by Ginny Dye
Moses nodded with satisfaction.
Rose continued.
“Franklin told me to assure Moses everything is running smoothly. He will write soon, but he has been very busy repairing tools for the spring planting. The men are all content working for him. They say he is fair, and they believe they will all continue to do well.”
“I knew he was the right choice,” Moses stated.
Rose understood the look of yearning in his eyes. He longed every day to be back on the plantation working the tobacco, but her husband had decided to make the most of being in Oberlin. She turned back to the letter.
“There is something else that will make you very happy. June came to see me yesterday, and I was able to give her the happy news that she and Simon are going to have another baby! They have been wanting another child, so they are very excited.”
Rose sighed. “I’m so happy to be here, but I hate that I’ll miss June’s pregnancy.”
“You’ll not miss all of it,” Moses assured her. “They do have breaks around here. There is nothing to keep us from getting on the train and going back to the plantation for part of this summer.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “I keep forgetting we can afford to do that. It doesn’t seem real that we actually have money in the bank.”
“And a lot in the box under the floorboards,” Felicia added impishly.
“What?” Moses stared at her. “What do you know about that?”
“I know that you took a lot of money out of the bank when we were in Richmond, and you had to hide it somewhere. I just wanted to know where it was. It took me a while, but I finally figured it out.”
Rose thought she should probably be angry, but she couldn’t stop her chuckle. “Our daughter is far smarter than we are, honey.”
Moses tried to look indignant, but he finally laughed too. “Just don’t tell anyone, Felicia. That is our emergency money in case we ever need it.”
“I promise,” Felicia said. “We’re rich aren’t we, Daddy?”
Moses looked amused. “Rich?”
Felicia nodded. “There is a lot of money under there. I didn’t count it, but I could tell it is a thick roll. Are we rich?”
“No,” Moses replied. “But as long as we are smart with the money from the plantation, we’ll never have to worry.”
“You’re going to be rich,” Felicia said knowingly.
Rose was intrigued by the gleam in her eyes. “What makes you say that?”
“I’m reading a book Abby sent me about business. The plantation is going to continue to grow, and more of the acres are going to be planted each year. The profits will continue to increase. Plus, the value of Cromwell tobacco will go up because everyone will know it is the best quality. The business model you are using, Daddy, means everyone will work hard and give you their best effort. You will make more money every year, which means you will be rich,” she finished.
Rose shook her head. “How old are you again?”
Felicia giggled.
“Perhaps we should forget school and return to the plantation so Felicia can handle the business end of things,” Moses suggested. “We can all live out the remainder of our lives as wealthy people.”
Felicia’s smile faded. “We can’t do that, Daddy.”
“And why not?” Moses asked, amusement still gleaming in his eyes.
“Because the battle isn’t over yet,” Felicia said.
Rose reached over and took her daughter’s hand. “What do you mean?” she asked gently.
“Chooli told me about the hundreds of miles she and her family were forced by the army to walk to get to Bosque Redondo. She said they didn’t know where they were going or how long it would take to get there. They just started walking.” She drew a troubled breath. “I think it’s that way for every black person in America.”
“And what makes you feel that?” Moses asked.
Rose was not at all surprised they were taking their daughter so seriously. When it came to keeping a finger on the pulse of the nation, she was far ahead of them.
“There were a lot of people who fought for the slaves to be free,” Felicia explained, “but now that we are, most of those people don’t know what to do with us. The reality of millions of slaves being turned loose into our economy is more than people had thought about or planned for. They wanted us free, but most of the people who wanted that don’t want us to be socially equal. They will fight hard to make sure we stay in our place.” She made a face. “Whatever they have decided our place is.”
“I see,” Rose murmured, uncertain what she could say to alleviate her daughter’s concerns. In truth, she knew Felicia’s assessment was correct. An image of Sojourner Truth flashed in her mind. “I’m not going to tell you it won’t be hard,” she said. “There were both blacks and whites that fought for our freedom. Many of them fought for decades. I’m sure there were times they never thought we would be emancipated. I’ve learned right here in Oberlin that the blacks had to make sure slavery stayed at the forefront of people’s minds and actions because they were the ones most impacted by it. Most of them were slaves who had run away from the plantations.” She gazed into her daughter’s intense eyes.
“Do you think things will ever be right for our people in this country?” Felicia demanded.
Rose saw past the anger to the weary fear in her daughter’s eyes. She ached that one so young had to ask such a question, but she had asked the same of her own mother, who had been bound by the shackles of slavery and completely helpless to change things for her daughter. That memory gave her strength. “I can’t give you an honest answer to that question, Felicia. No one can. Your father and I are both doing all we can to make that answer be yes, but neither of us has any idea whether it will happen in our lifetime.” She sipped her tea as she gathered her thoughts. “All I know is I can’t stop trying. When I get tired, and when I wonder if it will make any difference at all, I try for you, and for John, and for Hope—and for the grandchildren I will have one day, and the great-grandchildren who will follow in the future. I wonder what their lives will be like. I look at the children in my classroom, and I know I must try for them.”
“You get real tired don’t you, Mama?”
Rose nodded. There was no reason to be anything but honest. “Yes, honey, I get real tired at times.”
Felicia turned her eyes to Moses. “And you too, Daddy?”
“Me, too,” he agreed. “But your mama is right. There are moments almost every day when I wonder if what we are doing will change things. There are times almost every day when I want to go back to the plantation and farm tobacco.” He held up his hand when Felicia opened her mouth to interrupt. “But you are right. The battle is not over yet. There will probably be generations of Americans who believe they have to put us in our place because they are frightened and threatened. I can’t do anything about that,” he said heavily, “but I can fight with everything I have to change the lives of the people I come in contact with. That’s all any of us can do, Felicia. If you look at the way things are for blacks or for women in this country as a whole, then it is too overwhelming. It’s far bigger than one person. You find what is yours to do, Felicia. Then you do it with all your might. Some people will join you. Others will fight you. It doesn’t matter as long as you know you are doing what you are supposed to do.”
Felicia nodded thoughtfully as a long silence filled the kitchen. Sounds of children playing outside in the neighborhood floated past the closed windows. Moses stood to add wood to the fireplace. Rose sipped her tea while she watched her daughter. They had just had a very challenging conversation for a thirteen-year-old, but Felicia wasn’t a normal teenager. Still, she wanted to protect her from the harsh realities of life as long as she could.
Felicia stood abruptly and walked from the room.
Rose looked at Moses anxiously. “Did we say too much?”
Moses shook his head, watching the stairway up to Felicia’s bedroom. “I know that look. She i
s thinking.”
There were some rustling noises, and then Felicia walked back downstairs holding a publication. “Do y’all know who Thomas Carlyle is?”
Rose stared at her blankly, wondering if it was someone she had met in town. “No.”
“Me, either,” Moses said, his expression expectant as he sat back down at the table.
Felicia held up the pamphlet she had brought downstairs. “It doesn’t really matter. He is a Scottish historian and teacher that I read about in Thomas’ library. I don’t agree with him on some things, but he said something that I remembered while the two of you were talking.” She opened the pamphlet and read: “Permanence, perseverance and persistence, in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak.”
Moses listened. “Will you repeat that, please?”
“Permanence, perseverance and persistence, in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak.” Felicia closed the pamphlet. “I am joining you in the fight. I know I’m young, but I won’t always be. I’m going to use my life to fight. I’m going to persevere, and I’m going to persist.”
Rose felt tears of pride welling in her eyes. She held out a hand to Felicia, and one to Moses. “We will fight,” she vowed.
“We will fight,” Moses echoed.
“We will fight,” Felicia said firmly.
*****
Carrie slowed Granite as they started down the trail both of them knew so well. Granite tossed his head, snorted his approval, and then pranced lightly along, kicking up snow as he went. Squirrels chattered from their branches, and a hawk screeched overhead. Carrie took deep breaths of the cold air, knowing it would be a long time before she could return to her sanctuary by the river.
The wagon was packed with hundreds of bottles and packets of herbal remedies that had been carefully wrapped in sturdy wooden crates. She had taken all she felt it was safe to take from her supplies, and then she, Polly and Chooli had made as much as they had time to make. Combined with the large supply of homeopathic medicines ready to be shipped from Philadelphia, they would be able to help many Navajo. She hoped she would also learn even more herbal remedies that she could create once she was in New Mexico. Felicia had carefully copied all the information she had been able to find into the book she had created. Carrie was excited to find the plants she’d read about, and also to learn all she could from the Indians, who would doubtless know far more.
Carrie didn’t realize they had reached the end of the trail until Granite came to a stop and stomped one hoof. She laughed and slid from the saddle, making sure to land on the narrow strip of rocks close to the lapping water so as not to sink into the snow. It had been more than a week since the last storm, but the frigid temperatures kept it from melting. She snuggled deeper into Robert’s thick winter coat, remembering the many times they had come here together. The feel of his coat brought both comfort and grief. She refused to look at the spot in the clearing where Bridget had been conceived, although she had felt compelled to come here before she left on her trip.
“I’m leaving the plantation for a long while.” Carrie spoke the words out loud. She had no way of knowing if Robert could hear her, but it was the only way she knew of to be able to leave. During the long hours of preparation, she had been almost certain she would not actually be able to follow through with her plan. It was as if she were living a fantasy, and just as she stepped off the cliff into bottomless air, she would wake up and discover it was all a dream. She had not woken up. There was a wagon of supplies and packed bags. Evidently, she was leaving the plantation.
She was leaving Robert.
“I have to go, Robert. People need me, but mostly I need to find out who I am without you. I can’t do it on the plantation. I remember who I was with you when I am here. I want to hold on to that and be nothing more, but my heart tells me that is not right.” She fell silent, watching the sun dance across the rippling surface. She had thought coming here would calm her, but it seemed to only agitate her more. She was finally able to face the truth of what she really needed to say. “I don’t know why you told me to stay here. There are some days I feel at peace with that, but mostly I wish I was with you and our daughter. Everything I see here reminds me of what I no longer have…What I will never have.”
A white quartz rock at Carrie’s feet caught her attention. The sun glinted off the shining surface as she reached down with her gloved hand to pick it up. She stared at the glimmering stone, the quartz embedded in a large hunk of gray granite that was the perfect foil for its glowing white brilliance. She supposed Chooli would tell her the crystal had special meaning, and that it spoke of beauty in the midst of harshness, but Carrie could feel nothing but sadness and a swelling resentment. It was just a rock.
She wasn’t necessarily surprised by the depth of her emotion; Biddy had told her grief was like an onion that peeled back to reveal layers for a long time. So no, she wasn’t surprised, but she was tired of the constant battle.
“I’m hoping it will be easier if I’m away from our world,” she whispered. “I don’t know if that makes me a coward, but I know I have to go. I didn’t understand why my father had to leave the plantation when Mother died. I do now.”
Will you love again?
Carrie stiffened as the question seemed to float to her on the breeze. She was quite certain she would never love again. She knew that Anthony, despite his words to the contrary, would like to court her. The same energy she had felt from Harold had made it easy for her to wave him off after the holidays. They were both fine men, but no one would ever replace Robert in her heart.
Abby found your father.
“Good for her,” Carrie said angrily. It felt as if Robert were standing there in the clearing with her. “You told me to stay here,” she snapped, ignoring Granite’s surprised expression. “I’m here, and I’m trying to make the best of it.”
I love you, Carrie.
Carrie choked back a sob, still battling her anger. “I wanted to come with you,” she whimpered. “I didn’t want to be left here without you and Bridget.” The grief felt as raw as the day she had woken to find her husband and daughter were gone from her life forever. In some corner of her mind, she knew it was because she would soon be separated from all that made them real to her. “No one could ever hold my heart like you did,” she whispered.
There was no response, only a brisk gust of wind that kicked up tiny whitecaps on the river. As she stared out at the water, she was transported back to seven years earlier. She had been eighteen, struggling with the reality of her life and wanting nothing more than to leave the plantation to escape her mother’s, and society’s, expectations. Just like that day years ago, dark clouds moved across the sky to blot out most of the sun. Only one bright spot tossed upon the river. Carrie fastened her eyes on the defiant spot. It seemed to be enjoying its moment of rebelliousness. The clouds danced across the sky in a vain attempt to block it out. Just as it seemed they would succeed, the little spot swirled away to light on another tossing wave.
Carrie watched carefully. She vividly remembered the lesson the same dancing spot had taught a rebellious teenager. If the little spot could have spoken, she was sure it would have laughed and told her of the fun of defying the surrounding sameness. It brought her hope. She may be the only one of her kind, but she didn’t want to change. The rest of the world could be clouds, but she wanted to be a bright spot that defied the surrounding sameness. Of that she was sure.
With the reminder came peace. Her heart had churned with so many questions all those years ago, as it did now. Somehow, she had found her answers, walking forward into what had come. There had been heartbreaking times, but there had also been times of great joy and love. She didn’t know what was coming in her new life without Robert and Bridget, but just like she had done years ago, she would live the life she fe
lt she should live. She didn’t care about expectations. She didn’t care about what other people felt she should do. She didn’t believe she could ever love again, but that was not her question to answer today.
“I love you, Robert,” she whispered with her eyes tightly closed. “I love you, Bridget. My loves…” She gripped the rock, and then heaved it as far as she could into the river. As she watched it disappear with a splash, she turned away and mounted Granite.
“I’m going to go find out who I am without you.”
Chapter Twenty
Carrie stared around her with astonishment. Richmond and Philadelphia were both very busy cities, but she had never seen anything like the raucous chaos in Independence, Missouri. Throngs of people filled the streets, while what seemed like hundreds of wagons filled the horizon just outside of town. Plumes of smoke rose from fires scattered across the outskirts of town, where people camped before their wagon trains departed. When she looked the other direction, she could see tree-lined streets stretching outward from the downtown area. Glimpses of elegant homes told her Independence had become more than a rough-and-tumble frontier town that was the launching point for wagon trains headed to New Mexico, California and Oregon. A large two-story courthouse graced the town square, with tall columns that extended from the ground to the roof all around the building, and a charming cupola resting on top.
Carrie stepped down from the train platform, wondering if she would be trampled as soon as she left its safety. She gazed around, wondering where her companions were. They had arrived earlier, but her train had been delayed for several hours by an engine malfunction. She wondered how Janie had handled the long trip across the country, but she knew Matthew would have taken good care of her.
“Carrie!”
Carrie’s head whipped around as Nathan’s voice boomed across the crowd. His red head towered above the rest of the throng, making him easy to spot. “Nathan!” She was glad to see him. The trip had left her tired and drained, and she was looking forward to some rest before they had to meet up with the army unit they would be traveling with. “I’m glad to see you.”