I thought a minute, then I started singing. My song was slower and more sad-sounding than Katie’s had been, especially without the piano. My voice was lower than Katie’s too.
“Sing with me, Emma,” I said, “if you know it.”
“We planted this cotton in April,” I began, “on the full of the moon.
We’ve had a hot, dry summer. That’s why it opened so soon.
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad,
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, gonna pick all over this field.”
By now Emma was joining in and I was amazed. Her voice was beautiful. Before we were done, she was already wandering all around with harmonies I never even knew the song had.
“Boy, stop goosin’ that cotton, and take better care.
Make haste, you lazy rascal, and bring that row from there.
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad,
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, gonna pick all over this field.
“Hurry up, hurry up, children, we ought to have been gone.
The weather looks so cloudy, and I think it’s goin’ to storm.
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad,
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, gonna pick all over this field.”
“That was so beautiful!” said Katie. “How did you learn to sing like that, Emma?”
“I din’t learn it no place, Miz Katie. It jes’ comes outta me, dat’s all.”
“Well, it’s just about the prettiest music I ever heard.
The two of you sounded like a choir, didn’t they, Aleta? It makes me feel almost like I was out in the fields picking cotton myself.”
“Be glad you’re not,” I said. “It ain’t fun at all.”
“Can we sing another one?” Aleta asked.
Katie turned the pages of her songbook. Here’s a good one—do you know it?”
“She’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes.
She’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes.
She’ll be coming round the mountain, she’ll be coming
round the mountain, she’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes.”
“Let’s do it again,” said Katie. “This time you both sing with me.”
She started playing and we repeated it twice more.
“Now it’s our turn again, Mayme,” said Katie.
I stopped to think a minute.
“All right, here’s one,” I said.
“Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to veil my face.
Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to fly away.
Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to veil my face.
So the devil can’t do me no harm.”
“That part’s the chorus,” I said.
“I know it … I know it, Miz Mayme!” exclaimed Emma.
“Good, then you help me teach Miss Katie and Aleta.—Now here comes the verse, so everyone’s gotta help.”
“My Lord, did he come at the break of day?”
I sang and Emma joined in with me.
“Now you shout, ‘No!’—I’ll sing my part again—”
“My Lord, did he come at the break of day?”
Katie and Aleta shouted, “No!”
“My Lord, did he come in the heat of noon?—No!
My Lord, did he come in the cool of the evening?”
“Now the answer’s yes!” I said.
We all shouted “Yes!”
And as we came to the last line, I quieted way down so that Emma could sing it herself.
“And he washed my sins away!”
“Let’s do it again!” said Aleta, laughing. “Please … can we do it again!”
“Wait … sing a little again, Mayme, Emma,” said Katie. “Let me see if I can find the tune on the piano.”
After a few minutes of experimenting, Katie was playing the whole song, but in what she called a different key, which made it so that I had to sing it a little higher than before. I had a pretty low voice compared to either Emma’s or Katie’s, so when I sang the words “two wings,” it was about as high as my voice would reach. But with Emma’s voice along with me, it was just right. Then we all sang it together.
“Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to veil my face.
Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to fly away.
Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to veil my face.
So the devil can’t do me no harm.
My Lord, did He come at the break of day?—No!
My Lord, did He come in the heat of noon?—No!
My Lord, did He come in the cool of the evening?—Yes!
And He washed my sins away!”
With Katie playing along on the piano and with two white voices and my low black girl’s voice and Emma again singing harmony, it was just as pretty-sounding as you could imagine!
“Can we do the minuet again?” I asked Katie when we finished. “I really liked that last time.”
“Yes, and we’ll teach it to you, Aleta.”
“What’s a minuet?” she asked.
“A French dance,” said Katie.
She played it through once, then got up from the piano.
“Now watch, Aleta, Emma,” she said. “We will show you how it goes.—Do you remember it, Mayme?”
“Not all of it.”
“Emma, why don’t you set William down on the couch where he’ll be safe? Then you join us.”
“Yes’m, Miz Katie.”
We all took hands and Katie led like before. Pretty soon I was remembering how it went, and we danced all around the room like we were a French prince and princess or something, though I don’t know which one of us was which!
“Come, Aleta,” said Katie, taking Aleta’s two hands in hers. “I’ll show you.—Emma, you and Mayme sing the tune while we dance.”
We did, while Katie went through it once with Aleta, then went back to the piano.
While she played, now Emma and I took each other’s hands. I couldn’t remember it perfectly, but we tried it with Katie playing and calling out to us what to do, and gradually we got better.
Pretty soon we were all four laughing and dancing and taking turns dancing with Katie at the piano, or Katie dancing while we sang, and having more fun than we’d had since being together.
SUSPICIOU SCALLER
33
WE WERE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF SINGING and dancing and had been making so much noise that we hadn’t known anyone else was within miles.
All of a sudden we heard a knock on the front door.
We all froze. Katie’s hands looked like they were stuck to the piano. The sounds of the music died away. I glanced over at her, wondering if I had just heard what I thought I’d heard, or if she’d kicked the piano or something. But the look on Katie’s face told me instantly she’d heard it too.
Then the metal knocker sounded again on the wooden door.
Bang! Bang! Bang! it echoed through the house.
“There’s somebody at the door,” said Aleta. “Aren’t you going to see who it is?”
Whoever it was had come to the front door rather than the back at the kitchen, where most folks came. So it must not be someone who came regularly.
“Quick, Aleta,” said Katie, jumping up from the piano stool, “run upstairs to my room and be as quiet as you can.”
“Why?”
“Never mind why. I’ll tell you later.”
Luckily Aleta didn’t argue about it and ran for the stairs.
Katie glanced at me, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing—what to do with Emma!
“Emma,” I whispered, “pick up William and come with me as fast as you can.—But,” I added, quickly putting my finger to my lips because I saw that she was about to start talking, “—don’t say a word. We can’t make a sound.”
I think she saw the danger from Katie’s and my reaction to the knock on the door, and by now a terrified look came to her face and she did wh
at I said. A few seconds later me and Emma, with William in her arms, hurried from the parlor into the kitchen and out the back door to go light the fire in the slave cabin, hoping we’d be good and out of sight from the front of the house.
When we were both gone, Katie tried to calm herself and walked to the door. There stood a man she had never seen before.
“Good day, miss,” he said. “I’d like to see the mistress of the house.”
“Yes, sir … my mother’s not here.”
“Will she be back soon?”
“Uh … probably not, sir.”
“Well, I need to inform her of a serious disease that has infected the colored folk of this region,” the man said.
“With all the changes after the war and all, and with the coloreds moving about looking for work and going up North, we’re trying to get word to everyone, especially plantation owners, to be on the lookout for any coloreds with newborns.”
Katie tried to stay calm, but at the word “newborn” her eyes shot open wide.
“Why is that, sir?” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling.
“Because the disease affects only babies. You ain’t got any blacks with infants here, do you?”
“Uh … no, sir. But how do you know what to look for?”
“We’d have to see it for ourselves. But what do you care … you sure you ain’t seen no colored babies? Nobody’s come by asking for help, nothing like that?”
“No, sir. I was just curious.”
The man eyed her carefully.
“Well, just the same,” he said. “I’ll be back in a day or two to talk to your ma. We’re trying to spread the word roundabout to be on the lookout for girls with babies so we can help them and put a stop to this thing.”
“What happens if you don’t?” asked Katie.
“The disease is fatal, miss. If they don’t get to us for help, the babies will die.”
Katie drew in a sharp breath of shock at the words. The man turned to go.
“I’ll be back to see your ma,” he said. “You tell her I’m coming and I’ll explain to her all about it.”
“But I told you,” said Katie, trying to recover her composure, “we’ve got no baby here.”
“I’m under orders to tell everyone, miss. So tell your ma I’ll be back.”
By the time I was walking up from the slave cabin, the man was coming around back on his horse on the road north. I kept my head down and shuffled slowly by, but I don’t think he even noticed. I’m not sure he saw the smoke from the fire either. As soon as he was past me I picked up my pace and hurried back to the house. Katie was hurrying out toward me at the same time.
“What did he want?” I asked.
“Where are Emma and William?” she asked excitedly, answering my question with a question of her own.
“Back there in the cabin,” I said. “They’re hiding. He won’t see them.”
Finally Katie started to calm down. Then she told me everything the man had said.
I thought about it for a minute. “I don’t know,” I said. “It sounds a mite suspicious to me.”
“Why?” asked Katie.
“Because of everything Emma said about those men chasing her and trying to kill her. It sounds to me like somebody’s trying to find her baby.”
“But what if there really is a disease? Should we tell Emma what the man said? What if William is in danger?”
I thought for a minute more.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t like the thought of her getting all upset. I wish we could find out more about it first.” As I said it, I glanced along the road to see which way the man had gone.
“We could go ask the doctor in town,” suggested Katie.
“And call more attention to ourselves at the same time,” I said. “I’d rather know more about this thing before we did that. If William really is in danger, why didn’t that fellow say anything about a doctor?”
“That’s right,” said Katie, “he didn’t.”
“And if they’re just after Emma, then we have to be careful because anything we do could put her in danger.”
I glanced down the road again. The man was just disappearing from sight.
“Miss Katie,” I said suddenly, “I’m going to go saddle two horses. We’ve got to follow him!”
“Why … you mean you and me?”
“Yep,” I said, then I turned and ran for the barn.
“What about Emma and Aleta?” called Katie after me.
“They’ll have to take care of themselves. You talk to them. We’ve got to know what’s going on. But don’t tell Emma why. She’d come orful streaked if she knew. Just tell them we’ll be gone for a few hours.”
ON THE HEELS OF DANGER
34
WE KNEWWE WERE TAKING A BIG RISK TOLEAVE Aleta and Emma alone. I’d gotten the horses ready in less than five minutes. Katie told Aleta and Emma just to be careful and on the lookout if anyone came, and to hide down in the cellar if they did. With Aleta there with her, even though she was just a girl, Emma didn’t seem to be as afraid to be left alone as before.
We rode off quickly in the direction the man had gone until, about ten minutes later, we saw him in the distance. Then we slowed. He stopped at several other places along the way while we waited out of sight.
After his third stop, Katie had an idea.
“You wait here, Mayme,” she said once he was out of sight again. “I’m going to go ask Mrs. Travis what he said.”
“You know her?” I asked.
Katie nodded and rode off in the direction of the farmhouse. She dismounted and walked up to the door.
“Hello, Mrs. Travis,” she said when the woman answered, “I don’t know if you remember me—I’m Kathleen Clairborne, from over at Rosewood.”
“Yes, hello, Kathleen,” she said. “You’ve certainly grown since the last time I saw you. How is your mother?”
“Uh … not too well, ma’am,” said Katie. “She wanted me to ask you if there has been a strange man about recently asking you questions.”
“Why, yes, there has … he just left. He was asking if we had seen any coloreds with infants about.”
“Did he say anything more?”
“Only that there was some disease going about and that they had to find all the colored babies in the area.—Why, Kathleen?”
“She just thought it seemed a little strange, that’s all,” said Katie, “and she wanted me to see if he had told you the same thing. Good-bye, Mrs. Travis.”
“Just a minute, Kathleen,” the lady called after her as Katie turned to go. “I have a question for you.—That strange fellow asking about colored babies isn’t the only man who has been asking questions. Has the reverend been out to your place?”
“Reverend Hall … why, no, ma’am,” said Katie, “—what about?”
“He was here just two days ago asking about some lady and her little girl. And you say he wasn’t out to Rosewood?”
Katie shook her head.
“I don’t know what it’s all about. He wouldn’t tell me who it was or why he was interested in them, but he had a serious expression on his face. Just seems like a strange coincidence, that’s all.”
Katie turned and walked back to her horse, leaving the bewildered woman staring after her, not sure what to make of Katie’s visit after the other two she had had recently.
Katie rode back to where I was waiting for her out of sight and told me what she had heard.
“Do you think the minister’s looking for Aleta?” I asked.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to worry about that later,” said Katie. “What should we do now?”
“I guess there’s nothing else for us to do,” I said, “but to keep following him, that is if we want to know what he was doing.”
After a few more stops, the man rode off in a direction that at first seemed to be toward Greens Crossing. As he got closer, Katie began wondering what we would do when he got into town. We couldn’
t follow him up close, or let people see us.
But then at the fork in the road, he turned off in the direction of Oakwood.
By now we had been gone more than an hour. We looked at each other, wondering what to do. But we had come this far without finding anything out. If we turned around now, we would know nothing. So we continued to follow.
But then suddenly everything changed when he turned off the road at the sign leading to the McSimmons plantation and my old home—and Emma’s too, as we now realized.
Again we stopped. But by now our curiosity was so high it didn’t take us long to decide to keep going. After all Emma had said and what I knew myself, I was beginning to have even stronger suspicions than before. As we drew closer, we let the man get out of sight, and I began to get nervous all over again. I tried to tell myself that I had nothing to worry about and that I was free now and just like anyone else—white or black. But it didn’t help. Because I knew there was still a difference, and I was on the bottom end of it.
“What are we going to do when we get there?” asked Katie as we rode. “We can’t just go in and say we were following that man.”
“First we have to find out if he’s just coming here to ask about black babies like everywhere else,” I said. “If so, then I reckon the McSimmons haven’t got anything to do with him and then we ought to go up to him and tell him about Emma. But we have to find that out first.”
“What will we say when we get there?”
“I thought we would just pretend to be paying Josepha a visit,” I said.
“But what if they do something to you, Mayme?” Katie said in a worried tone.
“What can they do? I’m not their slave anymore, remember?”
“I know … but I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
As we rode into the plantation and toward the big house, there was a lot more activity than the last time I was there. People and men and animals and wagons were all moving about. It reminded me of how it used to be, though I didn’t see too many coloreds around.
A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton Page 16