The Forgotten Girl
Page 14
“Plenty,” said Mrs. Rose. “Have a seat! It’s almost ready.”
“I got some hot cocoa for you two,” Mr. Rose said, handing two marshmallow-topped mugs to Daniel and Iris. “And chocolate milk for Vashti. Would y’all like anything?”
“I think we’d like some tea, thank you!” Mrs. Stone said, Suga nodding in agreement.
Daniel and Iris sat together, sipping their cocoa. The hot drink made Iris feel warmer inside than she already did.
“Tomorrow,” said the newscaster on the TV as the Christmas movie they were watching went to commercial, “the Nelson’s Pond Middle school Cleanup Club’s process on the abandoned, segregated cemetery is continuing, with a ceremony next week, dedicating the cemetery as Avery Moore Perpetual Care.”
“Oh, look!” Mrs. Stone said. “And there’s you, Daniel … and Iris! Look, that’s all of us! On TV again!”
Sure enough, the camera cut to different pieces of footage, including shots of the seven of them helping to restore the graveyard.
“Although it has been difficult to locate the names of all those who are buried here”—Iris saw herself on TV—“we now have the help of Easaw’s Department of Archives and History to match up the more difficult ones. This process will be long, but we are at least excited to dedicate the cemetery with the new headstones donated by Sampson’s Perpetual Care.”
“Some families have even been reunited with loved ones that they assumed were lost forever,” the newscaster continued.
“My grandmother always told me the stories of my great-uncle Henry. When I found out about this cleanup, I knew there was a strong possibility he was buried there,” a woman holding a newborn baby said. “This has been monumental for our family.”
Iris thought about a grave marker she saw—Henry. She smiled.
The newscaster appeared back on TV.
“The Nelson’s Pond step team will be hosting a fundraising step show to continue to raise funds for the cemetery. There will be more information on this on our website, and tonight at eleven.”
Suga sighed contently.
“Oh, I am so thankful,” Suga said, and Mrs. Stone nodded. “So, so thankful.”
“That I am, too, Suga,” said Mr. Rose, setting down two mugs of tea in front of Suga and Mrs. Stone. “That graveyard is historical. I’m glad those buried and their loved ones are getting what they deserve.”
“Me, too, Daddy,” Vashti said. Mr. Rose raised an eyebrow at her.
“What? I care about the neighborhood!”
“And I don’t doubt that for a second, sweetie,” he said, hugging her. She laughed, a chocolate milk mustache shining on her face.
“Dinner is served!” Mrs. Rose yelled from the kitchen.
“Great. I’m starving!” Iris said, getting up from the couch, hot cocoa in hand.
“That’s great about the graveyard,” Daniel whispered as they walked to the dining room. “You know, I hope Avery is at rest.”
“I think she is. I just have a good feeling about it,” said Suga.
Iris stood around the table, holding hands with Daniel and Suga, preparing to bless the food. She was sleeping a lot more soundly at night. She knew the twinkle she felt in the clearing was the last one. It didn’t feel urgent or scary, but calm, warm, and happy.
When she’d visited Avery’s newly restored grave and saw the cool winter sun peeking through the trees, the light dancing on the snow, she’d known. And whenever she’d see it again, as long as she lived, she’d always remember.
Dear Reader,
I have two family members, Uncle Sammy and Great-Aunt Beatrice, buried in Randolph Cemetery in Columbia, South Carolina. This cemetery was for African Americans only. After the Great Migration, when African Americans in the early 1900s moved to the North, Midwest, and West to escape the intense segregation in the South, the cemetery became overgrown and abandoned—the same way Avery’s grave did. In 1959, the city arranged for the cemetery to be cleared out in an urban-renewal program. A bulldozer was allowed to clear out the cemetery, and it destroyed some of the graves in the process! Luckily, a woman by the name of Minnie Simons Williams drew attention to the historical significance of the cemetery and brought a stop to the clearing of it. From there, she and descendants of the founders of this cemetery established the Randolph Cemetery Association to restore and maintain it.
I heard bits and pieces about this cemetery from my grandmother growing up and was shocked that segregated cemeteries existed. I learned that there were many of these cemeteries around the country and wondered how many were still abandoned.
I was also shocked by the story my grandmother told me about the grave markers of my late uncle and great-aunt: That, over time, the grave markers slowly began to rotate, until they faced each other. I’ve seen them myself! These pieces of information had my mind buzzing and made me want to write a ghost story.
Like Iris, when I was younger, I was in a situation where I won an award (ironically, it was a school-wide award for writing!) but didn’t get to attend the ceremony because I was never told about it. I was disappointed, of course. I felt forgotten. But writing was more important to me than being recognized by people who may or may not have wanted to see me win. So I kept writing. And now look—I’ve published my first book! Missing that ceremony doesn’t even bother me anymore. Recognition can be great, but as Iris’s mom says, it isn’t everything. And you don’t have to go looking for it. By working super hard at what you love, it’ll eventually find you.
I hope you enjoyed The Forgotten Girl and found it to be spooky, inspiring, and informative. I worked hard on this book, and I’m so thankful that you took the time to read it.
India
First off, I’d like to thank God and Jesus, for putting this dream in my heart to be an author for as long as I can remember, for making the path to my first novel better than I ever could’ve imagined, and for connecting me with Holly the day I prayed and needed a sign to keep writing. I’m forever grateful.
To Holly Root, my literary agent: THANK YOU for taking the chance on me as an author, understanding exactly the type of author I’d like to be, and always having my best interest at heart. You are amazing, and I’m so thankful for you.
To Emily Seife: I could not have asked for a better editor. Thank you for being patient with my many questions, and helping to make this story the best version that it could be. I’m so grateful to be working with you.
The Scholastic team: I remember poring over the Scholastic Book Club catalog, circling the books I wanted. Sometimes it still feels surreal to be publishing with you. Thank you for the opportunity, and for that special “Book Fair” feeling that I will never forget. To Maeve Norton: Thank you for designing the cover that I love, that feels so perfect for this story. Josh Berlowitz, Kerianne Steinberg, Elisabeth Ferrari, Rachel Feld, Lizette Serrano, and Emily Heddleson: Thank you for all your help in bringing this story to life.
To my husband, Rob: Thank you for replying “Why not?” when I asked you if you thought I could write a ghost story. You support me through all my ideas, stories, and endeavors, remind me to write when I’m procrastinating, and always provide a listening ear to my many, many rambles.
To Mommy: Thank you for always making me feel like I could pursue the career that makes me happy, and never judging me when I quit perfectly good jobs to do just that. Thank you for always pushing me and Eli to follow our dreams.
Ma, thank you for being my own personal Suga, a feisty grandma with all kinds of superstitions. You bring everyone so much joy.
Aunt Annette and Uncle Lamont: You have supported me in so many ways throughout the process of me writing this book! I’m so thankful. And before you say anything silly … “Shut up, Lamont!”
Olivia and Antonio: Make sure you tell everyone at school that your name is in this book. Always follow your dreams, even if they seem hard at first.
To my little brother, Eli: Thank you for being you.
Uncle Tony: I know you ar
e smiling down on us, and I hope I’m making you proud. Thank you for the Harry Potter series you bought me, which ignited my love for them.
Devon, Uncle Greg, Uncle Shawnelle, Deshawn, Alex, Rochele, Ced, Tristyn, Marcel, the entire Hill family: I love y’all. I don’t know of any family closer than us! This book is largely about family, and that’s thanks to you.
To my mother-in-law, Kelley, and Aunt Tracey: Thank you for your continuous support and welcoming me into your family during the time this book was being written!
To the Hollidays and the Schofields: Thank you for the countless trips to the bookstore growing up, and supporting my love for reading.
KaShawn, thank you for always supporting me as a writer! I feel like you were there every step of the way through this process, from beta reading to bouncing ideas off of. You’re the greatest best friend, and I cannot thank you enough!
To my Besties: Tee, Ciera, and Nia. For all the laughs and support for the past eleven (!!!) years and counting! I’m so thankful for your friendship.
To Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc: I’m so happy to be a part of such an incredible sisterhood.
To Claflin University: Thank you for focusing me and helping me to love writing again.
To the Fellows: Jeremy, Marissa, Charlie, and Rachel. Rachel, thank you for printing my manuscript whenever I asked.
To my mentor, Alexa Donne, for always being there for advice during some really pivotal moments in my career. I’m so grateful to have you as a mentor!
Nic Stone, for always being supportive and reaching out to me as a new author. Dhonielle Clayton and Renée Watson, for writing amazing books and being role models. Karen, Lisa, Mariama, and Alicia, for navigating the debut world with me! Shannon Dittemore and Kayla Olson, for sharing in our love for Jesus and writing.
For Robin Lowry, who I knew as Ms. Drucker, my fourth grade teacher. You pushed me to read and write in ways that have shaped me to this day. I remember all the readings you asked me to do of my short stories, all the books you bought for me, how you let me start up a classroom newspaper. Thank you so much!
To the authors who I don’t know personally but who inspire me: J. K. Rowling, for creating the series that made me love reading even more than I already did, the one that I constantly come back to when I feel lost as a reader. The author that made me realize I could do this for a living. R. L. Stine, for being a huge inspiration in this ghost story. C. S. Lewis, for inspiring me as an author and Christian. Morgan Matson, for writing really awesome books. Jenny Han—I had a ticket to see you in NYC, but it was the day Holly called and offered me representation, so I missed it. Thank you for creating Lara Jean.
Lara Willard: Four years ago I told you that I’d thank you in my acknowledgments for all your help. I haven’t forgotten!
To the Bookish Community: Finding you was the push I needed to read, write, and share my love for books in the way I’ve always wanted. Thank you.
Lastly but certainly not least: the readers. Thank you for taking the time to read this book that I put so much into. I hope that, when reading this, between the scary moments, you realize that this is a story of hope, forgiveness, friendship, family, and love. Never give up, and never grow bitter, no matter what kind of curveballs life throws your way. Work hard, be kind, and everything else will fall into place.
India Hill Brown graduated with a bachelor of arts in mass communications from Claflin University, where she was awarded Most Promising Journalism Student of her class. She was born and raised in South Carolina and currently lives in North Carolina with her husband. She has written for many publications, including Teen Vogue, Essence, and Apartment Therapy. Previously, she’s worked for and with HBO, New York Magazine, and the University of South Carolina. As a child, she could be found filling up composition notebooks with short stories and stacks of loose-leaf paper with novels, or dragging her family members to bookstores. When she’s not writing, she’s probably still writing. Or reading. Or vlogging about writing and reading on her YouTube channel, BooksandBigHair. You can find her there or her website, IndiaHillBrown.com.
Copyright © 2019 by India Hill Brown
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
First edition, November 2019
Jacket design by Maeve Norton
Jacket photography © 2019 by Michael Frost
e-ISBN 978-1-338-31726-8
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