A Picture of Freedom

by Patricia C. McKissack

  I’ve looked at myself in Miz Lilly’s mirror before. I aine what you call homely, but I’d like for my teeth not to be so big. My head sits square on my shoulders, but I’d like to be taller — stronger. I guess I’m all right, but I don’t feel all right.

  Wednesday

  It was durin’ the dark of night when Rufus came knockin’ at the kitchen door, hollerin’ and all in a sweat. Aggie was ’bout to give birth. I begged Aunt Tee to let me go with her durin’ the birthin’, but she aine never let me go and she didn’t this time neither. She took Spicy. I was mad and sat in a huff. Big girls got to do all kinds of things. I wasn’t little any more and I wasn’t a growed up woman. I was somethin’ in between.

  I fumed and fussed until they got back, and I made Spicy tell me everythin’ — everythin’. Aunt Tee was right. Mid-wifein’ aine for me. I don’t think I ever want to see a baby bein’ birthed — not after what Spicy say went on. But I looked close at the smile on Spicy’s face while she was tellin’ me that Rufus and Aggie had a big, healthy boy. “And I helped to get him here,” she say real excited-like. Spicy had light in her eyes. I heard happy in her voice, and I knew Aunt Tee was right to take Spicy along.

  Next day

  All I can think ’bout today is that Aggie and Rufus have now made Mas’ Henley the owner of twenty-eight slaves. Their little baby don’t belong to them — he belongs to Mas’ Henley.

  Followin’ day

  I went to see the new baby today. I picked a bunch of wildflowers to take to Aggie. Aunt Tee sent a basket of good things she had been holdin’ back for Aggie to eat ’cause she’s nursin’ and needs the nourishmentation.

  Wook showed me her new baby brother. It felt so good to hold him — so soft. Aggie and Rufus be so proud. I see why. Their baby boy is so beautiful. Aunt Tee seen to it that Mas’ Henley ’llows new mothers a week free from the fields after havin’ a baby. Aggie will get to be with her son for a whole week — just him and her.

  I finally got a chance to talk to Wook and I found out about her gettin’ married. Like I suspicioned, Wook hates bein’ married. But Mas’ Henley made her marry Lee. See, Miz Lilly keeps up with the girls who come of age, and she tells Mas’ Henley. When Wook turned fifteen, he told her to choose a husband. When she didn’t, he picked out Lee — said they’d make strong babies. “Lee don’t love me,” she said. “And I don’t love him. This aine no marriage.”

  “Aunt Tee and Uncle Heb didn’t love each other when they got married, but they grew to, later on. Maybe you and Lee will come to care ’bout each other.” I didn’t believe what I was sayin’ and neither did Wook. How can they, when they don’t even-now live together? Lee can only get passes once in a while.

  Is that goin’ to happen to me? When I come of age, is Mas’ Henley gon’ make me marry somebody just so I can have babies for him to own? I won’t let that happen to me. I won’t.

  Saturday

  All week we been busy cleanin’ the Big House. Winter dirt been scrubbed away to make room for summer dust. We’ve all worked until our hands be raw and our backs ache. Aunt Tee made a salve to help the soreness. She makes me watch when she’s makin’ up stuff. I know the recipes to all kinds of salves and potions, but she done forbidden me to tell anyone her secrets. It makes me feel bad sometimes that Aunt Tee tells me her secrets, ’cause I’m scared to tell her mine.

  Later on

  An old gamblin’ friend of Mas’ Henley’s, Stanley Graves, been here for a day or so. Miz Lilly been takin’ her meals with William. Not that she wanted to, but to spite Mas’ Henley. She don’t ’prove of his gamblin’.

  While Spicy and me was a-servin’ dessert, we overheard Graves and Mas’ talkin’ about abolistines. I listened to as much as I dared. Graves say they think the abolistines might run a man for president of the United States. I know ’bout the president from study time. He’s the mas’er of all the other mas’ers. If the president is a abolistine, then he can do ’way with slavery and the mas’ers can’t stop him.

  I heared a new word. Cecession. I’m gon’ add it to my list of words to know.

  Third Sunday in May

  I read the calendar on Mas’ Henley’s desk. It is Sunday, May 22, 1859. Rufus talked ’bout the Garden of Eden this mornin’. God’s garden, filled with peace, love, no hurt, no sufferin’ and no slavery. There aine no such place ’round here and that’s for sure. All through service we could hear Mas’ Henley and Miz Lilly fightin’ again — shoutin’ mean words, flyin’ every which way. That means it’s gon’ be hard on Spicy and me when we have to ’tend her. She just as soon slap us for bein’ in the room as to not.

  After Sunday late meal, I came here to write in my special spot. I just wrote B-O-A-T, and I sees a boat full of people sailin’ past Belmont on their way somewhere. I wave at them. They wave back. Wonder are they thinkin’ ’bout me the way I’m thinkin’ ’bout them? Wonder are there any abolistines on that boat?

  Days later

  Rained all yesterday and today — no scary thunder and lightnin’ — just a steady drip, drip, drop. Been so damp, mold is creepin’ up the side of the kitchen walls. We spent the mornin’ scrubbin’ the walls down with vinegar water.

  After last meal, Aunt Tee sent Spicy down to the stables with Hince’s dinner. She come back just a-smilin’. “Well, I do declare,” say Aunt Tee, lookin’ real surprised. “I b’lieve Spicy is sweet on Hince.”

  Aunt Tee is ’bout the last one to catch on. Everybody’s talkin’ ’bout how the two of them been lookin’ at each other in that special way. I knew it since the party. Spicy and Hince. Spicy is a different person from when she come here. Different in a good way. Spicy and Hince. That Missy is ’bout to have a cat fit. Good.

  Next afternoon

  It’s Thursday. I shall never forget this day. William almost caught me readin’. Lordy, I got to be more careful. I was dustin’ Mas’ Henley’s study where there are all manner of books. I found one called an Atlas. I was so excited to find out it was a book filled with maps. I was lookin’ for Virginia, when, all at once, the door flew open, and William walked in.

  William laughed real wicked-like. “I know what you were doin’,” he said. “You was readin’ that book!”

  I thought I would die when he called his mama. My tongue got thick and my throat felt dry when I thought ’bout what was goin’ to happen to me. Miz Lilly came runnin’ from the large parlor, answerin’ William’s call. “Mother, Clotee was readin’,” William said. “She was in here with the door shut. I caught her readin’,” and he laughed and laughed.

  I stood there with my head down, lookin’ as blank-faced as I could. Miz Lilly made William stop tormentin’ me. “I thought you called me about somethin’ serious. Where would Clotee learn how to read?” she said. Her petticoats swished as she walked away. “Keep the door open, Clotee,” say Miz Lilly, turnin’ to look back at me, real curious-like. William had been just funnin’. He went on laughin’, but my knees was still shakin’.

  Saturday

  Aunt Tee said her elbow hurt all night, so it was goin’ to rain ’fore nightfall. I don’t know why it should surprise me. Aunt Tee’s elbow is good at callin’ the weather. But, the almanack I seen in Mas’ Henleys study said the May of 1859 was goin’ to be wet.

  I found out ’bout an almanack the same way I found out ’bout the Atlas, just by dustin’ the bookshelves in Mas’ Henley’s study.

  At first, I couldn’t believe that somebody could know ahead when the moon was goin’ to be full. But, sure enough, the moon was full on the very day the almanack say it would be.

  Now, I’ve got to be very careful lookin’ through Mas’ Henley’s books, gettin’ answers to my questions. After almost gettin’ caught, I’m real nervous-like.

  Monday

  The sun is still up, even though the time of day is late. Miz Lilly has changed the study time to early in the mornin’ when it’s cool. I’m still s’posed to fan.

  Hince and William went for a mornin’ ride, makin’
William late. Miz Lilly pitched a fit. Sooner or later all of us gets on the bad side of Miz Lilly, but Hince can’t do nothin’ to please her. Good thing Hince comes under Mas’ Henley’s say so. Hince would have it hard if he had to work with Miz Lilly. He knows it and stays ’way from her most of the time, too. Word tell, Miz Lilly hates Hince on account of his mama Ola and the talk that goes on ’bout Mas’ Henley bein’ the boy’s father.

  Aunt Tee is real closed-mouthed ’bout it all. But from what I can pick up here and there from the women in the Quarters, Miz Lilly wouldn’t rest ’till Hince’s mama was sold. Say Ola was just too pretty. Miz Lilly would-a sold Hince, too, but Mas’ Henley put his foot down on that. Say a male slave would bring more money when he got older and been trained. Mas’ Henley promised Miz Lilly he would keep Hince ’til he was at least sixteen.

  At first frost, Hince will come into his sixteenth year. Wonder will Miz Lilly ’member the promise? I hope not. I wouldn’t want nothin’ bad to happen to my brother-friend Hince.

  Tuesday

  Thinkin’ ’bout Hince’s mama always puts me to thinkin’ ’bout my own, ’cause they was sold one shortly after the other. Longer days allow me more chances to write. I just wrote M-A-M-A. Mama. I see her the way I seen her last — a dark-faced woman with joyedly eyes. Then the bad lonesome feelin’ comes into my heart — memories that sour in my heart. No more writin’ this night.

  Wednesday

  I didn’t know I was walkin’ ’round lookin’ so sad, ’til Spicy said somethin’. While pluckin’ chickens for the dinner meal, I told her ’bout Mama.

  I told her ’bout how my mama got caught in the never-endin’ fight that goes on in the Big House ’tween Mas’ Henley and Miz Lilly.

  Soon after Ola was sold, Mas’ Henley gave Mama ’way to his sister and brother-in-law, Amelia and Wallace Morgan, as a weddenin’ present. Since Mama was a good dressmaker, she could bring good money into their house. I was a baby and not part of the deal. Aunt Tee say Miz Lilly was so mad, when she found out Mama had been gave ’way. Say she turned purple — no doubt worried ’bout who was gon’ make her dresses.

  The madder Miz Lilly got, the more set in his way Mas’ Henley got. “You made me get rid of Ola, now you’ve got to let Rissa go.” That brought ’bout a faintin’ spell, the kind Miz Lilly gets when she’s tryin’ to win a point. All her fallin’ out couldn’t save Mama. She had to go to Richmond.

  Later

  The night before Mama was taken away, she gave me to Aunt Tee and Uncle Heb. When Uncle Heb retells it, he say it was right after the Big Times — the first of the year. “Clotee is yours now. Take care of her, love her if you can,” she tol’ them.

  I only got to see Mama a few times after that — once when Wallace and Amelia come to Belmont and brought her ’long to take care of their baby. Then durin’ the Christmas holiday she got a pass to come visit. Each time she came, we laughed and talked, cried and held each other. She always waited ’til I fell asleep, then she’d leave. When I woke up, Mama would be gone … just gone.

  Five winters ago, a rider come to Belmont. Wasn’t long ’fore Mas’ Henley come to the kitchen with the news. “Rissa is dead,” he said, his voice soundin’ flat like unleavened bread. Didn’t take long for the words to take hold. Mama was gone on to glory — just gone.

  I remember hearin’ the people in the Quarters singin’ all through the night —

  Crossin’ over, crossin’ over,

  Crossin’ over into Zion.

  Crossin’ over,

  crossin’ over,

  the beautiful city of God.

  When I finished my story, Spicy said, “Your story is my story.” Then we both cried. After talkin’ to Spicy I felt lots better. Spicy and I have laughed together, cried together, and shared each other’s hurts. We’re becomin’ good friends. I like that.

  Monday

  Mas’ Henley and Hince have gone to a race over in Chester. Miz Lilly been into it with William all mornin’. He stormed out of the house and spent the mornin’ with Uncle Heb at the stables. There was no lesson today.

  Tuesday

  Durin’ study time, the Missus turned to figurin’ numbers — and numbers don’t come to me quick like the letters and words do. But even as bad as I am, William is still worse.

  Wednesday, June 1, 1859

  There was a meetin’ at Belmont this evenin’. While I was servin’ up sweets and coffee, I overheard Mas’ Henley say he’s supportin’ a Cleophus Tucker who is runnin’ for Congress. Mas’ Henley is plannin’ to put on a big party in his honor on the 4th of July.

  “Tucker’s the man we need in Washington,” Mas’ Henley told members of the group.

  They left a newspaper on the table, so when I was cleanin’ up, I hid it under my dress to read later.

  Next day

  I read as much of the newspaper as I could, pickin’ out words I know. It’s still a heap of words I don’t know. But I did find out abolistines are A-B-O-L-I-T-I-O-N-I-S-T-S. I know the right spellin’ of the words now. I also found out that abolitionists live in places called the New York, the Boston, and the Philadelphia. Then there’s somethin’ called a underground railroad that slaves ride on to get away to freedom. I really want to know more ’bout that. I wrote all these names on a piece of paper. I’ll bind my time. When the chance comes, I’ll try to find these things on Mas’ Henley’s book of maps.

  Friday

  The rains have finally stopped. No rain all this week. Now the long heat sets in. Mosquitoes are busy, but we’ve burned rags almost every night to keep them away.

  Saturday

  Mas’ Henley and Hince went to a horse race, and Uncle Heb drove Miz Lilly and William to a neighbor lady’s house for the day. So, that meant I could slip into Mas’ Henley’s study to see the map without gettin’ caught. I found the same names I’d written down — the places where abolitionists live. First, there was the Philadelphia, then the New York, and the Boston. I found the Richmond and lots of other places I heared Uncle Heb and Hince talk ’bout. But that’s all I can understand ’bout the map. All the lines stand for somethin’ I know, but I don’t know yet what they stand for. I wrote down as many names off that map as I could get on a sheet of paper, so when I write the names they will be spelled right. All these words got to do with freedom, so I’m hopin’ all over myself that they will give me a picture of freedom.

  Sunday

  The river is high, and the lowlands are flooded. Rufus talked about the Great Flood. Noah and his family went inside the ark and God, himself, locked the door. Noah and all the animals were safe inside the ark. Then the rain started fallin’. And the waters came a-gushin’ up out of the ground and everythin’ and everybody was drowned. All ’cept’n, Noah, his family, and the animals.

  Everybody say, Amen. I really didn’t understand the story. I couldn’t see in my mind the world all under water. It’s like this. I read the words over William’s shoulder sometimes, but I don’t all the time get what the words mean.

  Then Rufus told us his new little son was named Noah, ’cause God saved Noah from the drownin’ waters. “God’s gon’ save us one day, too — but I’m talkin’ ’bout bein’ saved in the Biblistic way,” he said. “Amen.”

  Monday

  I just got one thing to ask — Why did God let mosquitoes get on the ark?

  Sunday week — second Sunday in June

  All week we worked and waited for Sunday. June heat feels hotter than the same heat in May. It was hard to sit still while Rufus told the story of David. When David was ’bout my age, he was a shepherd boy. He stood down a giant named Goliath with a slingshot and five smooth stones. “We must be like David,” Rufus told us. “When we find ourselves facin’ a giant, we must not run, but face the monster with the courage of David.” Everybody said “Amen,” even me. But, I didn’t feel strong enough to beat up on a giant. Rufus tells good stories, but I just don’t understand what makes them so great.

  First thing afterwards, Missy co
me switchin’ up to Hince grinnin’. I don’t like Missy much any more — and I don’t think it has a thing to do with Spicy. I just don’t like the way she is.

  Monday

  It’s June 17, 1859. I know ’cause I slipped ink out of Mas’ Henley’s study today — and a newspaper that was in the trash. Sometimes I surprise myself at the things I do just so I can keep learnin’.

  Followin’ Saturday

  I am writin’ by the light of a full moon. There was a lot of excitement today. Mas’ Henley and Hince rode in from Fredericksburg. Been gone all week. They brought back a beautiful stallion named Dancer, a gift for William. “He’s all yours,” the mas’er told his son.

  Everybody knew Mas’ Henley was just showin’ off. The horse was really a racehorse and Hince would be the one who would ride and care for it. But to keep Miz Lilly from fussin’ ’bout turnin’ Belmont into “a gamblin’ den,” Mas’ Henley pretended he bought the horse for William.

  It was so good to see Hince. As soon as he could get away from the stables, he came to the kitchen to speak. He was full of Dancer talk — went on and on ’bout how he was goin’ to win a hundred races ridin’ him.