Henry and Jeremiah came out that evening to say their good-byes. Ever since all this had been happening, Henry had been sorely grieved about our talk of leaving. But he didn’t know what else to suggest either. He and Jeremiah didn’t have room to take us in. Henry just rented two small rooms behind the livery from Mr. Guiness, the man he worked for. There wasn’t room for us. They were men, and we were three women and a baby, besides. Mr. Guiness would never have stood for it, not to mention the townspeople. Blacks may have been free, but that didn’t mean they could just do anything they wanted, and if the whites around had seen anything like that, they’d have had a fit and probably strung us all up. So Henry had no better solution to our dilemma. He didn’t think Katie ought to leave, just like I’d told her, especially since she needed to be around when my papa, her uncle Templeton, came back. He agreed it wasn’t wise for her to come with us.
But if she was determined not to stay at Rosewood after her uncle Burchard became the new owner, at least, Henry said, he would keep an eye out for when Papa came back so he could tell him what had happened and where we all were. So we all promised to make sure we kept in touch so we’d all know where the others were. It was still plain that Henry and Jeremiah didn’t like the idea of us leaving. But what else could we do?
Jeremiah and I went for a long walk. But it wasn’t anything like the ones we’d had earlier because we knew we were saying good-bye and might not see each other for a long time. I think Jeremiah wanted to ask me to marry him, and might have been fixing to. But he didn’t, and I was glad. There wasn’t any way I could leave Emma, not now, not the way things were. And Josepha’d never be able to take care of her alone. I think down inside Jeremiah knew it too, and didn’t ask me ’cause he knew I’d have to say no. It wasn’t that we didn’t love each other. We did, at least I knew I loved him and I was pretty sure he loved me too. But sometimes life gets in the way of love. And sometimes being black gets in the way of how you wish life could be.
So it was a pretty quiet walk. There wasn’t much to talk about, any more than there was with Katie. My heart hurt. I never thought I’d be so full of love. But knowing I was going to have to say good-bye to Katie the next day, and that I was saying good-bye to Jeremiah tonight, made me feel so full and so sad at the same time that I thought I would burst.
Of course, we talked about when we’d see each other again. But you never really could know about such things. Life didn’t always go the way you hoped it would.
TOO MANY GOOD-BYES,
TOO MANY TEARS
21
WHEN FRIDAY MORNING ARRIVED THERE WERE three rolled-up blankets and three pillow slips stuffed full of our things sitting on the kitchen floor.
Emma and Josepha and I had already had several quiet private talks amongst ourselves about our plans and what we would do and which way we would go. Josepha said she knew of some free coloreds about fifty miles north, and we decided to try to find them first. The money Katie had given us kept sitting on the kitchen table for more than twenty-four hours after we’d talked about it. I knew Katie was serious and that if we didn’t take it, it would still be sitting there when her uncle came. So finally I took all three stacks and gave Josepha hers, and put Emma’s and mine in my bag. I figured Emma’s would be safer if I kept it for her.
Sometime after we’d gone to bed the night before, Katie’s suitcase appeared on the floor sitting next to our three bags. I don’t know when Katie brought it downstairs, but it looked like she was serious about leaving too. I didn’t know what her plans were, if she was still determined to come with us or go someplace else.
When I first saw Katie that morning, her eyes were red from crying. She walked past me without looking in my direction and began bustling around in the kitchen, as if by staying busy she could avoid the painful good-bye that was hurrying our way. I just stood there in the kitchen doorway and watched her until she finally turned around. We looked at each other for a long moment, then we crossed the room and embraced. We stood in each other’s arms for the longest time.
‘‘I love you, Mayme,’’ Katie finally whispered in my ear.
That did it. I started blubbering like a baby and cried and cried.
‘‘Oh, Katie,’’ I said. ‘‘I love you so much. I’ll never forget you.’’
‘‘Whatever happens,’’ she said, ‘‘write to me at Mrs. Hammond’s or Rosewood. Wherever I go, I’ll be sure to keep in touch with her and Uncle Burchard. They’ll keep my mail for me.’’
‘‘I will, Katie,’’ I said. ‘‘As soon as me and Emma and Josepha are settled someplace, I’ll let you know where we are. I promise. But . . . but what are you going to do?’’
‘‘I don’t know,’’ said Katie. ‘‘I think today I’ll walk to Oak-wood, unless Uncle Burchard will let me keep one of the horses. I’ve got the fifty dollars. I’ll stay in the hotel there for a night and maybe try to find a job or something. You said there was a job there once. I’ll learn to work, Mayme. I’ll work hard. And if I can get a job, maybe I’ll rent a room somewhere and wait until Uncle Templeton comes back. If I can’t find anything to do, I’ll go to Charlotte and try to find a job there.’’
‘‘What about Papa, then?’’ I asked. ‘‘How will he find us?’’
‘‘After I leave, I’ll talk to Henry and Mrs. Hammond,’’ said Katie. ‘‘When Uncle Templeton comes back, whenever that is, he’ll ask questions and I’ll make sure they know where I am. Then once he and I get together again, I’ll tell him what happened and we’ll come find you. That’s why you have to make sure that Henry and Mrs. Hammond know where you are. Then we’ll all get together again. Uncle Templeton will know what to do.’’
IN TOWN
22
WE WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED THAT AT THE very time we were talking about Henry and Mrs. Hammond, Henry and Mrs. Hammond were thinking mighty hard about us too. Because at that very hour, as we would soon discover, Henry was in Mrs. Hammond’s store, buying a few things he hoped to give to us girls, a sort of good-bye present, or something to help us get along on the road. When he had entered the store, Mrs. Hammond barely acknowledged him, grumbling that she had only opened so early to take care of a few things before heading out to Rosewood with a number of the other townspeople, for the doings there later that morning.
But just as Henry was looking at those shelves of pretty things, Mrs. Hammond’s eagle eye watching him with suspicion, someone walked into the general store who drove all other thoughts from his mind.
Mrs. McSimmons, mistress of the large McSimmons plantation, strode through the door of the general store. And it was plain from the determined look on her face that she had something on her mind besides dry goods or food or any of the notions lining the shelves.
Even though the plantation owner’s wife wasn’t a regular customer in Greens Crossing, seeing as she lived closer to Oakwood, Henry recognized her the moment he saw her. It seemed that Mrs. Hammond did too, because the lady straightened up right smart and smoothed down her apron. Henry did notice, however, that even though Mrs. Hammond’s eyes left him, her expression of suspicion remained.
I suppose Mrs. McSimmons was the kind of lady everyone for miles knew of. Although I reckon you could say the same thing about Mrs. Hammond. And it soon became clear why Mrs. McSimmons had come to her store almost at the crack of dawn on this day—she knew what everyone knew about Mrs. Hammond, that if there was any gossip about anyone afoot in Shenandoah County, she would know it and wasn’t above letting it be coaxed out of her.
‘‘You are Mrs. Hammond, I take it,’’ said Mrs. McSimmons without smiling as she walked toward the counter.
‘‘That’s right,’’ replied the shopkeeper. ‘‘Good day to you, Mrs. McSimmons.’’
‘‘We’ll see what kind of day it is, depending on what you tell me.’’
‘‘About what?’’ rejoined Mrs. Hammond a little curtly, clearly perturbed at her visitor’s tone of voice. Mrs. Hammond was not used to people talking down t
o her. That’s how she usually talked to other people.
‘‘They say there’s a houseful of urchins around here someplace. I want to know where it is.’’
Mrs. Hammond paused, eyeing the lady. ‘‘I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Mistress McSimmons.’’
Henry was surprised at her answer. He had no doubt that Mrs. Hammond knew well enough who Mistress McSimmons was talking about, since the shopkeeper had done more to spread the Rosewood rumors than anyone.
‘‘Come now, Mrs. Hammond. Everyone says that you know everything that goes on in Shenandoah County. Do you mean to tell me you have heard nothing about a place where someone’s taking in strays and runaways? Darkies, I mean. If I have heard about it, surely you have.’’
‘‘Well, let me think . . .’’ And Mrs. Hammond appeared to be searching her brain, likely enjoying the attention. And Henry wondered if by some miracle she would keep the information to herself. He was sure praying she would.
But it seemed Mrs. Hammond’s natural tendency to ingratiate herself to the most wealthy of her clientele began to moderate her temporary annoyance at Mrs. McSimmons’ manner toward her.
‘‘There’s young Kathleen Clairborne,’’ Mrs. Hammond offered, ‘‘over at the Rosewood place about six miles from here. She’s the one whose family was killed.’’
‘‘Is she the one taking in strays?’’
‘‘I’ve only seen one other girl with her, an ugly darkie who seemed more thickheaded than the Clairborne girl herself.’’
‘‘That must be it—that’s got to be the place!’’
‘‘Wouldn’t surprise me. That Kathleen Clairborne is nothing but a dimwit herself. Although they say she kept the plantation going on her own somehow—until today, that is.’’
‘‘What’s today got to do with it?’’
‘‘Her uncle, who now owns the place as I understand it, is assuming ownership of the plantation today. But’’—Mrs. Hammond paused, lowering her eyes modestly—‘‘as to the houseful of urchins, Mistress McSimmons,’’ she began, ‘‘there have been a few rumors, of course, but I must confess I’ve seen nothing with my own two—’’
‘‘Never mind all that,’’ interrupted Mrs. McSimmons. ‘‘Just give me directions how to find this place.’’
Henry didn’t stay to hear the directions. He left the store as quickly and quietly as he could. Neither woman paid him any mind.
Then Henry ran up the street to the livery.
AWAY
23
NOT KNOWING THAT WE HAD MORE PEOPLE TO worry about than Katie’s uncle Burchard, Emma and I and the others were still getting ready to leave. Katie made all of us eat a big breakfast to tide us over on the road. She was mothering us all she could, it seemed, one last time.
Although Katie’s uncle had said ten o’clock, it wasn’t much past eight in the morning when we started hearing wagons rumbling in.
‘‘I reckon it’s about time the three of us were off,’’ I said in a husky voice. ‘‘It looks like your uncle’s here.’’
Katie tried to smile, but there were tears shining in her eyes.
Emma and Josepha stood and picked up their things. They’d heard the wagons too and knew it was time to say our final good-byes.
Katie’s uncle walked into the kitchen then, his face stiff. But when he saw us obviously getting ready to leave, he decided not to say whatever he had been about to and just turned around and left the house again.
Finally there was nothing else to do but just go. The moment had finally come.
I couldn’t stand it, but I went over and picked up my blanket and pillow slip.
Emma was blubbering and telling Katie how wonderful she was. ‘‘Good-bye, Miz Katie . . . I love you, Miz Katie . . . thank you, Miz Katie . . . good-bye.’’ Josepha was holding William and wiping at her eyes with the fat back of her free hand. Then Katie looked up and saw me on the other side of the room, holding my bag and waiting for the other two.
‘‘Oh, Mayme!’’ she said, her eyes flooding with tears again. Slowly she walked toward me and opened her arms. I dropped the bag and fell into her embrace.
‘‘Aren’t you going to wait for Henry and Jeremiah?’’ Katie asked. ‘‘They said they’d be back out this morning.’’
‘‘I couldn’t bear it,’’ I said. ‘‘It’ll make everything easier for everyone if we’re just gone. You’ve got enough to worry about with your uncle and all.’’
Katie nodded and we just stood a few seconds holding each other tight.
‘‘I love you so much,’’ I said softly. ‘‘I’ll never forget you.’’
‘‘Oh, Mayme, don’t talk like that! We’ll see each other again real soon. Uncle Templeton will come back, and you write me a letter to Mrs. Hammond’s store telling me where you are and when you find those people of Josepha’s. Then we’ll come and get you.’’
I just nodded.
‘‘I love you, Mayme,’’ Katie said.
We stood back from each other. Our eyes were both wet, but at last we looked each other in the eyes and smiled.
Then I took a deep breath, picked up my blanket and bag again, and slowly walked toward the parlor. Emma and Josepha followed.
‘‘You all write to me as soon as you find those people,’’ said Katie. ‘‘As soon as Uncle Templeton gets back, we’ll come!’’
Slowly the three of us, Josepha still carrying William, walked out the back door.
Suddenly we heard the sound of horses’ hooves coming fast down the road. We looked up and saw a cloud of dust rising above the trees even before we could see who was coming. I felt that old fear of discovery we always felt when anyone had approached Rosewood over the past two years. My muscles tensed, as if ready to run down to the slave cabins to light the fires that were no longer there. I looked at Katie and our eyes met, and we shared a sad smile, knowing we were both seeing those same memories in our minds. But those days were over. The only people we needed to hide from were the McSimmons. For Josepha’s sake, yes, but mostly for Emma’s and William’s. For their safety, we were planning to take the road away from Greens Crossing. But it never crossed our minds that anyone from the McSimmons plantation might be riding toward us at that moment. Looking back, it was mighty foolish for us to just stand there, out in the open like that, waiting to see who was coming. I suppose we were hoping it was Papa.
It wasn’t.
INTERROGATION
24
WHEN THE RIDER BROKE INTO THE YARD, DUST flying, we were all surprised to see Henry. I knew something was wrong. Jeremiah wasn’t with him. I don’t know if I was more disappointed or relieved not to have to say another good-bye to him.
Henry jumped off the horse before the animal had even come to a full stop.
‘‘You girls better git,’’ he called, turning his head to search the road behind him. ‘‘Mistress McSimmons is on her way out here right now. She was still at de general store w’en I lef ’. Now, hurry on outta here.’’
‘‘Miss Katie, what should I do?’’ asked Emma frantically. ‘‘Should I go hide me an’ William in de cellar agin?’’
Katie thought a moment. ‘‘No, Emma. We can’t take that chance now with my uncle around. Henry’s right. Go, all of you, as fast as you can at least until you reach the trees.’’
‘‘But what about Jeremiah—’’ I began.
‘‘He’s on his way out,’’ interrupted Henry. ‘‘I passed him on my way. But you can’t wait fer him. You’s gotter git.’’
Swallowing hard, I tried not to show my disappointment, and we all began moving away from the house. Then I ran back and hugged Katie one last time, my eyes hot with tears, then ran to rejoin the others and led them quickly away.
As we went, I knew Katie was standing on the porch, watching us leave.
We hurried away, and I took William, since Emma already had a heavier bag with belongings for William and herself. Josepha huffed and puffed, but I think the thought of facing Mistres
s McSimmons again kept her moving. I wouldn’t have thought a woman her size could move so fast. Finally as the road began to bend into the woods, I stopped and turned back. I could barely make Katie out in the distance, but she was still there. I raised my hand and waved. I saw her wave back.
A chill swept through me, a chill of fear that I might never see her again.
‘‘Good-bye, Katie,’’ I whispered to myself. ‘‘I’ll never forget you.’’
Almost that same moment a buggy came careening into the yard, sending dust in every direction.
Katie quickly dropped her hand, pulled her eyes away from our retreating backs, and went into the house.
‘‘You’d better get out of sight, Henry,’’ she said as she went.
As the door closed behind Katie, Henry disappeared in the direction of the barn.
The woman inside the buggy kept yelling and whacking the reins on her horse’s back until she practically skidded to a stop by the kitchen door at the back of the house.
Mr. Clairborne had been expecting the lawyer, and Katie watched from the window as he walked toward the buggy.
When the lady stepped to the ground, he looked surprised and quickly reached for his hat, but it was soon obvious that his visitor wasn’t interested in niceties.
‘‘I’m looking for the Clairborne girl,’’ she said.
‘‘She’s inside, ma’am,’’ said Katie’s uncle. ‘‘But if you—’’
‘‘Are you the new owner?’’ she interrupted.
‘‘I am,’’ replied Katie’s uncle, clearly irritated at the woman’s demanding tone.
‘‘Then perhaps you can tell me if it’s true what they say’s been going on around here—that strays and runaways and coloreds have been hiding out here.’’
‘‘There were a parcel of ’em, all right,’’ replied Mr. Clairborne, ‘‘—kids, couple of darkies, a little girl— But don’t worry—I ran them off.’’
‘‘You what!’’
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