One Day She'll Darken

by Fauna Hodel

  Chris, his face sweating, turned to Sister Teresa in a panic and said, “My wife didn’t mean what she said; she’s just very upset. You see, Sister Teresa, we were told that this was supposed to be a mixed baby, and . . .”

  “This is a mixed baby,” interrupted the nun. “The mother’s name is Tamar Nais Hodel and the father is Negro. It says so on the birth certificate and the mother attested as to who the father is and his race. There is no mix-up!”

  “That baby sure don’t look like it has no Negro blood to me,” said Jimmie, “and I don’t want nothin’ to do with it. How I’m gonna explain a damn white baby to my family? To my friends—to anybody?”

  She stomped out of the room, gibbering about all the trouble she was in, and tossing her arms about like a disjointed puppet.

  “Blessie, wait a minute,” snarled Chris, starting after her. But he hesitated as he quickly realized that Sister Teresa tried to compose herself while simultaneously rocking the baby in an attempt to abate the infant’s howling.

  “Blessie, wait a minute!” he shouted. Then, to Sister Teresa, he said nervously, “I’ll talk with my wife when she calms down and gets over the shock. She’s very upset, but I’ll make her understand. Don’t worry, everything will be all right.”

  “Well, if you do, Reverend Greenwade, and right now it looks quite doubtful, and you still want to adopt this baby, then it will be necessary for both of you to go to the office of Cyrus Waters. He’s the attorney who is handling all the legal documents. He’ll explain to you what papers must be signed. And, Reverend Greenwade, let me remind you that you cannot go through with this adoption without proving your worth, not only financially, but also emotionally.

  “You can pick up the baby when all of the documents are returned to us at the Administrator’s Office,” she said.

  “Thank you, Sister Teresa, thank you very much. I appreciate what you’ve done.” Chris hurried away.

  “Oh, Reverend Greenwade, good luck with your wife. I think you’re going to need it!”

  CHAPTER 3

  Chris met up with Jimmie near where they had parked the car. As he fumbled with the keys, his anger became evident. “I thought I told you to let me do all the talking.”

  With a hateful look, she glared at him. They endured the short drive back to the hotel in silence. Chris entered the hotel room and plopped his tired body into a stuffed chair at the far corner of the room. He stretched back, crossed his legs, folded his hands and stared at the ceiling. He was confused. He tried to sort out the calamitous events that had just occurred. In the quiet of his mind he prayed for guidance, going over the sacred Scriptures, hoping for an answer to resolve this awkward predicament.

  As the late afternoon passed into early evening, Jimmie spent time soaking herself in the bathtub and fussing with her hair, allowing Chris to relax and compose himself.

  The sign from God that he had been waiting for was far different from the one that called him to the ministry years earlier. At that time he felt that he had been “touched” by God, to help spread the Word of Jesus Christ. As with other Pentecostal ministers, his spiritual revelation came directly from God, who outlined his mission here on earth.

  Chris had an unshakable belief in the Gospel and the teachings of Jesus Christ. Chris felt that, through him, God wanted to create a sense of “family” among the people of the earth. His moral responsibility as a minister was to unite the people of this planet and to bring them out of bondage. He believed that his noble race was not meant to be the mere slaves of white people, but their brothers and sisters. Now here was this white-looking child—a true test of his faith and moral beliefs.

  If indeed faith could move mountains, as Chris believed, then it should be a simple task to help rid the world of a prejudice that was well understood. It was time to take a stand, time to put the core of his sermons—“We are one from One”—into practical use. Gladly he accepted this subtle sign from God that was innocently thrust upon him—a sign that would test his faith, a sign that was too powerful to ignore. This little, innocent “angel from God” would be part of their family. After all, this was not a white child; this was a human child—a child from God.

  What better way to begin to break down the color barrier separating the races than to start with his Blessie, who had been prejudiced all of her life. If he could begin with her and show her the light, just think what a testimonial he would have for the rest of the world!

  Chris rose from the chair with a renewed sense of purpose. His eyes penetrated Jimmie as if he could see through to her soul.

  He found her lying on the bed. She looked worn out from the long trip, the scene at the hospital, and her drinking. He knew that she was unprepared for the little sermon he was about to unleash. Chris, in a deep and powerful tone, let the words flow anyway.

  “Blessie, I know you are right; this little baby could very well be a lot of trouble. But I didn’t see her that way. When I first laid my eyes on her, all I could see was the glow of an angel from heaven. I didn’t think of her as being a white baby, although I admit, she is lighter than most mixed children; I thought of her as being our baby. God has finally given us a child after being barren for so many years.

  “Now I know it’s gonna be difficult to raise a white-looking baby—at least initially, anyway. But you know as well as I do that most little Negro babies are born lighter, and darken as they grow older; one day this baby, too, will darken. After all, it is a mixed baby; the father is Negro. The baby just looks white, prematurely white.” He stepped back and slowly walked toward the window. Jimmie’s eyes followed him as he turned and continued, “The road ahead is going to be tough on both of us, but that’s only temporary. Even if the baby doesn’t darken as much as we expect, we still know that it’s a mulatto; and there aren’t any laws against it, either. Still today there are some states that have laws on the books prohibiting Negroes and whites from marrying each other. Having a white looking baby in our midst could very well open up the doors of hell, but if it’s God’s will, then we should educate the ignorant. I don’t know what lies ahead for us, but we are in it together, and I’m putting my faith in God. For it is His will that provided us with this opportunity, an opportunity similar to the one He provided the Pharaoh’s daughter in Exodus, chapter two. Here, let me read it to you.”

  Chris noticed Jimmie sit up on the bed. He knew she was paying attention. He could sense her excitement, and that encouraged him. Chris reached for his Bible, quickly flipped through the thin pages and began to recite.

  “‘And there went a man of the house of Levi. And the woman conceived, and bore a son; and when she saw him that he was a goodly child, she hid him three months. And when she could not longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein; and she laid it in the flags by the river’s brink.

  “‘And his sister stood afar off, to wit what would be done to him. And the daughter of Pharaoh came down to wash herself at the river; and her maidens walked along by the river’s side; and when she saw the ark among the flags, she sent her maid to fetch it. And when she opened it, she saw the child; and, behold, the babe wept. And she had compassion on him and said, This is one of the Hebrews’ children. ‘Then said his sister to Pharaoh’s daughter, Shall I go and Call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for thee?

  “‘And the Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, Go. And the maid went and called the child’s mother. And the Pharaoh’s daughter said unto her, Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages. And the woman took the child, and nursed it.

  ‘And the child grew, and she brought him unto Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son. And she called his name Moses; and she said, Because I drew him out of the water’.”

  Chris closed his well-worn book and continued in his own words, “Just as the Pharaoh’s daughter was chosen by God to save Moses from sure death, so, too, are we chosen to save
this little baby, but not from her death at the hands of the Pharaoh, but from an emotional death just as sure as a death from not being loved and nourished. The love that we give her will show the world that we are all children of God and we can live in harmony. We were chosen to let our brothers and sisters know that we can all be free from the bondage that plagues our people—the bondage of white hypocrisy and slavery.

  “Now listen,” he said, again opening the book. He began to read from the same book of Exodus.

  “‘God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I. And he said, Draw not night hither; put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. Moreover he said, I am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. And Moses hid his face; for he was afraid to look upon God.

  ‘And the Lord said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their cries by reason of their taskmasters; for I know their sorrow; and I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land flowing with milk and honey; unto the place of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites.

  ‘Now therefore, behold, the cry of the children of Israel is come unto me; and I have also seen the oppression wherewith the Egyptians oppress them.

  ‘Come now therefore, and I will send these unto Pharaoh, that thou mayest bring forth my people the children of Israel out of Egypt.

  ‘And Moses said unto God, Who am I, that I should bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt? And he said, Certainly I will be with thee; and this shall be a token unto thee, that I have sent thee: When thou hast brought forth the people out of Egypt, ye shall serve God upon this mountain.’”

  “And so as God is with Moses as he is chosen to deliver his people from the Egyptians, so too is God with us to raise this little white-looking baby and deliver our people from the ‘reason of our taskmaster’. She is a sign from God, and His will must be done!”

  Although Jimmie had listened to the story of Moses many times before, she had never heard anyone interpret it quite like Chris, nor was she going to let him get away with it that easily.

  “What’s ya tryin’ to tell me? That I’m the Pharaoh’s daughter and that little pinky-skinned white-patty is Moses? Huh? You silly ass fool. I don’t wanna be the one to blow out your candle, but it seems like you got nothin’ but space between your ears! Don’t you let no one else hear ya talk like that. Huh! They’ll lock your black ass up!”

  “Now wait a minute, Blessie, I’m serious!”

  “I knows you is serious, that’s the problem.”

  Chris looked at his wife sitting on the bed unconvinced. Quickly, he picked up his Bible and flipped through the pages trying to find another approach. “Here. Here, listen to this.

  “‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned; but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he had not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God’”.

  Chris laid down his book and sat opposite Jimmie on the bed. He began to speak with a sincerity and softness as a father would speak to his daughter. “Listen, God did not send his only Son to a hell on earth to save just a single race of people, but to save all the people of the world. After all, Jesus was color-blind.”

  Jimmie’s eyes rolled in disbelief.

  “He never knew who was white or black or yellow. We’re all God’s children and we must all live together on this planet. We’re not categorized by the color of our skin. And just as Jesus was color-blind, so, too, is love. Our love for each other, for our brothers and sisters, and now for this baby is also color-blind. The only reason we see different color is because of a self-inflicted disease we call racism.”

  Jimmie Lee still wasn’t convinced, but Chris could see in her eyes that she was trying. He still hadn’t pushed the right buttons, nor was he about to give up.

  “Maybe you’ll understand it this way,” he continued. “Many people, especially in this day and age, have contracted this contagious disease, this prejudice. You saw what this just did to Europe, didn’t you? Hitler cultivated this dormant virus that lay within thousands of people and spread the dreaded disease throughout the continent of Europe, eventually setting the whole world on fire. Through this little baby, we have the opportunity and the support of God Almighty to show the world that this disease need never plague the world again!”

  Chris continued, alternating his reading of Scriptures with a soft, gentle tone and a powerful, vibrating voice, thundering to a crescendo when so inspired by a particular parable sympathetic to his argument. He was tireless, almost driven. His preaching went on for almost four hours before Jimmie, sober, exhausted, and sexually aroused, could no longer absorb any more of Chris’ incessant pounding and preaching.

  Finally, she gave in, agreeing to accept this new baby into their lives if only Chris would just shut up, and get to bed. He did, and they spent a most memorable night together in each other’s arms.

  The following morning they were both awake very early. There was a renewed spirit between them. For the first time in many years they were both in agreement and equally determined to pursue their united goal of raising this new found “joy” in their lives. Each, however, had very different reasons.

  After breakfast, Chris phoned the attorney as instructed by Sister Teresa. He was surprised when the secretary informed him that he could come in right away, but instead of doing so, he decided to make the appointment for eleven o’clock, which would give him enough time to do some necessary shopping and plan the mechanics of taking on a newborn baby girl.

  When Chris got off the phone, Jimmie sat down next to him on the bed and placed her hand on his leg very gently and said, “Daddy, I know that this baby means a lot to you. It means as much to me, too! You’re probably gonna need to take some time away from the church and spend it with us, cause a daughter takes a lot a work from both parents.”

  “I know that, Blessie,” he replied. “This also means that you’ll have to quit your job at the casino.”

  “What? Quit my job? What for? I was thinkin’ to let Rosie watch the baby while I was working.”

  “Rosie, your sister-in-law, Rosie? You can’t let someone else watch a brand new baby. What’s the matter with you?”

  Jimmie jumped from the bed and put her hands up to her cheek as if a bolt of lightning had struck. “Rosie! Oh Shit! In all the excitement, I ain’t never told anyone. They sure as hell gonna be surprised when I tell them we’re gonna have us a baby!”

  They glimpsed at each other and ruptured into laughter until they were out of breath with tears blurring their vision. It was the first time in a very intense twenty-four hours that they realized the irony of their situation. After ten minutes they felt relieved and calmed down, Jimmie picked up the telephone receiver and asked for the long distance operator. “I’m sure she’ll be home at this time of the day,” she said to Chris.

  He sat up and watched Jimmie. She was on stage now, trying to act calm and sophisticated. A transformation was taking place. Chris put his head in his hands trying not to giggle, only imagining Rosie’s reaction.

  “Hello, Rosie?” Jimmie chuckled loudly and held her hand over the mouthpiece.

  “Who is this? Is that you, Jimmie?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “Are you drunk again?” Rosie asked.

  “No, I’m sober as a . . . a nun! A nun!” She could barely talk.

  “Well, then what you giggling at?”

  “We’re gonna have us a baby. A little girl.”

  “You gonna have a what? Now I know you’re drunk. When all this happen?�
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  “Just yesterday.”

  “Yesterday! A girl! Don’t you dally wit’ me, Sistah, I ain’t got no time for your foolishness. Every time you get drinking too much of that poison, you start running off at the mouth about some half-witted thing or another. Now where you at, and what you want?”

  “No Rosie, damn it. It’s true. We’re in San Francisco, and we’re gonna adopt a newborn baby—a girl!”

  “San Francisco? Is Chris with you?” Rosie asked.

  “Yeah, right here,” Jimmie said.

  “Let me talk to him.”

  Jimmie began chuckling again and handed the phone to Chris. “Rosie don’t believe me. You tell her.”

  “Hello, Rosie? This is Chris. Now listen. You are the first to know. It’s all true. We’re in San Francisco to adopt a little mixed baby. A girl.”

  “Have you been drinkin’ too? How’d all this happen?”

  “It’s a long story. No time to explain,” he said.

  “Before you do something you gonna regret, you better tell me what this is all about!” said Rosie.

  “Okay, okay, but briefly. Some woman stopped in the ladies’ lounge a few months ago and asked Jimmie if she’d adopt a little baby. Jimmie said yes and that’s that.”

  “That’s that? That’s what?” Rosie asked.

  “It’s God’s will, Rosie. We’re going to pick her up at the hospital this afternoon and we should be back in Reno about eight tonight. It’s a long story. I’ll explain it when I see you tonight.”

  Chris hung up the phone, turned to Jimmie and said, “You’re right, she don’t believe you.”

  Chris and Jimmie checked out of the hotel and drove to the downtown shopping area in search of clothing and other paraphernalia for the infant. They picked out the best baby carriage and loaded the new Cadillac with baby clothes, toys, dolls, bottles, diapers, and rattles. When the shopping spree ended the next stop was to sign the adoption papers at the attorney’s office.They arrived at the address fifteen minutes ahead of the scheduled appointment. Without waiting, the secretary ushered Jimmie and Chris into an inner office where a stocky, rosy-cheeked man of about sixty sat with his feet up on the radiator, and the phone to his ear. They seated themselves on the hard oak chairs in front of an old desk strewn with papers, books, files, and the like. The room was in disarray. Chris couldn’t help but notice a large Confederate flag trimmed in gold fringe, pinned against one wall. There were stained black-framed photographs on another wall of Mr. Waters, perhaps in his younger days, shaking hands with what appeared to be a few not-so-memorable politicians. Chris recognized only one character among the half-dozen pictures. It was larger than the rest and displayed proudly in the center of the others—a black and white etching of General Robert E. Lee in full dress uniform.