Ruffling Society

by Kay Moser

  When the audience remained silent, President Wiseman stepped closer to the edge of the stage and addressed them. “I have given this matter long, serious thought and have come to the conclusion that this action must be taken for the good of our country as well as the integrity of Travis College. A nation which willfully continues to disregard half of its intellectual prowess on the basis of gender is not a wise nation. It is folly to continue in our bias against women. The United States of America is two years away from a new century—a century which will propel it onto the international stage. If one has any doubt of this prediction, let him remember that at this very moment the United States is at war with Spain. Commodore Dewey and his Asiatic Squadron have defeated the Spanish fleet at Manila Bay in the Philippines. There can be no doubt that the United States will soon land troops in Cuba.”

  He paused, wisely giving the audience time to assimilate his words before he continued. “We Americans have chosen our destiny, and having done so, we must be prepared to lead in the world. To do so, we must abandon our prejudiced attitude that women are intellectual inferiors and open our institutions to them. The United States of America will need every brain, every talent that Almighty God has given His children if it is to lead the world. The torch of learning, of leadership, must be lit for all our young people! It is my intention today to make Travis College one of the first academic institutions to light that torch. Join me in congratulating Mr. Horace Bellows and Miss Sarah Novak, winners of the classics award.”

  For a moment the audience sat stunned and silent. Then Victoria Hodges sprang from her seat, held her hands in the air, and applauded vigorously. Seconds later, the entire first row joined her. Eventually, small groups in various parts of the auditorium rose to their feet and applauded, but many remained seated and silent. Sarah canvassed the audience, and she was not surprised to find that a large circle around Mrs. Bellows wore angry expressions as they refused to budge from their seats.

  President Wiseman raised his hands to quiet the audience, then turned and beckoned Horace and Sarah forward. Sarah hurried to the president’s side. Horace, his face scarlet with anger, sat a moment longer, making Sarah the first recipient of the classics award. As she felt the ribbon settle on the back of her neck and the weight of the medal on her chest, the responsibility she had undertaken to lift young people to a higher plane became tangible. Her mission was no longer a dream; it was a reality which required even more commitment and hard work than ever. The president’s words had catapulted her sense of responsibility far beyond Riverford, Texas. She now realized that her efforts had national, and perhaps even international, significance. Just as her mother had taken risks and shouldered burdens to elevate Sarah’s status, Sarah must now create a path of upward movement for other young people. She had gained the credentials to make her shoulders a stair step for youth. Overwhelmed with gratitude, Sarah felt anxious to perform the mission God had given her.

  The president extended his hand to her, and Sarah eagerly shook it as some of the audience continued to applaud. When she turned back to her seat, her legs shook beneath her.

  Horace Bellows, his face smeared with contempt, nonchalantly stepped forward to receive his medal. President Wiseman tried to shake hands with him, but the young man turned on his heel and stalked back to his chair.

  Undaunted, President Wiseman addressed the audience. “Before the recessional music begins and our graduates march out into the world, I want to thank each of you for coming today. Please join us in the Founders’ Quadrangle for a reception honoring our graduates. As always, I thank you for your continued support of Travis College. It is my hope that we may continue to serve Riverford and the great state of Texas throughout the upcoming century.”

  Polite applause rippled across the auditorium. The new pastor of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, the Reverend John Neville, stood and presented a benediction, and the string quintet struck up the recessional march.

  When Sarah reached the top of the steps that led down to the main aisle of the auditorium, she paused in the flood of amber light and gazed out across the audience. Her spirits soared. She was returning to the same Riverford society she had left that morning, but she was returning as a victor. The dynamics of the town had not changed; there were those who supported her upward movement and those who disdained the very thought of her social and intellectual ascent. Nevertheless, she had changed, and she knew from watching Victoria Hodges for the last three years that a person’s thoughts were the main molders of her reality. Thanks to the loving assistance of others, Sarah finally thought well of herself. She was God’s beloved child; she had been given extraordinary opportunities; she had done the hard work required to succeed. She had seized her God-given chance, and now she was prepared to enable others to do the same.

  Sarah’s eyes flitted across the joyful faces on the first row and settled on her mother’s tear-stained cheeks. I would have done it just for you, Mother. I would have. Even if I had not wanted it. Sarah’s lips quivered as she smiled down at her mother. As she did so, Lee Logan handed his white handkerchief to Mrs. Novak, and Sarah silently thanked God for him.

  Head held high and keenly aware of the weight of the medal she wore, she descended the steps and recessed up the aisle, through the dusky foyer, and out into the sunshine. Her new life had begun.

  CHAPTER 2

  By the time Victoria Hodges reached the Founders’ Quadrangle, the new graduates were posing for a group photo on the steps of Hodges Hall. She was pleased to see that Sarah, one of only three women graduates, had been placed in the center of the front row, her golden classics medal shining against her black robe. Her customary eager expression had heightened to barely contained excitement as her gray eyes sparkled.

  “Victory!” Maude declared as she joined Victoria, but her exuberance faded quickly as she studied her cousin’s face. “You’re red as a tomato. Are you all right?”

  “Just overheated.” Victoria straightened the navy collar of her white linen dress, adjusted its navy cuffs, then flipped open a fan that hung from her wrist and began waving it.

  “Are you still having those bouts of nausea?”

  “Not now, Maude. Let it be. I’m just hot.”

  “You two have produced a miracle,” Hayden proclaimed as he joined them.

  Victoria shook her head. “Oh no. We didn’t do it. Sarah deserves all the credit.”

  “Without you two, Sarah would have never had a chance. She would have never gotten off the farm.”

  Victoria shuddered. “I can’t bear to think of her brilliance being buried there. But you know, in truth, the major credit goes to her mother. It was easy for educated women like Maude and Christine and me to see Sarah’s potential and to open doors for her. But think of Mrs. Novak’s courage. She decided when Sarah was a little girl that she would make a way for Sarah to rise, or she would die trying.”

  “And according to Christine,” Maude added, “Sarah’s mother nearly did die trying to save her children.”

  “It has taken all of you to create this victory today,” Hayden said. “Mrs. Novak’s vision, Sarah’s hard work, and you town ladies forcing open doors of opportunity.”

  “How I wish all the town ladies would support such efforts,” Victoria exclaimed. “Just think how many disadvantaged young people we could elevate to a better life.”

  “Doesn’t every noble effort encounter resistance?” Hayden asked. “In fact, isn’t that very resistance often a blessing in disguise?”

  “Well, if it is, Sarah has been mightily blessed!” Maude declared. “Even today, only half the audience would applaud her winning the classics medal, and she had the highest score.”

  “Let us be grateful for that half.” Christine Boyd’s soft, lyrical voice and tendency to emphasize the positive broke the mounting tension as she joined them. “When Victoria first set Sarah on the path toward this moment, less than a handful of the townspeople supported her.”

  Victoria reached for Christine�
��s gloved hand. “And they were only following your lead, Christine. Heaven knows they weren’t following mine.”

  Maude laughed a bit too loudly. “I should say not! You were just that red-haired, bohemian, foreign artist who had tricked Hayden Hodges into marriage.”

  “Shhh!” Victoria hastened to quiet Maude as she noticed Edith Bellows, her eyes averted from them, passing by. “Don’t stir that up again. I am happy to say that I have now gained acceptance by much of the town.”

  “Nevertheless,” Maude grumbled, “this town is ruled by the most ridiculous traditions.”

  Mrs. Bellows turned and glared at Maude. “Propriety! This town is ruled by propriety, but I can hardly expect you to understand that, I suppose.”

  “Good morning, Edith.” Christine Boyd hastily picked up the front of her full, blue-and-white striped skirt and stepped between the two women. “Isn’t this a perfect morning for the commencement? Such good weather.”

  “The weather hardly makes up for the folly of forcing my nephew to share his well-earned classics medal with a sharecropper’s daughter.”

  “Sarah is no longer just a sharecropper’s daughter!” Maude barked.

  “Well, she should be! Just because you ladies launched her into a teaching career—” Mrs. Bellows sputtered to a halt, then abruptly changed direction. “And I hear that she is further shaming her family by going off to Colorado by herself and spending months and months doing heaven knows what. Why, no decent young woman—”

  “For your information,” Maude said, raising her voice as she held up her hand to stop Mrs. Bellows’ tirade, “Sarah has been accepted as a student at the prestigious Chautauqua in Boulder, Colorado, where she will be studying with some of the great scholars of this nation. Furthermore, she will be well chaperoned; she is going with a group of Fort Worth teachers.”

  “Fort Worth teachers indeed! That’s hardly an adequate recommendation. After all, you are a Fort Worth teacher, Maude Lindsay. That tells me all I need to know about Sarah’s so-called chaperones.”

  Christine hastily took Edith Bellows’ arm and turned her away. “Let us go congratulate your nephew, Horace. Such a splendid young man,” she murmured as she maneuvered Mrs. Bellows away from Maude.

  “Thank heavens for the ever-poised Christine Boyd,” Hayden whispered to Victoria.

  “Maude, really.” Victoria chastised her cousin. “This is not the day for a fight.”

  “You can’t give bigots like her an inch.”

  “But you don’t change their attitudes by a frontal assault, Maude,” Hayden insisted.

  “Besides,” Victoria added, “she’s already upset enough because we’re hosting a dance for the graduates tonight.”

  “What’s that got to do with her?”

  “Surely you haven’t forgotten, Maude, that she lives next door. She’s certain we’re going to burn down the neighborhood with the Japanese lanterns we’ve strung from the trees.”

  “And she’s already warned us about making too much noise,” Hayden added.

  “Who does she think she is?” Maude exploded.

  “Hush! Here comes Sarah with her mother.” Victoria hurried forward to throw her arms around Sarah. “I am so proud of you!” she declared before turning to Mrs. Novak and taking her hand. “Isn’t this the most wonderful day ever, Mrs. Novak?”

  Mrs. Novak’s face glowed with a proud smile. “I knew my girl could be a teacher.”

  “Indeed you did,” Hayden agreed as he joined them.

  “Maude!” Sarah exclaimed. “I was so surprised to see you in the auditorium. I thought you couldn’t come.”

  “Surely you don’t think I would miss the graduation of my best student.” Maude hugged Sarah so vigorously she skewed Sarah’s mortar board and loosened a lock of Sarah’s golden-brown hair. Everyone laughed as Sarah re-pinned her hair and Maude righted the hat. “Never could figure out why graduates should wear such a contraption.”

  “Tradition,” Hayden pronounced solemnly as his eyes twinkled with mischief. “You know, Maude, all those traditions you revere so much.”

  Victoria poked her husband. “Don’t get her started again.” She took Mrs. Novak’s arm. “Come, Jana, let me show you around the Founders’ Quadrangle. Hayden’s family donated the funds to create it when they built Hodges Hall.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Jana sighed as she surveyed the large space. “So serene. I can see why Sarah loves it here on campus.”

  “The Quadrangle is the center of the campus,” Victoria explained as she led Mrs. Novak to a Confederate memorial statue surrounded by a bed of vibrant yellow lantana. All around them, ancient live oaks dominated the setting, their corrugated, charcoal, moss-covered trunks gracefully sweeping the ground like welcoming arms.

  “Such large, old oaks,” Jana commented. “They’ve seen many human lives play out on this plot of land.”

  “Yes,” Victoria murmured. Just that one word, no more, for her artistic eye saw more than tree trunks in the morning sun: she saw a future painting. A couple in the moonlight. A woman dressed in white, half her dark hair piled on top of her head, half of it escaping the tyranny of hairpins and tumbling down her pale neck. A black-haired man in dark evening attire, his arms held out to her, snow white cuffs and hands flashing in the white moonlight. Would she be leaning toward him?

  The sun flashed across the giant magnolia tree in front of the library, applying its high gloss to the huge leaves, pulling Victoria’s attention away from the oaks and back to Mrs. Novak. “Why don’t we have some lemonade and cookies?” Victoria took Mrs. Novak’s arm and led her to the refreshment table.

  Mrs. Novak sighed with pleasure as she surveyed the white damask cloth and the garland of ivy and yellow roses which curved its way down the long table. “How beautiful! And just look at that cake.”

  Victoria’s eyes darted to the large, round cake in the center of the table. Three tiers high, it was topped with the date, 1898, and encircled with fresh yellow roses.

  “Yes, quite spectacular, isn’t it?” She spotted Mrs. Bellows and Christine Boyd a few feet away and tried to hurry Mrs. Novak on. “Let’s help ourselves to some punch and cookies and go sit down where we can visit.”

  “Oh, thank you, but I can’t stay. I have to get back to the farm.”

  “Surely not yet, Mama,” Sarah protested. “You just have to wait for the cutting of the cake. And there will be toasts made.” She laughed. “Even if they are only made with lemonade.”

  “Oh well, lemonade is plenty good enough for me—”

  “I should think so,” Mrs. Bellows muttered as she raised her chin and looked down her nose at Mrs. Novak. “Although being a foreigner, you have, no doubt, drunk plenty of strong spirit.”

  Mrs. Novak stared at her, a puzzled look on her face.

  “Here.” Victoria hurriedly handed Mrs. Novak a plate. “Help yourself to some cookies, and we’ll move along to the punch bowl.”

  Mrs. Novak shook her head. “I really must go. The Sykora women are meeting at our house. We’ll be making blackberry jam all afternoon. The berries won’t wait, I’m afraid.”

  “Stay for the cutting of the cake, Mama,” Sarah cajoled, “and I’ll come home with you and help make the jam.”

  Mrs. Bellows raised her voice. “By all means, Mrs. Novak, do take Sarah home with you to make blackberry jam. Her stained hands will be so attractive at Mrs. Hodges’ dance tonight.”

  Victoria felt her temper flare, but before she could speak, Christine Boyd took control of the situation. “That’s quite enough, Edith. Let us take our plates over to one of the benches.” She took the belligerent woman’s arm and forcibly steered her away.

  Victoria turned to Mrs. Novak. “I cannot apologize enough. I don’t know what gets into that woman. She just—”

  “It’s all right. You must remember, I know Mrs. Bellows from church. She never speaks to me, but I am well aware of her temperament. Besides, no one can dim this day for me. Sarah has earned—and I do m
ean ‘earned’—a teaching degree. I’m full of gratitude to God and to all you ladies who have helped her.”

  “You are quite magnanimous,” Victoria responded as she struggled to control her temper.

  Mrs. Novak smiled. “I’m quite victorious.”

  “I love you, Mama.” Sarah’s eyes filled with tears as she hugged her mother. “Without you—”

  “Don’t give me the credit, Sarah. Your success is the work of God. He gave you the brains; He helped me start you down the road to an education, and He provided you with Mrs. Hodges, Mrs. Boyd, and Miss Maude when you needed them. This is God’s victory. Not even Mrs. Bellows can tarnish that.”

  “But she will try her best, I promise.” Victoria forced herself to laugh. “Now, won’t you have some refreshments?”

  Mrs. Novak shook her head. “Thank you, no. I really must go.”

  “If you really must …” Sarah sighed. “I’ll go find Lee. He’ll drive you home.”

  “I hate to take Mr. Logan away because I know he’s eager to talk to you, honey, but it’s best that I keep the peace at home by getting on with my chores there.”

  Sadness replaced Victoria’s annoyance with Edith Bellows when she realized how little of her daughter’s victory Mrs. Novak would be allowed to enjoy.

  “I’ll come with you,” Sarah said. “Maybe if Pa sees me in my graduation robe—”

  “It won’t work, honey. He’ll never change his ideas about girls and education. And the Sykora women won’t welcome you either. You stay in town and relish every moment of your special day. I’ll be with you in spirit, I promise. You’ll never be off my mind.”