by Ginny Dye
“I’m so sorry,” Carrie murmured. She knew her words were not enough to soothe the pain in Chooli’s eyes.
Chooli continued. “When we finally got to Bosque Redondo, we realized the soldiers had lied to us all along. Many of my people were already there—thousands of them. No one had homes; there was nothing to build with. We dug pits in the ground and laid limbs across them to try to keep some of the weather out. Many were sickened by the water from the nearby river. There was no wood for fires, so we would walk long distances to find some. I’m sure many of my people are still being killed by other Indians while they are out searching for wood.”
Carrie knew by the look on Chooli’s face that she was telling them only a tiny portion of the horror.
“My people are starving,” Chooli said. “The soil there is no good for crops. There are insects that we never saw before, the river floods without warning, and hail comes from the sky. For three years, the crop has failed. Right before I left, the fields had been planted again, but no one has hope. They know it will fail.”
“How will they live?” Carrie asked.
“Will they live at all is a better question,” Chooli shot back, and then looked contrite. “I’m sor—”
Carrie held up a hand. “Please do not apologize. I can only imagine how terrible this has been for you.”
Chooli looked around with a small smile. “I have so much now. My family…” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head. “I don’t know if my grandparents and parents are still alive. My mother was so sick when I left. I didn’t want to go, but Shima, my mother, told me I must. She told me Franklin is a good man and that I must leave to give my child a chance to live. I miss all of them every day.” She gazed down into Ajei’s face. “I hope someday my little girl will meet her family.”
Carrie decided to keep Chooli talking so she wouldn’t have to dwell on being apart from those she loved. “Were there many of your people that were sick?”
“Yes,” Chooli answered immediately. “There are many diseases we have never seen. Many people are sick. We do not know how to help them. The medicine men do their best, but without the herbs for their chants, many are dying.” Her eyes lit with pride. “My grandfather is a great medicine man. He has saved many lives. He does more rituals than anyone.” She looked at Carrie. “Our rituals are very hard to learn. They take a long time.”
“I would love to know more,” Carrie said. She could tell, though, that Chooli was growing fatigued. She was still regaining her strength after her long months on the road. Carrie had more questions, but they would have to wait for another time.
Ajei stirred and began to whimper. Chooli looked down with a tender smile. “My Ajei is hungry.”
“And you are tired,” Carrie replied. “Thank you for all you have told us. I would like to learn more another time.”
Chooli nodded. “I will tell you.” She stood with great dignity and walked up the stairs to her room.
Chapter Eight
Rose looked up from the stack of papers she was sorting through. “Hello, husband.”
Moses looked at the thick stack. “Dare I ask what you are doing?”
“Choosing our college,” Rose replied happily.
Moses smiled at the look of joy on her face. Even amid his own inner turmoil, he was truly excited Rose was finally going to obtain what she had dreamed of for so long. “And have we made a decision?”
Rose cocked her head and regarded him for a long moment. “You really don’t care where we go?”
Moses hesitated. He probably should care but that didn’t change the reality that he didn’t. His days were spent teaching Franklin all he needed to know to run the plantation. They were working closely with the men to prepare the plantation and fields for winter. The early November snow had been all the warning Moses needed that it would be a harsh winter. The snow had receded with the more moderate temperatures that followed, but he had the men laying in an even bigger supply of firewood. They had spent days hauling in downed trees from the woods and were now cutting and chopping them. He was sending everyone home early enough to make sure they had daylight to cut wood for their own families as well.
“Moses?” Rose pressed.
“I’m sorry,” Moses responded. “I was thinking about what else I need to teach Franklin before we leave. No, I really don’t care where we go. I know you won’t choose a school where we both can’t study what we need. Where it is doesn’t seem important.”
“Even if it is in the North?”
Moses thought of the brutal winter in Philadelphia. “How far north?”
“Ohio.”
Moses thought through what he knew about colleges in the United States that accepted both black students and female students. “Oberlin?”
“That would be the one.” Rose put down the sheaf of documents she was holding. “It will be colder even than Philadelphia.”
Moses had no idea what the weather would be like in northern Ohio up near Lake Erie, but he suspected it would indeed be frigid. He and Miles had talked about the cold in Canada. Oberlin College wasn’t quite that far north, but far enough to make a Virginia winter seem mild by comparison. “You believe it’s the best place?”
Rose nodded her head firmly. “I do.” She met his eyes. “I don’t think I want to take our family into any city in the South right now. I don’t want Felicia to have to live in fear again, and I don’t want to have to worry about John and Hope while we are in class.”
Moses heard beyond the calmness in her voice and suddenly had a much deeper understanding of how painful the last months had been for her. She lived with fear every day because the school she had built was always in danger of being attacked or burned to the ground. Wanting his wife to finally have a time when she felt safe completely overrode his nebulous feelings about going to college. She had made so many sacrifices—now it was his turn. His smile was warm and sincere. “Oberlin sounds perfect.”
Rose sighed with relief. “You mean it? Don’t you want to know more?”
“Yes, I mean it. And, yes, of course I want to know more. I’m assuming you have a plethora of things to tell me.”
Rose raised a brow. “Plethora?”
“A plethora,” Moses repeated smugly. “It means a large or excessive amount.”
“I know what it means,” Rose retorted. “I just didn’t realize it was part of your vocabulary.”
“What? You think you’re the only one preparing to go to college?” Moses loved the look of surprised admiration on his wife’s face. “If I’m going to be a lawyer, I have to speak as well as those fancy white ones or I won’t be able to make a difference for our people.”
Rose laughed as she rushed forward to engulf him in a hug. “You’re really all right with this?” She stepped back. “Don’t even pretend you haven’t been struggling with our decision to leave. I know how much you love this plantation. I know you don’t really care that much about being a lawyer, and I know you could be happy farming this land for the rest of your life.”
Moses stared down at her. He should have known Rose would see through his attempts to hide his feelings. What surprised him was how long she had waited to confront him. That, more than anything, said how eager she was to leave. She was only challenging him now because she would feel guilty if she didn’t. He felt his love for her expand. “What you haven’t mentioned is that I love my wife more than I love farming and Cromwell Plantation. The plantation isn’t going anywhere.” He spoke the words he had been telling himself every day. “There may come a day when we return. If not, I will still have had the chance to do what I love, and I will still be half owner of the finest plantation in Virginia. That’s not an insignificant thing. I predict there will be a plethora of men who will be quite jealous.”
Rose laughed and grabbed him in another fierce embrace. “I love you, Moses Samuels.”
“And I love you, Rose Samuels,” Moses said huskily. He kissed his wife soundly and then stepped back, remember
ing what had brought him inside in the first place. “Did I see Carrie in the carriage? Where is she headed?”
“Richmond.”
Moses was surprised. “What is in Richmond? I wasn’t aware of any plans for her to go.”
“A messenger came out today with a letter from Dr. Hobson. Carrie said that if it was important enough for Abby to send it out via a special courier, then she had to go immediately to satisfy her curiosity. Miles told her the weather should hold, so Jeb is driving her in.”
Moses cast a now-practiced eye on the sky outside their window. “She’ll get there,” he predicted. “But she might have trouble getting home.”
“I don’t think she’ll mind,” Rose said. “She took enough clothes for a week. Now that she is so close to going back to school, I think she is eager for some time with Thomas and Abby. And with Jeremy and Marietta,” she added.
*****
Carrie was torn between curiosity about the letter that had her moving down the road toward Richmond, and sheer pleasure at the reality she was going. Rose had rightly guessed that watching the calendar turn to December had made Carrie realize just how soon she would be heading for Philadelphia. She was ready to finish school, but she was not eager to leave the plantation…and she was not eager to be so far away from those she loved. She sobered as she reflected on the months since Robert’s death. She knew she would not have gotten through the trauma without all the people who had surrounded her, refusing to let her give in to her grief and anger. They had loved her despite how horribly she had treated them.
She pushed aside her memories and thought about the letter from Dr. Hobson. It had been very brief, but intriguing. He had requested she come to Richmond at her convenience to discuss her future in relation to some communication he had received from Dr. Strikener. She was quite certain Hobson had been deliberately vague, knowing her curiosity would bring her quickly. She smiled in admiration at how correct he had been. Her smile faded as another thought crossed her mind. “Jeb, are you quite sure everyone will be safe on the plantation?”
“You worried about Miss Susan being the only white folk there while you gone, Miss Carrie?” he asked good-naturedly.
“Oh, nonsense!” Carrie retorted. “I’m more concerned that the vigilantes will attack the plantation while I’m away. I’ve been practicing and have become quite a good shot.”
“I heard that,” Jeb said approvingly. “I reckon we don’t ever know when they might come after us again, but we done learned our lesson good back in the spring. There is not a night goes by that there aren’t men guarding the plantation house and the barn. The white men keep an eye on the school. It ain’t full force, but it wouldn’t take long to scare up all the men we needed. That’s why we were able to stop them so easy at the Harvest Festival. There be plenty of us to take care of things,” he said confidently.
Carrie frowned. “That makes for very long and cold nights,” she mused.
“Yep,” Jeb agreed. “But we ain’t just protecting your home, Miss Carrie. We be protecting our own homes and the plantation. We ain’t gonna let nobody come in here and try to destroy what all of us are working to build. Why, I made me enough money last harvest to add on to my home and buy a plow for my fields,” he said proudly. “A few years back I couldn’t have even dreamed of being able to do such a thing. My kids and wife are all in school, and my wife is teaching me how to read at night. I ain’t gonna let no ignorant vigilante mess that up for me and my family.” He paused. “I got one of the men who lives on the plantation keeping an eye on my family while I be gone, and my Bessie be a real good shot. Just like you,” he said.
Carrie hated that she knew how necessary it was for everyone on the plantation to assume the worst would happen. “I wonder if it will ever change?” She was talking to herself but realized she had spoken out loud when Jeb answered.
“I reckon it get better someday, Miss Carrie, but it ain’t gonna happen soon.”
“How would you define soon, Jeb?”
Jeb kept his eyes on the road as he considered her question. “Ain’t gonna be for some years,” he said finally. “Things be better around here ‘cause Miss Rose opened up her school to all them white folks, but most of the South ain’t like that at all. Moses is right that there be an awful lot of hate in people. That kind of hate don’t go away easy.”
Carrie didn’t bother to argue with him. He was right. Instead of dwelling on it, she focused on the country they were passing through. There were still some brown leaves hanging on the massive oak trees, but strong storms the past two weeks had denuded most of the branches. “Is this winter going to be as cold and snowy as I think?”
“Reckon so,” Jeb agreed. “All the signs be there.”
Carrie thought of all Miles and her father had taught her through the years. “The geese and the ducks have already migrated farther south.”
“Yep. And I saw me a Snowy owl just last night. They don’t usually show up until later in the year.”
“Moses told me the corn husks are thicker than normal this year.”
“They are,” Jeb replied. “My wife done told me a couple months back when she was shucking corn that it was gonna be a real hard winter. Me and my boy chopped up a lot of wood. But the real sign was the caterpillar my daughter done brought me. My daddy taught me about that when I was a boy. The woollybear caterpillar gets real fat and fuzzy when there is gonna be a snowy winter, and it gets a narrow orange band right around the middle.”
Carrie sighed. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know. She knew their winter was going to be extra hard. At least she could be grateful that no one she loved would be fighting battles in the snow. She shuddered as she thought of the thousands of hands and feet that had been amputated from frostbite during the long siege to take Richmond the last winter of the war. She knew the image would never disappear from her mind.
*****
Carrie fidgeted uneasily in the carriage seat. “Can we go any faster?”
Jeb looked back with a laugh. “Only if you know how to pick this here thing up and make it fly. There be an awful lot of folks out today.
Carrie scowled as she eyed the almost total gridlock. “These people ought to be at home.”
“They probably be thinking the same thing about you, Miss Carrie.”
Carrie shifted impatiently and sighed. “I know you’re right. It always takes time to get used to so many people when I come off the plantation.”
“I bet it ain’t as bad as Philadelphia,” Jeb observed.
Carrie eyed the crowds. “I don’t know. There are so many people coming into Richmond now that the war is over. It doesn’t look much better than Philadelphia. I don’t know where they are putting everyone.”
“I’d say it’s a might crowded,” Jeb agreed.
Carrie knew Richmond was also a very tense city. She had talked late into the night with her father, Abby, Jeremy and Marietta the night before. It was coming back from the long years of war, but there were still empty lots testifying to the burned buildings that had been cleared away, and there were still signs of wear and poverty everywhere she looked. The city air was thick with refinery smoke. The people she passed had looks of tired determination on their faces. It would be a long time before Richmond resembled the beloved city of her youth, but at least the guns had stopped booming, and people felt hope.
“It finally be moving,” Jeb announced.
Carrie breathed a sigh of relief as the carriage rolled forward. It took only a few minutes to reach Dr. Hobson’s office once the traffic started moving. The sun shone weakly through a layer of high clouds as they pulled in front of the stately brick house that had been converted into the doctor’s homeopathic clinic.
Jeb had just pulled the carriage to a stop when Dr. Hobson appeared on the porch and started down the walk. Carrie smiled when she saw the man who was just as tall and vibrant as she remembered him from the year before. There seemed to be a little more gray in his beard, but his
thick hair was still a lush brown, and his eyes still shone with brilliant life.
“Carrie Borden!”
Carrie stepped from the carriage and reached out to clasp his extended hands. “Dr. Hobson. It is so wonderful to see you again.” Dr. Hobson held her hands tightly and gazed into her face. Carrie knew he was looking for the grief that had consumed her. She held his eyes, content to let him see whatever he saw. She would never be the same person she had been before Robert’s murder, but she was ready to move on with her life.
“And it is wonderful to see you,” Dr. Hobson murmured. He glanced at Jeb. “Please pull the carriage around back. There is hot coffee and biscuits in the kitchen for you.”
“Yes, sir,” Jeb answered. “Thank you.”
Dr. Hobson nodded but was already leading Carrie up the brick walkway to his office. “I didn’t expect you so quickly.”
“And I didn’t expect such a vague letter,” Carrie retorted. “You knew my curiosity would get me here right away.”
“I merely hoped,” Dr. Hobson said mildly, his eyes twinkling with fun.
Carrie laughed as she stepped into his house and moved into the office. “I am not known for being a patient woman. Now that I am here, I expect some answers.”
“You haven’t changed.” Dr. Hobson laughed, but then sobered immediately. “Excuse me for saying that. I know you have changed greatly since I last saw you. I am so sorry for your loss.”
Carrie had no desire to talk about Robert. “Thank you. May I ask about the communication you received from Dr. Strikener?”
An elderly lady with silver hair and a plump face appeared at the door. “Your tea is ready, Doctor.”
Dr. Hobson looked up with a warm smile. “Thank you, Victoria. I would like to introduce you to Mrs. Carrie Borden.”