe.”

  “No.”

  Lucilla looked up from her paper. Our eyes met. Without even thinking, I closed the short distance between our faces and kissed her. When my lips touched hers, she kissed me back.

  She quickly looked back at her book report—I looked at mine. I glanced at her, amazed that I had actually done it, and I worried what she was thinking. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Oh, golly… No… No.”

>   We flipped the pages of the book, wrote things in our reports, and sipped our hot tea. I swallowed and put my hand on Lucilla’s, saying, “I’m really glad my first kiss was with you.”

  “Me too.”

  Bess walked into the kitchen for more hot water, saying, “You two learning anything?”

  We looked at each other, smiled, and Lucilla replied, “Yes, Grandma, we sure are.”

  28

  Time Travel

  IT SEEMED AS IF OUR SECOND CHRISTMAS came and went in a flash. This time, I included Jacob and Max for gifts, a shiny new pocketknife for each of them, and they nearly tossed me off the tug when I presented them.

  Jacob had warned me early on about being seen with Mayhew. “Be great friends,” he said, “but when you’re in town, keep your distance.”

  The first time I saw him after he and Max came to our rescue in the alley, he told me the facts of society. He explained that, as much as I loved my new family, when in town, I should never walk with them to the grocery store, or be seen with them. “You stick out like a hemorrhoid on a tug,” he said, whatever that meant.

  For the most part, I followed his warning, but once in a while, I forgot. I didn’t care one bit what people might think, but then I’d realize that if people put two and two together, they might try to take me away from my family. That thought drove chills through me every time it came into my head. We talked about it one night at dinner, and Moses said Jacob was absolutely right.

  Time seemed to travel faster than it should. I saw so much maturing in Mayhew, and Lucilla got prettier and prettier every month. I couldn’t wait to be eighteen so I could do what I want and not worry about being discovered, but that was a long way off.

  My constant worry was that the cops would find out the truth, so I was always watching my back when I was in town, and if I saw a police car, I’d instantly vanish. When I was at the dock with Jacob and Max, they were great sentinels. Several times, they yelled for me to take cover. I would drop to the deck and crawl to the hatch and disappear inside the tug.

  29

  Captured

  IT WAS GETTING QUITE COLD, especially at night, but the little potbellied stove in the living room and the cook stove in the kitchen kept us nice and warm. Mayhew and I shared the chore of keeping the bin filled with split wood, and the coal bucket filled with coal. Moses told me that if he used only coal, it would get too hot for the potbellied stove. Sometimes when he returned in the boat from picking up and dropping

  off saws, the boat would be filled with firewood and buckets of coal. He said it was as good as being paid with money.

  The old potbellied stove in the school, ten times bigger than the one at home, was everyone’s best friend, too, and no one wanted to go outside at recess because of the cold.

  We were working on arithmetic when we heard the door of the church open. In walked two police officers. They looked around and focused on me as the teacher hurried to see what they wanted. We watched as they talked. Miss Lucy turned, looked at me, and waved for me to come over. I remembered what Jacob had said, and I knew I was in trouble.

  Looking angry, the fat officer asked, “What’s your name, and where do you live, boy?”

  My heart pounded as my mind raced for an acceptable answer. Jacob had made it clear that living with a colored family was out of the question. “I’m Jory Pilcher. I live with my uncle, Jacob Pilcher, but I stay a lot with my friend, because my uncle works a lot.”

  The policeman who spoke wiggled a nasty cigar from one side of his mouth to the other as if it was his prime talent in life. He somehow rolled it back to where it was, as if to tell me I best listen up. “You be coming with me. We’ll figure this out. You ain’t supposed to be here.”

  “He’s welcome here,” Ms. Lucy said in a gentle voice.

  “You can’t teach no white boy nothin’. Now you get your coat, boy.”

  I went to my chair. “Lucilla, tell Grandpa he needs to have Mayhew take him to Jacob, fast. Tell him I said Jacob was my uncle and I live with him but I stay with Mayhew. He needs to tell Jacob so we get the story right.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m scared.”

  “Moses has to get to Jacob before the police do.”

  “But we can’t get to Papa before he picks us up.”

  I couldn’t answer that—my time was up. Mayhew’s face spelled panic. I winked at him, pretending to be strong. “See you later,” I said.

  They put me in the back of the police car and headed away from the school. “What you be doing at a colored school, boy?” the man asked. “Don’t you know any better than that?”

  “I like it there.”

  “You got a white school to go to. And we hearing you’s living with the colored saw sharpener. Now why you want to live with them?”

  “I just stay a lot with my friend, Mayhew, that’s all, but I live with Jacob.”

  “And just where does this Jacob live? Let’s go see him.”

  “He isn’t home.”

  “Well, where does he work?”

  I needed to waste time. Moses had to get to Jacob before we did. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “Well why the hell didn’t you say that earlier?” I figured he’d find a restroom somewhere, but instead, he pulled the police car to the side of the road and told me to pick out a tree.

  I delayed as long as I could and got back in the car. “I’m hungry. Can we get a hot dog or something for lunch?”

  “I ain’t buying you no hot dog, boy.”

  “I have my own money. And Jacob will probably be gone for lunch anyway.”

  He grumbled under his breath for a moment before snorting, “Well, I’m hungry too.”

  We pulled in at the same gas station I had eaten at a time or two. We sat on stools at the counter and the waitress put a cup of coffee in front of him. “Hi, Patsy,” he said. “Me and my criminal here need some lunch.”

  She looked at me with concern. “And just what did this here criminal do? Looks like a pretty nice boy to me.”

  “Why, he robbed a bank, stole a car, and shot two officers,” he drawled, smiling as he put his cigar on the edge of the ashtray.

  Rubbing my head, she said, “You’ve been in here before. What would you like, sweetheart?”

  “Could I get a hot chocolate and a hot dog?”

  “Of course. And what do you want, Mac?”

  I didn’t miss the way he looked at her. “The usual.”

  She slid a plate piled high with biscuits covered in white gravy in front of him. “You gonna add this to your belly?” she asked. In front of me, she put a basket with two hot dogs and chips. “I figured you could put away two dogs, you being so skinny.”

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled at me. “You’re very welcome.”

  Fat Cop kept trying to talk to her, but she pretty much ignored him. I didn’t blame her. I could tell she did not like him one bit—most of me wished she would give him a good talking-to, but he was a cop. I didn’t want to know what he’d do if she said anything. So instead, I sat there and ate as slowly as I could. She kept filling his coffee, and when she took away his empty plate, he said, “Give me a big piece of that apple pie, darlin’.”

  She cut two pieces, put one in front of him, and put one if front of me.

  “I don’t need a piece,” I said awkwardly, “but I sure thank you.”

  “Well, it’s there in front of you, so I reckon you’ll need to eat it before this here officer of the law tosses you in jail. You enjoy it, young man.”

  The pie was really good. When Fat Cop finished eating, she asked, “You want anything else, Officer?” emphasizing the title.

  “Nope. Put my lunch on my bill, baby.” He nodded toward me. “He’s paying for his own.”

  I put my hand in my pocket to take out some money. Patsy shook her head. “You keep your money, young man. If this generous officer is too cheap to buy you lunch, well, I sure will.” She glanced at him. “You damn well better
leave me a tip.”

  The cop flicked some money onto the counter and tramped toward the door. I followed him, but I glanced back at Patsy, who made a shooing motion toward Fat Cop and smiled at me. I grinned back.

  We left the diner and got back in the car. “Okay, now show me where your uncle Jacob works.”

  * * *

  On the way to the dock, I told him Jacob was a diesel repairman and worked on tugboats, and he was training me to be a mechanic, too.

  “Why ain’t you living with him?”

  “I am,” I said, “but because he works a lot, I stay with my friend, Mayhew, and his grandpa and grandma.”

  “Boy, you oughtn’t be staying with darkies. They ain’t our kind.”

  Our kind? In no way was I part of his kind.

  “They’re the nicest people in the world. I like staying with them, and Mayhew and his sister are my best friends.”

  “You ain’t listening to me, boy. You don’t be hanging with no niggers, you hear me? You’re a white boy. You don’t go making friends with them.”

  I hated that word. I hated Fat Cop and the dirty cigar in his mouth. I was just about to tell him he was the stupidest man I ever met, and he had no idea about anything. Then, I thought about what Moses had said, and I knew if I did tell him off, I’d be playing right into his hands.

  When we got to the dock, I directed him to where Jacob and Max worked on the tugs, hoping they were not there, or Moses had time to get there, but I doubted he did. When we got out of the car, I saw Jacob and Max on deck. They had seen the police car and were studying it when I got out. I saw the surprise on Jacob’s face. I waved, ran fast to get ahead of the cop, and rushed up the gangplank toward him, yelling, “Hi, Uncle Jacob!”

  I saw him squint in confusion. I had to get as much out in as few words as possible and hope Jacob figured it out. I reached my arms out for a hug, and Jacob’s eyes went wide. When I grabbed him, I whispered, “You’re my uncle, you know Moses, I’m living with you, but I stay with Mayhew a lot.”