Lilly

by Madelyn Bennett Edwards

  "It must be hard, not having your mama."

  "I had to grow up real fast," Samuel answered. "What took me a long time to understand was that Mr. Van was not like Mr. Kent and his men. When I come here, I don't know I can go to a church on Sunday, that you could leave the plantation to have a service. I was too scared to try; that's why I didn't go with ya'll 'til after the war."

  "Yes, we sure are blessed," she said. "Mr. Van's a good man."

  So my granny and granddaddy learned to read and write and do numbers. That started something that turned my people upside down.

  First thing to happen is, after a few years of walking Annie home after dark, my granddaddy axed would she marry him. He knew she was all kinds of special. They waited 'til she was of age, fifteen or so, and my granddaddy went up to the big house and knocked on the back door. Lizzie, the house girl, came through the kitchen and pushed that screen door open and saw my granddaddy standing there with the red sun setting behind him, his hat in his hands, a clean shirt, and suspenders holding up his baggy pants.

  "What you want, boy?" Miss Lizzie asked. She weren't much older than my granddaddy, but she thought she was better 'cause she work up at the house. Anyway, my granddaddy say he wanted to talk to Mr. Van.

  "Now why you think a busy man like Mistah Van want to come talk to the likes of you?"

  "He told me if I ever needed to tell him something to just come up to the house. So here I am. I'd appreciate it if you would fetch him, Miss Lizzie." My granddaddy was charming, and he won over Miss Lizzie. Soon Mr. Van was standing outside at the bottom of the steps in his backyard, facing Samuel.

  "Mr. Van, sir. I come to axe can I marry Anna Lee."

  "Well, son, this is a surprise. How old are you now?"

  "I think I'm about twenty, that's if I was ten when I come here, sir."

  "And how old is Annie? About fifteen?"

  "Yessir."

  "She's a fine one. She practically raised my Henry. He loves her like a big sister." Samuel said he could tell Mr. Van was talking to hisself, kind of thinking out loud, so Samuel just stood and waited. "Does she want to marry you, Samuel?"

  "Yessir, she say she do."

  "Well, the two of you come by here tomorrow after supper, and we can talk together. That sound okay to you?"

  "Yessir. Thank you."

  "Samuel. I understand that the Harrises have been teaching you to read and write along with Annie. Is that right?"

  "Yessir."

  "Then you need to start talking like you're educated. I'm sure the Harrises taught you better than to say, 'I come to axe can I,' and 'she do.'"

  "Yessir. I've come here to ask you if I can marry Anna Lee. She says she does want to marry me."

  "Good job, son. I'll see you both tomorrow."

  The next evening Mr. Van sat with Samuel and Annie at the iron table under the massive oak tree in the backyard of the plantation house. He had Lizzie bring out a pitcher of lemonade and sent for Maureen to join them. Mr. Van asked Annie if she loved Samuel and she didn't know how to respond.

  "You are supposed to love the man you marry, Annie."

  "Yes, sir. I guess I love Samuel. I hadn't thought about it."

  "Do you want to spend the rest of your life with him?" She looked at Samuel and blushed. He winked at her and her smile lit up her entire face. Maureen was watching and started to cry.

  "How do you feel about this marriage, Maureen? Annie is your little girl. Do you approve?" Maureen looked from Samuel to Annie and back to Mr. Van.

  "Yes, sir. I think they good for each other. And I'll have my girl right here close by."

  "If they have your blessing, they have mine." The young couple looked at each other and were embarrassed. Mr. Van told them they could have the empty one-room cabin at the end of the row that Bugger used to live in before the war ended and he headed north. It was small and needed work, but it would be theirs, and they were happy about that.

  The following Sunday at the Bethel Baptist, Preacher Harris pronounced Samuel and Anna Lee man and wife, and they started their life together. The other workers would laugh at them because they would make love all night and be so tired in the morning they had to drag themselves out of bed and push through the day's work; then they'd come back together in the evenings unable to wait until after supper to pull each other's clothes off and feel their skins touch. The others could hear them through the thin-sheeted walls and would tease them the next day.

  It was two years later when they had they first child, my daddy. They named him Samuel, Junior and called him Sammy. Maybe two or three years later, Simon come along, and the next year, Jacob.

  The cotton field was where Anna Lee liked to be, working with Samuel. She said his skin glistened in the sun and reminded her of chocolate, sweet and desirable. The little boys would play and run in the fields, take they naps under a big oak tree and pretend they was helping out. When Annie had been about ten, she'd taught little Henry, who was four or five at the time, how to sound out his words. She taught him his ABCs and how to tie his shoes. After she started having kids of her own, she took to teaching them to read and write. That's when she got the idea that maybe she could teach the other children in the Quarters.

  So she went up to the big house to see Mr. Van. By now, Mr. Henry was about twenty and was in college over in Baton Rouge, but he was home for vacation when Annie went there. Mr. Henry had a soft spot for Annie because she had helped raise him and he said the reason he was so smart was because she started teaching him how to read as soon as he could talk. Annie axed Mr. Van could she use the barn in the evenings when it was nobody in there. He wasn't too keen on the idea, but Mr. Henry, well, he took up for Annie and next thing you know they had a chalkboard on wheels they kept in the tack room that George would roll out into the breezeway for her, and she set about making a school when she got out the fields in the evenings.

  Next thing you know, they was up at the Bethel Baptist one Sunday, and the preacher and his wife had been hearing about Annie teaching the children at Shadowland. They told her they was getting old and tired and would she start teaching the children who stayed after church on Sundays. One thing led to another, and before long the mamas and daddies was asking Annie if she would teach they children on the weekdays when the grownups was in the fields and the children didn't have nothing to do.

  By this time the war had been over nearly fifteen years and Sammy was about five or so. Annie wasn't making nothing working in the fields 'cause Mr. Van, he just paid the men to work, so she went up to the big house to talk to him. She said beings as they was free and that she was working in the fields for nothing, she wanted to start teaching school in the daytime. Mr. Van said she didn't work for free, that she had a house to live in and clothes to wear and food for her family. She say she know all that, but Samuel would get that stuff if he weren't married to her and she made a case for teaching. Mr. Van said he'd think about it and when Mr. Henry came home for Christmas, why he talked his daddy into giving Annie her way.

  "That's how the first Negro school got started in these parts," Catfish told me. "Before that, the coloreds couldn't read or write and had to sign they names with an X, but my granny changed all that, she shore did. And my daddy was smart, why he was something. And he saw to it that all his children learned."

  I asked Catfish whether he could read and write and he said, "shore nuff." I was puzzled because of the way he spoke—his dialect, and lack of grammar—but he explained that it was the way his people talked and, "hit don't have no bearing whatsoever on how smart we are."

  I remember laughing when he told me that, and I started bringing him books from the library to read when he was sitting on his porch in the afternoons doing nothing. Later we'd discuss what he thought about the plot and the characters. Turned out the joke was on me—Catfish was pretty smart and a voracious reader.

  I thought about Catfish and how much he'd taught me about life, about love, about how to
be kind. Through him, I learned not to judge or discriminate. I knew he’d be proud of the woman I was becoming.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ***

  Jean Ville

  In April, Josh, Lilly, and I flew to New Orleans and rented a car to drive to Jean Ville. We drove up the back drive at my dad's house and the place looked deserted. I felt uneasy, afraid of what I'd find inside. We didn't knock, just walked in the back door as you would naturally do at your parents' house. There was no one in the kitchen, and it was eerily quiet. I started calling out, "Anybody home?" "Dad, are you here?"

  Before I could stop her, Lilly went running through the kitchen and into the hall, which spanned the distance between the front and back doors, about 60 to 70 feet, and it was at least 18 feet wide. She gasped when she saw the expanse, then she ran out the front door and onto the porch. Josh was hot on her trail and grabbed her just before the door slammed shut behind her.

  "Don't run in the house, Lilly," he said. "You know the rules. Especially in someone else's house." They were standing in the opened doorway, Josh holding Lilly's hand, her arm outstretched as though trying to get away from him.

  It smelled like alcohol and dust in the house, stale and musty. Josh and Lilly said something to someone on the porch, and I followed them out the door. Daddy was sitting in a rocker wearing old khaki slacks, an oversized grey T-shirt, and flip-flops. He was unshaven and smelled like he hadn't bathed in days.

  "Well. Who do we have here?" He was staring at Lilly, who by now, was acting shy, peeking around Josh's pant leg.

  "I'm Lilly." She walked around Josh, still holding his pants in one fist.

  "And I'm Josh. Joshua Ryan. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Burton. Sorry for the intrusion." Josh reached out to shake hands, but Daddy couldn't take his eyes off Lilly. She cowered on the side of Josh and I stood in the opened doorway and watched, frozen.

  "Who's Lilly?" Daddy had a scowl on his face and was trying to peer around Josh to get a better look at her.

  "Lilly Franklin. Her mother is very sick, and Susie has been caring for her." Josh didn't mention that I had custody and I was glad.

  "Come here, Lilly. Let me look at you." Daddy reached out his hand, and I wanted to grab Lilly and run back through the house to the car with her, afraid of what he might do to my little girl. After all, I wasn't much older than she when he started beating me.

  Lilly let go of Josh's slacks and walked slowly around to the front of Josh, leaning back against him, both her arms behind her back. Josh put his hands on her shoulders in a protective manner.

  "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing." Daddy was staring at her as though he couldn't quite put his finger on something and I was worried he might see a resemblance to Rodney or me in Lilly.

  "Hi Daddy, how are you feeling." I walked quickly from the door, around Josh and Lilly, and stood blocking them from Daddy while I bent to kiss him on the forehead. "You look much better than you did the last time I was here." I must have distracted him for a minute.

  "Hi, pretty girl. It's good to see you." He reached up and pulled me into a platonic embrace, and as I kissed both his cheeks, I could smell whiskey on his breath.

  Lilly ran down the steps into the front yard and was trying to climb on the tire swing hanging from the old oak tree beside the walkway. Daddy gave Josh a limp handshake and watched Lilly.

  "Who is she, Susie?" He tilted his head back and pointed his chin at Lilly. Josh and I looked at each other, and I could tell Josh was taken aback by Daddy's tone and demeanor.

  "Her name is Lilly. Lilly Franklin." Josh was standing behind me, and he moved around and sat on the swing. I sat next to him. We all watched Lilly on the tire swing for a while, not speaking.

  Josh went down the steps two at a time and began to push Lilly on the swing.

  "What's with the child?" Daddy didn't look at me.

  "Well, as Josh said, her mother is very ill and she's my best friend. I've been helping with Lilly for a couple of years while Emalene has been fighting cancer and a form of dementia brought on by lack of oxygen to the brain."

  I pushed myself back and forth slowly on the swing with my feet. "Lilly's dad, Joe, well, he hasn't taken his wife's disability very well and sort of ran out on them. So Lilly has been staying with me." I watched Josh push Lilly on the swing, and she squealed and laughed aloud.

  I told Daddy that Josh and I were engaged and that we might get custody of Lilly. I was trying to lay the groundwork for what would happen, so he didn't jump to conclusions. He seemed to accept what I told him.

  Josh and Lilly joined us on the porch and we visited for about an hour. Daddy was civil, which was a stretch since I couldn't remember a time when he'd treated me with anything close to decency.

  "Let me look at you, little Lilly." Daddy reached one of his hands towards the swing and Lilly jumped off and stood in front of him. "Aren't you a pretty little thing. Are you colored?"

  "What's colored mean?" She looked at me and Josh, who were both shocked into silence for a few seconds.

  "It means that you…" he started to say, but I interrupted.

  "Dad. Stop." I jumped off the swing and picked Lilly up. She wiggled out of my arms and climbed on Daddy's lap and kissed him on the cheek. He was so shocked he didn't respond and she slid down before he could comment. Lilly ran down the steps into the yard and got back on the tire swing. "Dad. We don't talk about race in New York."

  "Well, is she? A Negro?"

  "Her mother is colored, her dad is white. Emalene is a lawyer and Joe is a college professor. Please don't say anything to Lilly about race, okay." I stared at him with contempt but he merely shrugged his shoulders and said, okay.

  I considered it a victory when we left and there had been no harsh words. Daddy and Josh had a friendly conversation about medicine, Daddy's condition, New York and, when he tried to steer the conversation back toward Lilly, Josh was able to divert it.

  I gave Josh directions to the Quarters, only a few blocks down South Jefferson. I didn't look to see if Daddy was still on the porch when we rode in front of the house.

  Marianne met our car before it came to a stop and was beaming from ear to ear. Behind her, Tootsie was waiting with her arms opened wide for a hug. We were barely out of the car before they were all over Josh, gushing over his good looks, then Marianne had Lilly on her back riding the horsey around the car. We all sat on Marianne's porch, and Tootsie brought out sweet tea and cupcakes, Lilly's favorite. Tootsie hadn't forgotten. I could see the tension leave Josh, replaced with laughter and a feeling of belonging.

  That night, Lilly wanted to stay with Marianne and play with the kids in the Quarters, so Josh and I were alone at the Hotel Bentley in Alexandria, about thirty miles from Jean Ville. We talked about the difference in the two families—one home that was huge, lavish, and beautiful, furnished to the hilt, but lonely and sickly; the other home small, quaint, and simple, but filled with love and acceptance. I was glad we had come to Louisiana so Josh could understand how Catfish and his family were my true family growing up, and why I didn't come to visit my dad very often.

  The next day we were back in the Quarters, and I went for a short visit with my dad. He was up and around but looked pale. The way he acted, you'd swear he loved me like any dad loves his daughter.

  Sissy and I sat in the kitchen, drank tea and laughed.

  “Dad said you brought a handsome man and a little girl home with you.” She was curious but not probing.

  “You need to come to the Quarters to meet Josh. You’ll love him. You’ll love Lilly, too.” I stirred my tea and didn’t look at Sissy.

  “Dad said she’s the daughter of your friend.”

  “My best friend, Emalene Franklin, who is very sick; actually, she's in a nursing home.”

  “That’s so sad.” She changed the subject and told me she’d come to the Quarters the next day to meet the two people I was so in love with.

  Marianne was a
t work when I returned to the Quarters, so I sat with Tootsie on her porch and watched Josh walk with Lilly through the rows of sugar cane. Tootsie sat in a rocker, shelling peas, a big silver bowl between her legs. She told me she didn't spend the night at Daddy's house anymore.

  "He too mean." She shook her head as though remembering something gruesome. "When he start to get around again, he took to slapping me and yelling and cussing. I don't have to take that no more."

  "No you don't, Toot," I said. I patted her hand and rubbed my thumb over her wrist. I couldn't help but think what my mother must have endured all those years and felt less judgmental about her leaving. I considered what Emalene would have said, "You have no idea what goes on in someone's life or what you would do in their place. It's not your job to judge them; it's your place to love them."

  "Do you miss Catfish?" I didn't look at Tootsie when I asked.

  "Every day." Her nimble fingers deftly pulled a string on the side of a pea pod. When she bent it in half, it cracked open, and five or six peas that looked like green pearls fell into the bowl.

  "I was thinking the other day about some of the stories Catfish tole me," Tootsie said. "Did he ever tell you about his daddy, Sammy?"

  "He told me a couple of stories about Sammy when he was a boy." I watched her rhythmically shell the peas, thinking how she wasn't aware she was doing it, the process was so natural. "He told me about his granddaddy and the Vans, about George and Maureen and Anna Lee. He told me about the school Anna Lee started and how that changed things for colored people around here."

  "Sure did. She was quite a woman, according to everyone knew her. Now, she would be my great-grandmother, Catfish's grandmother," Tootsie put her index finger beside her mouth and tapped her face rapidly as though she were pushing the thoughts out. I listened to her distinct southern drawl mixed with her own bent on the English language and got lost in her story and the telling: