by Ginny Dye
Carrie suddenly realized she was doing nothing more than creating a new problem. Hadn’t she already done enough of that? And she didn’t really have any idea how Biddy and Faith felt about her staying longer. She smiled graciously and nodded her head. “Then we must go,” she said quietly as she pushed back from the table.
Biddy took her arm as everyone was walking outside. “You’re welcome back anytime, Carrie. You can sit in my library for as long as you want.”
“And hear the rest of your story?”
“Every bit of it,” Biddy agreed.
Carrie smiled gratefully and caught Faith’s eyes. “And I can hear your story?”
“Certainly,” Faith assured her. She reached out and grasped Carrie’s hands. “The blood of your ancestors runs in you, but you are proof that new actions and beliefs can completely change people’s lives. They can completely change how our world operates. One day you will be the person that people look back on as their ancestor. It’s a legacy you can be proud of.”
“You know so little about me,” Carrie said faintly.
“Not true,” Faith said. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to tell who a person is by what is in their eyes. You learn to read their hearts. I’ve learned what I need to know to be sure you are determined to leave a legacy your ancestors can be proud of.”
Carrie impulsively leaned forward and kissed Faith warmly on her cheek, and then did the same to Biddy. “Thank you. I will return as soon as I can.” She saw the caution flare in Biddy’s eyes. “And don’t worry, I will have a driver bring me. I’m trying to learn not to let my impulses get me into danger.”
Biddy laughed. “I suspect your impulses will get you into plenty more trouble, Carrie, but I’m glad you’re going to use a driver. Most of the folks in Moyamensing are fine people who are struggling to survive in a system that barely considers them human, but there are some that have let their anger and resentment steal the goodness from their hearts. It’s best to be wise.”
Carrie opened her mouth to ask more questions, but a quick glance told her the other women had already seated themselves in the carriage. She knew the sun beating down on them must be brutal. “I must go,” she murmured. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“We’ll be here waiting,” Biddy said cheerfully.
Moses rounded the curve on his gelding, Champ, his eyes glued to the front door of the plantation house. His smile erupted into a laugh when the door swung open less than a second later.
“Daddy!”
Moses urged Champ into a canter as John leapt off the porch and raced toward him. He saw Rose emerge from the house behind him, an indulgent smile on her face as she shaded her eyes to watch her son.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
John flew into Moses’ arms the instant he pulled Champ to a stop and vaulted to the ground. Moses took a deep breath of happiness as his son’s arms encircled his neck in a tight squeeze. Nothing could be more satisfying than this. He caught Rose’s eyes over the top of John’s head and knew she was feeling the same thing.
Suddenly John squirmed to be let down. “I’m ready, Daddy! I’m ready! And so is Patches!”
Moses chuckled. John lived for his afternoon riding lessons on his beloved pony. He was improving so quickly. Robert had told him yesterday that he would soon be ready to go riding in the fields on his own. It had been almost impossible to put him to sleep the night before. All he could talk about was working with his daddy.
Amber appeared and reached for Champ’s reins. “I’ll take him, Mr. Moses.”
Moses relinquished the reins willingly. “Thank you, Amber. Is…?
Amber didn’t let him get the question out. “Patches is ready for you and John,” she assured him.
“Now, Daddy, now!” John yelled, dancing around in the dusty dirt road.
Moses laughed and swung him back into his arms. “First I go see your mother and sisters, young man.” He saw Annie move out onto the porch with a platter of glasses. “And have some of that lemonade your granny fixed.” He treasured the lemons Abby sent from Richmond on a regular basis.
“I helped squeeze the lemons,” John said importantly. He cast a yearning look at the barn but seemed content to be carried.
“Then I especially need to have some,” Moses said, winking at Amber before he turned toward the house. His fatigue from a long day under the searing sun in the tobacco fields melted away as he strode up the steps. The fact that he was co-owner of Cromwell Plantation was still something that seemed utterly surreal. He took a moment to gaze at the elegant, white three-story house graced with a tall columned porch. He was grateful for the towering oak trees that flanked both sides of the house, casting shade that protected it from the worst part of the heat. He was especially grateful his son would never know the unrelenting labor of slavery, nor bear the scars from whippings that he always would.
Rose gave him a warm kiss when he strode onto the porch. She took John from him and motioned him to his chair. “Your son has been watching for you almost since you left after lunch.”
Moses smiled when John clambered into his lap. He let John ride with him in the mornings but always brought him home before it got too hot. “Did you take your nap, son?”
“Yes, Daddy. I wanted to make sure I be ready for Patches.”
“I wanted to make sure I would be ready for Patches,” Rose corrected.
John sighed dramatically. “I’m only four, Mama.”
Moses could see Rose bite back her laugh. Both of them knew his beloved Fe-Fe had taught him that.
“Just because you’re only four doesn’t mean you don’t have to learn to speak correctly,” Rose replied, reaching down to rub the top of his curly, black hair. The softness of his hair was the only testimony to the fact that Rose was half white, making her son one quarter white.
“Yes, Mama,” John said meekly, his eyes dancing with fun as he squirmed in Moses’ lap.
Moses chuckled. “Is Hope napping?”
“Yes,” Rose said, relief evident in her voice. “I’m not sure if the crawling or the teething is going to do me in first. If it weren’t for your mama, I don’t think I could handle it.” She wiped at the sweat on her forehead.
“And Felicia?”
“She disappeared right after lunch. I haven’t seen her since.”
Moses wasn’t concerned, though Felicia was still somewhat of a mystery to him and Rose. He hoped the day would come when she would reveal what she secretly did, but they were content to leave the timing up to her. She was healthy, and she obviously loved them. That was enough for now.
He closed his eyes with relief as the lemonade soothed his parched throat. He drank water constantly when he was in the fields, but his mama’s sweet lemonade was the only thing that could make him feel satisfied.
“The crops are good?” Rose asked.
“The best I’ve ever seen,” Moses said with satisfaction. She asked him every single day. He knew it was more because she enjoyed his excitement than because she cared about tobacco, but he appreciated the opportunity to talk about it. “The flower heads have just begun to form. Right now the men are still pulling the heads and the suckers off the plants, but we’ll begin the actual harvest next week.” He grinned at her. “Thomas is going to be pleased, and we’re going to have a large amount of money for school next year.”
Rose gazed at him. His dancing eyes said it would be more money than she could possibly imagine. Of course, that would not take much. The idea of both of them going to college was more than she could comprehend. She had been dreaming of going to college to truly become an educator for years. Moses’ dream of becoming a lawyer so he could help their people was much newer, but the strength of his passion made up for the newness. “It just doesn’t seem real,” she murmured.
Moses considered her words as John gazed longingly at the barn. John knew better than to interrupt when they were talking, but the tension in his little body said he was ready to leap into acti
on at any moment. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.” He laughed. “Of course, most of our life seems like a fantasy right now, so it’s just one more thing.”
“I think about it all the time,” Rose admitted. “I love my school, but I’ve dreamed of going to college for so long.” Her eyes glittered. “It’s such an amazing time to be alive, Moses.”
Moses nodded, but he looked away, hoping she wouldn’t see what was in his eyes.
“There’s trouble,” Rose said flatly.
Moses knew it wasn’t a question. He looked back at her. He had promised to always be nothing but honest. “It’s just something I feel,” he protested. “Nothing has happened.”
“But it’s coming.”
“It could be something else,” Moses insisted. He wished he was better at hiding his feelings, but he’d never been able to hide anything from Rose. “I have no reason to believe trouble is on the way.”
John frowned and patted his face. “Trouble, Daddy?” He turned to peer down the road. “Is trouble coming?”
“Absolutely not, son,” he said confidently. He longed for his son to never know the trouble he had known growing up. He knew America was much too volatile for his wish to come true, but he would protect John as long as he could. He put down his glass, shifted John off his lap, and stood. “I say it’s time for a riding lesson.”
Just as Moses knew he would, John forgot all about the possibility of trouble. His face split with a wide grin before he turned and ran down the stairs. “Patches!” he yelled. “Patches!”
Rose laughed, forcing her heavy thoughts away. She lifted her face for Moses’ kiss and smiled. “It doesn’t matter what might be coming. We’ll just deal with whatever it is.” Her eyes focused on John dancing at the base of the stairs. “Right now you have a son eager to go riding.”
Rose listened carefully as she entered the house, relieved when only silence echoed around her. Hope was still sleeping. She lifted her head to sniff the aromas in the house. The rich smells told her Annie already had dinner well on its way to being prepared. She gave a tired sigh of relief and turned toward the library. It seemed like it had been months since she’d had time to spend in her haven. She frowned when she realized it actually had been months.
Her frown morphed into a smile as she remembered all the times Sam had protected her presence in the library when she was a little girl. He had shown her how to scoot under the table he had covered with a long tablecloth, and he had taught her how to listen with what he called “both ears.” She was always careful to not be caught in the library, believing Sam’s warning that her status as Carrie’s slave would not protect her from punishment, but there had been a few times when she had not had time to escape out the side door before Carrie’s mother had come in. Each time, she had managed to slip under the table before she was discovered. One time she had to sit there quiet as a mouse for two hours while she heard Carrie calling for her. When she had finally been able to escape the library, she had been sent to bed with no supper as punishment, but she knew it would have been far more serious if they had actually caught her. Only Carrie knew that she had learned to read. Because it was forbidden for slaves to learn how to read, they had both been forced to keep it a secret.
Rose was humming quietly when she walked into the library. She stopped to take a deep breath. She never tired of the rich fragrance of books. She knew she was smelling the leather bindings, but she had always imagined it was the fragrance of knowledge filling the air.
She wasn’t sure what alerted her to the fact that she wasn’t alone. There wasn’t a noise—it was more a feeling that made her walk over to the tall wingback chair that had been pulled close to the window. “Hello, Felicia,” she said, smiling when she heard a sigh of resignation.
Felicia peered around the edge of the chair, her face puckered with worry. “Am I in trouble, Miss Rose?”
Rose had encouraged Felicia to call her “mama” whenever she was ready, but she wasn’t sure the little girl with eyes much too old for her young face would ever do that. Moses had explained the horror she had experienced when she watched as her parents were murdered during the riots in Memphis. Felicia never talked about it, but the things she cried out in her sleep revealed her parents had been her whole world. She missed them dreadfully, and she carried vivid memories of their murder.
Rose sat down in the other chair. “Of course not, Felicia. Why would you think you would get in trouble for being in the library?” She knew Felicia had grown up in slavery, but she didn’t know anything about the plantation she had come from. Her parents had escaped with her to Memphis just months before the war ended.
Felicia frowned. “Everybody knows slaves aren’t allowed in the library.”
“You’re not a slave,” Rose said. “You are a free little girl.”
Felicia frowned again. “That be an easy thing to say, but it’s not a real easy thing to live.”
Rose didn’t bother to correct her language. The fact that Felicia was talking to her was far more important than her grammar. “That’s true,” she agreed. “I remember when I first escaped from the plantation. I didn’t know how to live like a free person. It was hard to stop thinking and acting like a slave.”
Felicia stared at her. “Really?”
“Really,” Rose assured her. “It got easier every day, but it took me a long time to truly feel free.”
“How long?” Felicia demanded.
Rose thought back. “I suppose it wasn’t until I left Philadelphia and started teaching at the contraband camp. I guess it was about eight months.” She closed her eyes and remembered. “The first day I stood in front of my own class as a teacher was the day I started to feel free. It just kept growing from there.”
Felicia considered her words. “How did you learn how to read, Miss Rose?”
“Right here in this library,” Rose answered, not surprised when Felicia gazed at her with disbelief. “It’s true. I was Carrie’s slave. When she came to be tutored, I came with her. They certainly weren’t teaching me, but I listened hard. Then I went back to my room and practiced what I heard. Pretty soon I was reading.”
Felicia still looked like she didn’t believe her. “What did you use to practice?”
“Books from this library,” Rose revealed.
“How?” Felicia gasped.
Rose understood Felicia’s shocked amazement, but what surprised her was the feeling of guilt that seeped into her own thoughts. Even after all these years, the shame and fear she had suffered as a child could rise up to taunt her. She lifted her chin. “I learned how to sneak in and borrow books from the library.”
“You took them? From right here in the library?”
Rose nodded. “I was desperate to learn how to read. Once I did, I was desperate to learn everything I could.”
The amazement faded from Felicia’s eyes, only to be replaced by a burning scrutiny. “Did you ever get caught?”
Rose shook her head. “Sam made sure I never did,” she said. Her mind was full of the man who had been like a father to her all her life.
“Sam?”
“He was the butler here on the plantation,” Rose explained. “Sam died on Christmas Eve this past year.”
Felicia looked at her sharply. “I thought Hope was born on Christmas Eve.”
“She was,” Rose confirmed. “It was a night of tremendous loss, and also unbelievable joy. Sam always took good care of me.” She pushed aside the swell of sadness and told Felicia about how she had to hide under the table a few times to escape capture. She delighted in the little girl’s laugh. When Felicia first arrived, she laughed more freely in spite of all she had been through. As the months passed, however, she seemed to have become more withdrawn.
“How did you read at night? Slaves didn’t have lights in their rooms.”
Rose smiled. She understood Felicia’s suspicion. “That’s true. Sam used to take the remnants of candles and hide them under my mattress, along with some matches. I would
sit in the corner so no one would see the light.” Memories swamped her. “Sometimes I would read all night. I would be exhausted the next day, but it was worth it.”
“Because you had to learn,” Felicia said solemnly.
Rose gazed at the little girl, caught by the intensity of her expression. “Yes,” she agreed. “I had to learn. It was like a hunger that ate inside of me all the time.” The quick light in Felicia’s eyes urged her to continue. “Just like I had been desperate to learn to read, I was desperate to study everything I could get my hands on. Sometimes I only had seconds to grab a book and hide it under my apron. I had no idea what I was taking, but it didn’t matter. Whatever was in that book was something I wanted to know, because…” She paused to take a breath.
“Because you wanted to know everything,” Felicia said passionately.
“Yes. I wanted to know everything.” Rose waited patiently for Felicia to say something else.
The little girl stared out the window for a long time, her black eyes accentuated by the long braids surrounding her face. “I don’t care about the horses,” Felicia said suddenly.
“All right,” Rose said calmly.
“And I don’t care about tobacco,” she said.
“Neither do I,” Rose confessed. Felicia stared at her but didn’t seem to have trouble believing her. Rose was thankful Moses was happy working in the tobacco fields, but if she never saw another stalk of tobacco, she would be perfectly happy. To her, it was just a way to help them achieve their dreams.
When the silence stretched out, Rose reached forward to take Felicia’s hand. “What do you care about?” she asked tenderly.
Felicia kept staring out the window for several moments, but finally shifted around so she could meet Rose’s eyes. “I care about knowledge,” she said.
Rose knew the girl wasn’t done, so she remained quiet.
“My mama used to tell me I was going to be so different because I was free. She wanted that for me more than anything. When we got to Memphis she made sure I got to go to school. Even though she couldn’t read a word, she stayed up with me until late at night while I learned. She made me read out loud to her every night.” Felicia’s eyes filled with tears. “My mama told me I could be anything I wanted to be.”