It Happened in Silence

by Jay, Karla M

  Frank is taking care of it from what I can tell. I’ve resolved not to help any more poor families with adoption. I’m sticking to giving them clothes and food and offering some a bit of advice where needed. I’ll have plenty to do if I can get onto the women’s planning committee for our local Klan. Bake sales, parades, visiting the elderly all alone in their homes. I never have to drive out to the sisters’ Beck Infantorium again.

  William parks the car and comes in through the kitchen.

  “How was your day?” I say with my best smile. I’m wearing one of my prettiest dresses. Soft petal-pink with a form-fitting bodice and a lace collar. We can’t be intimate for a month, but I need him to still find me attractive.

  “Not the best day.” He drops his briefcase by the door and hangs his hat on the rack.

  “One of the printers gummed up and set us back a few hours.”

  His voice is tight. He’s got that hard squint that says he’s concentrating on something.

  I point my elbow to the oven. “I found your mother’s lamb chop recipe.”

  “It smells good.” He leans against the counter with his arms folded. “I had a late lunch with Frank, but I’ll eat some.”

  Uh-oh. That lunch must not have been served up with good news.

  “Oliver and the baby are up in his room with Willow if you want to go see them.”

  “I need to talk to you, Ardith.” He rubs his temples and then looks my way. “I want you to take the baby and go on a trip. Get away for a while.”

  “Whatever for?” I should go alone with Karl? I can’t think of a worse trip. But full-time care? I’d be a washed-out rag long before I returned.

  “The Legal Aid Society is not backing down. They’re bringing in prominent lawyers from Washington, DC.” He sighs. “To interview you and find out what happened out at that place you took the Elsmore baby to.”

  “My lands! This is so blown out of proportion.” I wring my apron. Surely, babies are misplaced or switched around all the time. Only have to open the newspaper to read about unwanted babies abandoned in street alleys or on trash heaps. Fiona was so distraught, she might have left that baby anywhere. I was doing her a favor.

  “If you’re not here, you can’t be interviewed.” He scratches his neck, a nervous habit of his. “We hope the story will die down and go away.”

  I stomp my foot. “Just where do you think I should go?”

  “A train tour would take you three weeks to complete. Up to Chicago, out to Yellowstone or Denver. Like in that brochure you brought home.”

  “Three weeks? You can’t be serious. I have duties with the Daisy Ladies. And you and Oliver? How will you get by?”

  “Oliver is no problem. Willow’s here, and I could even take him to work some days.”

  “You’ve figured this all out without talking to me?” I fold my arms.

  “We hoped the inquiry would be dropped. It’s not. With the help from the Klavern—and they weren’t all too eager, I tell you—I might be able to keep the story out of the local papers and maybe the regional ones. But sensational stories like this get picked up across the country. It needs to die out, and with you here speaking of it, well…”

  “I don’t think I can do this alone. I’ll take Willow with me. She’s beholden to us, even to after I get back.” I picture the beautiful scenery going by my private cabin window. The spectacular dining car, meeting rich folks, because who else would be taking such an adventure. Maybe this is just what I need.

  “You said Karl’s less fussy. You can handle him.”

  The nerve! He has no idea how hard it is being a mother. He comes and goes as he pleases. Gets to go to lunch every day.

  “Are you sure you don’t want her here for other reasons? A girl that can’t speak if something happens to her?”

  “Ardith, of all the horrible things to think!” His face reddens. “What’s happened to you?”

  “Your brother Quinn had no trouble messing with the help.” I wasn’t going to ever tell Josephine’s story, but he’s got me riled. Acting like I’m a terrible person for protecting our marriage.

  He starts to speak, then stops and cocks his head to the side. Like a banty rooster looking for a fight. “What are you accusing him of?”

  “Josephine told Doctor Grange and me that she was raped by Quinn last August. And not just once.”

  He walks to the icebox and pulls out a bottle of milk, then puts it on the back of his neck and paces around the room. He returns it and reaches for my arm—none too gently. He draws a chair out from the small table where Josephine used to take her meals and pulls me to sit.

  “Starting right now, you are going to tell me every secret you’ve been keeping from me.”

  No way will he hear all of them, but I most certainly can tell him about his immoral brother.

  “Josephine’s baby looked just like Oliver. Both the doctor and I thought you must have fathered him.”

  “The hell?” His fists are clenched now. “Doctor Grange knows me from our brotherhood. He couldn’t have thought that.”

  “Well, he did. And he knew it would affect your membership and your businesses, so he asked what we could do.” I hold my chin higher. We were saving his skin. “I heard of this discreet place north of here, mostly hidden away, that would take illegitimate babies and find good homes for them.”

  “Wait. Her baby was alive?”

  “Yes. But what would his life be like being a white child and raised by a half-Colored gal? The doctor kept her asleep while I went to acquire and bring back a dead baby.”

  “Dear Lord, Ardith,”—he chuffs—“how can you sit in church after doing something like this?”

  I’ve never seen him so angry. “That’s what the Lord’s forgiveness is for.”

  “Not always.” He draws in a long breath. “The poor girl went crazy because of you. She knew it wasn’t her baby.”

  “I, um, the doctor and I didn’t think she would lose her mind. We thought she would be sad, of course, but would stay on and feed our new little one. Glad to have a baby to hold.”

  “Do you know you could be banished from the Klan? We could be banished. You’d be labeled an alien, never allowed to join again. My insurance company could come under inspection again. Already have too many babies dying that we’ve insured, and now you’re switching live ones for dead ones.”

  “William, I’m too important. We’re too important. Our Klan brothers and sisters will have our backs.”

  “I have to get some fresh air.” He grabs his hat and stomps out the back door.

  I sag in the chair. Banished? I’d go to tribunal before the Den officers, five robed and masked judges. Could even be William’s friends under those hoods—York or Frank. Well, probably not Frank, since he’s trying to help with the case.

  I quietly recite my vows. I will act like Jesus Christ and serve the Klan. I am in God’s army against the enemies of God’s chosen people. My motto is “Not for self but for others.” I pay attention. I report. I preserve Marietta’s protestant heritage. We are against northerners, blacks, Jews, schoolteachers, Catholics, Mormons, labor radicals, immigrants, bootleggers, theatre owners, dance hall operators, and feminists.

  I hold my head up. I can take this silly trip if that’s what he wants. My marriage and my standing in the community are most important to me. I clawed my way out of the hills to be here, and I’m going to fight to stay. I am no different than the other ladies of the Klan. We all are working for a whiter world, a purer existence for our children.

  William comes back and throws a question like it’s a flaming spear. “Why was Josephine made sterile if all she did was have Quinn’s baby? That’s what made her lose her mind.”

  “You know uncontrolled fertility in the Negroes is bad. The diseases, poverty, and overcrowding. Many people believe the Colored mother is the least i
ntelligent and fit to rear children properly.”

  “If Josephine was so unfit as you say, why was she caring for Oliver?” His gray eyes are chips of dark slate.

  “You don’t believe your vows to cleanse the country?” I lift my eyebrows.

  “Yes, but through group decisions, not out there on my own giving away babies, lying to women, and bringing them a replacement child or—for goodness’ sake! —a dead one. Did you take this Elsmore baby to that secret house in the country?”

  “Yes. They take in the sickest and hardest to adopt.”

  “And Quinn’s white son falls into that category?”

  Okay. He’s got me there. That cute boy could have gone to the New Hope Charity Home, except they require a birth certificate and answers to questions I didn’t want to provide. “The doctor and I may have made a mistake. But that healthy boy has easily found his way into a good home by now.”

  “I have you leaving tomorrow. Get packed! Take Willow if you need to. I’ll let York know she’s still serving time while helping you on this trip.”

  “I know the tickets are expensive. She won’t need a sleeper car.”

  “You’ll be sharing a compartment.” He slides an envelope across the table. “Here’s cash for extras along the way. I’ll be back in the morning. I’m sure I’ll simmer down before you return in three weeks, but tonight, I’m going to sleep at the Grand Dragon’s apartment in town. I’ll be back in the morning for Oliver.”

  He leaves before I get my tongue working.

  William is slow to ignite, but then he explodes. He’ll simmer down, of course. He’s still the level-headed man I fell in love with.

  As I head up the stairs to the attic space to retrieve a suitcase, I find I’m torn about leaving all this nonsense behind. What’s he going to do with me away? If I stay, I believe I can talk to everyone and get this whole problem taken care of. I’m good at painting a new scenario that matches what was said and done. Not really lying—just rearranging the truth a bit.

  But by the look on his face, William won’t let me stay. He’s determined, and I know when I can’t change his mind.

  I’ll go and do what he says. Have to let Willow know she’s going on a marvelous trip. As a hill gal, this is something she’d never get to experience. She’ll have something to remember for the rest of her boring life.

  I lay out the clothes the baby and I will need. I pass by my desk. The drawer is still open, but the secret newspaper articles have been rearranged! Oliver would have no interest in this drawer. That leaves the silent snoop. Of all the unmitigated gall.

  But how much can she read? The picture with my birth name across the bottom is easy enough to figure out. She’d know I had another name and that I was sought after. But could she read the rest of the article?

  If she has, I’ll need a new plan for her.

  I drop to the chair, exhausted from being the only one solving problems around here.

  After a short rest, I go looking for Willow. She’s not upstairs with Oliver or in the kitchen getting him a snack before bed. The house is much too quiet. Why would she be in her room with the boy? I don’t like Oliver to be out there and have told her so. Karl is a different story. He’s doing much better under her nightly care.

  I push through the side door leading to her add-on room. She’s entertaining? I hear voices, and she sure as sunrise can’t talk.

  With my ear to the door, I nearly drop over from shock. Josephine’s in there!

  I yank open the door to three startled faces. “What in Sam Hill!”

  Oliver begins to cry, but he’s able to blubber out words. “Don’t make her leave, Mommy.”

  “Miss Ardith,” Josephine says as she stands, holding Karl. “You’ve had a right handsome baby boy.”

  “Wha…? How are you even here?” The woman is crazy, right? But she seems put together, her face calm, her hair neat.

  Willow looks defiant. She has to answer for why she let Josephine back into my house without telling me.

  “I was let out.” Josephine pats the head rag wrapped around her upswept hair. “They agreed bad behavior like I showed can happen after birthing a baby. Something inside a gal’s mind just snaps, they say. I want to apologize for my awful conduct.”

  The nanny’s presence answers why Karl is happy. Obviously, she’s been suckling him, giving him good nutrition. He’s snuggled between her heaving breasts, asleep and content. What do I do about this? William liked Josephine’s ways with Oliver. And her cooking. Now she’s a bonus for the baby.

  “Willow. I am so displeased you didn’t tell me Josephine was back. How dare you keep such a secret?”

  A slow smile spreads on the mountain girl’s face, and in that instant, I know she’s read the newspaper articles. The truth pushes me back a step. How do I keep her from telling anyone else? Willow moves her hand in circles on her chest.

  “What does that mean?” I should have taken better interest in the hand signs she uses.

  “She’s sorry, Mommy.” Oliver mimics the same movement.

  “Oliver. Run up to the baby’s room and get a new burp cloth, darling.” I need the boy out of earshot for my next words.

  He scampers away.

  “Mr. Dobbs has bought us a great getaway. Tomorrow, Willow, you and I and the baby are traveling for three weeks. Up north, out west. It’ll be lovely. I need you to pack some of the nice clothes I have in the upstairs trunk.”

  Willow’s eyes round. Is she excited or scared? She should be the latter. A girl holding the kind of secret she has about me needs to find a new place to live along the journey’s route. I don’t want her harmed. I quite like her. But there’s no reason for her to be here, now that I have Josephine home.

  I get another idea. Josephine will come too. It’s a snap decision that will work out just great since William will know nothing about it until we return. A ticket in the Colored car is cheap. I’ll use the cash William gave me. I can have her feed Karl at the stops, and it will be a nice adventure for her.

  “And Josephine. I’ve decided you need to come along. But we can’t let Mr. William know, or he’ll send you back to the asylum.” I tssk. “He doesn’t much care for you.” I smile. “Have you ever been out west?”

  “Never been outta Georgia, ma’am.”

  “Then it’s settled. I burned all the clothes you left behind, but you can find some in the trunk.” My eyes drop to her mud-caked boots. “And shoes. Get a new pair.”

  This is going better than planned. Josephine is here, so Willow can finish out her sentence in another state, and Baby Karl will be taken care of.

  “Oh, Oliver is staying here with Mr. William. Let’s not say anything to the boy until morning.” I open the door. “And Willow, why don’t you let Josephine have her room, and you take the spare bedroom tonight? Mr. William is away with the men, so it’s just us ladies overseeing everything.”

  She nods and shoots a knowing look to Josephine.

  What have they been talking about since she returned?

  No worries. I have weeks to discern what they think they know.

  Willow Stewart

  Miss Ardith dumps out my packed satchel on the floor of the nanny’s room. The new clothes she bought me fall out along with my notebook and pencil.

  “Need to see what you’re packing.” Her voice is tight like dried dung, never a pretty color.

  She’s been pinching glimpses my way since she caught me hiding Josephine. She’s wary around me as if I’m a fox in her chicken coop.

  And she might suspect I saw her secret articles in the desk drawer. I thought I tucked them back into place just right, but she did ask me if I’d been near her desk.

  I crossed my fingers behind my back and lied by shaking my head.

  And I wouldn’t have thought much of her just checking out my packings, except earlier I o
verheard her talking to herself like she always does. “She grew troublesome, William. The St. Louis Home for Wayward Girls took her off our hands.”

  Thing is, Mr. William isn’t there while she’s talking. He’s not home yet. Sounded like she’s practicing up for a talk later down the road. Like when she returns without me. She doesn’t know it yet, but Miss Jojo and I have other plans for the train stop in St. Louis. There, Miss Jojo can leave the train to find Miss Burns’s sweetheart, the lawyer, and tell him her awful story about having her baby taken away and her baby-prevention surgery.

  Miss Ardith picks up my notebook and pencil. Opens the pages and runs her finger down the jagged seam where pages are missing.

  “I’ll just take these. No need to write your answers anymore. Josephine does enough talking for both of us.”

  I keep my eyes steady on her face, smile and nod.

  Thank goodness I mailed the two letters off yesterday to Miss Burns. One letter is about Sissy Belle Strunk and Miss Lily’s Threads & Things, and the other detailed the babies dying at the horrible Beck Infantorium. That was a lot, now that I think about it. Everybody out here in the world is keeping secrets, staying silent when they all have perfectly good voices.

  Don’t know if anything’ll happen, but I felt relieved in the telling. I’m a sinner, I know. I took money from Mrs. Holcombe, ran from the law, stole envelopes and stamps, and I’ve lied. I’ll take my punishment for those things when my time comes. But I’ve never done the pure evil the likes of Miss Ardith’s doings.

  Mr. William will be gone all night, but I don’t think it’s for a men’s meeting. A November chill flowed off him when he left earlier.

  Before she took my notebook, I wrote out a few words asking to stay behind to help with Oliver. Sure don’t want to be locked in no girls’ home in far-off Missouri.

  “Silly Willow.” Her voice was the same color as a two-day-old bruise. Mottled blue with strange yellow hues. “You are indebted to me. Of course you’re coming along.”