A Most Precious Pearl

by Piper Huguley

  He stopped eating. They had suffered a loss in money because he was there? “I apologize. I didn’t mean to take your family’s money.”

  Mags waved an impatient hand. “You paid it back with your lodgings, so it all worked out.”

  “I just think that your father is concerned about you staying down here where things are so heated just now.”

  “Like I said, I appreciate all of your concern, but I’m almost twenty-one.”

  “You still under my roof, Margaret Ruth. You’ll do as I tell you to. Honor thy father and thy mother that the days of the land be long upon thee.”

  Mags gave her father a stormy look. Ultimately, John Bledsoe admitted defeat and walked away. Asa had the sense that he did not confront his daughters like that often—it was probably Lona who did that more often, but he knew why John did it. He loved Mags and wanted her to be safe.

  “I don’t think that your father meant to shout, especially not on a holiday like this. He meant to just let you know that he is concerned for you.”

  Mags turned on him. “Why did you have to come? Everything here was perfect before you came and now our lives have been turned upside down. Our house was fine, Winslow was fine, everything was just fine before you.”

  He coughed, saying, “You mean Winslow, the place where Travis was lynched because he asked about the amount of money in his paycheck? Where your sister was attacked and forced to bear a child? That kind of fine, Mags?”

  “I’m going to get some of that ice cream,” Mags announced and she stormed away from him, toward the front of the crowd and the band shell, going way too fast for him to follow.

  Gripping his cane, he knew the kiss he had stolen from Mags’s sweet lips just a few short hours ago would never happen again if she had her way about it. Maybe not even the one he had stolen on her smooth cheek.

  Suddenly the three weeks that seemed such a short time just a little bit ago, loomed large and long before him.

  Chapter Twelve

  She would not cry.

  He would not receive any satisfaction from her to show that she cared.

  She said she was going to have some ice cream, and by gosh, she was going to have some. A memory of how her older sister would chide the annual Winslow ice cream formed in her mind and she had to laugh. Ruby called it “soup time.” The whites were all served it first, while it was cold and more than frozen. Only then could the Negroes have a portion, which, by the time they got to it, had been exposed to the hot Georgia weather and was a slushy soupy consistency. Still, it would be a sweet treat, and since the cream their cows produced went to make butter or to sell, the ice cream was a rare treat as well.

  She ignored all of the mean looks she encountered from both races as she skirted the line between the area where the Negroes were allowed to the front of the band shell where the whites all sat listening to the music.

  There was band music now because of Ruby. It was Ruby’s fault they no longer had readings of the Declaration of Independence—now you had to do that at home for your family and yourself before you came to the celebrations.

  As she expected, the booth where they dished out the ice cream still had white people waiting in front so she reluctantly took her place at the end of the line, fully prepared to wait her turn to be at least the first Negro to receive the special treat. Still, there were at least fifty people in line and while some people were kind and spoke to her, she could see there were others who were ready to lord their special privilege of getting ice cream ahead of her. She didn’t care. It had been two years since she had any, and she was prepared to wait.

  The line went all the way to the back of the band shell where there was a small draped area off to the side where performers could get themselves ready to go out on the stage. As she resigned her mind for the long wait ahead, she heard a giggle come from the area.

  Katie’s giggle. She could not be mistaken because Katie was her friend, and she knew her laugh when she heard it.

  Then, she heard Paul Winslow.

  Both sounds came from the draped area of the band shell.

  She shook her head, thinking somehow that would clear her hearing. Her heart stopped. Paul Winslow said something to her friend in a tone that she had never heard before from him. A sensuous tone. The way Travis used to talk to her to persuade her to be “just a little sweet” to him. While the brief remembrance of Travis made her smile slightly, the fact that she had heard that tone from Winslow and Katie’s giggling made her wonder—what were they doing behind that curtain?

  Dear Lord.

  The contents of her lunch fought their way up her throat. All of a sudden, she didn’t feel like ice cream anymore. Pushing her sleeves from her wrists, she made her way back to the safer area where the Negroes were all congregated. She moved back to the tables, wanting to see for herself that Katie was there at her family’s table, right next to theirs. She was so busy walking back towards the table that she didn’t realize that she had bumped, hard, face first into a broad chest. A pair of hands grabbed her to steady her and she realized that it was Mr. Thomas that she had bumped into.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed, and pulled her sleeves down, feeling exposed all of sudden.

  “Are you alright? Your father sent me after you—he saw no ice cream yet, and he didn’t want you getting into trouble.”

  “I—I.” Was she more shaken over the feeling of his hard chest against her face, or over what she had heard behind the curtain? She did her best to gather herself. “Was Katie back there?”

  “No, I haven’t see her in a while. Do you want me to get some ice cream with you?”

  Trying to form an answer, she watched as they saw the two law enforcement officials patrolling the area between the whites and the Negroes again and Asa took her arm in his. They both smiled at the law men who grinned in a terrible way to see their affections. Mags could just assume the lewd presumptions they were making.

  “I don’t want ice cream any more. Let’s go back to the tables to see if Katie is there.”

  Walking together, she realized Asa didn’t have his cane with him and was holding onto her. It felt good that he leaned on her the slightest bit as they made their way back to the tables. She wanted to hurry, so that she could see where Katie was, but didn’t want to rush. That would mean a separation from Asa. She needed him just as much as he needed her—to be close. When they reached the tables, the Bledsoes and Katie’s family had cleaned up their baskets and everyone was on the lawn area playing games. Katie was not at the tables, not on the lawn areas, just as she feared.

  “She’s not here,” Asa stated the obvious. “What’s wrong?”

  “I know. I was afraid of that.” She sat on a bench, and he sat down next to her. Right next to her on the bench. She wanted to upbraid him about the inappropriate nature of this action in being so close to her, but she was too shaken.

  “Should we go looking for her? Where do you think she is?”

  “I know where she is.” She told him about her experience standing in the ice cream line.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Katie has this…giggle.” She struggled to bring the word forth. “Could they have sent those lawmen to come back here?”

  “What? That’s crazy.”

  “Is it? I can’t even wrap my mind about what she would be doing with Paul Winslow behind that curtain. I don’t even want to imagine it.” She shook her head to rid herself of the mental pictures forming in her mind. “But those lawmen never, ever come in the back. They always stay up in the front. That’s one of the reasons why we always grab a table back here.” She looked up at Asa with her emotions reeling, her mind sifting through all of the things Katie knew. “Could she be some kind of a spy?”

  Asa opened his mouth then shut it. She was looking at him for some answers, then she saw that Katie came up to her with a bowl of ice cream and held it
out to her. Her hair didn’t look as it usually did. “Hey Mags, this here for you.”

  She could see that the ice cream still had some semblance of a frozen appearance, and was not soupy yet. The sight of the slightly orange-colored ice cream made her stomach turn. Shaking her head no she turned away, unable to look at her friend.

  “I would have brought some for you Mr. Thomas, but I didn’t know you was back here with Mags. You all want to be alone?” And then she giggled. Mags’s heart fell to the ground. Or it felt as if it did.

  Asa took the ice cream bowl and placed it on the table between them. “You know what, that’s an idea. We can share.”

  “Hmm. Hmm. I thought so. I’m going to see the three-legged races. Don’t you all do anything I wouldn’t do, now.”

  They both watched as Katie walked over to where the Negroes were engaged in vigorous games on the lawn side. Mags looked at the ice cream with a forlorn face. “I’ve never had ice cream that was so frozen before.”

  “Huh?” Asa picked up the spoon and dug in. “I was serious. Do you want to share?”

  “Somehow, I think I’ll never want ice cream again.” She looked up at him. “This ice cream is a bribe.”

  “A bribe?”

  “For my silence. I think she saw me there. Or maybe she saw me walking away. Once thing is for sure, Asa.” She stilled his hand as he spooned the frozen treat into his mouth. “She’s not trustworthy. We can’t speak of things in front of her anymore. Not until I get to the bottom of this.”

  “You take care. If what you say is true, then we all are in danger.” Asa put the spoon down, but her hand still rested on his. He squeezed it, stroking her knuckles with his thumb.

  She might have protested, but right now, she needed some small comfort at the thoughts she was having.

  She wished Independence Day were over.

  There was a spy, Asa knew, but Katie? For Paul Winslow? Even as he thrilled to be sitting next to Mags and inhaling her sweet peachy scent, he kept an eye on Katie as she sat with her family. No. He could not imagine someone as vapid as Katie could be a spy at the mill.

  Everyone came to the mill a little more tired the next day, since they had all been there for the fireworks the night before, so he drank a little extra coffee to stay alert. These were conditions ripe for someone getting mangled in the machines, an ever present concern.

  At midday, Paul Winslow called him off of the floor into the office. “Yes, sir?”

  Paul Winslow didn’t invite him to sit down, a sure sign of trouble. Whatever the reason that he was being called in for, it was not a good one. “You seriously courting Mags Bledsoe?”

  “Sir?” he asked. Did this mill owner have true investment in the comings and goings of Negroes? Interesting. When he lived in Pittsburgh, and traveling elsewhere, he thought white people cared nothing for the comings and goings of the Negroes.

  “Don’t be dense, Thomas. Are you courting her?”

  He cleared his throat to give him more time. If Mags were going to stay, she had to work with this man after he had left and was long gone and he wanted to give the answer that would best position her for better work and hopefully, more responsibility. “I take my meals with the Bledsoes, sir, just like you told me.”

  “And you’re staying there too.”

  “Now I am.” Asa put it forward carefully, since he hadn’t told Winslow directly he had rejected the mill house.

  “Why don’t you stay in the mill housing that I provided?”

  If Katie were the spy, staying in the mill housing Winslow provided would allow him to see more of what was going on with Katie since his house was just across from theirs. Hmmm. A chill went up his spine at Mags’s words. No. It couldn’t be Katie.

  “Someone, we never knew who, left a burning cross in front of my house, if you recall. I didn’t feel welcome there. I thought it would be safer at the Bledsoes.”

  “Definitely more crowded,” Paul Winslow offered up. “The mill house would have more room, and more privacy.” He gave Asa a lewd smile. “A young buck like yourself would probably like to have a chance to be alone with his girl, wouldn’t you?”

  He fumed, but he kept his anger to himself. “Margaret Bledsoe is a good girl from a very respectable family. She has been an excellent employee here at this mill.”

  “True. However, I’m surprised at John. He’s got all of those girls, all of them young and hot-blooded. Better to marry them off rather than letting them loose around town. It’s dangerous.”

  His stomach turned at the sight of Paul Winslow’s eyes. He tried to keep his tone light, but it was so hard. “I’m sure you didn’t call me in to talk about who I might make Mrs. Thomas.”

  “Not if it concerns Mags Bledsoe.”

  “You just said she’s just some young hot-blooded girl. What do you care about it?”

  “I been hearing that you been taking her for rides in the car. Only one reason to go riding in the car—to court right?”

  “Sure.” Asa swallowed on the slight untruth. Still, if a lie protected Mags, he was willing to tell it.

  “If you marry her, you’ll want to take her on away from here, isn’t that right?”

  “If you’re asking do I intend to return to Pittsburgh at the end of my assignment here, I do. I’m not interested in living here.” He said this with a great deal of emphasis, knowing that what he said was truer now than ever. He did not like this man’s unnatural interest in Mags, and now he could begin to see how Paul Winslow would not be above using someone as vapid as Katie to have her spy on her friend’s comings and goings.

  Tasting steel in his mouth, he knew he did not like that Mags was connected with this man. He resolved then and there to get her out of his grasp. Ruby was right after all. “Is that all?”

  Paul Winslow was not satisfied with his answer. “Yes. Thank you, Thomas.” Paul Winslow’s jaw was tight, but too bad for it. He would get no more from him.

  He went back out on the floor, and his gaze connected instantly with hers. She was doing her usual excellent work, but her face was open and questioning. Her beautiful black eyes and smooth brown skin made him feel very protective of her. So, he looked away.

  In his view now, there was Katie, messing up the steps that he and Mags had taught her. So he went over to help her keep her work straight.

  No one would harm Mags, not even her friend. Not on his watch.

  “What did Paul Winslow say to you?” Mags practically attacked him with her words as soon as they were in the car alone after dropping Katie off at home.

  “He wants me back in the mill house—wondered what was wrong.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “I did. I just wondered how he found out that I had moved into your parents’ home.”

  “I know.” She sat back in her seat and gave a grimace. “Katie must have told him.”

  He nodded his head slowly. “I have never seen a white man so interested in the comings, goings and dating life of a young Negro woman.”

  “What dating life?”

  He better not try to deceive her. She could see he was reluctant to tell her but she did not care. “He wanted to know if you and I were courting. Officially.”

  “It’s none of his business,” Mags said with vigor. “How dare he ask you?”

  “I guess he doesn’t know that Ruby wants you to come up and help with the baby.”

  “No. He doesn’t know because I don’t see fit to tell him, and I never told Katie that I was sure.”

  “He’s afraid you will leave him.”

  She quieted. She had been so busy trying to form complex plans that would make Paul Winslow suffer when the simplest solution was right in front of her eyes. She should go to Pittsburgh. Then he would suffer. But the mill would suffer too and the mill profits were the security for Adam, Solomon and Ruby’s new baby.
After all, Paul Winslow had to pass those assets along to someone. He had no one else.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “About what?”

  Men. “If we were courting or not.”

  “I didn’t tell him that. It’s none of his business.”

  “I agree.” It seemed their courting was no one’s business, not even their own. She folded her hands as he pulled the car up to the front of the Bledsoe farm, where she saw that her father had the mules hitched up, ready to go somewhere. When Asa stopped the car, she got out.

  “What is going on?” she called out to her father as he prepared to launch himself into the buckboard.

  “Brother Carver and Sister Jane are coming in. I was going to get them from the train. I didn’t know when you were coming.”

  “We could go get them, couldn’t we?” She leaned down a little into the car to ask Asa. “The revival couple. They are coming into the train station to start revival next week.”

  “Of course.”

  She waved to her father and told him they would go. John waved back and she could see that he began to unhitch the mules.

  “Thank you,” Mags said, getting back into the car. “Daddy has long days in the summer keeping up with the farm, and a trip to town would be a burden just now, even though it is Brother Carver and Sister Jane. Reverend Forrest is very nice and everything, but Brother and Sister are our family’s real spiritual guidance. We look forward to it when they come every summer, especially now because they couldn’t come last year because of the flu.”

  “I’m fine with helping out.”

  “And if they ask, as I’m sure they will, you can tell them that we are not courting.”

  Ah. That shocked him. Good. She didn’t want him thinking that she was just some simple country girl, pining away for his city slicker handsome self. “Whatever you want, Mags.”

  His cool tone made her blood boil. “We know that I’m not nearly good enough for you to court, so when you leave in a few more weeks, you can go back to Pittsburgh and find someone who is. Or maybe you can go back to France again.”