The Solace of Water

by Elizabeth Byler Younts

  But now I didn’t know what to expect.

  “Mama, can we get some?” Harriet picked up an apple. Her voice was loud and it carried around the produce displays. One of the white ladies looked over at us with her little daughter sitting in the buggy seat.

  “I didn’t see—” she started.

  “Harriet,” I loud-whisper-scolded. “Just come over here. Our stuff’s in the back.”

  Then I put a finger over my lips reminding her to speak low. I waved her to keep following. I didn’t want to draw attention. We didn’t need nothing to draw attention to us in this new town.

  “Mama, I want one,” the little white girl from the buggy yelled. “I want an apple.”

  “Not today,” her mother said. The little girl started crying and carrying on and begging for an apple. “Patty, I said no.”

  I just got us all to the back and pretended not to notice the girl’s fit. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a few other white women and the young moms exchanging knowing expressions.

  “She never acts like this. I don’t know what has come over her,” the woman said, breathless, like you get when you get tired of the fussing.

  “It’s because that colored girl asked her mother for an apple— one of ours. And she’s not supposed to touch the produce, but because she did, now your little girl wants it.” The woman said everything over the sounds of the crying and didn’t hesitate to check me over with her eyes a few times.

  I pretended not to notice and looked at my list again, and I got to thinking about what I was led to believe about the North. We went from no signs in town to realizing that these northerners were just pretending to include us. This was not the freedom that the north acted like they could give to Negro families. No signs was one thing, but we weren’t equal.

  The woman was still prattling along. I just ignored her. It was better that way. I hoisted a bag of potatoes into my buggy and I was glad to see they looked good, then moved over to the tomatoes. Ripe and red. It made me wonder why we was separated. Didn’t seem to mean we got the cast-off produce. Maybe this grocer was a nice man as Malachi had said. Then why separate us?

  Before I got the chance to consider that for more than a minute, I heard Harriet’s voice. I whipped my face around and wondered if I was dreaming. Or having a nightmare. What was she doing? It was like my feet was stuck in concrete blocks and my mouth was full of sand. I couldn’t even yell her back over but just watched it happen.

  “Well, bless your heart, Patty. Here’s an apple for you and a penny. You can buy it all by yourself.” Harriet’s precious face smiled up at the girl sitting in the buggy. She even called her by the name she heard her mama use. The little girl got happy and took the apple and the penny from Harriet.

  “Y’all stay right here,” I tell the others and get a move on over there.

  “Patty, don’t touch that.” The mother snatched the apple out of Patty’s hand, who looked as hurt as if her dog just died. Her face went through several slow-moving contortions before a sound came of her unhappiness. But her mama kept at it. “And give me that penny.”

  The mother ain’t getting very far though. Patty kept the penny tight in her fist and stuck out her tongue at her mother between her screaming. That’s when I got there.

  “Harriet, you know better than that.” I took Harriet by the arm and pulled her behind me. Then I turned to the woman. She was even younger than I thought, almost just a girl herself, but she was a whole lot taller than me. Her skin was like porcelain and her hair shiny and she was wearing the prettiest yellow dress. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. She didn’t mean no harm though. We won’t bother y’all again. Have a nice day.”

  The young mother wasn’t sure what to say. Her light eyes were big and round and she stammered a bit, but nothing real came out of her mouth.

  “Sorry?” The older woman guffawed. “This is the reason coloreds should have their own stores.”

  “Harriet, go put the apple back.” Of course she don’t have the apple, my stupid mind forgot this, so my girl put her hand out to the young woman to give back the apple. Then I couldn’t do nothing but wait for a moment.

  The woman held the apple between two fingers and dropped it into Harriet’s outstretched hand. She wiped her hand on her skirt after that. She hadn’t even touched Harriet’s hand though. My girl obeyed right away and took that apple back.

  “She can’t put it back,” the older woman said. “Now the whole basket of them are ruined.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

  “Mama, those apples is for everybody, ain’t they?” Harriet’s southern drawl was so strong it was like she had a banjo tangled up in her mouth. “I don’t see no sign that says they just for the white folks.”

  “Harriet,” I whispered and scolded and tried to shush her all at the same time. And it all made me so sad even when I pinched her arm to stop talking because my girl was right. There wasn’t no sign, but we just were supposed to know our place no matter there be a sign or not.

  She started crying and I knew I pinched too hard in my nervousness. She leaned over to Mallie and he put an arm around her like a good boy and I just wanted to hide. What sort of mama was I anyhow?

  The younger woman still looked panicked and glanced between myself and the older white woman.

  “Is there a problem?” A brisk-sounding voice came from around the corner. A man in a grocer-white jacket with a broad smile now stood among us. His face was clean shaven and rosy. He looked friendly.

  “That colored girl picked up an apple—one of ours—and tried to give it to Marcy’s little girl,” the older woman explained, her wild hands pointing at Harriet, then the apples, then Patty.

  The man looked confused and made the same route with his gaze.

  “Then she put it back in the pile of apples. Now we don’t know which one she touched.”

  “So no one is hurt? Or bleeding?” the man asked. “Linda, I don’t see the problem.”

  “Now, Carl,” Linda responded. “I know you are a sympathizer to”—she looked at me—“coloreds. But don’t think that people won’t stop shopping here if they think all their produce is being touched up. They got their own section. This was all handled in the town meeting and you know how we voted.”

  “Little girl, don’t cry, please.” Mr. Coleman squatted down and looked at Harriet. “Your produce is in the back and the white folks’ is up here.”

  “But there ain’t no signs like back home,” Harriet said and I just wanted to be buried alive.

  The grocer stood up and raised his own eyebrow like I never seen no white man do in all my born days and looked right at that Linda woman.

  “We don’t have signs because we are civilized and progressive in the North. Isn’t that what you said in that same town hall meeting, Linda?” His sarcasm splashed across his smile.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was he giving it to this lady? Had we just walked into some strange new world? If it wasn’t that I was still breathing in and out, I would’ve thought we was sent to the moon. But just when I thought we got all the strange stuff out of the way, I saw Malachi roll a cart from the back toward the canned goods.

  What was he doing? I kept watching him while he stocked cans. He didn’t notice me. The children hadn’t seen him yet neither— which made me thankful because I knew they’d make a fuss. I heard Linda walk off in a huff and Mr. Coleman smooth things over with the young mother, who walked away, but not before he had given the little girl an apple—not the same one Harriet touched, mind you. But my eyes stayed on my husband. He was wearing a white apron and a white hat that reminded me of a sailor.

  The man stood next to me and noticed the direction of my gaze.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be Mrs. Evans, would you? And these must be your children.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m Mrs. Evans.” I found my voice. I looked from Malachi to the grocer. I took a moment to gather myself. “I don’t know what came over my daughter with picking up the apple. Th
ings are different here, so she just got herself a little confused.”

  I was about to tell him that she was not the only one confused and ask why my husband was wearing an apron and pushing a cart around the store when Mr. Coleman held his hand out for me to shake. I shook it.

  “Hi, I’m Carl Coleman. This is my store.” His cheerfulness surprised a smile out of me, but I was nervous so it don’t stay long. He shook my hand so hard that he jiggled my whole arm before he let me go. He looked over at my children. “Little girl who picked the apple, what’s your name?”

  Harriet didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and looked right at Mr. Coleman. “Harriet, sir.” Her eyes looked puffy but she wasn’t crying no more.

  Mr. Coleman walked up to Harriet. My girl was doing her best not to be afraid. “Why’d you pick up the apple?”

  “Because that little white girl wanted one so bad but her mama told her no. I just wanted to make her happy. She was pretty. And I gave her a penny to pay for it too.”

  “I see. Do you like apples?”

  “Sure do. You know somebody who don’t?”

  The man laughed. “Well, since I am noticing that I don’t have any in the back right now, why don’t you and your brothers and sister each go get one. And get one for your mother too.”

  A smile spread over Harriet’s face and I wished she’d have looked at me so I could give her the don’t you move eyes.

  “Mr. Coleman, please, you don’t have to do that.”

  He waved a hand at me as Harriet beamed, picking out an apple for each. I just watched and didn’t know what to do. I knew better than to tell a white man no, but I didn’t feel right about taking anything I didn’t pay for.

  “Now don’t you worry about those ladies that were here. Linda Drake is my cousin and she likes to make a fuss about everything— she got folks in town riled up about this stuff, and I had to divide up the produce in order to stay in business.” He shook his head. “But the other one, Marcy, won’t cause any problems. She comes from a good family. Just doesn’t know to speak up yet.” He was still smiling. “I do my best to keep the Negro section stocked up, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “I’m sure I will, sir.”

  “And look, there’s my best new employee.” Mr. Coleman pointed at Malachi coming with his cart.

  I caught his eye this time and Malachi knew right away that he had some explaining to do. We didn’t have much money, but he never said nothing about working for the grocer. I thought when he left in the mornings he was going to visit with church folks. I guessed he was okay that I believed something that wasn’t true.

  “Daddy,” the little kids said and showed him their apples. He winked at them and then looked at me. He just smiled and looked like Harriet’s innocence.

  “Malachi, you didn’t tell me your lovely wife and children were coming to see us today.” Mr. Coleman clapped Malachi’s arm.

  While Malachi made introductions, Sparrow’s attention wandered. I followed her gaze and saw a slow-walking boy going past the large windows in front of the store. He stopped and locked eyes with Sparrow. They didn’t notice that I saw them.

  But it was just a few moments and he started walking away. It was that Amish boy we saw in the woods, but I didn’t know his name.

  “Deedee.” Malachi’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Mr. Coleman wants to know how you like the house.”

  My husband had this big chiseled-out smile on his face. The one that told me I needed to be at my best.

  “The house?” I questioned.

  “Mr. Coleman is our landlord.”

  I eyed Malachi but didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to ’cause he knew what I was thinking. Why had he not told me before? I turned to Mr. Coleman with a smile.

  “I know that the siding needs a good painting and the porch sags. It wasn’t more than a week ago that Marlene Carter came and asked me about it, telling me that the new reverend was looking for a place to live. When she told me who it was, why, I was glad to rent it out to you. Houses are meant to be lived in, right? Not sit empty.”

  Of course, Marlene Carter. That woman. She had some nerve and so did my husband, for that matter. Keeping me in the dark like that.

  “How do you know Marlene Carter, Mr. Coleman?” I asked.

  “Everyone in Sinking Creek knows everybody else, ma’am. And her son Kenny does some lawn work for me and fixes stuff up around my place. He can fix anything and he’s a nice boy.”

  “Well, I’m mighty grateful to you, sir.” I smiled, purposing to end the conversation. “We are right comfortable in the house.”

  We each made our good-bye formalities to Mr. Coleman and then we were alone. As alone as we could be in a grocery store.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you was working here?” I said through my teeth. “Or about the house?”

  Malachi looked at the three little ones who were listening to us. He smiled. “Didn’t seem like something to worry you over, darling. You have had your mind on—other stuff.” I could tell he meant it, but I could also tell it wasn’t the whole answer. Then his face changed and he looked around the produce department. “Where’s Sparrow?”

  And just like that, Sparrow had flown away again.

  SPARROW

  My shirt was still wet from the puddle water, but when I saw Johnny make a motion for me to come out of the store, I just went. Didn’t matter I looked like filth. Mama and Daddy were too busy to notice me anyhow.

  By the time I got to the door, he was gone. I walked a few steps in the direction he had been going and I was disappointed when I didn’t see him.

  “Psssst, Sparrow.” A loud whisper came from the nearby alley. He was leaning against the alley’s brick wall.

  I looked back across the street where I’d seen some white men notice me when I walked out on the sidewalk. One bald man, who was reading a newspaper, peered up over it and I stood still until he raised it so I couldn’t see his eyes no more. I turned around and took a step off the sidewalk into the alley.

  As soon as I did I felt a light breeze flowing through the narrow path and the sun wasn’t blaring bright neither. I wrapped my arms around myself, even though I wasn’t cold, before I looked up at Johnny.

  He had a nice smile. For half a second another smile flashed in my memory. The boy I was with that day Carver died. The one I was paying attention to instead of Carver. I shook my head to toss that vision away and blinked it gone.

  For a long moment we just stared at each other without no words. Why would he want to stand in a dirty alleyway with dirty me? In Montgomery they always smelled like pee because colored bathrooms were hard to find. But then, this was Sinking Creek and the alley wasn’t so bad. It didn’t smell like pee. But I had mud on my clothes.

  “I got splashed by a truck—puddle water.” I glanced down at my clothes. I was feeling self-conscious.

  “I think you’re pretty,” he said like I some white girl. I wanted to be pretty for him, but when he got his eyes on me like that, I started to remember that my shirt was a little tight and there was a gap between the buttons. My bosoms were too big for it.

  “What are you doing?” Johnny got bluer eyes than I remembered and he was handsome the way he leaned up against the wall.

  I nodded over to the store. “Groceries.” My voice was small and thin and didn’t sound right. I cleared my throat. “What you doing?”

  “Just had to run an errand for my boss at the lumberyard. But I have to go to a wedding now.” He shifted his lean body but kept his gaze on me.

  I didn’t think I ever talked to a white boy before. Well, not like this. Mama didn’t like me talking to any boys ever, even before. This would make her furious.

  “Why ain’t you in school? It’s still May.”

  “We just go to the eighth grade,” he told me. “So I’m done.”

  “We?”

  “Amish.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why aren’t you?”

 
I shrugged. “We supposed to start next week, but I don’t want to go no more.”

  Did he think I was a stupid Negro because I didn’t want to go to school no more? He just didn’t know that it didn’t matter if I got any schooling because I ain’t nobody special. Mama said I had to live at home with her and Daddy for the rest of my life, so there was nothing more I needed to learn to do that. For the rest of my life I would just do housework and sit around and think about what I done. That’s all I got left now.

  But still, he smiled at me. Why he do that? What did his smile mean? It was so different from the boy who had me behind the bushes when Carver died. When I thought on Carver, Mama’s face came to my mind.

  “I gotta go.” I could almost feel a smack against my cheek from Mama. I took a step backward.

  Johnny stood up tall and his face seemed as bright as a sliver of moon in a dark sky. “Can we meet sometime?”

  “What?” I was confused. “You a white boy.”

  He flipped his hands back and forth a few times. “I know. Does it bother you?”

  His smile made my heart turn in a few twists. “When?”

  “Sunday. Daybreak.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “In the woods. There’s a clearing by the creek.”

  I bit my lower lip and said, “Okay.” I turned the corner and my face was in the broad chest of a real big man. Before I could step back, I could smell him. My stomach didn’t like it.

  “What are you doing?” His voice was like a roll of thunder and scared me.

  “Sparrow?” Daddy’s voice came from behind the man.

  The big man turned around toward Daddy and I was lost behind his back. I took a moment and looked back down the alley. Johnny was gone. How had he disappeared so quickly?

  “This your girl?” the booming voice asked.

  I stepped from around the giant man and found Daddy’s eyes. His forehead scowled and I lowered my gaze to the ground. I was in trouble—again.