Catching Moondrops

by Jennifer Erin Valent

  Luke’s eyes traveled up the structure and along the ceiling, where bits and pieces of plaster had fallen away. “Tal, you plan on treatin’ your patients for free after the ceilin’ falls off and hits them in the head?”

  Gemma clucked her tongue at him. “Oh, it ain’t goin’ to do no such thing.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Well, this is a fine mess. Just one more thing to take care of.” I crouched down and picked up one of the jagged pieces of glass, tossing it into a wastebasket, and then I grabbed the broom and dustpan. “Honestly, Tal, I wasn’t tryin’ to bust your window out.”

  He smiled and took the broom away from me to finish up. “Leastways we got plenty of fresh air, Miss Jessie. Lord knows, we’ll need it.”

  Turned out we needed much more than that broken window could provide. With four of us in that small space, all hot and tired and dusty, bumping into each other at every turn, a whole wall of windows wouldn’t have given us even half the clean air we needed. By the time we stopped work for a late afternoon lunch, I was about ready to pitch my dust rag in the woods and never look back.

  We had cleaned, sanded trim, and painted surfaces for hours, so I gratefully walked outside with the basket of food Momma had insisted on packing for us, my spirits lifting the second I presented my face to the soft breeze.

  There weren’t many words exchanged while we ate, but it didn’t take any words for me to see that there was something stirring between Gemma and Tal Pritchett right there on that hot, sticky workday. The looks that passed between those two could have come off a movie screen.

  Tal would look at Gemma, but Gemma wouldn’t look back. Then Gemma would look at Tal, but he wouldn’t look back. It was the silliest and sweetest thing I’d ever seen. And it continued on even as we worked. Several times throughout the day I felt Luke looking at me, and when I glanced over, he’d nod at Gemma and Tal almost imperceptibly, then smile or wink.

  Neither Luke nor I said a single word. We kept our peace and behaved ourselves, but we couldn’t help but take note of all the times Tal offered help to Gemma or all the cups of sweet tea Gemma offered to Tal.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that we were seeing the start of something big.

  Around four o’clock I noticed the light that had streamed through the windows all day was beginning to fade, and before too long I was having to put my face closer to the window frame I was painting to get my strokes right. It wasn’t long before a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. I looked at Gemma out of sheer habit.

  Her whole body tensed as it always did when she heard that sound, and then I saw her peer around at our rickety shelter. I figured just as she did that this wasn’t the sturdiest place to ride out a summer storm, and I knew without a doubt that the confinement of this space, with its broken window and porous ceiling, wouldn’t even come close to making Gemma feel safe.

  Tal noticed the change too. “Gemma,” he said softly. “Miss Gemma, you okay?”

  But Gemma didn’t answer. Another round of thunder, this one closer than before, had stolen her attention away.

  Tal looked at me for help.

  “Gemma’s not too keen on thunderstorms,” I told him softly. I leaned in to whisper, “It’s what took her momma and daddy all them years ago.”

  Concern flared in Tal’s eyes, and he tossed his hammer to the floor and went to Gemma’s side. “Miss Gemma,” he said with such ease a body would never have guessed he was a bit flustered. “Why don’t we get on in my truck and get you home before this storm hits? This place is all leaks and open windows, and I won’t have you gettin’ all wet and soggy.”

  I could see Gemma’s face relax the second he suggested they hightail it out of there, but she attempted a protest. “We still got work to do.”

  “And it can be done another day. It’s more than kind of you to do what you’ve done, and I’d feel sore at myself if I had to take you home drenched. No, you’d be doin’ me a favor if you’d come on with me just now.” He threw a few tools into his toolbox and tucked it under one arm, holding the other out to Gemma. “Luke and Jessilyn, that’s enough for everybody today, I think. Can’t thank you enough.”

  “You go on ahead,” I told him. “We’ll finish gathering these things and follow behind you in Luke’s truck.”

  Tal looked at Luke, who nodded and said, “We’ll only be a few minutes behind.”

  As soon as they left, I went to the broken window to watch them drive away. Tal was as gentle as a man could be as he helped Gemma into his old, beat-up truck, and I felt a peace inside because of it. “He’s a good man, that one,” I murmured. “I can feel it in my bones.”

  “Sure enough.” Luke tossed his hammer and a bag of nails into his own toolbox and whistled between his teeth. “And darned if he ain’t got stars in his eyes for our Gemma.”

  I gave him a cockeyed grin and folded my arms in front of me. “What makes you such an expert?”

  “I know a trick or two about such things, Jessilyn. Don’t you go underestimatin’ me.”

  The thunder grumbled louder now, and the clouds that had coasted in suffocated the landscape with gloom. The wind through the broken window tossed Luke’s hair across his forehead, and I stepped forward to sweep it away. “I ain’t never underestimated you over nothin’, Luke Talley.”

  His expression grew serious as it always did when a moment like this crossed our path—one of those moments when we couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of feeling between us. He slipped one finger beneath my chin and opened his mouth to say something, but I never found out what it was. An abrupt crash sounded through the tiny structure, and Luke shoved me to the ground beneath a shower of glass.

  We stayed there on the floor until the shards stopped falling from the last good window in the place. Finally Luke whispered in my ear. “You okay?”

  I was more stunned than anything, and it took me a second before I managed to nod. He carefully pushed himself away from me and brushed aside some pieces of the glass before crawling to the doorway.

  I rose to my knees but kept my head down. A large rock lay off to my right, and I leaned over to retrieve it, running my thumb across its smooth surface. I held it up for Luke to see. “One thing we know: this didn’t get blown in here from the storm.”

  He peered at me over his shoulder and scowled. “Stay down! Same people who threw that in here can try it again. Or worse.”

  I crawled across to where he was. “See anythin’?”

  “Nothin’.”

  He stood up slowly and scoured the landscape under the moody black sky. I followed his lead, but he put one arm out to guide me behind him. Someone had thrown that rock, someone who could still be here, watching us, preying on us like coyotes. We gingerly made our way around the side of Tal’s office until we reached the back of the building and saw what had been done to it.

  There, scrawled in red paint, was the word nigger.

  Anger and fear coursed through me all at once. From behind Luke, I slipped my arm beneath his and gripped the front of his shirt as though if I hung on to him tightly enough, everything would be all right.

  He put his hand over mine but didn’t say a word, still scanning the trees for whoever had done this.

  And then we both found him.

  A flash of white shot out in front of us like a ghost coming out of hiding. I cried out, but Luke squeezed my hand in reproach. I watched, hardly breathing, unable to take my eyes away from the very thing I’d dreaded ever seeing again.

  Memories from my childhood swept across my mind, thundering images of ghostly figures, darkness lit by the eerie glimmer of a burning cross.

  The figure stood there wordlessly, the edges of his white robe flapping in the breeze. The ominous slits where his eyes should be showed only darkness, the truest reflection of the soul that lingered beneath.

  I couldn’t breathe. It was as though the mute apparition before me had sucked the air from my lungs. My fingernails dug into L
uke’s chest, but he didn’t budge. No one moved; no one said a word. After several seconds that seemed more like hours, the man in white lifted one arm in our direction. He pointed a finger toward us and cocked it back once, twice, like a boy playing gunfighter. And then he disappeared into the woods.

  My knees were shaking, my heart pounding so violently I could hear it over the wind and thunder.

  Luke stepped backward so he was beside me and slipped an arm around my waist. “Let’s get on home,” he said softly.

  “But the office,” I whispered. “Look what they did.”

  He didn’t look back at it; he just sighed. “Creative, ain’t they? But we ain’t waitin’ around while they’re out there. We’ll deal with it another time.”

  “It’s gonna kill Gemma to see this.” I stared off into the woods where the Klansman had disappeared. “I never thought to have to run across them again.”

  I waited for Luke to reassure me that we never would, that this was the last time, but he didn’t say a word. I suppose he couldn’t. Who is there on this earth that can promise evil won’t ever touch your life again?

  He just rushed me around to the front of the office, loaded our things in the truck, and swept us away from there without a word. When we pulled up at the house, Momma and Daddy were on the porch, and they shot down into the yard like cannon fire the minute they saw us coming. They could smell our fear without a word, and before I could count five, Daddy was between us, nearly dragging us up to the porch and inside the house.

  When we got inside, I saw Tal and Gemma standing in the middle of the den. Gemma ran to me and took me by the arms. “What’s wrong? I told them somethin’ had happened to keep you. I had a bad feelin’ in me.”

  Daddy locked the door behind us. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Klan,” I murmured breathlessly. “They’re at it again.”

  At the mention of the Klan, Momma’s hands shot to her mouth, and I could hear her whispering a prayer to Jesus.

  “Who said they ever moved out?” Daddy paced the floor with loud, angry clomps. “Jessilyn, you sure it was Klan?”

  “Oh, it was Klan all right,” Luke answered for me. “Only saw one, but he did enough damage. Put a rock through your other window, Tal. Looks like you got cross-ventilation now.”

  Gemma slid down to the sofa and tucked her hands tightly between her knees. I knew well enough she was doing it to keep them from shaking. I sat beside her and put my arm around her shoulders.

  Tal walked over to the fireplace and leaned on the mantel, his back to us. “They do anythin’ else?”

  Luke shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Left a little note for you, is all.”

  “I reckon it didn’t have nothin’ to do with welcomin’ me to town.”

  “Reckon not.”

  “Harley,” Momma gasped, “I thought the law took care of this years ago.”

  Daddy leaned back against the doorjamb and sighed loud and long. “Honey, the law may have shut down the local Klan back then, but they weren’t able to clean up people’s hearts none. It was only a matter of time.”

  Gemma finally found her tongue and interrupted Daddy with a shaky voice. “And what with Malachi and his like goin’ about town talkin’ nonsense, there ain’t no wonder they’s started up again.” She slumped back into the sofa and hugged her arms around her waist. “I knew he’d stir things up round here.”

  “No, ma’am. It ain’t just Malachi. It’s me, too.” Tal crossed the room and knelt in front of Gemma. “They ain’t goin’ to take kindly to no colored man claimin’ to be smart enough to doctor folks around here, even if them folks is colored. You best think about that long and hard, Miss Gemma, ’cause if you’re thinkin’ to work side by side with me in this here town, you’re like to be caught right up in this with me.”

  “They ain’t got call to go after you. You ain’t done nothin’.”

  “Most folks they go after ain’t done nothin’ except be born colored. Makes it worse, them thinkin’ I’m bein’ uppity. I got me a target on my back, and I won’t have you gettin’ hurt because of that.”

  Gemma scowled at him. “Don’t you go tellin’ me what to do, Tal Pritchett! If I want to work for a colored doctor, I’ll work for a colored doctor. I ain’t ever had no Klan tell me what to do, and I won’t have you doin’ it, neither.”

  Despite the fact that my knees were still shaking, I couldn’t help but smile. If Tal Pritchett hadn’t gotten a good taste of what Gemma Teague was made of, he certainly was getting one now.

  Tal sat back on his heels, slipped his hat off, and smiled. “Well, Miss Gemma, I ain’t a man to go fightin’ a woman who knows her mind. I reckon a body’s got the right to do what a body feels the need to.” He took one of her quivering hands in his. “All I ask is you give this another day or two thought; put your mind to prayer over it. It’ll make me feel a right bit better about the whole thing.”

  Gemma pursed her lips and nodded firmly. “I reckon that’s the best way to do anythin’.”

  Meanwhile, the whole scene of those two hand in hand and face-to-face had brought my momma and daddy to a standstill. They had met Tal Pritchett the same day Gemma and I did. Tal had come back by our house that evening to ask Daddy if he’d be all right with Gemma coming to work for him. The way I figured it, he couldn’t have done much better than that to impress my daddy, but I don’t think either Momma or Daddy had bargained on seeing Gemma and Tal get to know each other quite so quickly.

  But the second Momma noticed what was up between the two of them, her fear melted away like candle wax, and she clapped her hands together in front of her face. “Well, I reckon the best medicine here is some fried chicken. Y’all are stayin’ for supper, right?”

  Tal let Gemma’s hand slip away from his and stood up. “Mrs. Lassiter, that’s right kind, but I don’t want to impose.”

  “You’ll be imposin’ if you don’t stay. I always like guests at my table.”

  “She ain’t just bein’ polite, neither,” Luke told him. “She’s had me here most nights for six years, and I’ve only seen her put out when I say I can’t come.”

  “With all due respect, Mrs. Lassiter, I worry my bein’ here might bring y’all trouble.”

  It was Daddy’s turn to speak up this time, and whether he was keen on Tal and Gemma finding friendship so fast or not, I knew the last thing he’d want Tal to think was that he wasn’t welcome. He crossed his arms and stood firm in front of the doorway. “Son, we welcomed Gemma into our house all them years ago, and we’re better for it. I ain’t likely to start changin’ now. Them confounded idiots want to run around here with their robes and torches, it won’t be nothin’ we ain’t seen before.”

  Tal hesitated a second, then walked over to my daddy and firmly gripped his hand. “Mr. Lassiter, I’d be honored to stay for supper.”

  Gemma could hardly hold back the ecstatic smile that was trying to burst out all over her face, so I grabbed her hand and pulled her up off the couch. “Let’s get on upstairs and clean up. I feel like I’ve got dust from head to toe.”

  We rushed through our washing, both of us eager to get back to certain someones but neither of us saying a word about it.

  She finished dressing before I did and flopped down onto her bed. “I feel like your momma does. I’d hoped maybe we’d been done with them Klan boys.”

  “Like Daddy says, evil don’t just disappear. Mostly, I guess it hides its head for a while till it seems a good time to pop out again.” I did up the last button on my dress and sat beside her. “Just wish it wouldn’t pop out at us.” I shrugged, then took her hand and squeezed it hard. “Leastways, we still got each other to lean on. I ain’t got any plans on lettin’ nothin’ happen to you.”

  She looked at me then in a hollow way that sent a chill down my spine, like there was something behind those eyes that spoke of worse things to come. “You can’t always protect people, Jessilyn, no matter how hard you try.”

  I did
n’t know what to say. Her expression frightened me more than the ghostly figure in the woods. She took my hand and turned her head to stare silently out the window.

  I looked at her brown hand and swallowed hard to keep down the fear that was welling up inside me. If the Klan was rising up again in Calloway, there wasn’t one person who could count themselves truly safe.

  Especially not the colored ones.

  Chapter 4

  There’s something about an early summer sunset that colors everything a shade of peaceful, even when peace is hard to find, and there was no difference in this one as I sat next to Gemma watching the sky go orange. We had plopped down in an unladylike way right smack in the middle of the meadow, and I knew we’d be picking ticks off each other before bed tonight. But we didn’t care about ticks or snakes or any of the other tricks nature had up its sleeves. All we wanted was the best view of the sky, and we’d found it.

  Once the sun dipped out of sight, I lay back and studied the clouds that reflected the waning light. “Miss Cleta didn’t bake today,” I murmured. “I didn’t never think to see a day her bakin’ would slow, but she’s gettin’ more and more weary.”

  “She ain’t no spring chicken.”

  “No. Ain’t never been as long as I’ve known her. But she ain’t never been tired enough to keep her fingers out of the flour, neither.” I picked a long, fat string of grass and peeled it into little strips. “She barely has the energy to get out of that chair of hers some days. I hope she ain’t sick or nothin’.”

  “Maybe she ought to see a doctor.”

  “She won’t see one now Doc Mabley’s died. She calls that new doctor nothin’ but ‘a schoolboy with fancy knickers.’”

  Gemma snorted and rolled onto her side, her head propped up on her elbow so she could look at me. “She’s still got enough gumption to be stubborn.”

  “She’ll be stubborn the day she stands at heaven’s gates.” I turned my head to search Gemma’s eyes for concern and found it there. “You think she needs to see a doctor, don’t you?”

  “Last time I saw her, she looked right poorly around the eyes. Sickness always hits the eyes first, you ask me.”