by Carter, Noni
“Daniel, if it’s running through my blood like you say, I don’t think I will ever be able to wash it away. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make a decent life for myself. I have folks who love me and care for me. I have my school, and that’s what really holds my heart—that place where my happiness lies. Seeing the joy on the children’s faces is what keeps me alive. That’s all I need right now. Of course it’s been hard knowing that I’ll never … I’ll never see John again. But I think God has given me this path to walk on in order to change things for the better, and I am grateful for that.”
Daniel looked at me, and I could see he was convinced. I even felt, for the moment, that I had convinced myself.
“You know, Anna, I wonder sometimes why freedom can’t just be real freedom. Why can’t we live like white folks, if we just as free as them? I don’t understand. They snatch my pride there in the city, and it hurts … it hurts bad, Anna. But you know what? It hurts even more to know that I cain’t do nothin’ about it. I cain’t even be a man, sometimes, fo’ the people I love. It’s like we walked from one kinda bondage, Anna, to another, an’ I don’t like it at all. But there’s little I can do.”
I smiled softly, thinking of the different way Mrs. Rosa, taught me to look at freedom.
“Daniel, what is freedom, really? It seems like freedom means having the ability to call yourself master, and to live just as any other person does. But don’t you remember? Can’t you hear Mary, sometimes, explaining what true freedom is, how true freedom comes about? Our real freedom is in the heart and the mind.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. I understood that whether Mary’s words were there for our inspiration or not, the restlessness and anger that Daniel felt mirrored what I felt sometimes and what most of us in this black community thought. But we both knew that no matter what was done, the love that existed between us as family and as friends could not be taken away.
After a little while, as we sat back in detached thought, I embraced him, an embrace that seemed to take us back through everything we had shared in our lives, things that made us inseparable.
When at last I stood to walk away, I saw Florence head down to where Daniel sat and seat herself next to him. At that moment, my happiness for the two of them prevailed over the other feelings in my heart.
But later on that night, as I got ready to lie in my pallet, silent streams of tears ran down my face. But I kept hearing the words I had held so close.
I’ll see you again, Sarah, I promise.
When, John? When? You’re supposed to be dead, but I haven’t even felt your spirit! I feel empty. I miss you, and I need you to come to me like Mama does sometimes and even Mary did once! But you, the one I need the most, seem so far away. Do you see the same sun rise that I do? Am I going to be with you on the other side? I cast these thoughts out to the night as I fell onto my pillow and drifted off to sleep.
The luscious scent of the forest fruits filled my nose as my toes tried to keep themselves from being buried within the soil. They had been carefully groomed, as had the rest of my body, for this sacred occasion. As I glanced up, my eyes caught the reflection of a domelike shape that radiated out with a reddish orange glow. The ocean had captured the sun as it sat idly on the horizon.
Am I on the other side?
I felt a tingling sensation as I reached out and touched the sun. I felt bright and happy.
Your ceremony.
The whispered words rang loudly through my ears. I opened my eyes and brushed my hand across my skin. I wasn’t myself. I was …
“Mijiza!” The name of my mother was written across the covers of books scorched by fire.
I felt my feet moving forward, one step, then another, then another.
“You’re late!” A girl my height came running at me with a head cloth she wrapped around me.
“Late for what? The sun’s not done setting. I’m on its time.”
“But you’re late!”
Images spun before me then halted.
The touch of a hand on my own was cold. The sun had disappeared.
“Come on. He’s here, living in this place!” the girl screamed.
“Who, Mr. Caldwell? I know, I know!” I screamed back, but she was already skipping away.
Talking drums rang loudly in my ears. They spoke out in unison, repeating our family name in a rhythmic tone.
Ba-ha-tee … Ba-ha-tee … Ba-ha-teeeeee …
My heart fluttered. Or was it Mama’s heart? She was the bride. I was the bride.
We watched our feet move once more, slowly now, through rich black soil. A figure in white standing before us whispered our name.
Mijiza.
That was the name his lips formed. But that’s not what I heard. Instead, I heard him scream, Ayanna.
My head jerked around as my feet stopped. They were no longer Mama’s smooth, carefully groomed feet. I touched my back and felt the welts that slavery had inflicted upon me. I was no longer Mijiza. But I was not Ayanna, either.
No, my name is Anna.
Sarah, you mean.
No, Anna! I raised my head to stare into those eyes. My lips shut.
He had come to my dreams.
CHAPTER
51
I WAS ALMOST EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD. HOW MUCH DIFFERENT would I have been if those eighteen years had been spent in the land where I was supposed to be, the land I was never supposed to have left. Sentwaki, my brother, would not be lost from me. My mother would be alive. And I would never have had to wish that John were still alive. Eighteen years I would have lived in happiness, had they left me where I belonged in my homeland. But that was not my fate.
However, today’s occasion was not another birthday celebration for me. It was not quite that time. On this day in late September, 1824, we were celebrating the union of my brother and my best friend.
The ceremony took place at the church, like most other weddings. Florence and Daniel beamed throughout. Uniting them was a man of later years, our preacher. He had performed this ceremony so many times over the years that he knew the vows of marriage by heart. I stood, my fingers grasping my arms, while this man of God walked them through the ceremony.
“Can you believe this?” Daniel asked me afterward as we celebrated behind the church. He had released Florence’s hand just long enough to come speak to me.
“Yes, I think I can,” I said to him as he grinned at me.
Florence was just as excited and dashed happily between me and her other guests. When I found the chance, however, I separated myself from everyone.
Easing into my own space where my thoughts could flow freely, I enjoyed the solitude by the lake, where the fresh wind washed my face. I would only stay for a few minutes. I had wanted peace on this happy day, but hazy memories haunted me and I felt unsettled.
Why does today have to be one of those hard days? Why is it so difficult for me to accept that John is gone?
I felt my eyes brimming over, and a second later, I was kneeling by the lake, hugging my knees. No one was around: I didn’t want anyone to see me so upset on my brother’s wedding day. But I heard footsteps behind me, then a sigh much like my brother’s. I wiped my eyes without looking back at him.
“Daniel, brother, please don’t mind me. I want you to be happy today, not worried about me. I thought I was alone out here.”
Silence.
“Really, brother, I’m sure of what I’m saying. You can let me be.”
Still not hearing an answer, I looked out over the lake. I really didn’t want to complain, but Daniel was here and he wouldn’t leave …
“Daniel, he promised, he promised! It wasn’t right to promise like that, but he did. The pain is easing inside, but he’ll never be washed from my blood, never!” I exclaimed, and then lowered my voice and head in sadness and frustration.
It sounded as if Daniel was trying to clear his throat but stopped short. I continued on, welcoming the chance to release what I felt inside.
“I mis
s him, but I don’t long like I used to. It’s like my heart knows that no other heart could fit better, and it seems content with that. But sometimes it seems as if we danced just yesterday. In my sleep, I still spin higher and higher in his arms. And his hands …” I laughed, remembering.
“But they say he’s dead. Dead! I haven’t felt it yet, though, and I know I should have. It’s been nearly three years since I saw him last. Maybe he had found someone else and shared her dreams instead before he passed on. But no matter, now that he’s gone, the piece of my heart made to love anyone like that is gone with him.”
But some promises are meant to be kept.
This statement rang through my mind, almost as though someone had spoken them to me. I heard the words, and felt a strong reaction inside to hate them. But suddenly, I felt strong arms, not at all like Daniel’s, encircling my body. My will must have been weak, for as my body tensed and my mind refused to recognize that touch, my heart melted into the moment. I felt warm breath on my neck.
I felt the lips, the nose, the pulse of a ghost! I froze, but my heart quickened.
“I bin standin’ here, jus’ a listenin’ to you. That feelin’ you felt deep inside, that was me, Sarah. I done promised I’d come, an’ here I am, flesh, bones, heart, an’ all—my soul, too, all here fo’ you.” The words that came tumbling out from those lips engulfed my spirit.
I couldn’t move! I couldn’t breath! I couldn’t see! Everything in me said it was real, but how could it be?
Am I asleep or dreaming? I prayed not, but I had to be. They said he was dead!
I shuddered, knowing that the arms encircling me had to be those of a ghost. I was dreaming, surely, but how could those words come so clear, so near, so real? Why would my mind be so cruel to me?
My lips parted before I had time to think further.
“John?” Implausibly, I addressed him. Then I turned, slowly, afraid of what I might see, or not see. What I did see was his face. That face, with the strong, dark, elegant features I had remembered so clearly. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on my soul.
But that can’t be.
I didn’t understand. I could touch him: his skin, his arms, his chest, his face. I could feel his warm hands cupping my shoulders. I could smell the scent of his skin, of his sweat. I could hear his voice, deep, clear, and comforting. And his eyes! I could stare into those eyes of his, eyes that bore into my own, right through to my heart.
How could spirit be so real?
“John … you … you’re dead!” I told him.
The ghost smiled.
“That’s what the paper done said. What’s your heart say?”
I shrugged, trying to grasp the memory whole in my mind before the ghost disappeared.
“The paper, ya … my heart, maybe … Maybe you’re an angel! But I thought angels had big old wings!” I said, still searching for answers that would explain what was happening. At that, the spirit threw back his head and let out a deep laugh. The sound began and ended like the rising and falling of the tide and rumbled heavily in his chest.
“An’ angel? Look at me!” he said, turning around so I could see his full form. “I haven’t died yet, pretty gal! How could I? Hadn’t found you befo’ now!” He stepped closer to me and gently nudged my gaping mouth closed with his fingers.
I shook my head. “But I saw your name….”
“We had to say I was dead so they’d stop lookin’ for me. I hid wit a Quaker man who helped me almost the whole way. They said Finch killed me, but Finch himself is ’gainst slavery, and he the one put it out in the papers and everythin’. But …”
He looked at me with sad eyes. I stared back, still not believing, trying to make sense of the words in his story.
“I prayed it didn’t reach you wherever you was. How could I die befo’ findin’ you, Sarah? You my life, my freedom. Even if you had a family an’ everything, I’d jus’ be happy to say I found you, an’ more than glad to see you agin. But God had it so I could find you right here, like this!”
Despite the education I had received, I couldn’t think of anything to say. So, instead, I buried my face in his chest and collapsed into him, escaping from everything else but this moment with him. As the moment matured, I began to see that this man I was embracing was no more a ghost than I was. This all was real, and my heart understood this before my mind and body did. We stood embracing for what seemed an eternity, and an eternity was just where I wanted to be. Tears were streaming down my face, but my grip didn’t loosen at all.
“John … how … I can’t …”
“Shh. Don’t gotta think ’bout nothin’. Jus’ gotta soar, right here, wit me.” John’s voice resonated through my mind and awakened within me a feeling that my soul hadn’t allowed me to forget.
As we returned to the church setting, John’s arm clasped around my shoulder, Daniel approached us. His figure was almost hazy to me.
“Daniel,” I said, “it’s John …”
Daniel laughed, hearing the disbelief still weighing down my words. There was a sad edge to his laughter that I barely noticed in my daze.
“Just doesn’t seem real,” I said, tightening my grip on John’s arm for fear of him disappearing.
“Yeah, he came by this way,” Daniel explained as Florence walked up to his side.
“Heard us out here an’ stopped to get somethin’ to eat. Said he had been travelin’ for a while. But then I caught sight of him, or I reckon he saw me first. You shoulda seen him! His face lit up like a candle when he saw me. ’Course, the first words he muttered to me was somethin’ like ‘Sarah … where’s Sarah.’” Daniel smiled, but I saw some sadness in him behind his joy. After talking with John for a little while longer, sharing conversation I only caught bits and pieces of, he disappeared back into his celebration. Florence lingered longer, a large grin stretching across her face.
“So this is the John you told me was still livin’, but we convinced you he wasn’t.”
“This is him.”
“Well, John,” she said, smiling over at him, “I’m Anna’s good friend, Flo.”
Hearing my new name, he looked down at me, and then back toward Florence.
“Well, it’s good to meet you, Flo.”
She smiled once more, then turned and followed Daniel back into the crowd.
“Anna? That’s what they call you round here?”
“That’s what they call me.”
“Think I like it.”
I smiled.
“You know, Anna”—he looked out at the dancers who had gathered—“got somethin’ to ask you.”
I laughed up at him, and held out my hand, knowing he wanted to dance with me. He took it without pause, and we walked toward the dancers together. Every person around us had disappeared. It was only him and me.
“Can we jus’ sail away, you think?” And I flew away on his whisper, in his strong arms.
When we stopped dancing, breathless, we heard shouts of praise from the people around us. But we walked slowly away from the celebration, shoulder to shoulder, just the two of us.
“I was worried, but I think I know now that you’re still just plain old John,” I said, looking up at him.
He laughed. “Wouldn’t be no one else.” After a few minutes, he stopped and asked me another question.
“Sarah—Anna—can I look at you good? Ain’t bin able to do that so well yet.”
I stopped in front of him, and he backed away and crossed his arms, attempting to examine me while I giggled. But his eyes locked with mine, and he seemed to have lost the key. I laughed and leaned back onto him, and we fell back into step.
“Don’t have to look at me so hard, John. I’m here!”
“Ya, you here, Sarah. Anna. You here.”
As we walked farther and farther away from the wedding, we drifted in and out of conversation. We shared memories, ones that just appeared out of the hidden places in our hearts, and we tried to speak of John’s escape and my school and the kin
d of life John wanted in Ohio. But disbelief stalled those conversations. They would need to wait for another time.
“Looka here, Miss Anna, if that’s what I’m s’pose to call you. I don’t wanna hear nothin’ else ’bout nothin’! Jus’ sing or laugh or don’t do nothin’ but lean ’gainst me like you doin’ now. That’s good ’nough fo’ me. Got the whole world an’ my whole life to talk ’bout all that important stuff. Right now, jus’ wanna be wit you. That’s all that mattas.”
So we walked on down the path toward the school building. I found myself lost in John’s frequent smiles down at me, every glance proof that he really walked by my side. When silence descended upon us for long moments at a time, it spoke louder than our words. I observed that John had new lash marks around his neck that disappeared down his shirt and that his hands were calloused like before.
“Anna, these three years done made you different. You a grown woman, taller than befo’, tho’ still pretty an’ all. You sound different, too, like bein’ free done made you handle life as if you know you really own yourself.”
I smiled softly. “I do, John. I do.”
He nodded and continued, “Speak like you done bin educated yo’ whole life, too. Got a lot to teach me.”
I laughed at that, sipping in his talk like I was quenching my thirst.
“But even wit all that, you still ain’t changed. Your soul is still the same, an’ that makes me happy.”
I looked in his eyes and sighed, shaking my head.
“What?” he asked, innocently. “That’s good, ain’t it?”
I laughed. “Sure it is. It’s just … John, I thought you were dead! I thought I’d have to wait until I died to see you again.”
John stopped and turned to me, seriousness covering his smile.
“Sarah, I didn’t know three years could be so long—three years away from you. I’m … I’m sorry, Sarah. Three years waitin’ sho’ ain’t the same as two years runnin’. Didn’t know where you were. Gotta say, there was times I didn’t think I could keep lookin’ my whole life. I figured jus’ wat you say, that when I die, an’ when you die, then I see you agin. So, well, I thought ’bout bein’ wit someone else. But there ain’t no harm in that, right?” he asked, looking at me uncertainly.