“Don’t worry about them, Mrs. Fairchild,” he said. “I will take care of them.”
“Let me know how much it is and I will send you payment.”
Mr. Watson smiled. “I will take care of it,” he repeated.
He turned to the rest of us where we stood waiting.
“Get going!” he said, glancing toward town. “I can already imagine that I see faint lights in the distance. Get to the woods as quickly as you can, far enough so that they can’t hear you.”
We all jumped into the wagons. Katie and I climbed up and sat beside Uncle Templeton in one of the two big ones. Aunt Nelda climbed up beside Uncle Ward in the other. Jeremiah and Rob mounted the two single horses. Henry helped Josepha up onto the seat of the smaller buggy, then jumped up beside her.
“We’ve got no time for long good-byes,” said Papa, glancing about one last time. I saw him blinking hard.
“Thanks, Herb!” he said, then turned and flapped the reins in his hands and yelled and the horses jumped into motion and off we went into the night and toward whatever was our new destiny. If there was anyone who wasn’t crying, I don’t know who it was.
Whether Katie was sadder to leave her lifelong home, or Josepha to leave her brand-new house that she never thought she would have and that she loved so much, I don’t know. Tears were pouring down both their faces. I think I felt more anguish for the two of them than for myself.
We bounced and rumbled past the barn and out of the yard on the road toward Mr. Thurston’s.
Josepha and I had once before left Rosewood, thinking we would never see it again. But this was Katie’s time to grieve. She and I turned around and looked back as the house and barn began to fade into the blackness of night. We started around a bend in the road. I glanced over at Katie. Her eyes glistened with tears in the light of the thin moon. She looked over at me.
“We’ve been happy here, haven’t we, Mayme?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been anywhere in my life,” I said.
“Just as long as I never lose you, I will be happy anywhere. Oh, but I will miss this dear place! I just hope Mama and Papa won’t mind too much what I’ve done.”
“They won’t mind,” I said. “It would have happened a long time ago without your hard work and courage. I think they would be very proud of you.”
We both looked back toward the house.
“Good-bye, Rosewood,” I said.
For a moment more Katie stared back.
“Good-bye, Rosewood . . .” she whispered.
A few seconds later the buildings disappeared from sight.
STANDOFF
56
BEFORE THE WAGONS HAD EVEN CLEARED THE YARD, Herb Watson hurried his horse into the barn, unsaddled it, and hoped it would not be found in a sweat. Then he ran back upstairs, took off his clothes, and rummaged around until he found an old pair of nightclothes that had likely belonged to Kathleen’s father. As soon as he heard the sounds of the wagons fading in the distance, he blew out all the lanterns in the house . . . and waited.
When the angry mob of white riders carrying their torches reached Rosewood, they found it quiet and dark, just as they had expected. Their shouts and yells and taunts brought a light to one of the upper windows soon enough.
But the sleepy head that peeped out of the open window a few seconds later was the last face any of them had expected to see here.
“Watson,” shouted William McSimmons, pulling off his hood, “what in blazes are you doing here!”
“Didn’t you hear?” said Watson. “I bought this place from the Daniels brothers.”
Stunned murmurs and questions of disbelief spread through the group of riders.
“We came on business, Watson,” shouted Sam Jenkins. “Now get down here and tell us what this is all about.”
A minute later Watson appeared, rubbing his eyes and holding a lantern and to all appearances recently aroused from bed.
“Where are they?” demanded Jenkins.
“Who?”
“The Daniels and their niggers—the whole brood!”
“I don’t know. They’re not here anymore. They’re gone . . . left. I’m alone.”
“You don’t mind if we search the place?”
Watson hesitated a moment before answering.
“Let me get this straight, Sam . . . you think I’m lying to you?”
“I didn’t say that. I just want to know if we can search the place.”
“Why else would you want to unless you think I’m lying? I don’t know that I take that kindly, Sam.”
The first syllable of a terrible curse burst from Jenkins’ lips, but he stopped himself. Herb Watson was one of the most respected men in Greens Crossing.
“If you want to search . . . go right ahead,” said Watson. He glanced up and down the line of riders. “You know,” he added, “I’m pretty trusting when it comes to all you boys’ cotton and other crops. If I wasn’t so trusting, I could tear apart your bales and do some searching of my own. I’d likely find weeds and stones and thistles and probably I wouldn’t be able to give you as much for it as you might want. You know what I mean, boys? I’m a trusting man myself. If you can’t trust me, then go have a look around. But I’ll remember that next time you boys bring your cotton in to me. And I know who you all are. Those sheets don’t hide a thing. So go on, Sam, have a look around if you don’t believe that this place is mine and that the two Daniels and the rest of them are gone.”
Behind him, some of the riders shifted uneasily in their saddles.
“I don’t know if I believe any of this, Herb,” said Jenkins. “We told you not to do any business with them. Now you tell us you’ve gone and bought their place.”
“Seemed like the best solution. Folks know that I’ve been talking for a while about getting me a place out of town.”
“You let them get away, Herb. Might be that we’ll have to burn you out for that.”
“You could. But you’ve got no reason to. You’ve got me outnumbered by plenty. What good does it do you? I’ve always treated you all fairly. Are you going to punish me for taking advantage of an opportunity? You can start something here if you’re determined. You can burn me out here and now. You can burn my mill in town too if your hate’s gone that far.
“But do you really want that? There are no coloreds here. They’re all gone and won’t be back. I bought this place and have the papers to prove it. The blacks are gone. All that’s left are me and you all. I know who most of you are, and your livelihood depends on me and my mill. You need me, or your crops won’t be worth anything. I’m the man who decides what to pay you for your crops. So you have to ask yourselves if it’s worth it.”
Whether Sam Jenkins liked it or not, Watson’s words were getting through to the rest of them, even William McSimmons, whose cotton crop was huge. Sam didn’t have a crop to lose, but the others depended on their cotton.
“You’ve won,” said Watson. “The Daniels are gone. You forced them out. You got what you wanted.”
“Where’d they go, Herb?”
“I don’t know. Far as I know, they planned to take the back roads to Charlotte, sell their horses and wagons, and then take the train north. They’ve got kin in Pennsylvania somewhere.”
“When did all this happen?”
“Yesterday,” lied Watson.
Finally Sam Jenkins was silenced.
Slowly a few of the men backed away and began turning their horses around. It didn’t take long for the others to join them. Within another minute they were all riding off through the night back toward town.
Herb Watson walked back into the empty house that was now his.
“I hope there’s some of that coffee left,” he said to himself. “That was close!”
CAMPFIRE REFLECTIONS
57
We’d only gone probably a mile, though by then we were off the main road and on a narrow wagon track through the woods barely wide enough for the wagons, when Papa reined in an
d told everyone to be as quiet as they could be.
The crickets and other animals had finally gone to sleep and we could hear faint sounds of horses and shouts and saw just the hint of flickering torches through the trees in the direction of the house.
We sat and watched nervously and listened. If they set either the house or the barn on fire, there would be no mistaking it!
Behind us Jeremiah brought his horse alongside our wagon.
“Mister Templeton,” he whispered, “I been thinkin’ . . . why don’t I ride a little way back, real careful an’ quiet, an’ see what’s goin’ on? Ef dey does come lookin’ fo us, I’ll lead ’em on a wild-goose chase. But effen dey don’t, leastways we’ll know.”
“I don’t know, Jeremiah . . . I hate to risk it.”
Papa thought a minute more, then slowly nodded.
“You’re right. Knowing would help us a lot. But you mustn’t let them hear you.”
“I’s keep the horse quiet, you kin count on it.”
Jeremiah turned his horse around and rode slowly back the way we had come.
It became deathly quiet. If we hadn’t all been so keyed up and frightened and been through such emotions, we would have been sleepy. But no one was!
We waited . . . kept watching . . . and kept waiting.
If they found us like this, trying to run away, they would probably kill us all and dump us in a gulch. In a way we were in as much danger here, or more, than we would have been back at Rosewood.
At last we heard the sounds of a single horse. It grew louder, then through the blackness we heard a voice.
“It’s me . . . it’s Jeremiah.”
A few quiet exclamations of relief spread through the group.
“Dey’s gone,” he said when he reached us. “Dey’s headin’ back ter town an’ Rosewood’s safe. Dey didn’t do nuthin’.”
We didn’t exactly shout for joy, because we knew we had to keep quiet just in case. But we almost did!
Right then I think the thought crossed every one of our minds that the easiest thing to do would be to go right back home and get into our own beds.
But it wasn’t our home anymore.
And going back wouldn’t solve anything anyway.
Our future lay ahead of us, not behind. We had made our decision and there was no turning back.
As we settled down, Papa flicked the reins and clicked his tongue to the horses and we jostled into motion.
“You girls might want to crawl back there and get some sleep,” he said. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
When I woke up, the sun was shining, though it was still fairly early. It was chilly and dew was on the ground everywhere. I smelled coffee.
I sat up. There sat Papa and Uncle Ward and Henry and Josepha around a small campfire talking quietly. Josepha’s eyes were red like she’d been crying. The three men were somber.
It was a serious time. What we had done would take some getting used to. The sadness was going to last awhile.
I got up and went into the woods and then came and sat down by the fire.
“Get some sleep?” asked Papa.
“I reckon I did,” I smiled. I cuddled up next to him and he put his arm around me. “Where are we?” I asked.
“Who knows!” he chuckled. “Probably eight or ten miles from Greens Crossing . . . hopefully north.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Keep moving hard for another day or two until we’re out of reach of anyone hearing about us or reporting our whereabouts back home.”
Rob now wandered toward us from where he and Jeremiah had been sleeping.
“Morning,” he said. “This is quite a family I’ve gotten myself mixed up with! You always lead such exciting lives?”
Papa and Uncle Ward laughed so loud it woke up Katie and Aunt Nelda. I guess we didn’t have to try to be quiet anymore!
Josepha wiped at her eyes and struggled to her feet.
“Well, I reckon it’s time we see what we kin rustle up fo breakfast,” she said. “Dis here’s gwine be a long trip—we’s better git started wiff sumfin’ warm in our bellies.”
We continued on, so slowly it seemed in those big wagons, all day. As we got further from Greens Crossing, Papa and Uncle Ward led us back on main roads and we began moving a little faster. By the end of the second day we were probably twenty-five miles from home and the men thought we were out of danger.
But exhaustion was finally setting in too, from the weeks of work in the fields, then the escape in the middle of the night.
We stopped and made camp about five o’clock. The men made a fire. Josepha and Aunt Nelda and Katie and I got to work boiling some potatoes and fixing some beans and bacon. I can’t remember anything ever tasting so good!
While we were sitting around the fire that evening, Katie finally asked what the rest of us were probably all wondering.
“Uncle Templeton,” she said, “where are we going?”
“I don’t know exactly, Kathleen,” Papa replied. “The first thing we had to do was get far enough away that we were safe. Now I suppose it’s time we made some plans. Mr. Watson gave us money to help us get to wherever we want to go. Maybe we better decide where that is.”
“Don’t forget my money, Templeton,” said Aunt Nelda. “I’ve got it safe and sound.”
“I won’t, Nelda,” he said. “Why, that’s over three hundred dollars between us all. We’re rich. We can go wherever we want!”
He paused and the smile faded from his lips.
“But it may be that we’ve all got different ideas as to where that might be,” he said. “Nelda, you’ll probably want to be getting home. If you want, we could put you on a train and—”
“I’m not leaving the rest of you now,” she said. “I haven’t had so much excitement in years! I know you’ve had to leave your home. But we’re safe, and that’s the most important thing. And as far as where to go, you are all welcome with me in Philadelphia . . . though it might be a little crowded.”
“We appreciate that, Nelda,” said Uncle Ward. “We all appreciate it a lot.”
“There’s you too, Rob,” said Papa. “You may be wanting to get home too.”
“I’m in no hurry, Mr. Daniels. I came down to North Carolina to help. That still goes.”
Papa nodded in appreciation. “I suppose what I’m saying,” he went on, “is that maybe now we’ve all got our own lives to live. Rob, you and Kathleen plan to get married. Maybe you’ll get your own place in Hanover. Jeremiah, you had yourself a job—maybe you and Mayme will go back there after you’re married. Henry and Josepha, you have had to leave your nice new house, but when we get Mr. Watson’s money from Rosewood, we’ll all split it up fairly and I promise that you will be able to buy yourself a new place somewhere. As for Ward and me, I suppose we can get by most anyplace. Maybe it’s time for us to hit the trail again, maybe go back to California like we’ve talked about . . . go visit the Hollisters and Micah and Emma, I don’t know. All I’m saying is that maybe we ought to split up Mr. Watson’s two hundred dollars right now, and you’ll all be free to go wherever you want to go.”
It was silent. His words sounded like a death sentence to my ears! I didn’t want everybody to leave and split up!
The silence continued. Everybody was just staring at the ground.
“But, Uncle Templeton,” said Katie at last, “it sounds like you want us all to leave and go our own separate ways.”
“I didn’t mean that, Kathleen,” he said. “I just figured that everyone’s got to make up their own minds what they want to do and where they want to go. We’re all adults, so I can’t be telling everybody else what to do.”
“Meanin’ no disrespect, Mister Templeton,” said Henry, “but me an’ Josepha, we’d jes’ as soon stay wiff you an’ Mister Ward whereber you go, dat is ef you wants us. We’s kind er figger dat we’s a family, ’specially us old folks. Kind er late ter be splittin’ up now, dat’s what we’s thinkin’. Cali
fornia’s a mite far fo da likes er us ter go, but maybe someplace closer by where we kin put down new roots an’ settle down agin.”
“Me too,” said Katie. “I want to stay together too.”
“And me,” I said.
Papa looked at Rob and Jeremiah.
“What about you two young men?” he asked. “What are your plans?”
“I ain’t got none yet, Mister Templeton,” said Jeremiah. “Mayme an’ me, we ain’t had a chance ter talk ’bout it. We figgered we’d be at Rosewood. All dis has happened mighty fast. So wiff all dese changes, I reckon I’m thinkin’ we ought ter stick together a spell.”
Papa looked at Rob.
“Katie and I have talked about our future,” he said. “But we’ve decided nothing. I know how important all of you are to her. This is Katie’s family and I told her that I would never want to take her from her family. And now you are my family too . . . or will be, I hope, before too long. I know you would be welcome at my parents’ home. Like Nelda said, it would be a bit crowded. But in the absence of other possibilities, it is something to consider on a temporary basis.”
Gradually all eyes turned toward Katie.
“Ever since Mayme and I went north,” she said, “I’ve been wondering about the future. The way things are,” she went on, “I don’t know if I want to live in North Carolina anymore, or anywhere even close to it. I don’t want to have to worry about what people think about my best friend, or about Jeremiah or Josepha or Henry or anyone else. I want to live somewhere where people are respected for who they are inside.”
She looked around at all of us, then smiled at me. Then she looked back to Papa.
“I suppose I am ready to leave,” she sighed, “and find a place in the North, or someplace else where we can be a family.”
She glanced at Henry and Josepha.
“I guess I agree with Henry,” she said. “California seems pretty far. Couldn’t we find someplace to live together closer than that!”
A few chuckles went around. Again it was quiet. Nobody was anxious to interrupt with their own thoughts at a time like this. We knew Katie had more to say.
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