Mama marched up to the line of women at a high window with metal bars across it but no glass. Jordan saw just the very top of a head through the opening, with a brown hand reaching through it. The old woman at the front of the line had her arm raised up high, touching what she could of the prisoner. After a few minutes those two moved away from the window, and the next woman, rail thin with a baby on her hip, moved forward and yelled a name into the building. Moments later she walked away, stony faced, without having spoken to anyone.
“Her man musta been taken away,” the round woman ahead of them in line said to no one in particular, shaking her head.
They waited as six more women made it to the front of the line, called out a name, and were rewarded with a short visit—or walked away disappointed.
“Give me one of yo’ mustard seeds, quick!” Mama pushed Jordan.
Jordan shrugged.
“You don’t have ’em?” Mama looked disappointed.
“Sorry, Mama. I left them at Miss Grace’s.”
Mama pressed one of her small seeds into Jordan’s hand.
“Put some love and faith into it, quick! Your brother need some to get through this,” Mama explained.
Jordan did as she was told. Holding the tiny kernel, she breathed in love and faith, then exhaled them into the mustard seed. Maybe this seed would give Samuel a bit of the peace she’d felt in the church that he could carry with him.
When it was their turn at the front of the line, Mama yelled out, “Samuel Freedman.”
Mama raised her hands over her head, holding the seeds between her pointer finger and thumb. Jordan’s heart beat fiercely in her chest. Please let him be here. The waiting felt interminable. She looked at Mama, who just stared forward, her face set, her fingers just over the opening. Suddenly Samuel’s familiar fingers appeared, grimy with dirt. Mama passed their small gifts to his hand.
“Thanks for comin’, Mama,” he said, sounding despondent.
“Jordan here too,” Mama said. “And Ella.”
Jordan was sick. Samuel’s shiny forehead was barely visible over the disgusting brick wall. She desperately wished she could offer him reassurance, but she didn’t have any confidence they would secure his release. Instead of false promises, she greeted him.
“Hi, Samuel.” Jordan’s voice cracked. “You’re going to laugh, but I’ve been praying for you.”
“We brought you food.” Mama reached down for the package of food and squeezed it to him through the bars. They’d included more than he would need so he could share, but Jordan wondered if they’d just complicated the situation for him. Too soon the next woman in line became restless—signaling to them to move on.
“We gotta go now, Samuel,” Mama said. “But we gonna come back ever’ day. And we gonna do what we can to get you free.”
“᾽K, Mama,” was all Samuel said. “I love you.”
“Goodbye,” Jordan said, and her voice broke. She didn’t trust herself to say anything more, fearing she would sob uncontrollably, not knowing when or if she would ever see her brother again. She held it in until they had walked away from the line of women. Was she the only one who felt the pain of this so strongly?
Tears poured down her face. She looked at Ella, who once again looked like she was gone from this world. Then she looked at her mama. The shine in her eyes showed that she was sad too, but the hold of her jaw told Jordan that she wasn’t going to show it to the world. Mama, and all these women, had a stoicism that Jordan had yet to learn.
They walked back up Main Street, past people going about their lives as if the world made sense. Jordan forced herself to say her prayer. God, keep him safe; set him free, over and over again until the tears stopped flowing. She wiped her face and walked on.
A few blocks later Mama suddenly stopped and declared, “We gonna plant a bit of love so we can get some hope.”
“I can use some hope, Mama.” Jordan paused. “But it’s hard to imagine finding any.”
“We gonna buy some supplies, and you gonna go to the orphanage and teach the future.”
Mama stared at Jordan, expectant. Jordan didn’t feel up to being with children after that depressing experience. She wished only to have a nap. But Mama was right—she desperately needed some hope right now. Jordan saw why Mama put her faith in small acts. They were fighting against something so big and ugly that she felt helpless. But all that ugliness couldn’t stop her from teaching a child.
“Ella, would you like to learn all the letters in your name?”
The little girl nodded vigorously.
They walked on, past the stores, until they got to the black part of town. On Clay, not far from the orphan home, they found a store that had several slates and chalk.
Mrs. Avery welcomed them warmly and ushered them to the courtyard in the back. Right away Jordan spotted Tessie directing a circle of young children. When the girl saw Jordan her shoulders jumped and her eyes got big in surprise and excitement, but then she put on an indifferent air and strutted over.
“You came back?”
Jordan nodded. “Yes, I did.”
“D’you ’member me?” the lanky girl asked.
Jordan nodded again. “Yes, I do.”
“What’s my name?”
“Tessie!” Jordan replied. “T-e-s-s-i-e. I brought some slates and chalk so I can teach you the letters in your own name.”
Tessie looked wary. “Did Mrs. Avery say it all right?”
Once again Jordan nodded.
“You shore Jesus ain’t going to send me to hell for writin’ my own name?” Tessie demanded.
“Let the wise hear and increase in learning,” Jordan quoted as a counterargument.
“That from the Bible?”
“Yes,” Jordan said. “When you learn more you can read it there for yourself.”
Looking convinced, Tessie nodded and ran off to the group of young children. She shepherded them toward Jordan and directed them to sit in rows on the ground for their first lesson.
Jordan smiled at Mama. She felt better already. Jordan took Ella’s hand and led her to a spot on the ground. She returned to the front of the group and started at the beginning with the alphabet. Though she had never taught in an outdoor classroom before, she jumped right in.
“T-e-s-s-i-e,” the girl spelled out. “Tessie!”
“That’s right,” Jordan replied. “You are a very clever girl. You learned that in one lesson! Tomorrow we will work on forming your letters.”
Tessie nodded and ran off to wash for supper.
Mrs. Avery walked up and asked, “You plan to return?”
Jordan had said that without thought. Swept up in the moment, she’d just spoken out. She looked at her mama with a silent question.
Mama nodded and said, “I thin’ teaching these children a good use of our time. Don’ you agree?”
Jordan did. “They were very enthusiastic learners.”
“They responded to you. Perhaps because you are Negro,” Mrs. Avery speculated. “You can give them inspiration that our White teachers cannot.”
Jordan felt her heart tug at the truth of Mrs. Avery’s words. She offered these children something no White teacher could possibly do: proof of their race’s capacities. As much as she felt satisfaction with her work that afternoon, she did not want that responsibility.
“While we are in Richmond, I would be pleased to offer lessons each afternoon,” Jordan replied.
Mrs. Avery responded with a tight smile. “Whatever you can offer these children will be a welcome gift.”
Mama, Ella, and Jordan walked back to Miss Grace’s home from the orphanage. With each step Jordan grew more unsettled once again.
“Let’s turn here,” Jordan suggested, to avoid facing the corner where Samuel was dragged away. Mama turned without a word, but Jordan could tell that she was also thinking about Samuel.
Jordan took her mama’s hand and squeezed.
“They can take away my son, but they can’ take aw
ay my faith,” Mama announced.
Jordan said, on the verge of tears, “I feel so helpless.”
“That what they want you to believe,” Mama declared.
Jordan looked at her mother, a question in her eyes.
“Getting you to lose your hope the biggest weapon they gots. So our best weapon is to hold on to hope, however we can.”
Their lives were being destroyed, and Jordan feared they were powerless to stop them—despite the fact that they had won the war! Hope was far from her fury-filled heart.
“You make it sound easy,” Jordan said, emotion building in her chest.
“I got a lot more practice than you livin’ in hope in the face of evil,” Mama replied. “I ain’t saying it easy. I just saying it the mos’ powerful weapon we got. So you keep going back to that orphanage. It gonna give you a bit of hope doing somethin’ to put some good in the world.”
“Teaching children to read is nothing, just a little drop of water in a huge desert of mean.”
“That’ all most of us get—being a little drop of water. A few folks get to do somethin’ big like Mr. Lincoln an’ the Emancipation Proclamation. God givin’ you a chance to help a child know they own name. It a little somethin’, but it gonna matter to that one. We don’ get to pick how big our good gets to be, but each of us picks if we gonna do some good right where we are.”
Jordan bit her lip and nodded.
She must have looked unconvinced, because Mama went on. “If enough people put their drop of water in the same place, then we can make a flower bloom . . . right in the middle of the desert.”
Jordan sighed. She wanted to believe like Mama, but doubt still reigned in her.
Mama’s eyes welled up. “Never, in a million years, would my mama have imagined that she could read the Lord’s words hersel’. And now you, her granddaughter, is a teacher—you went to college!”
Jordan’s flesh rose at her mama’s awe.
“You know why?” Mama asked. “You know who we gots to thank for our blessings?”
“Cousin Sarah?” Jordan whispered through a tight throat.
“Mm-hmm.” Mama nodded. “And so many others.”
Jordan listened attentively.
“Pops’s pa filled his head with stories of freedom,” Mama explained. “Yo’ grandpoppy never made it, but he planted that seed in yo’ pops. I wouldn’t a thought to run, but when I tied mysel’ to him—and he and Samuel made a good life that was waiting for us . . . after you was born, I just had to, no matter how scared I was.”
Mama went on. “An’ those people, the ones we never met and ain’t ever gonna meet, who were called by God to make somethin’ that ain’ ever been before—a college for everyone that let a Negro woman learn. That’ a miracle, baby. A miracle that blessed yo’ life!”
A huge chill swept through Jordan at the truth of her mother’s words.
“The Sower casts his seeds wherever he goes. Mos’ of the seeds ain’t gonna take root and blossom—but some will. You a sower today, baby. You cast seeds of knowledge to those chil’ren. You ain’t gonna know how or where or if they gonna blossom, but you did God’s work today—you sowed some seeds.”
Awe and gratitude chased out the last bit of doubt in her heart, joining with the ever-present fear and sorrow she held for Samuel. Mama was right; her life was a miracle that she owed to God and to so many people. At the same time it was enraging that Samuel had been arrested. Somehow she had to hold both complicated and contradictory truths at once. Jordan hugged her mama long and hard.
“Thank you,” Jordan whispered into her mama’s ear as they separated. Then she took Mama’s hand in her left and Ella’s in her right, and they moved forward, together.
CHAPTER 19
LISBETH
Richmond, Virginia
Keeping to the routines was excruciating, but necessary. Lisbeth went through the days in a fog, avoiding Jack as much as possible, but she was required to take her meals with him. Each time she looked at him she felt he was taunting her.
Father slowly moved toward his final transition, sleeping nearly all day and all night. Lisbeth often sat with him, but she found it wearying to spend the entire day by his bedside. She had hoped that the frank conversation she had shared with Mother would open up a lasting affection between them, but it had not. Neither had spoken of it again. Mother’s attitude seemed to be more affected by the drops than anything Lisbeth said or did.
Julianne’s kind attention to Sadie was jarring to Lisbeth. Every afternoon her daughter had a new hairstyle courtesy of her aunt. Lisbeth wondered what the two of them spoke about during their time together and hoped Julianne wasn’t an undue influence on Sadie, but she did not wish to stir up any curiosity or trouble, so she did not challenge the routine.
She checked the mail the moment it arrived, but there was still no letter from Matthew. More than a week had passed since she’d written to her husband, and she was beginning to fear that her letter had not arrived. It was difficult to manage with no information. She’d decided that if she did not get a letter tomorrow, she would send him a telegram.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of the chime at the door.
“Are you expecting a guest?” Lisbeth asked her mother, who was sitting with her in the parlor.
Mother shook her head but said nothing. She was in one of her quiet moods.
A few moments later Emily opened the door and said, “Mr. Matthew, ma’ams.”
Lisbeth was confused. Then she saw her husband, and her heart leaped like a wild rabbit. She rushed to him, not giving her mother a thought.
“I cannot believe you are here!” she exclaimed.
“I decided to surprise you, and the children,” Matthew replied.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground and back down again, then held her in a long embrace. Lisbeth relaxed into his body, burrowing her cheek into his chest, and got the comfort that came only from him. She had missed him so much.
Interrupting their reunion, Mother chastised, “You did not notify us that you were coming!”
They broke apart, though Lisbeth kept her arm looped through his.
“My apologies, Mother Wainwright,” Matthew said graciously. “A friend was making the journey, and I joined him on the spur of the moment. I did not even have time to post a note.”
“You expect to stay here?” Mother Wainwright asked, sounding incredulous.
Lisbeth’s heart dropped. Would her mother really be so cruel as to deny her husband a roof?
“For the night, if you will allow,” he replied, his tone calm and charming. “I would like to visit my parents with Lisbeth and the children in the morning, if she can be spared for a few days.”
“I think it unlikely that Elizabeth will be concerned with my feelings. However, though my husband is coming toward the end of his life, there is no reason to believe it will be in the next few days.”
Mother swept out of the room without giving Lisbeth a chance to reply to her harsh comments. Lisbeth didn’t care. Matthew was here. She hugged him again.
“It is really you?” Lisbeth smiled at her husband. “I’m so relieved. Who did you come with?”
Matthew pulled her down to the couch and whispered, “Emmanuel came to free Samuel. I offered to join him to see if I could be of assistance. I’m prepared to testify that Samuel is employed by me and therefore not a vagrant.”
“So you got my letter?”
“No. Emmanuel received a telegram. Pastor Duhart realized that a White man might be vital to success, and knowing our history, he asked me to accompany Emmanuel.”
A shiver passed through Lisbeth. “Oh, Matthew! Thank you so very much.”
“You know that will be the end of it, for you and your family?” Matthew stared at her intently with his hazel eyes.
Lisbeth sighed. She teared up, but nodded. “I had hoped so much for reconciliation, but there is none to be had for me here,” Lisbeth explained. “Instea
d this journey has helped me see so clearly that I made the right choice . . . to leave.” She smiled at Matthew. “I did not doubt it before; truly I did not. Asking to be your wife was the best decision of my life.” She squeezed her husband’s hand. He smiled at her. Lisbeth continued. “But before this visit I had not realized that Mother, Father, and Jack are not my family anymore. As sad as I am to know it, we have no bonds of affection or trust.”
“So you are at peace with this decision?”
Lisbeth nodded. “An ugly truth is preferable to a beautiful lie. I am certain that I wish to help Mattie and Samuel however we may. Do we have a plan?”
“In the morning we will go to my parents. Emmanuel will meet us there with Mattie and Jordan. I hope he will have learned where Samuel is leased out.”
“I know where Samuel is,” Lisbeth told her husband.
“Where?”
“White Pines. Edward Cunningham has him harvesting the tobacco fields.”
“Will we return to see Grandmother and Grandfather Wainwright before we go home?” Sadie asked as they were packing up in their bedroom.
Lisbeth wrestled with what to tell her daughter. She wanted Sadie to understand this was a forever goodbye, but she did not want the six-year-old to ruin their plans. She decided to tell her but keep her close until they left.
“Can you keep a secret?” she asked Sadie. “A very important secret?”
The little girl nodded earnestly.
“We are going to help free Miss Jordan’s brother. We won’t come back here afterward. So, no, you won’t see Grandmother and Grandfather Wainwright again. But we can’t tell them, because it needs to be a secret that we are helping Mr. Freedman. When you say goodbye to them, in your heart you will know it is forever, but you can’t say that to them.”
“Forever?”
Lisbeth’s eyes welled up. She nodded. “Forever. We won’t be visiting them, or Uncle Jack, or Aunt Julianne, or Cousin Johnny again.”
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