A Treasure of Gold

by Piper Huguley

  Each little head was now facing him. Bless these little ones. Such beauty was here in the sea of faces of all shades of brown. “I want to talk to you about percentages.”

  One little girl who was in the pew behind Goldie shook her head. “Uh-uh. Too hard.”

  “Too hard, you say?”

  Nettie’s nephew Solomon folded his arms and stared at him warily. Heh. The kid already knew what he was about to say. A smart one. He could tell Solomon knew already, just like Goldie did. But not every child knew percentages.

  “What if instead of percentages…” he pulled open his lapel and pulled out a brown bag, “…I talked about lemon drops?”

  “I like lemon drops,” the kid called Squirt said.

  Now he had Solomon’s attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Nettie was as wary as her nephew had been. Maybe she didn’t like lemon drops.

  “I’ve got one hundred lemon drops here.”

  “That’s a lot,” Squirt said.

  “Is it? For a big, hungry crowd like this?”

  “There are forty of us, Daddy,” Goldie offered.

  A rush of pride filled his heart. His girl. She was already doing the math in her head, which might ache a bit because of her smooth braids. Nettie had put Goldie’s braids in tight so they would stay.

  What had his life been like before he got shot and Nettie found him in the alleyway? Looking back, his life before her seemed bleak, gray and small. Now, possibilities loomed large, his work seemed tiny in the world. What Nettie brought was so large, like the sun.

  “Forty, right, Goldie girl. Yes. Okay. What if…” He reached into the bag and pulled out a lemon drop—he held it in front of the children, “…I ate one.”

  “No, banker man, no.”

  “I can’t have one?” He frowned at the child who had called out—a kid who couldn’t have been more than five. “One out of one hundred. One percent. Say it, kids.”

  “One percent.”

  “What if I ate two?” He reached in the bag for another and held them up.

  “He’s going to eat them all!” Squirt said.

  Nettie smiled.

  Jay winked at her and she looked away. Yeah, she liked looking at him.

  “No, Daddy is just showing you percentages. That’s two. Two percent,” Goldie called out.

  The children intoned after Goldie, “Two percent.”

  “What about five?”

  “The number is getting higher,” a child near the front cried out. It was Ruby and Adam’s little girl, Nettie’s niece. Her gray eyes were wide.

  “That is right, sweetie, but how many percent?”

  “Five?”

  “That’s right, toots. Good job.”

  The little girl—he didn’t remember her name—sat by Nettie’s right hand and her aunt smoothed her black curls.

  After ten more minutes, and more threats to eat all of the lemon drops, Jay held up his hands, the bag of lemon drops secure in the crook of his thumb. “You all understand that pretty well. Okay. Well, I’ve got to get back.”

  The children groaned.

  Pleased they seemed to have had fun, he waved his hands. “You all got stuff to do, I know.” He tossed the bag to Nettie and she was aware enough to catch it in her hands. “I’ll leave these here.”

  The children cheered.

  “Miss Nettie will give them to you.”

  “For dessert,” Nettie spoke in a voice filled with authority—a different one than the one she used with Goldie. “Put up your math papers and let’s get ready to rehearse. Say thank you to Mr. Evans for his kindness and generosity.”

  He walked to the back of the church, waving at the echoes of the children’s gratitude. He felt good he had gone there for the children, but as he went into the stairwell, a smothering feeling came into his chest.

  Going down first few steps, he breathed out slowly. He closed his eyes and brought out the handkerchief again.

  Suddenly, she was there. Nettie had followed him. “Are you all right? Are you sure that you aren’t rushing things a bit after your injury?”

  He wiped at his forehead. “That? Oh no. I’m fine.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I am. I just…it was a little hot in there.”

  “You did very well, even if it was a slightly different way of talking about math. I think they liked it.”

  “They did?”

  “Certainly. They love lemon drops.”

  “Do you?”

  “Me?” Nettie shook her head. “I’m not a big fan of candy in general, so I guess not.”

  “No sweets?”

  “I didn’t say that. I like ice cream but it’s not easy to get.”

  “I see. A rarefied pleasure for one who is rare.” He folded up his handkerchief and pocketed it again. The smothering feeling had gone. He felt better just talking to Nettie.

  “Thank you for coming by today.”

  “It was no problem. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Yes. Tonight.”

  “And will you stay for dinner?”

  “I-I don’t know.” She seemed shaken by his invitation.

  “Think about it. Please?”

  “Okay.” Nettie turned from him and went back into the sanctuary.

  He enjoyed watching her take command of the children again, this time with the lemon-drop bag clenched tightly in her fist.

  Nettie flipped the stove lids. She still had to make a decision about whether or not she would stay for dinner that night. Four pork chops. One could be for her.

  The thought of having to watch him eat her food made her stomach flip-flop. In her mind’s eye, she envisioned his lips, wonderfully plump and juicy, gnawing on a smothered pork chop, and she felt faint. Fortunately, Goldie was there as she worked, keeping her in line.

  “I don’t like rice,” Goldie declared.

  “You ate the rice pudding I made before.”

  “Yeah. That was good. I mean regular rice.”

  “I’ll show you a way to eat it that you’ll like.”

  She stirred the green beans and flinched just a little when she heard the door—right on time. He did not come later, although coming to the church today might have held his business up.

  A bucket of cold water mentally doused her inflamed sensibilities. She prayed, the only thing she knew how to do in times of desperation.

  God, listen to me. He’s a gangster. I cannot fall for a gangster.

  The words echoed in her head, reminding her how her mother had infused her with certain beliefs when she had to spend all of that time in bed and her life had been spared. That meant she had a special purpose in life, and she could not let a man of questionable reputation destroy that.

  Still, she remembered what Mrs. Caldwell said. He made sure to float the game so everyone who put in eventually got to win. Like a magical bank account that paid off over time. And he did not play himself. So Jay was a banker in the real sense of the word. When banks would not let Negroes through the door, he provided a service.

  He skims off the top. But then, was that any different from the bank charging interest? It was all so confusing and as Nettie scraped the pan free of rice, he came and filled the doorway, all tan suit and shoulders.

  “Goldie says we are having pork chops.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Smothered?” Jay leaned over and looked at the pan bubbling away on top of the cookstove. “You must want me to burst out all of my custom-cut suits?”

  Custom-cut, yes. That must be why he looked so good in his clothes. “I just wanted to make a nice dinner for a Friday.”

  “Nice? I don’t think I’ve had a smothered pork chop since my mother was alive.”

  His joking personality went away, and she put the pan down,
unsure of what to do. Should she apologize for making him something that reminded him of his childhood?

  “How old were you when she died?”

  “Twelve.”

  “That must have been difficult for you. I couldn’t imagine being that young and losing your mother. My mother had the influenza a few years ago and we thought she was going to die. It was terrible. Actually losing her…I can’t imagine.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  “No thank you. Goldie set the table before you came, so that’s done. I’ll go and bring the food out.”

  “I can take something.”

  She pointed to the icebox. “You can take the pie out.”

  “Fine.”

  Jay stepped around her and his clean scent invaded her senses. She willed herself to stand up straight and be still. The orange pie seemed dwarfed in his large hands, but he carried it to the table willingly as she followed behind carrying the pan of smothered pork chops and carefully set them on the table.

  “More?”

  “Yes.”

  They went back into the kitchen and she handed him a towel. “I don’t want you to burn your hand.”

  “I won’t.”

  She made sure in the handoff that Jay grabbed the towel end and not her hand, so that charge thing didn’t happen again between them. He took up the pan of green beans and carrots then went back out to the table.

  “I have the rice. That’s it,” she called. When she came back out, Jay was sitting at the head of the table and Goldie was on the far side.

  “You sit on the other side, Miss Nettie.”

  The space left for her was the side closest to the kitchen. The foot of the table, she guessed, was Clara’s spot. She certainly didn’t want to take it. The space Goldie pointed out was closer to both of them anyway, so she sat down.

  At first, she was shy as everyone loaded their plates with food, and the chewing began. She craned her neck and viewed Goldie’s plate. No rice. “I forgot the special way to eat rice for you, Goldie.”

  “Yeah, you promised me.”

  “Let me show you.”

  She stood up and went into the kitchen to retrieve the sugar bowl. She came around to Goldie’s side and pulled the butter dish forward. Dishing up some of the steaming rice, she put a pat of butter on it. She sprinkled it lightly with sugar, took an extra spoon and stirred the rice mixture around on Goldie’s plate, careful to avoid mixing the rice with anything else. Children were funny that way.

  “See? Sweet rice. Give it a try.”

  Goldie took up the spoon she used and ate the leavings. “Yum!” she exclaimed and dug in, excited.

  She made her way back to her chair and resumed eating. She was delighted to hear Jay laugh at his daughter’s response.

  “How do you know about making Geechee rice?”

  “We know a thing or two about rice in Georgia. Even though we’re from the other side of the state from where it grows. Winslow is closer to Alabama, almost on the border.”

  She cut her pork chop with her fork. It was tender enough to do so, she was pleased to see. She kept her eyes on the plate so that she didn’t have to see Jay eat.

  “That brings back some memories. Boy, we used to eat geechee rice for breakfast when we lived up in New York.” He deliberately chewed on a piece of pork chop.

  Nettie was lost.

  “I had forgotten all about that.” Jay marveled.

  “Glad I could help Goldie see that rice is good for her.”

  “Tell us some more about the country, Miss Nettie. You have other sisters?”

  “Yes. Only Em and Delie are at home now. Em is a dressmaker and a Madame Walker hair agent. Delie is about to graduate from school. We hope to get her into a high school. Somehow.”

  “Your sister is a dressmaker?” Goldie chewed on her rice, frowning.

  “Yes.”

  “Did she make your clothes?”

  “Yes, Goldie, why?”

  “Doesn’t she know how to make new clothes?”

  Jay put a hand on his daughter’s arm. “That’s enough, Goldie. We have a guest today.”

  “It’s okay, Mr. Evans. I can explain.” She faced Goldie as the child continued to chew. “Em makes all kinds of wonderful clothes. However, I asked her to make my clothes this way.”

  “Why? She uses so much more material.”

  “I feel it’s necessary me, as a woman, to dress modestly. I don’t like the thought of my legs or arms showing. Those parts of the body would be for my husband to see. I prefer the older way of dressing, so I remain modest.”

  “It isn’t as fun, though.”

  “Maybe not for you.” She directed a little half-smile at Goldie’s downcast face.

  “But you don’t have a husband.” Goldie scraped up the last of the Geechee rice and licked the spoon like an ice cream cone.

  “I don’t.”

  Goldie put the spoon down, and faced her nanny. “How are you going to get one if you don’t show your legs and arms?”

  Chapter Ten

  Jay would rather face Joe and his gun again than face Ruby and her questions about his intentions.

  He and Goldie determined to walk Nettie home since the spring Pittsburgh evening was nice again. When they arrived at the Morson home, they all got dragged into the parlor. Subjected Mrs. Morson’s rage again, Jay nearly felt like calling on God as he hadn’t in years. The little short woman almost burst into flame with anger at whatever she thought he was doing to her sister.

  Still, Nettie was very lucky to have someone who cared about her so much. His family hadn’t cared that much since his mother had died.

  Shockingly though, Little Country matched her older sister look for look, angry glance for angry glance. Nettie put in. “You need to mind your own business, Ruby.”

  “No I don’t,” her sister said, ready for combat. “This is my house, and you’re our responsibility until you leave as a married woman.”

  Nettie slapped her thigh. “Which means forever. Everyone knows I can’t be married.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear you say it, because from the looks of this numbers man, he hasn’t been made to understand that, or anything at all.”

  “I’m just trying to do the Lord’s work. That’s all.”

  This was the first time he saw Nettie back down a little bit, and he wanted to encourage her to keep fighting. Why shouldn’t she marry if she wanted to?

  “Miss Nettie has been nothing but good for me and my daughter. I just wanted to show my appreciation by having her eat with us as a human being would, and not treat her as the help. Too many times we, as Negroes, are made to feel that way.” He meant what he said, and Ruby seemed impressed by his words when she straightened her short body up a few inches.

  “Yes. Well, she can have dinner every day if she wants, but things should not progress any further.”

  Clearly, Nettie was about to respond and he would have let her speak, but he knew further explanation by him was needed. “Miss Ruby, your sister is a beautiful and good woman. She has shown my daughter many things about being a woman.”

  “Except how to dress, Daddy. I’m going to help her with that.”

  Jay had to keep the smile from emerging on his face because Goldie had chosen this pivotal moment to misbehave. He frowned. “Children must be quiet unless they are addressed, Goldie Louise.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Anyway, she would make a lovely enhancement for any man’s life,” He insisted.

  His words were true, but strangely, the sisters shared furtive glances between them that made no sense. Why couldn’t Nettie be married? Was there something wrong with her?

  “She’s twenty-three, and she should be able to do as she pleases with her life.”

  “Yes, but within reason, Mr. Evans. Unchapero
ned young women—that is something that shouldn’t be allowed.”

  He spread his hands. “Times are changing here in the roaring twenties, Miss Ruby.”

  “Yes they are,” Nettie jumped in. “And if I cannot be married, I should be able to come and go as I please. Maybe I can find myself someplace to live.”

  “Without money?” Ruby folded her arms. “I would love to see that.”

  “I pay Miss Nettie amply for the work she does. If she wanted to find a place for herself, I don’t see why she couldn’t.”

  Ruby backed into her husband physically, both of them clearly shocked. “Young women of good quality don’t live on their own,” Ruby said.

  “Why not?” That obstinate quality was present in Nettie now.

  Fight, Little Country. Fight.

  “I cannot speak of such a thing with children present.” Ruby gestured to Goldie and Solomon, who had joined them. They were all ears, of course.

  “I can certainly see why,” Nettie acknowledged.

  What were they talking about? The practices of so-called good people were confusing.

  “But if my comings and goings are such a problem for you, I can move out.” Nettie folded her arms.

  “We’ll not have it.” Adam folded his arms. “You’re family and in your father’s stead, Ruby and I have a say over you. I’m happy that you have found a vocation, as Asa and I wanted you to do. However, you have been having a little too much involvement with this man, and it needs to end. I disagree with my wife. I think dinner means trouble.”

  “Dinner is not trouble. Dinner is dinner.”

  “It’s never that easy, Nettie. You must learn to take the advisement of those who know better.” Adam shook his head.

  She threw up her hands. “If I’m to be punished for doing good work—”

  He laid a hand on her arm. He had done it because it came naturally. It felt right to touch her in this moment when she was facing such consternation in those whom she loved. All because of him.

  When Jay saw Ruby’s brown eyes stare at the placement of his hand, he knew it was a mistake, but somehow he did not care.