by Ginny Dye
Carrie turned and moved back into the dining room, taking her place across from Janie. Janie’s eyes were pleading with her to leave, but she just couldn’t do it. “I’m sorry, Clifford,” she said quietly. “There are a lot of intense feelings right now.”
Clifford snorted but looked at her with something akin to respect. “You came back in to talk to me?”
Carrie smiled slightly. “Aunt Abby said there has been enough hatred and prejudice. She’s right. I don’t pretend to understand or agree with all you feel, but I certainly accept your right to feel that way.” She took an easier breath when she saw some of the rage fade from his eyes. She had endured many difficult conversations with her father and with Robert over their feelings regarding slavery.
The difference was that neither of those men had spoken to her with the complete scorn and disregard Clifford had directed at Janie. Neither of them had caused her to be frightened by their anger — especially not frightened they would direct it toward her. She sensed Clifford was a dangerous man. She had to calm him before Janie was alone with him again. Only then could she think about a more permanent solution.
Carrie managed to keep her voice calm and even. “You are my friend’s husband. You are someone I’ve come to care a great deal about. Those are the things that are most important to me.”
She reached out and took Janie’s hand, tears springing to her eyes when she felt how cold and trembling it was. “You’re going home soon. I will miss both of you.”
Clifford’s anger faded away as he stared at her. “You’re a fine woman, Carrie Borden. I fear you will not like the world the North has given us to live in.”
Carrie shrugged. “I fear I will not like the world both the North and the South have given me to live in, but I learned long ago that I can’t let circumstances rule my life. I have to acknowledge them, but I don’t have to let them control me. My only real choice is to try and live a life of love and integrity in the midst of chaos.”
Janie’s eyes shot up to meet hers. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the fear fade, replaced by a glimmer of hope and strength. She gazed into her friend’s eyes, willing her to accept the confidence and strength she was passing on to her through her hand.
Carrie stood after a long moment. “Please join us in the parlor,” she said gently. “It may be awkward,” she added when she saw Clifford’s eyes flare with resistance, “but if you truly meant what you said about living with dignity and self-respect, then you must be willing to stand up for your beliefs without apology.”
She turned and walked into the parlor, praying Clifford and Janie would follow. She couldn’t imagine Janie having to go up to their room with Clifford right now. She simply wouldn’t allow it, though she had no idea how she would stop it.
She almost cried with relief when Clifford followed her. He stood stiffly by the fireplace but accepted the plate of dessert Aunt Abby handed him. Janie sank down on the sofa, suddenly looking as if she couldn’t stand one more minute. Carrie sat down next to her, staying close to give her moral support.
She looked up to see Aunt Abby gazing at her with warm approval and pride.
Carrie flushed and had to stiffen herself against the total exhaustion that swept through her body. Had it really only been that morning when Matthew arrived with news of Lincoln’s death? It didn’t seem possible, yet she knew it was true. She sat quietly while conversation ebbed and flowed around her, everyone trying to ease the awkwardness for Janie’s sake.
*******
Carrie had just finished feeding Robert breakfast the next morning when a knock downstairs caught her attention.
Robert caught her quick look of concern. “Go see who it is,” he said quietly.
Carrie shook her head quickly, glad beyond relief that Robert’s eyes were clear and his skin was cool. “There is nothing more important to me than being here with you,” she protested. “I’m so very glad you’re better.”
Robert’s smile was weak but genuine. “Now that I’ve eaten, all I want to do is go back to sleep. You won’t tell me anything that is going on, but I know there is something.”
“I just don’t want to give you anything else to worry about it,” Carrie replied.
Robert shook his head wearily. “I find I don’t have enough energy to care, much less worry about what might be happening in our country right now. I’d rather not know.”
The words were dark with despair, but they gave Carrie a bright hope. It was the longest statement Robert had made since they carried him in so close to death. It was also the most coherent he had sounded. He may not care, but at least the fevers had not burnt through his intelligence and clear thinking. She could wait on everything else.
“Alright then, my wonderful husband,” she said brightly. Carrie leaned down and kissed him softly. “You sleep. I’ll be back up later.”
Robert nodded but gripped her hand. “Aunt Abby? Is she still here?”
“Why?” Carrie cast about for how to answer him.
A look of confusion marred his clear features for a long moment before Robert simply shrugged. “I don’t know…” he murmured. “I thought perhaps she could come to see me.” He paused and seemed to struggle for words, the fog seeping back into his eyes and voice. “She has very good eyes,” he finally said, before he sagged back against the pillow and closed his eyes.
Carrie pulled the blanket up around his thin shoulders and gave him another gentle kiss, glad she didn’t have to explain why Aunt Abby was gone. She didn’t know how Robert would respond to Lincoln’s death. She had no intention of letting him hear anything that would upset him. All she cared about was him getting better so they could leave Richmond and return to Cromwell Plantation.
************
Rose was waiting out in the hallway for her. “He’s better this morning?”
“Yes. We actually had a short conversation. It wore him out, but it convinced me my husband is still in there.” Carrie looked back at the room. “I don’t care how long it takes — Robert is going to get well.”
Rose wrapped her arm around Carrie’s waist and squeezed tightly. “I believe that completely,” she assured her.
Just then a giggle sounded from the room two doors down.
Carrie smiled. “John is awake?”
Rose laughed. “That boy wakes up the minute his daddy opens his eyes. He not only looks exactly like his him, it’s as if there is a cord between the two of them. All John cares about is being with Moses. It’s like he doesn’t want to miss even one moment.”
“Can you blame him? They’ve been apart for most of his life. John only saw Moses when he could slip in from serving in the Union Army. Every time he’s seen him, he had to say goodbye again so quickly. He probably can’t really believe, or understand, that his daddy is home to stay.”
“You’re right,” Rose said quietly, tears of gladness pooling in her eyes. “Seeing the two of them together gives me so much joy I can hardly stand it sometimes.” A lone tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. “When I think about how close Moses came to dying…if you hadn’t saved him…”
“Well, I did!” Carrie said, determined to banish dark thoughts from the house. She decided to change the subject. “Do you know who is downstairs?”
Rose wiped away the tear and smiled. “I know what you’re doing, Carrie Borden, but I’m going to let you change the subject just because you did save my husband. I will forever be grateful,” she said softly. She cocked her head and listened closely. “I believe that is Dr. Wild’s voice I hear downstairs.”
Carrie also cocked her head, but her expression remained blank. “You can hear that? I can hear a murmur, but I can’t detect any voices.”
“Spend most of your life as a slave,” Rose said blandly, “and you’ll learn to listen harder. Always knowing what was going on was necessary to making it in the big house. You’s sure ‘nuff didn’t want to be caught by no surprise!” she said playfully, slipping into the slave lingo.
“That’s true,” Rose agreed calmly, her eyes sparkling with fun. “But I did know how to fit in down in the quarters,” she said impishly. “Now, are you going to sit up here and jabber with me, or go down and find out what Dr. Wild wants? I’m quite sure he didn’t come down here to see anyone but you.”
Carrie laughed and turned to run down the stairs, but then spun back around to give Rose a resounding kiss on the cheek. “I do love you, you know! I’m so very glad to have you back in my life again.” For just a moment the loneliness of the four years they were separated pressed down on her, but she pushed it back. The war was over.
“And I love you,” Rose replied, her eyes wet with emotion. “Now go!” she commanded.
Carrie was still smiling when she entered the parlor. Her smile disappeared when she saw Dr. Wild’s sober eyes. “What’s wrong?” she demanded, stiffening to prepare for whatever else was coming.
“We’re short of help,” Dr. Wild said. “So many of our boys were injured yesterday during the retaliation of the Union troops for Lincoln’s assassination.”
Carrie frowned. “Matthew told me a little of it. I suspected he was either hiding the whole truth or simply didn’t know. I didn’t realize it was so bad,” she murmured.
“He might not have known, but it doesn’t matter. So many of our medical personnel have left to return home to their families. I’m afraid I’m desperate for some help.”
Carrie nodded briskly. “Of course. I will need just a minute to get my things.”
“I hate to take you away from Robert right now.”
Carrie shook her head. “It’s quite all right. I just fed him breakfast. He’ll sleep the morning away, and Rose will be able to feed him lunch.” She suddenly saw the answer to another problem. “Let me go get Janie,” she said impulsively.
“I thought she and Clifford were leaving tomorrow for Raleigh,” Dr. Wild protested. “I couldn’t possibly ask her for help right now.”
“Nonsense,” Carrie returned. “You know she wouldn’t forgive either one of us if she didn’t have an opportunity to assist.” She turned toward the east wing, praying that Clifford would allow her to go.
Fortunately, Clifford had left the house to take care of some business. Janie grabbed up her medical bag with a look of utter relief when Carrie explained the situation. “Of course I’ll help,” she responded fervently.
Carrie gripped her hand as they walked down the hall. “We have to talk later.”
Janie stiffened and nodded. “I know,” she said hesitantly. “But right now we have men who need us.”
*******
Moses settled back in the big porch swing, smiling down at little John fast asleep on his shoulder. Soft spring air flowed around them, bringing with it the aroma of magnolias just bursting forth from their tight white buds. The creak of the swing kept rhythm with the carriages rattling past the house. He watched idly as May picked early spring vegetables from the garden for dinner that night.
There had been so many times in the last four years when he wondered if he would ever feel peace again. Even the knowledge of Lincoln’s death couldn’t overshadow the sheer peace of holding his sleeping son on a warm spring day.
“He’s going to be as big as you before you know it,” Jeremy teased. “It seems like he gets bigger every day.”
Moses nodded. “I’m glad this war ended in time for me to still hold him like this.” His voice was rough with emotion. “I’ve missed so much already in the first three years of his life.”
“Your son adores you,” Jeremy responded. “It’s like the two of you have never been apart a day in your lives.”
“We’re making up for lost time,” Moses agreed easily. “Your father was a fine man,” he said, changing the subject.
Jeremy’s face tightened for just an instant. “Well, the father who raised me anyway. I still can’t get used to knowing Thomas’s father is my real father, or that Carrie is actually my niece…” His voice trailed off as his eyes grew thoughtful. “There are times when I can only hope to God that I’m a better man than he was.”
“Times were different,” Moses observed.
Jeremy stared at him. “You can’t possibly be all right with the fact that he raped Sarah.”
“Of course not, but I’ve also learned enough to know it happened a lot. There are more men and women around this country like you than anyone would like to admit.”
“Half black and half white,” Jeremy said. “That is easier to get used to than the reality of who it was.”
“Is it?” Moses asked, his eyes suddenly sharp and focused. “Is it really easier? Do you have any clue what your life is going to be like now that you’re not a white man?”
Jeremy shrugged casually but took a deep breath and settled back against his seat. “Probably not,” he admitted slowly. “The only thing I’ve really thought much about is getting to know Thomas and Carrie, and having the joy of getting to know my twin.” He smiled. “Rose is really something.”
“That she is,” Moses agreed but continued to press. “Your life isn’t going to be the same, Jeremy. Are you ready for that?”
Jeremy took another deep breath. “How can I be?” he asked simply. “I have no idea what it means. I’ve spent my entire life as a white person. I’ve worked in the Virginia government as a white man. I’ve earned respect as a white man. I’ve never experienced anything else…”
“You have no idea what to expect,” Moses finished for him.
“How could I?” Jeremy asked again, only his eyes revealing his tension. He looked at Moses for several long moments. “What can I expect?” he finally asked quietly.
Moses opened his mouth, but then closed it again.
“You started this conversation,” Jeremy reminded him. “You asked me if I’m ready. I think it only fair you give me some idea of what I need to be ready for.” He leaned forward. “You’re right that I need to know. I can’t think of anyone I would rather hear it from than you.”
Moses frowned but knew he could be nothing but honest. “The fact that you’re a white man won’t matter once people find out you’re half black,” he said bluntly. “They will still be looking at blond hair and blue eyes, but they’ll see you differently.” He paused. “And they’ll use it to look down on you.”
Jeremy nodded. “I experienced that because of my father’s work. There were people who looked at me differently because he chose to be the pastor of a black church.”
“It will be different,” Moses said sadly. “Especially now…”
“Now?”
“Because the South lost the war. There are a lot of people who blame it on the slaves — on the black people. They figure if the North hadn’t come down here to set us free, then none of this would have happened.”
“And if the South hadn’t made you slaves in the first place, none of this would have happened,” Jeremy responded evenly.
Moses shook his head impatiently. “Reason doesn’t matter to way too many people. You’ll come to understand that. People are angry,” he said simply. “And when they’re angry they need someone or something to be angry at. We’re going to be it for a very long time.”
He shifted John on his shoulder and looked down at his sleeping son. “It’s going to take a long time for things to change, and I’m afraid they’re going to get worse. My son is free, but he’s certainly not yet free to live his life. People want a target for their anger. Staying in the South is going to make us their target.”
“What do you think will happen?” Jeremy asked.
Moses shrugged. “Slavery meant white people had the right to do whatever they wanted to us. Control us…beat us…kill us…rape—”
“Slavery is over,” Jeremy protested, his face tightening.
“But hatred isn’t,” Moses said firmly,
his eyes flashing with anger. John, sensing his temper, even in his sleep, stirred restlessly and whimpered. Moses took a deep breath and kept his voice calm. “Prejudice isn’t. The belief that we are less than them isn’t. I don’t believe the fact that we are no longer slaves is going to change those realities. It may actually make them worse.”
“Worse?” Jeremy shook his head. “How?”
“Worse,” Moses insisted. “It was bad enough when the South was successful and wealthy. Now they have lost everything. There is a lot of pain and a lot of anger.”
“And people want a target for their pain,” Jeremy finished for him.
“Yes,” Moses agreed, “but it goes even deeper than that. Slave owners truly believe blacks are an inferior species. They believe we are simply not capable of controlling our own destinies. It appalls them to think we are being put on equal footing with them. And it scares them,” he added. “They controlled us through slavery. Now suddenly we’re free. They’re going to be looking for every way possible to keep us in our place. They’ll do whatever it takes,” he finished grimly.
“You paint an ugly picture,” Jeremy said, protest in his eyes.
Moses eyed him sympathetically. “You said you wanted to know.” He paused. “It doesn’t have to be that way for you though.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s only a few people who know who you really are.” Moses took a deep breath. “It can stay that way. You can keep living your life as a white man.”
Jeremy stared at him hard and managed a tight smile. “I hate that I have to admit I’ve thought about it.”
“And…?”
“No.”
“Why not? It would make things so much easier for you,” Moses insisted. “It doesn’t mean you have to give up your relationship with Rose.”
“Have you talked with Rose about this?” Jeremy asked suddenly.
Moses nodded. “She knows what I know. She loves you too much to want you to be hurt.”
Jeremy nodded and smiled again, a genuine smile that lit his face. “I know.” He looked out over the street and watched a carriage roll by with an elegantly dressed woman who smiled up at him until she saw Moses. Her smile vanished and became an angry look of disdain — obvious anger at the impertinence of a black man sitting in the presence of a white man on a front porch in a white neighborhood. She averted her eyes quickly.