“Told her not to. You’ve got a party line and word could’ve gotten out.” Stacey hesitated. “I hate to tell you this, but I think Moe might be out to get whoever caused Morris’s death.”
Levis took that with a moment’s silence. “Wouldn’t doubt it. He been in touch with anybody since he left? Little Willie, maybe?”
“Not far as we know, and Little Willie hasn’t heard from him. He had a few hours on us, and soon as we got here, we went to see Willie. If Moe would get in touch with anybody down here outside of your family, it would be Little Willie.”
Levis looked back at us and nodded. “The boy’s lyin’ low. Good thing too.”
“He’ll show up,” I said. “Unless the police get him first, he’ll show up by the funeral.”
“Hope not,” said Levis, then turned and gazed across the road toward the forest. “Look yonder.”
Stacey and I both looked. Standing just inside the forest was a group of white men.
“There’s been some of them watching since this morning. Ain’t told Daddy. Couple of them come up to the house and said man could’ve been Moe was seen walking the woods up near Strawberry. Wanted to check the place. Moe come here, they’ll have him in jail or dead before we even lay Morris in the ground.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
I called Guy and told him about Morris. For a moment, there was only silence on the line, then Guy said, “I’m coming down.”
“No. Please don’t do that. There are other things going on and your being here will just complicate matters.”
“You mean about Medgar Evers?”
“Well, that’s not all of it.”
“Cassie, I want to be there.”
“I know that, Guy, and that means a lot to me. But Papa’s ill and other things are happening too and it wouldn’t be a good time for any of us for you to be down here.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your father, Cassie. Is he very ill?”
“The doctors say he has a blood disease. . . .”
“Oh, Cassie—”
“He looks good though. All my brothers are here; so is my uncle. Papa’s not in the hospital. He’s at home, but things are hard right now, what with what happened with Morris. We’re all trying to deal with it.”
Again Guy was silent. “All right, Cassie,” he finally said. “I’ll abide by your wishes, but know I’ll be thinking about all of you. Call me if I can do anything.”
When we hung up, I walked the forest, trying to clear my head of thoughts of Guy and thoughts of Moe. I had told Guy about Papa, but I had not told him about Moe. I couldn’t risk it, not on a party line. If things were different, Guy would have been with me through the days ahead, and I longed for him to be.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
We all went to the wake. In earlier days, folks who passed were laid out for mourning in their homes and people went there to pay their respects. Now the dead were sent to a Negro funeral home in Jackson or Vicksburg and were brought back to the church for the wake the evening before the burial. Morris’s body was brought during the late afternoon, and folks began arriving soon after to say their good-byes. Throughout the afternoon and early evening, white men watched the church from their cars and trucks parked on the side of the road. Like the old building, the new church faced toward the old school grounds and not the road itself, so the white men were able to see both the front and rear of the church. They were there when our family arrived; we just looked at them and went on in.
At first the casket in which Morris lay was open, and there was great emotion as people approached the casket to look upon him. I didn’t go to the casket. I never looked upon the dead. Throughout the first hours of the wake, folks talked softly, reminiscing about Morris and comforting the family, then we all sat through words and prayer by the pastor. After the prayer services the casket was closed and Moe’s father, in a wheelchair, was taken out by two of his granddaughters. With his departure, many of the wake-goers left too. We had come over to the church in Stacey’s Oldsmobile and Christopher-John’s Ford. Uncle Hammer took the Ford and drove back home with Mama, Papa, and Big Ma. The boys and I stayed on with members of the Turner family who did not leave with Mr. Turner. After a while, the church emptied and only we were left to sit with Levis and Maynard and the four Turner cousins raised by Mr. Turner and called brothers by all of Mr. Turner’s children. They would stay in the church throughout the night to watch over Morris until the services tomorrow. Now the lights in the church were dimmed and the shades were drawn. Outside, the night was black, clouds covered the moon, and only one truck remained on the road.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
Finally, it was near midnight, and I said to Stacey, “We need to go.”
Christopher-John stood and stretched. “It’s late, Stacey. Folks’ll be getting worried.”
Stacey looked around the darkened church. “Just a while longer,” he said.
I looked around too. Levis and Maynard were seated on the front pew, right in front of the coffin. The other brothers had found pews near the back of the church and were lying down. “You think he’s coming, don’t you?”
“If he’s coming,” Man said in a low voice, “it’ll be tonight. Only chance to say good-bye to Morris.”
Stacey got up without answering me and went to the front pew and spoke to Levis. Then the two of them walked past the pulpit and left the sanctuary through the rear door. They were gone some time before Stacey returned alone. “Where’d you go?” I asked as he sat back down.
“To find Moe” was all he said.
Christopher-John, Man, and I just looked at him. Then the rear door opened again and a man came in.
It was Moe.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
He had made his way as far as Jackson driving Dwayne’s car. Once in Jackson, he went to the family of a man who had worked at the plant with him in Detroit, and the man’s father had driven him as far as the outskirts of Strawberry. Moe had walked the woods to Great Faith, arriving late in the night. He had been hiding in the church crawl space ever since. It was a crawl space not shown on any of the plans submitted to the county and that was for a reason. It was meant to be a place for secret shelter. When the church was rebuilt after the fire, Papa and some of the other men had insisted on such a space, and Stacey and Levis and Morris, among others, had carved it out of the ground. Both Stacey and Levis had shared information about the space with Moe, and they figured if Moe was in hiding, that was where he would be. He was.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
When Moe entered the sanctuary, he just stood by the door for several moments, his hat in his hands, then, slowly, he approached the casket. Levis came behind him. Maynard stood up, watching Moe, but did not go to him. Moe reached the coffin, stood there a moment, his head bowed, and gingerly placed one hand flat on top of the coffin. Then he fell to his knees, leaned his head against the side of the coffin, and cried.
His sobs echoed through the church. The brothers lying in the back pews sat up. Levis and Maynard just stood respectfully by, their heads lowered too. The other brothers came slowly up the aisle to the front and stood with Levis and Maynard, gazing upon their eldest brother as he wept for their youngest. They did not go to comfort him. They waited for Moe to be ready. Finally, there was an audible gasp from Moe as his sobbing ceased. Slowly, he raised himself from his knees and stood, still facing the coffin. Then he turned, and all his brothers rushed to him. The boys and I waited as the brothers reunited before we went to join them. I hugged Moe, kissed his cheek, then, holding tight on to his arm, I said, “You’re all right. You’re all right.”
Moe’s smile was faint. “Yeah, Cassie, I’m all right.”
“You know you can’t stay long,” said Stacey. “Those men are still outside.”
“But th
e doors are locked,” Levis told Moe. “I don’t think they’ll try coming in. Far as they know, you didn’t come into the church. Pastor said the sheriff’s deputy was here early yesterday morning and walked all through the church, and they’ve been watching the front and back all the day since. There’s time to sit a spell.”
Moe shook his head. “I need to get home and see Daddy.”
“How are you going to get over there?” I asked. I glanced at Levis. “You going to take him?”
“Levis, you can’t leave,” objected Stacey. “Those men’ll be expecting all of you to stay in here with Morris. I can take him over.”
I questioned that. “And how you plan to do that? The car’s out front, church lights on. How’s Moe supposed to get to the car without being seen? Can’t hardly turn the church lights off after all this time. They’d get suspicious.”
“Not only that,” said Christopher-John, “they’ve probably got men over that way watching Levis’s house. You drive that road, they’ll see you coming.”
“No need for anybody to drive me anywhere,” said Moe. “I’ll walk the woods.”
“I’ll walk with you then,” said Levis.
I put another question to Moe. “And how you plan to get back to Jackson? You going to walk there too? What if somebody recognizes you?”
“I’m not worried about that. It’s been more than twenty years since I’ve been home. I don’t figure most folks to recognize me.”
“Someone maybe already has,” submitted Levis.
Moe ignored that. “Well, anyway, I’ve got it planned how to get around.”
“What else do you have planned?” I asked. “If you’re planning to go after somebody about Morris, don’t do it, Moe. Don’t do it!”
Moe just looked at me. Stacey glanced from me to Moe. “Cassie, let it be. I’ve already talked to Moe about all this, that it could have been any of these white people caused Morris’s death. Levis, Maynard, you talk sense to him. Moe, when you’re ready to go to Jackson, we’ll take you.”
“No,” said Moe.
“Moe, you can’t walk all the way back to Jackson. Your brothers will take you or we will.”
“I said no! None of you are taking me anywhere. You’ve done enough, Stacey. All of you have, and I don’t want any of you facing any more trouble because of me. I got down here on my own and I’ll get back on my own.”
Moe was adamant. He wasn’t changing his mind.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
It was decided. Moe and Levis would leave by the rear door. The lights were off at the rear of the church, and all lights in the hallway leading to that back door were off. Outside, there were decorative bushes on either side of the door that would give them some cover. From the hallway they would belly-crawl the steps and across the lawn to the woods. Levis said he had done that during the war and figured they could make it to the woods without being seen. We talked for a short while longer, held hands, and prayed. Then Moe asked Levis to lift the lid to the coffin. He wanted to see Morris. I stepped away. The coffin was opened, and for several minutes Moe stood there gazing down at Morris, saying his final good-bye. Moe himself closed the coffin and, turning from it, hugged each of his brothers, Christopher-John, Man, and Stacey. I was the last one he hugged. Then he and Levis left the sanctuary.
As they left, Stacey, Christopher-John, Man, and I went out the front door. We talked softly as we headed for the car, hoping that the men on the road kept their eyes on us as Moe and Levis slipped out the back door. We got into the Oldsmobile and drove off the church grounds. As Stacey turned onto the road, headlights from the truck flooded the car. Stacey kept on driving. The truck did not follow.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
At the funeral the casket for Morris was closed. That at least kept some of the emotions at bay. Still, with death having come the way it had, there was no restraint about what was felt. Women wailed and flailed their arms as they marched past the casket. Morris’s sisters flung their arms over the coffin, as if holding to them Morris himself, and Denise, with her newborn baby in her arms, just dropped to her knees in front of it and sobbed uncontrollably. There was no containing the sorrow or the rage that we all felt.
Outside the church, standing near the old school buildings, a group of white men gathered. Some of the church men went over and asked the group to leave. They didn’t. The county law was among them. Two of the men wore badges, and all of them were waiting for the services to be over and for Moe to make an appearance. One white man was inside the church. That was Mr. Wade Jamison. He sat with us throughout the services and grieved for Morris.
As we emerged from the church, following the coffin borne by the Turner brothers, we all saw clearly who the white men were, and no one was surprised that Statler and Leon Aames and Charlie Simms were among them. The funeral procession walked slowly toward the cemetery that bordered the back side of the church. All of us were acutely aware of the white men watching us. Mr. Turner, looking more frail than ever, was wheeled to the gravesite. Everybody else followed. The white men moved closer. Several of the men spread out and walked along the forest line, peering into the brush.
As the gravesite services began, I looked at Stacey and wondered where Moe was. I knew Stacey was wondering the same as he looked away from the gravesite, into the forest. My gaze followed his. Levis had told us Moe had seen their father and his sisters, and he and Moe had left the house before dawn. He also said he and his father had talked to Moe through the remaining night, trying to persuade him not to go after Statler and Leon. They argued there was no way to know if they were the ones who had caused Morris’s death, and even if they had, causing them harm would not bring Morris back. The last Levis had seen of Moe was in the forest, when they said good-bye. Moe had told him that he wanted to see Morris lowered into his grave, then he would leave. As Stacey and I gazed out to the forest, we both knew Moe was out there, watching from its depths, blending into it, hidden by the density of bushes and grasses and trees. We didn’t see him and we prayed that the white men watching didn’t see him either.
I whispered to Stacey. “You think he’ll be all right?”
Stacey looked from the forest to the coffin, now being lowered into the ground. “He came here to see his daddy and see Morris laid to rest. He’s done both. Now all he’s got to do is get out of Mississippi alive.”
Reverend Hubbard began to pray. I closed my eyes and bowed my head. “Amen” was said, and I opened my eyes and looked again to the forest. There was no sign of Moe. I hoped that my prayer was answered.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
After the funeral, I walked the forest alone. So much had happened in the last few days and I was shaken, but there had been little time to reflect on what it all meant. Morris had put his life on the line. Medgar Evers had put his life on the line. Much had been accomplished to ease us toward first-class citizenship, to assure us equal rights, but there was still much to be done. Despite all of Morris’s efforts, only a few people had been registered to vote. Most of us saw that as discouraging; Morris had seen it as an achievement. He had refused to be beaten by the system. If one Negro could be registered, hundreds more could be registered. Thousands more. Every Negro of qualifying age in the county, every Negro person of age in the state of Mississippi could one day vote, and when that happened it would mean equal rights for all of us. It would change the state. That was Morris’s dream. Little Brother Morris. I thought of Grandpa Paul-Edward and how he had gotten this land. I thought of all the sacrifices Big Ma, Papa, and Mama had made to keep it. I thought of all who had gone before.
I stayed long in the forest, thinking on all that. What Morris had begun remained unfinished. Registration drives were scheduled to resume in other counties. Without Morris, the Spokane County drive could falter. I couldn’t let that happen. I had no reason not to return to Mississippi a
nd continue the fight. My roots were here. My beginning was here. My family would always be tied to this land. I left the forest having made up my mind. I was home now, and I would remain here. I was going to stay in Mississippi.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
“You sure you want to be out here, Papa?” I asked as Papa and I sat alone on the front porch swing early Saturday morning. Papa was still in his pajamas and wore the robe I had given him for Christmas. He had spent much of the last two days in bed, getting dressed only to go to Morris’s funeral. He said he felt all right, just tired. Still, that was so unlike Papa; it scared me. Now, as I sat beside him, I was assured he was all right. Papa was a strong man. Nothing could happen to him.
Papa smiled. “I’m fine, Cassie. Got tired of that bed. Sun feels good.”
“Not too hot yet,” I observed. “Will be soon though.”
“That’s for sure.” I looked at Papa and smiled. Papa took my hand in his, looked across the lawn, glistening emerald under the morning’s dew, and to the forest. I kept my eyes on him. As handsome as ever, Papa looked so good, so well.
“Beautiful, ain’t it?” Papa said, his eyes on the forest, still dark before the full sunlight made its way through the trees standing tall, guarding our land.
“Yes, sir,” I agreed. “Nothing more beautiful.”
Papa laughed and glanced over at me. “Oh, there are a few things I could think of more beautiful and they’re all right here in this house.”
I smiled wide and squeezed his hand. For the moment, I was happy. Then I told Papa I would be staying. I was going to carry on the drive. Papa squinted as he looked at me. “You sure this is what you want to do?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well, then, Cassie . . . I’m proud of you. Always have been. Just give me another reason to be.”
All the Days Past, All the Days to Come Page 42