by Ginny Dye
Rose gazed at her for a long moment. “Thank you,” she said in a trembling voice. She paused, as if struggling for words, and then continued, “You’ve told me before that I’m your best friend. It’s been hard for me to believe that sometimes. I mean... I think of you as my best friend, but it’s hard to get over the slave - owner thing sometimes.” Rose put up her hand when Carrie opened her mouth to protest and then continued. “It’s impossible for you to understand how I feel. You’ve never been a slave.”
Carrie closed her mouth. She couldn’t argue with that. She could try to understand, but she knew she would never fully comprehend what Rose had felt over the years.
Rose looked her squarely in the eyes. “I love you, Carrie Cromwell.”
Carrie wasn’t embarrassed by the tears pouring down her cheeks. “I love you, too, Rose.” A long moment passed, and then she asked, “Do you mind not having your own last name?”
“What?” Rose asked blankly.
Carrie laughed. “I’m sorry. I guess I spoiled the moment. I just thought of it all of a sudden. I mean, my name is Carrie Elizabeth Cromwell. Your name is Rose. I know you are supposed to take on the name of Cromwell since my father owns you, but doesn’t that seem strange to you? Wouldn’t you like to have your own last name?”
Rose laughed and then nodded. “You can change subjects and moods faster than anyone I know,” she declared. “But yes,” Rose said thoughtfully, “I’d like to have my own last name someday. Moses and I talk about it sometimes. What we will call ourselves when we are free - what name we will give our children.” Her eyes shone as she talked. “We haven’t decided yet.”
Carrie smiled. “Just make sure I know what it is so that I can find you if I ever need to.”
Rose nodded. “I wonder what Miles calls himself now.”
“Or Sadie,” Carrie added. She smiled as she thought of the wild jubilation that had erupted in Sarah’s cabin when she had read them the part of Aunt Abby’s letter that had spoken of Miles and the rest reaching freedom in Canada.
“Do you like growing up?” Rose asked suddenly.
“Talk about changing moods and subjects,” Carrie teased. Then she sobered as she thought about the question. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I still want to be a little girl, with all of my problems being taken care of for me. Then I think I wouldn’t give up my new freedom to make my own decisions for anything. I like making my own decisions,” she said thoughtfully. “I guess I don’t always like living with the consequences, though.” She thought again before she spoke. “I’m not sure I like growing up right now. The whole country seems to have gone crazy. Your mama told me something the last time I talked to her, though.”
“What’s that?”
“She told me every generation of people growing up thinks they are growing up into a harder time. She thinks maybe it makes them feel better about the struggle they have leaving their childhood behind. I’ve thought about it. I think she’s right. Right now we have this war going on. Not so many years ago, we were fighting the
War of 1812. Before that was the fight for independence. The generation before that was trying to carve a life out of a wilderness. The one before that was fighting oppression in England. I guess there’s always something hard going on.”
Rose nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”
“Your mama told me something else. She said folks can blame bad decisions on the times being hard, or they can just admit they made a stupid mistake and fix it. She said that’s the real sign of growing up - when you don’t blame your mistakes on other people or circumstances.”
“That sounds like my mama,” Rose said with a laugh.
Long moments passed while they stared out over the river, both lost in their own private thoughts. Finally Carrie roused herself. “We’d better get back, or they’re going to send out a search party.” She reached over to squeeze Rose’s hand, but she spoke no more words. She had said everything there was to say.
Carrie was whistling as she strode down the path to Sarah’s cabin. It had been a good morning. When she had returned from her ride, she had headed straight into the office. It had taken her the last two weeks to get the books caught up, snatching little morsels of time when she could find them. When she had snapped them shut just minutes ago, everything was up to date.
Sarah was watching for her when she rounded the curve that led to the quarters. Carrie smiled at the sight of the tiny woman standing on her cabin step. As usual, she was dressed in white and her face was wreathed in smiles.
“Howdy, Miss Carrie. I’m real proud you could join me for somethin’ to eat.”
Carrie reached her and leaned down to give her a hug. “Hello, Sarah. Thank you so much for inviting me.” She looked around the cabin and was surprised to find it empty. “I thought Moses and Rose were joining us.”
“No,” Sarah said shortly. “I just invited you. I got some thin’s I be wantin’ to say to you.”
Carrie gazed at her and tried to discern the look in her eyes. It was a look she had never seen before and could not interpret now. She knew better than to ask questions, though. Sarah would tell her what she wanted to tell her when she was good and ready. “What are we having for lunch?” she asked instead.
Sarah nodded her head approvingly. “Just got done bakin’ some sweet taters. I reckon you’d get mighty tired of dem things after a while, but I’s learned a long while back that you wouldn’t be happy without some o’ my ‘taters.”
“Nobody cooks them like you, Sarah.”
“Nonsense! ‘Taters be ‘taters. But you can believe whatever you want to believe. Always did anyway!”
Carrie laughed and moved to sit down at the tiny table. She lifted the edge of a rough napkin and sniffed appreciatively at the biscuits staying warm underneath. Then she looked in surprise at the fire. Sarah was the only one in the quarters that didn’t cook over the community fire in the heat of summer. “Is that a chicken you’re cooking, Sarah?”
“Looks like a chicken to me.”
Carrie couldn’t hide her surprise. “A chicken in the middle of the day? Is there some special occasion I’m not aware of.”
“I’d say you’re pretty special, Miss Carrie.”
Carrie looked at Sarah sharply. Her voice had grown softer when she made the last comment. What was going on? A feeling of uneasiness crept into her, though for the life of her she couldn’t identify why.
Sarah laughed warmly then. “You gots too many questions, Miss Carrie. Can’t a old woman do somethin’ nice for somebody she cares about widout havin’ to be pestered with so many questions?” The teasing was back in her voice.
Carrie sighed with relief. “Sure you can, Sarah.” Then she patted her stomach. “I’m starving!”
“Dat’s more like it,” Sarah said with satisfaction.
Within moments they were seated in front of a feast. Carrie moaned in delight as she took a bite of her tender, piping hot sweet potato and savored the taste as it melted in her mouth. Her long ride had indeed made her hungry. She didn’t care about talking any more until her stomach was full.
When she finished, she looked up to see Sarah staring at her. “Is there something wrong with the way I look?” she asked teasingly.
“What you doin’ bout your dreams, Miss Carrie?” Sarah asked suddenly.
Carrie stared at her, wondering what had prompted that question. She recognized the look in Sarah’s eyes, though. She had something she wanted to say. Whatever it was, Carrie knew it would be worth hearing. “My dreams are there, Sarah. I’m just waiting for the right time to make them come true. I know I’m supposed to be here for right now.”
“You gettin’ scared to leave dis plantation, girl?”
Carrie thought for a moment then slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m content for now because I’m where I need to be. But I dream about the day I can leave. I dream about going to school to be a doctor.”
“You make sure of dat.” Sarah p
aused and then continued. “Sometimes people can think dey have dreams. Dey can ponder on those dreams - make dem seem like the most important thin’ in the world to dem. But then dey wait too long to make dem dreams come true. Thinkin’ bout dem dreams becomes more important - and safer - dan actually livin’ dem dreams. When deir time comes, the dream don’t have ‘nuff power to get past deir fears.” She stopped, and looked long and hard at Carrie. “Then dey spend the rest o’ deir life regretting dem dreams passed dem by. I don’t want dat for you, girl.”
“I don’t want that either, Sarah,” Carrie said softly, still wondering why Sarah had picked today to tell her all this.
“You been studyin’ dem books yo’ Aunt Abby sent you?”
Carrie flushed and shook her head. Sarah was talking about the large package of medical books Aunt Abby had sent her just before the mail had stopped. She had sent a note saying the books would give her a head start until she could leave the plantation.
“Why not?” Sarah snapped.
“I’ve been so busy,” Carrie protested. “I barely have time to do the things I have to do.”
“Nonsense!” Sarah said sharply. Then she leaned forward and fixed Carrie with her eyes. “You listen to me good, girl. You done got the healin’ gift. You got it good. It ain’t nothin’ you done. It be a gift from God. But you better not let dat gift go to waste. You got to stretch it. You got to work it. Dreams are like dat, too. You got to stretch ‘em. You got to work ‘em. Most of the people in this world have dreams, but dey too lazy to make ‘em come true. Dey want it to be easy. Big dreams don’t come easy, you hear me?”
Carrie nodded, listening with all her heart. She had seldom seen Sarah so intense. She knew she had better listen.
Sarah continued. “I don’t want to hear nothin’ bout being too tired to work on your dream. You goes ahead and do the thin’s you got to do. And den you work on dat dream. God’ll give you the strength to do it when you think you don’t got none. And another thin’,” she added in a suddenly stern voice. “Make sure you ain’t fillin’ up yo days with dream killers.”
“Dream killers?”
“Dream killers!” Sarah repeated, nodding her head. “Dey be all those thin’s you think be so infernal important. You step back and take a look. Dem thin’s may not be all dat important. Not if they be robbin’ you of yo’ time to follow yo’ dream. Dis here plantation will suck you dry if you let it. Dere always be one more thin’ dat need to be done. You can one more thing yo’ way right into the death of yo’ dream.” She paused again. “You got what I’m sayin’ to you, Miss Carrie?”
Carrie nodded. “I’ve got it.” She knew Sarah was right. She spoke slowly. “You’re right as usual. I’ve been letting other things take up my time. I’ve been waiting until I could leave - not making the most of my time here to prepare for that time.” Suddenly, all the wasted hours raised their heads to taunt her. “I’ll start studying tonight, Miss Sarah. I’ll do all I can to make sure I’m ready for my dream,” she promised.
Sarah nodded her head, obviously satisfied with what she saw on Carrie’s face. “I believe you,” she said simply. “Just you remember one more thing. God be the one dat plants dreams in yo’ heart. Dem thin’s you think be sent yo’ way to kill yo’ dream? Dey really be thin’s sent to make you stronger. Better able to live dat dream. Don’t you be runnin’ away from the hard times. Embrace them and suck all you can out of ‘em.” Then she closed her eyes briefly. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to lay down for a little while.”
Carrie looked at her in sudden alarm. She had never in her life heard Sarah say she was going to lie down in the middle of the day. “Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.
Sarah opened her eyes and barked a laugh. “I’m right as rain,” she said. “Can’t a old lady get some rest if she needs it?”
Carrie nodded, trying to ignore the uneasiness she felt deep inside.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rose looked up in surprise as she heard the sound of hoofbeats behind her. “You going riding again, Carrie?”
Carrie nodded as she pulled back on the reins and brought Granite to a halt. “I’ve got some thinking to do. As usual, your mama gave me a lot to ponder. I always listen...” She paused for a long minute. “This time somehow felt different. Like she was trying to open my heart so she could pour her words and feelings right into it.” She shook her head. “There was something about her intensity...” Again she paused. “Anyway, I’m going to take a ride and let what she said sift around in my head.” Raising her hand, she moved Granite into a trot. “See you later,” she called over her shoulder.
Rose watched her for a moment and then continued walking. She was on her way to her mama’s . One of the children had come running up to her at the house and told her that her mama wanted her. There had been nothing about the child’s face to alarm her. Her mama probably just needed something done. Rose had noticed she hadn’t seemed as strong lately.
“Hello, mama,” she said cheerfully as she walked through the door. “Hannah said you wanted to see me.”
Sarah, from where she was seated in her rocking chair next to the crude window, nodded. “Yep.”
Rose walked over and took the chair across from her. “You look tired, mama,” she said with a sudden anxiety. Suddenly she noticed how hot and still the cabin was. The only sound was the buzzing of flies. “Why don’t we go sit outside? There is more of a breeze there.”
Sarah shook her head firmly. “I be all right, girl. And what I gots to be sayin’ be best said without listenin’ ears pokin’ in.”
Rose sat back in surprise. “What do you want to tell me, Mama?” Now she felt even more anxious.
Sarah gazed at Rose tenderly for a long moment, her hands resting easily in her lap. “You been the best daughter a body could ever hope to have, Rose.”
Rose didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” she finally murmured. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that her mama loved her, but she didn’t usually tell her right out.
Sarah continued to stare at her for several minutes. The silence built in the cabin. She seemed to finally make up her mind about something. “I got somethin’ I want to tell you.” Her voice was grave and quiet.
Rose sat silently, having no idea what her mama could have to say that would make her so serious. She had never seen her quite like this - with the mix of fear, determination and sorrow shining from her eyes.
“You wouldn’t remember nothin’ ‘bout Old Marse Cromwell,” she began. “The one who be Miss Carrie’s granddaddy.”
Rose shook her head. Old Master Cromwell had died when she was still very young.
“He wadn’t much like Carrie’s daddy. He treated us slaves all right, but he didn’t have no trouble usin’ the whip if he thought it be needed. And he didn’t always limit his time in bed to bein’ with his wife.” She paused a moment, seeming to remember. “Course, that still happens a lot now. When a man owns you, he figures he can do with you what ‘ere he wants. Old Marse Cromwell that the way he figured.”
Rose stared at her, wondering where in the world she was going with this. Why was she telling her this?
Sarah continued. “When I first done got to dis plantation, I didn’t look old like I do now. People done used to tell me I was right nice to look at,” she said with a smile, but then her expression turned sad. “Well, Old Marse must’ve thought the same thin’. Me and John, we’d just got married, but dat didn’t stop Old Marse from comin’ down to my cabin one day. I was sick with a little fever and wadn’t workin’ in the field dat day. John wadn’t nowhere around. I reckon Old Marse knowed dat.” She stopped and took a deep breath.
Rose held her breath, sure she knew what was coming next.
“Anyway, Old Marse had his way with me dat day. I tried to stop him, but he just laughed at me. Told me he could do what he wanted with what was his. Told me the whip was waitin’ for me if I thought I would like dat better.”
Rose fought to hold
back the tears at the look of pain on her mama’s face. Sarah’s eyes were glazed with remembering.
“When John got home dat night I didn’t tell him. I was afraid of what he would do. And I was afraid of the whip for him.” She paused again, almost as if she couldn’t go on. But then she continued. “Den not too many weeks later, I come up pregnant. My John be so excited. He always wanted childrun. He be willin’ to take the chance of being separated from dem even though it broke his heart to think dey might be sold away from us. He wanted childrun - lots o’ dem,” she said, her voice trailing off to a whisper.
All Rose could do was to sit and listen.
Sarah took a deep breath as if to steady her nerves. “Miss Carrie’s mama was the one who helped deliver you, Rose. You and your brother...”
Rose jerked forward in the chair. “My brother...? What are you talking about, Mama? You didn’t ever tell me I had a brother,” she cried. “You mean to tell me I was a twin?”
Sarah nodded, asking her with her eyes to hear it all. “Yes, Rose, you was a twin. Dere was two of you. Two fine babies!”
“What happened? Did my brother die right away? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Sarah continued as if she hadn’t heard her questions. “Miss Abigail was smiling when you done come out, Rose. You was the first baby. It was easy to tell right at the first dat you was going to be a beautiful girl.” She smiled, remembering. Then her smile faded. “I was surprised as anyone when I felt another baby comin’. I was excited, too. Ain’t too many twins born ‘round here. Den I saw Miss Abigail’s face. She wadn’t smilin’ no more. First I thought my baby be sick or somethin’ wrong with him. She didn’t say nothin’ at all - just held my baby boy up so I’s could see him. I think if she could have got him out of the room without my laying a eye on him, she would have.”