by Carter, Noni
Daniel said nothing, but he stood tall, listening to the sounds of the night.
CHAPTER
43
“MISS ANNA?”
“Yes, Ned?”
“Why you always readin’ those things?”
“What things? You mean, these books?” I asked the young boy, holding up the novel in my hands.
It was a Saturday morning, May 1823. Ned and I sat near Mama Bessie’s garden, a wooden toy in his hand, and the book in mine. Ned was taking a break from his chores.
“But you do that stuff all the time! Why?” he stressed in a whine, his way of expressing that my time would be better spent with him and the rest of the children.
“It’s important to me, Ned, that’s why.”
“But why? That like your job? You get money fo’ readin’ that thing an’ writin’ an’ laughin’ an’ talkin’ to yourself all the time?” he asked, innocently inquisitive.
I laughed. “No, no money, Ned.”
“So why you do it, then?” he demanded.
“Because there’s so many things in this world we don’t know. Things we never even heard of. Things that … that teach us folk to be better people.”
“Ain’t that what Mama Bessie for?” he asked, quite serious.
I laughed again. “Books tell you things don’t know one here in Hadson know! Folks teach us to be scared of reading and writing, Ned. But you know what?”
“What?”
“Being able to read and write is one of the most powerful things you can have as a black person.”
“Why?”
I set my book down and looked thoughtfully at him. “It’s the one thing can’t anybody ever take away from you once you have it. It’s the one thing folks don’t want us to have because it makes us smart—real smart. As smart as just about anybody!”
“You mean, we be just as smart as even the white folks?”
I nodded, feeling the power behind the idea. I watched silently while Ned’s eyebrows bent inward slightly as he allowed his thoughts to absorb my words. Finally, he looked up.
“Is that really so, Miss Anna?” His eyes pierced my own, trying to see if I was tricking him. As I watched him consider how beautiful education could be, a small light that had been growing within me flared.
“Sure is, Ned.”
“Well, I wanna learn my letters an’ numbers too!” he said almost immediately, with certainty.
“Can you teach me, Miss Anna?” The light was growing brighter. I looked closely at this young boy, a small seed waiting to blossom into whatever society made him out to be.
But what if his young mind were educated? What if all the young minds in Hadson were educated! What if … Thoughts about teaching spun through my mind as they had done a thousand times before.
“Well, Ned, I’m going to have to see about that,” I said slowly and a bit nervously. Had I learned enough yet myself to be able to teach others?
“Okay!” he shouted gleefully, hopping back up to resume the garden tasks.
I went into the house to fetch him a pail of water, turning the idea of teaching the children of Hadson around and around in my mind. Once I brought Ned the full bucket, I found Florence and joined in helping her fold the clean clothes.
“Anna, you know, I don’t think you can keep getting past that Henry for long. He’s taken a real liking to you. He’s the nicest-looking guy around here,” Florence said. She’d spoken to me before about Henry and me spending more time together. I frowned at her, my fears about Henry’s desire for more than a friendship now confirmed.
I tried to change the subject. “I don’t think Sebastian would like to hear you say that.”
She laughed and said, “Well, now, he jus’ gonna have to deal with that, now, ain’t he? But I know that man is splitting wood over you.”
“I wouldn’t say so,” I replied, keeping my eyes on my work.
“Well, I sure do believe it! All he talks about is ‘Anna, Miss Anna!’ And you’d think he’d have stopped that by now with these other women runnin’ around here tryin’ to take his heart. But no, he’s got his eyes set on you, an’ you give him none of your time.”
I shrugged. “It’s not like you and Sebastian, Flo. We’re friends.”
“Not in his mind, you ain’t,” she said. “But since you don’t believe me, you can ask him what he really thinks later today.”
“What do you mean, Flo?”
“There’s another gatherin’ tonight. Folks from Gibson an’ Riverside gonna be there. I’m sure your fellow will come by—I don’t believe he misses a gatherin’—an’ you … you gonna come with me.”
I didn’t reply as I placed a white shirt down on a blanket that was lying on the grass. I glanced up toward the road. A tall figure was approaching. I was surprised to see that it was Anita.
“I’ll be back,” I told Florence hurriedly as I walked toward Anita. I almost never saw her except at Mrs. Rosa’s and, occasionally, church.
Something must be wrong, I figured.
“You need something?” I asked when I reached her. As usual, she stared past me, her eyes skimming everything but my face.
“Anita, you need something?” I asked once more, determined to get back to my work. She dragged her eyes around to mine.
“The old man is sick. I was told to come here, that Ms. Bessie would know what to do.”
“How sick is he?” I asked.
“Quite sick, he … he may be about to die.”
I gasped, and ran into the house. When I came out again I was pulling Mama Bessie behind me. After explaining his ailments, Anita stood and waited as I rushed back into the house with Mama Bessie to help her prepare what was needed.
“She care, Anna, she jus’ care in different ways than you or I do,” Mama Bessie said in response to my question about Anita.
“Child ain’ barely eva bin out that ole man’s house since she came up this way. Her soul seems so weary. Musta had it hard, that one.”
I nodded, grabbing the small bag she was handing me.
“Now, you be careful with that. Ole Joshua jus’ might make it yet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I made my way back out the door, holding her concoction.
“Here, Anita. You be careful with that, hear? Mama Bessie said he just might make it.”
“Let’s hope so,” she said simply. I turned away, not even caring to grace her comment with a response.
“Anna.” I turned back to see Anita looking squarely at me. Her face had softened considerably. It looked almost friendly.
“I don’t mean …” I smiled, saving her the trouble of apologizing.
“It’s all right, Anita. I’ll see you when the week starts at Mrs. Rosa’s.”
She nodded at me, lingering for a few seconds more, then walked back down the road.
Just as Florence had predicted, the late-night gathering had young men and women streaming in from the Gibson and Riverside communities to partake in the dancing and fun. Gibson was some five miles south of Hadson, and Riverside lay just as far away to the east. The dancing and laughter could clear one’s mind after a week’s worth of housework or farm work.
But I would have gladly stayed behind had it not been for Florence’s insistence that I put my books aside for the night. I hadn’t been back to many gatherings, even when Daniel attempted to drag me to one. Tonight, however, I gave Florence the upper hand and put on my nicer clothes. Florence had sewn a dress for me a few weeks before, and I slipped it on, along with the only pair of shoes I had.
Outside, the breeze and music lifted everyone’s spirits. Girls and boys were swinging to the beat of the music. And just like before, memories of my first dance came back. I was flying higher and higher in John’s arms …
“Anna, stop gapin’ at them, wouldya?”
“Gaping at who, Florence? I’m not gaping.”
She laughed. “I know you’re not, but those men may think you are. And why is it you had to carry that
book out here?”
I shrugged. “I came here. That should be enough for you!”
Florence laughed again as we made our way over to a small gathering of children. They were watching a couple of young men act out a story. As we stood by, watching, a tall man with a thick beard walked up to Florence.
“Hello, lady.” Florence greeted her old friend from Gibson with smiles and chatter. After greeting me, he motioned her away so that they could talk awhile.
“You’ll be all right by yourself?” she asked me.
“Sure,” I said.
I watched her walk away. I watched as Daniel came running into the gathering, searching faces and stopping upon seeing Florence, who was fully engaged, cheerfully, in her conversation with the fellow from Gibson. I watched as he stood there a few seconds then sulked into the crowd of dancers and grabbed a partner, stealing petulant glances at my best friend. I watched as Florence spotted him, stormed over, and started a bout of arguing with him. I watched as their tension peaked and then toppled over into laughter, dancing, and full immersion into a world of love that had been slipping from my own space. As the two of them disappeared into the distance, I sat, turning my eyes to the young men acting out the play for the children. I listened to the children shriek with laughter and gasps, and allowed my thoughts to remain in that moment.
I laughed quietly to myself as one of the young men whose identity was lost beneath a gray hat fell to the ground as if he’d tripped. A minute or so later, the children were clapping loudly, and soon enough, were being led away from the late-night gathering by older women. I leaned my head against the tree and fell into a light sleep.
All around me I heard a thumping sound, like feet hitting the ground in a rhythmic pattern. Someone was running. Someone was calling my name. Someone was trying to tell me, Let him go, Anna. Let John go….
“Don’t think sleepin’ was part of the plan when we decided to have this gatherin’ tonight.”
I opened my eyes and let my surroundings wash away my short dream. Henry stood in front of me, removing the gray hat from his head and wiping sweat from his neck and shoulders. His usual smile broadened his face.
“You were good up there,” I told him.
“Thanks!” he said.
“But, I was just about to do some reading.”
“Anna, listen. Now, before you say anything else, you must know how lovely you look. I ain’t sayin’ that just ’cause I wanna, I’m sayin’ it ’cause it’s the truth, an’ I done turned down three women to come dance with you,” he said dramatically. “Now, all I’m asking for is this one dance.”
He waited with his hand out as I looked at him and pondered. I tried to see someone who caught my interest, someone who made my heart flutter; but I had none of those feelings for him. Nor for anyone else here.
“You stubborn, Anna. It’s just a dance!” he said again.
“I guess just one dance wouldn’t hurt.”
“Great!” Henry said, pulling me up by the arm and leading me to the dance floor.
The two of us took to the floor and moved about until we were out of breath. The jerky twists and turns weren’t nearly as exciting and enjoyable as my dance with John. But it lifted my spirits a bit and cleared my mind for a good while. I gratefully took the punch he poured me, and we sat under a tree to rest. Not a word was said while we drank our punch and caught our breath.
“That dance, that was real good, huh?” Henry eventually said. I made a small sound in my throat to indicate my agreement, but this wasn’t good enough for Henry. His comments turned into words I had not expected.
“What’s wrong with me, Anna? In your eyes, somethin’ in me must not be right. I mean, most ladies here wouldn’t know what to do if they were with me, but you’re different. You’re like a stone that stands alone; you’re here, but you’re somewhere else at the same time. I’ve been watching you and the way you go about things, and I … well, I kinda like you, Anna. But you don’t seem too fond of me. Is it somethin’ about me? Tell me.”
I didn’t dare look up, because I was too embarrassed and too angry that I was in this situation. Instead, as I stared at the glass of punch in my hand, I thought about what I could say to make my point without upsetting him.
“Henry, you’re a fine man. I don’t know why you’d ask me if there was something wrong. That’s sure not my place to think or say. But it’s just that …”
“Just what?”
I looked up at him. His boyish face and manly demeanor caught me off guard. Florence was right: He was nice looking.
I reluctantly continued. “I … I guess I like you well enough, Henry.”
His face lit up like a candle. For a moment, I knew I was staring into the face of someone other than Henry. I saw the fire of freedom in his eyes, I felt the meaning in his touch. I couldn’t believe it—it was, it really was …
“Anna?”
“Uh-huh,” I said quickly with an inaudible sigh. This wasn’t John. The touch of his hand was cold, and I wanted to escape it, escape from this man I didn’t know well enough. I looked out toward the dance floor, enveloped in my own thoughts as Henry went on about his life and his family.
“So, Anna?”
“Yes?” I said, turning back to Henry. I felt that it was time for me to go, and I searched my mind for a kind way I could leave. Instead, I sat politely still.
“Well, see, Anna, I was saying I’m glad I know now that you really do like me.” His excitement brimmed. “And so I’ve been meaning to tell you how I feel. See, well, I’ve been thinking, come late summertime, we can get married and raise a big family of our own.”
The words came smashing down like a stack of wood. This was all wrong—bitterly wrong. I jumped up so fast that I knew I startled him.
Did I just hear what I think I did?
“M-marriage? I’m just sixteen years old, Henry.”
“Well, most these women here get married around your age. So, I thought …”
I glared at him with my arms crossed. He looked confused.
“Anna, thought you said you like me well enough?”
“Henry, no! Why … why do you have to go and ask me something like that? We’re friends, Henry, we’re … we’re friends! That’s all!”
The shock that showed on his face touched my heart, but not deeply enough for my words to stop spilling forth.
“Why, Henry? Why me?”
He smiled uneasily. “Why not you, Anna? Can’t stay unmarried forever. Gotta have some kinda man to—”
“I can stay unmarried forever!” The words came tumbling out angrily, bringing reality to the feeling I had inside that I might not see John again. I brought my voice down to a whisper, avoiding Henry’s eyes.
“I can stay like that, Henry, an’ I will, as long as …” I stopped. I had to stop before I started crying in the presence of this man I called a friend. I felt upset and guilty at the same time. I longed for Henry to chuckle my words away, to say simply that he understood. That what I felt and what I had said were all right. I longed for him to touch my hand, to pat my back, and to let me cry out my grief on his shoulder. But none of that happened.
Henry’s eyes were entreating, his jaw set. The shadow of hurt had fallen upon his features. I tried to collect myself and form an apology, wanting to make everything right in that moment and waiting to hear a word or two of comfort from him. Perhaps he wished the same.
Then he did begin to say something.
“Anna, maybe you should think …”
I pried my eyes away from his before he could say anything more, crying on the inside for all the things I felt and all the things I missed and all the things I could not say to this man.
I turned and walked away, but still I listened for the questions and shouted words, hoping they wouldn’t follow, and hoping, too, that they would. They didn’t. Henry stood his ground and let me be, which made running away feel even worse. I told myself I didn’t care, that only John mattered. But John wasn
’t here, and perhaps he never would be. What was I leaving behind, walking away like this?
My walk turned into a run as I sought out a place of seclusion. I allowed my mind to wander, trying to alleviate the pain of John’s absence. He’d been away from me for a long time. I began thinking about anything that would help suppress it: Mrs. Rosa, my work, Mama Bessie. Eventually, thoughts of John started finding their way back to where my fears helped bury them.
The wind began to blow hard, biting my face and loosening the grip of my emotions. I collapsed by the tree in Mama Bessie’s yard and closed my eyes, dreaming of the man who held my heart.
CHAPTER
44
ONE DAY THAT AUGUST, I STAYED BEHIND AFTER A TUTORING session to talk to Mrs. Rosa about the idea that had been sitting in my heart for a long while.
“Mrs. Rosa, I’ve been thinking about something. I haven’t said anything to you because, well, I couldn’t really decide inside myself if this was something I really wanted, and—”
“Tell me what it is, Anna,” Mrs. Rosa said, trying to calm my excitement.
“Well, I’ve decided that I want to make this happen, Mrs. Rosa. I want to start a school. Now, before you object, I just want to tell you that it won’t be an actual school building, or anything fancy like that. I can’t afford that, anyhow. I just want to teach the children at Mama Bessie’s and any other children in Hadson who want, and have the time, to learn.”
The thought had been taking shape in my mind, and the more it came into its final form, the more inspired I felt. This was what I had to do with my education. I knew it.
Mrs. Rosa’s face melted into a large smile.
“Object? I think that’s the most exciting and wonderful thing I’ve heard in a while. It’s one thing to learn, but to learn and then spread what you know is even better. Anna, how could I say no? It’s taken you only a year to learn what it takes most people three or four. Of course, you still have so much to learn, but many of the residents of Hadson can’t read or write at all, so you would be starting with basics anyway. What an idea! You just tell me what I can do to help.”