by Joyce Hansen
He liked the store’s scent of teas and spices. “Evening, Mr. Booker,” Miss Mary said. “I think something came for you this evening. The ferry was late today, and I already sent Scipio home.”
Obi rifled through the large basket on the counter that contained the mail while Miss Mary chattered on. He had a letter from Easter, and another letter bearing the seal of the Freedmen’s Bureau in Beaufort.
“Thank you, Miss Mary,” he said, and bought a two-cent bag of gumdrops for the children.
He rushed out of the store, but before he went into the meeting, he leaned against one of the oak trees and tried to read the letters in the gathering dusk and the thick purple clouds rolling in from the sea. He read the letter from the major’s assistant first. The assistant advised Obi that there would be no military transport going to Edisto Island until the end of December. However, if he were able to take the children there himself to the government work farm, the bureau would remit to him any expenses he incurred.
Obi decided to wait for the transport in December. He had no time to take them, and there was always the possibility that a home could be found for them on Santa Elena Island. He excitedly tore open the letter from Easter.
September 3, 1868
Dear Obi,
I hope all is well with you, Rose and the children you are caring for and all of my friends in New Canaan. I am quite fine. Obi, I fear that you are angry and do not understand why I want to extend my stay here. I am not only learning about teaching, but I am also learning, as my instructor tells me, how to help the needy and how to run an institution.
When I look on the faces of these frightened orphan children, I see us, Obi. And when I see how a few softly spoken, comforting words can brighten their faces, then I feel that this is the work I must be doing. I am learning so much and will be able to be a good teacher when I return. My instructor says that I could be a headmistress in a school for girls. Obi, I have not abandoned you or Jason and I do want us to be husband and wife and have a real family. But I also want to be able to teach and to learn as much as I can.
Obi, if I teach for the society, even there in Santa Elena, I cannot be a married woman or have children of my own. But the same rules do not apply if I run my own school, and this is why I need the special training. Certainly Santa Elena Island needs many schools. One of these days the missionaries will leave. There is growing antagonism here in the North against the freedmen. People say that now that the war is over and slavery has ended, it is time to think about other things. They are saying that there is no need for the soldiers to be there and for the Freedmen’s Bureau to be there. They are sick and tired of the war and of the problems of the freed people. One day the missionaries will leave and the schools will close unless we, the freed people, are able at last to stand up for ourselves and teach our own.
Obi, I love you. Freedom would be bitter without you. You, Jason, Rose are the only kin I have. New Canaan is the only real home I have. I am not doing this because I don’t want us to have a life together, I am doing this so that we can have a good life together.
If you come to Philadelphia and we marry here, then I cannot continue with my work. I do not want us to live up here. Instead of spending money to come here to be with me, even though I want you to very much, I think you shouldn’t use up money in that way. I want to come back to our home, and I want to marry in New Canaan with all my “chosen” family near me. My heart is in New Canaan.
With love, Easter
P.S. I received a letter from Jason last week. He is in Ohio in a big tent show! He tells me that he sings, dances and plays the banjo. He is no longer with Doctor Taylor.
He kissed her letter and then put it in his pocket, next to his bill-folder. He’d read it again later, so that he could fix the sound of her voice and her reassuring words in his head. Obi suddenly realized that the voice he heard now was no longer that of the young girl he’d left behind. She had grown into a woman. A good woman. He missed her nonetheless. Though the eight months until she returned stretched before him like an eternity, his spirit was lifted as he walked toward the church.
As soon as he entered the building, Obi knew that there was an important visitor because the meeting was more crowded than usual. He spotted several men from New Canaan sitting in the front, proudly looking up at Julius, as they did at every meeting. Obi sat in the back, as usual, next to Samuel.
Julius said only a few words about the new constitution and the elections in November, when he, along with a number of other black men, would be running for office. Julius was running for a seat on the new South Carolina legislature. He also told them about the mounting violence against the freedmen.
“We safe down here in these island because there is more of us than them Ku Kluxers, but we have to be vigilant. These are dangerous times, especially when you in politics.”
Samuel poked Obi in his ribs. “Can you imagine that? He been in slavery, and now he going to be a lawmaker?”
Obi agreed. Julius had prospered. He also knew many Yankees who were buying land and the old plantation houses on the island. He’d talk to him after the meeting and find out whether he knew anyone who needed a carpenter.
Julius proudly introduced his visitor, a distinguished-looking black man with a full beard. Julius bowed to him and the audience. “Brothers, this is Senator Benjamin Randolph, from Orangeburg. As some of you know, Senator Randolph was a chaplain in the Twenty-sixth Colored Infantry. He is a teacher, a newspaper owner, a county school commissioner, and the chairman of the Republican State Committee. Yes, sir. We are proud to have you with us, Senator.” Julius didn’t talk long when visitors came. He was embarrassed about his own humble beginnings when in the company of better-educated black men who were freeborn.
Randolph talked about the upcoming elections and the importance of voting the Republican ticket. “The Democrats are trying to lure the freedmen away from the Republican party. Do not be tricked by their lies.”
Samuel poked Obi in the ribs again. “He right about that. A black man ain’t got no business joining them Democrats. Every rebel is a Democrat.”
When the meeting ended, people gathered around Julius and the senator. Samuel turned to Obi. “Come on, let’s shake this important man’s hands.”
Obi followed him. “I just want to ask Julius something. That man probably tired and don’t want all of them people crowding around him, shaking his hands.”
“Well, he’s gonna shake my hand if he want my vote.”
Obi stood outside the group of people and waited patiently until he caught Julius’s eye. “Julius, can I speak with you a moment?”
Obi saw Julius’s annoyed glance, which he quickly tried to hide.
“Yes, yes,” Julius said impatiently. “But you’ll have to wait.” He turned and smiled as he shook hands with a very tall, slender white man.
Obi had to walk away or he would have snatched Julius up in his collar and reminded him of where he came from. He wondered what he’d done to offend Julius. Had they ever had an argument when they were boys? He couldn’t remember any incidents. Obi left the church and waited for Samuel, who came outside shortly after.
“Obi, I heard how Julius answer you. I guess he a big man now. I’m surprised at him, though. We his people, and he always make time for us.”
“It’s not important,” Obi said.
As they walked away from the church, darkness covered them like a great black cloak. The still air was heavy with moisture and silence. “Might get some rain tonight,” Samuel mused. A little smile played around his mouth. “By the way, I notice you been framing out a house on Easter’s property.”
“Yes.”
“So you and her is getting married? That’s what I been hearing.”
“Where you been hearing this from?” Obi knew the answer before Samuel told him. Rose.
“Rose tell my wife, and she tell a next person. That’s the way of these villagers, Obi. And if they don’t know your story, they make one
up for you.”
“Yes, me and Easter getting married.” He’d have to tell Rose not to talk his business. Suddenly Obi understood Julius’s attitude. Everyone in the village knew that he and Easter were going to marry. Maybe Julius was sweet on Easter. Obi smiled to himself. Imagine that. He’d ask Rose about it. She would know. Samuel broke into his thoughts.
“Obi, you a fine carpenter. The wood so perfect. You buy it?”
“I buy the logs, then I finish them off myself.”
“If you need help anytime, ask me. It cost a lot of money to buy them logs.”
“I’m just taking my time.” Obi didn’t want to insult Samuel, but he had no faith in the carpentry skills of the men in the village. He wanted more than the kind of rough cabins they built. He’d used more of his savings than he had intended, but he wanted a lovely home—like the one he admired in Elenaville.
“Well, anytime you need help, I’m here. That’s how we do, you know. The people help each other put up their homes.”
“I’m just taking my time with it,” Obi repeated.
When the shelled road ended, they heard rumbling in the distance.
“Well, good night to you, Obi,” Samuel said. “Sounds like God’s going to water them fields for us.”
Obi turned into the path leading to Rose’s cabin. When he saw the soft glow of candlelight under her doorsill, he knew that she was still awake. Claps of thunder were more frequent, and he felt a few drops of rain just before entering the cabin. The boys were asleep on their pallets. Simon’s loud snoring filled the cabin, almost drowning out the thunder. Little Ray wouldn’t sleep in the room with his mother and the girls anymore, but insisted on staying with Simon and Scipio.
Rose slept soundly too, sitting on her rocking chair. Her head dangled to the side, and the patchwork quilt she was making had fallen at her feet. Obi gently shook her by the shoulders. “Rosie, you going to get a crick in your neck.”
“Obi, I was waiting for you. How was the meeting?” She picked up the quilt and continued stitching. He gave her the news and then told her about the letter from the bureau.
“You know, I grow use to those children. And the girl been a help to me, but she need some kind of schooling.”
“A school for the blind,” Obi said.
“She not really blind. How can she be? She been helping make this quilt. The girl just don’t like to go outside.”
“If she go to the work farm talking about only seeing inside the house and going blind when she outside, they put her in the insane asylum,” Obi mused. “I’ll wait till December before I send them to the farm. Scipio have a chance for a little schooling here.”
“That’s all he talk about. Going to school,” Rose said. “Miss Mary say she’d take in Scipio and raise him, but I told her he shouldn’t be separated from his sisters. I been asking around though. It’s just hard to get someone to take in all three.”
He gazed at Scipio, sleeping contentedly, far removed from the frightened, ragged child he’d found a few months ago. “I hope we can find someone here to take them in soon. But it have to be the right someone,” Obi said.
A loud clap of thunder startled them both. Suddenly, it sounded as though the sky had opened and that the cabin had plunged into the middle of a waterfall.
“We need this rain,” Rose said as she stood up and lay the quilt across the rocker. “Thought we was fixing to have a dry drought.” She walked over to the fireplace. “Kept the okra soup warm for you.”
His mouth watered as she dished out the soup for him. “Rose”—he smiled slightly—“Julius sweet on Easter?”
She nearly dropped the bowl. “Where you hear that story?”
“Just a thought I had.”
She handed him the bowl and sat down. Her large, expressive eyes slid around her face as she avoided his stare. “Come on, Rosie. You ain’t going to lie to me, are you?”
“Yes. I suppose he was. But she ain’t sweet on him. I know that. She only think of one man in this world. You. Who tell you?”
“Nobody. I know by the way Julius act toward me. Unfriendly. Like I did him something. Just wanted to ask whether he knew anyone who needed a carpenter.”
Her eyes sparkled in a teasing way. “Obi, you ain’t the friendliest person. Some of the people ’round here think you don’t like them. And you don’t go to church like everybody else.”
“Don’t tell me about church no more, Rose. God be everywhere.”
She sucked her teeth. “You like to be alone too much, Obi. Anyway, Easter love you. You don’t have no worry with that.”
Suddenly, thunder exploded around them. Little Ray woke up, crying, and Rose picked him up. Scipio sat up with a start, his eyes wide and terrified. And then they heard a roar so loud and deep it sounded and felt as though a train had run under the house. Grace screamed and ran out of the bedroom, holding Araba. Even Simon woke up with a big question mark on his face.
Obi opened the shutter slightly and peeped out of the window. The trees swayed like a circle of dancers. “This a bad one,” he said, quickly closing the shutter. He walked toward the door. “I’m taking my tools and my haversack out of the shed, before it fall down.”
“I don’t think you should go out there now.” She patted little Ray on his back as he buried his face in her neck.
“Easter’s letters and my army papers are in the sack.”
“Obi, that shed stand up to many a storm.”
He slowly opened the door. “I ain’t taking no chances.”
“You taking a big chance going out there. You have Easter’s address in your memory, don’t you? And you can buy more tools. Can’t replace yourself.”
Obi turned to Scipio and then Grace. “You all go on back to sleep. Nothing to be scared of.” Then he said to Rose, “It’s just a few steps to the shed.” He paused a moment with his hand on the door latch. “Hope this wind skip over my house I ain’t even finish yet.”
“You better hope it skip over you,” Rose warned.
As soon as he stepped outside, the raging wind knocked him against the cabin. He went back inside and handed Rose his billfolder. “Don’t want to lose this. The wind is raising Cain out there.”
He went outside again, thrusting his head and his shoulders forward like a bull charging the wind. He thought that he heard Rose calling him as he fought his way to the shed. The wind lashed him like a cruel master. Falling to the ground, he attempted to crawl to the shed and was thrown into a tree trunk. He saw nothing. Obi continued to crawl in what he thought was the direction of the shed. He attempted to stand up in the midst of a deafening roar and a thunderous crash. A heavy object hit the side of his head, knocking him back down. The pain was so sharp, he felt as if his insides were rising from his stomach, filling his mouth.
He crawled through the mud, still determined to reach the shed. Lightning crackled and flashed as bright as daylight. He saw the chicken coop, the animal pen, and the shed. In an instant, a massive dark form crashed to the ground, obliterating everything under it. The shed, the animal pen, and the chicken coop were gone.
Through sheer will, he pulled his prone body up and stumbled and staggered away from the shed, back toward Rose’s cabin. Another round of steady lightning illuminated his way, but he didn’t see the cabin. It was gone. The wind knocked him into a bush that tore at his flesh. He thought that he heard the children crying. He thought that he saw the cabin again. A dream and then I die.
Chapter 11
I’ve been in the storm so long
You know I’ve been in the storm so long,
Oh Lord, give me more time to pray,
I’ve been in the storm so long.
—AFRICAN AMERICAN SPIRITUAL
Obi felt as though someone were banging loudly on his head with a mallet and every bone in his body had been snapped in two. Something dripped on his hands and arms. Hell must be wet. He thought he heard a voice calling him and slowly opened his eyes. Grace peered down at him. A beautiful i
mage. He wasn’t dead. He looked up at the ceiling. Part of it was badly damaged, and he could see a patch of blue sky. The water was coming from the roof.
“Mr. Obi? You awake?”
He groaned.
Rose, her face tight and pinched, bent over him also. “Told you not to go out there, Obi. Almost get yourself killed.”
He slowly pushed himself up and wondered how he’d ended up on a pallet in front of the fireplace and why the banging in his head wouldn’t stop. He turned toward the window and saw Simon banging a peg into one of the shutters with a stick. “Rosie,” he croaked, “tell him to stop. I’ll fix the shutter.”
“You ain’t in no condition to fix anything.” She straightened up and ordered Grace to make Obi a cup of tea and Simon to sweep the water out of the cabin.
“You all okay? I thought the cabin was gone,” Obi said.
“We thought you was gone. The children was crying and I was peeping out of the window the whole time you were out there. The lightning help me see when you stumble and fall. Me and Simon drag you back in here.”
“Where the children?” he asked, rubbing his aching head.
“In the other room. Sleep. They was scared and crying most of the night. But they settle down when morning come and the storm pass. You was soundly knocked out, Obi. Slept through the rest of the storm.”
Obi struggled to his feet. Rose whispered so softly that he could barely hear her. “Even Grace cry. I never see her cry before,” she said.
“She’s scared.” He rubbed his sore legs.
“She scared that you die out there. You all she have.”
Obi hobbled to the table, wondering why Rose was talking foolishness at a time like this. He called to Simon as Grace handed him a cup of tea. “When I finish this tea, we go get them tools out of the shed and fix—” He stopped himself and gulped down his tea. “Rose, you looked outside yet?”