Flowers in the Snow (11 page)

1965 – Edenville

There were a hundred close calls, but there were thousands of cheerful memories made in Winnie’s kitchen over the next few years. The world seemed to evolve and then backslide, giving hope and then taking it away, but Edenville found some level ground to stand on. At least for a little while. The schools integrated painfully at first, and then, when people on both sides became exhausted, everything quieted.

“It was forty-six days this time,” Alma said, pulling up her calendar. “That’s how long you two’ve been away. I hate that.”

“Sorry,” Simpson apologized with a shrug. “My daddy has a fire under his ass again about something. Don’t know what it is, but something is brewing. We had to lay low for a while.”

Simpson had grown into his long legs, and his shoulders had spread as wide as any grown man in town. Betty and Alma teased him often about the shadow of the beard that crept up on his face every few days. The years had changed them all. Alma’s missing teeth had all grown into a beautiful smile. And her twiggy body had finally blossomed into the curves she always complained about not having. Betty’s hair grew back in with a silky wave and her body caught up with her lanky arms and legs. More shocking than any of nature’s changes was the fact they’d all survived and managed to nurture the seed of friendship they’d planted. It was nothing short of miraculous.

“What do ya think it is?” Nate asked as he stepped over the threshold with an armful of logs. Simpson hopped to his feet and insisted on taking the load from him.

Betty grabbed another biscuit from the table and slathered it with jelly. “I heard they’re planning attacks on the civil rights leaders. But that was just some kids talking big after school. My mama’s kept me on a tight leash. Luckily she was at a planning meeting for the bake sale this afternoon, so I could sneak away. I sure missed these biscuits.”

Winnie cleared her throat and shot Betty a look. She could do that now. In this house there was no distinction between Betty, Simpson, and Alma when it came to Winnie’s stern looks. They were all subject to a thwack to the back of the head if it came to that.

“What? I missed y’all, too,” Betty defended, stuffing another mouthful of biscuit in her mouth. This was sheer heaven. Being away from the love here in this place was torture, but it made the times they were together sweeter. There was nothing like walking into Winnie’s kitchen and smelling her food cooking. By this time Betty knew many of her recipes by heart, though she wouldn’t dare cook them anywhere else. She’d learned a whole lot more than cooking over the years, though. They all had.

“Well it’s good to have you back,” Winnie admitted. “I don’t like it when we have to go so long without seeing each other. Since Simpson graduated and you moved up, I don’t get to see you around school anymore. Anything new to report?”

“I think Simpson has some news.” Betty grinned and nudged him in the ribs as he joined them at the table.

“Shut up, Betty, will ya?” Simpson blurted harshly as his face turned pink.

“Oh it must be good, he’s blushing,” Alma called back as she pointed at his increasingly hot cheeks.

“Margaret Tenner invited him to the Sadie Hawkins dance even though he’s already graduated. She’s telling everyone she’s had a crush on him since last year, and she’s sure she can get him to go.” Betty spoke animatedly as she watched Simpson’s jaw clench tightly.

“A crush since last year,” Alma snipped. “That doesn’t seem like all that long to have a crush.”

Betty bit at her lip, holding back a smile as she realized how long Alma had been daydreaming about Simpson. Almost five years now and somehow they’d all managed not to bring it up and call attention to it, though everyone in the room knew it to be true.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m doing it as a favor for my brother, Stan. He’s in her grade and he wants to go with her friend. The only way that’ll happen is if I go with Margaret. I owe him.”

“Why? What do ya owe him?” Betty asked, a scowl taking over her face. Betty lumped all Simpson’s brothers in the same heap of social manure no matter how many times he tried to convince her otherwise.

“He’s covered for me a bunch. Stan’s not like my other brothers. He’s helped me stay off my father’s radar for a while now. It’s just one dance.” Simpson picked at the splintered wood of the kitchen table and avoided everyone’s stare, especially Alma’s. Betty knew full well where Alma stood on the matter of Simpson, but up until this moment she wasn’t sure how he felt about her. The color of their skin was still a far bigger gap than their age. But the look on Simpson’s face spoke volumes to how little that mattered.

“Any other news?” Winnie asked, sparing them all by changing the subject. “Are you going to this dance, Betty? They’ve assigned me to chaperone, so I’d be able to see you all dressed up. I’d love that.”

“I wouldn’t bother asking anyone. You know no one likes me. I’m still just the idiot girl who doesn’t follow the rules of the world.” Betty shrugged off the statement, but, truthfully, she wondered if she’d be alone forever. She couldn’t think of a single person outside of this house who genuinely cared for her. “My mama sewed a dress for me, but I think even she knows I couldn’t get a date.”

“Any boy would be lucky to go with you,” Nate chimed in with a paternal grunt. “You’ll just have to wait until you’re older to find a boy who’s got some sense in his head.”

“Now that I know you’ll be chaperoning maybe I’ll just go by myself. It’s not like people can tease me anymore than they already do. At least I’d get to see you, Winnie.” Betty thought through the painful scenario of walking into the gymnasium alone. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but nothing outside Winnie’s house ever was.

“Do you even know how to dance?” Alma asked Simpson with a face full of doubtful attitude.

Simpson and Betty looked at each other as though they’d completely forgotten that important part of the equation. “I never went to any of the dances before I graduated,” Simpson explained. “This girl’s not gonna expect me to dance with her, is she?”

“Well what do you think you’re going there for?” Winnie asked with a hearty laugh.

“I’ve got two left feet,” Betty said, sticking her saddle shoes out from under the table.

“Looks like you two need a lesson. As much as I’d like to watch you fumbling around on the dance floor looking like a couple of drunken giraffes, I think it’s my duty to do something. Alma go fetch the radio from the living room.” Winnie gestured for them all to get up as she slid the table against the wall to make more room.

“You’re going to teach us to dance?” Simpson asked, looking like he could think of a hundred things he’d rather do.

“Alma is,” Winnie announced as her daughter walked back into the kitchen.

“I am?” she shot back incredulously.

“You’re a fantastic dancer. Your grandmother taught you, and I know she’d have wanted you to pass that on to someone. Now come on over here, Simpson,” Winnie ordered as she shoved the two of them together. “Your hand goes here, and then the other like this,” she continued, moving them around like a couple of reluctant store mannequins.

Betty started watching to see if Simpson would be able to learn to dance but it was the way he was looking at Alma that kept her attention. As the music started playing Alma yanked him into motion, leading him around the tiny dirt floor.

“You’re too far away from each other I think,” Betty interjected and was met with flaring nostrils and dagger eyes from both her friends.

Winnie laughed. “She’s right. Move in; I don’t think either of you bite.”

“Like this?” Simpson asked Alma as he moved in closer and took the lead. “Am I doing it right?” His eyes came up from watching their feet and locked with hers. Alma smiled warmly at him and nodded as the dance became fluid. Betty imagined just like in the movies the world would melt away around them and they’d only see each other. She wished many nights there could be a way for Alma and Simpson to have a real shot together.

“You’re not bad,” Alma observed after a moment of looking as though words were escaping her. The part Alma couldn’t see, the thing that could only be seen from the outside, was the wide-eyed scared look on Simpson’s face every time Alma looked away. He wasn’t shocked that she danced so beautifully; it looked more like he was stunned by the way it made him feel. There was a glimmer in his eyes, as though he was waking up for the first time in his life and finally seeing vibrant colors.

Betty heard Winnie lean over toward Nate and whisper, “Guess I didn’t think this through enough before doing it.”

Nate chuckled, “Oh please, I’m betting you thought it out exactly like this. You’re the puppetmaster, and we’re all handing you our strings.”

“I think Margaret will be pleased enough,” Alma whispered, looking up at him from under her long lashes.

“Who?” he asked as he stumbled over her foot and nearly pulled them both over. He braced her against his arm. “Sorry.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him as he held her there a long minute before placing her back on her feet.

“Should we keep going?” Simpson asked, opening his arms for her to step back in.

“Yes,” Betty teased, pushing Alma forward again. “I’ll put on the next song.”

“Did ya hear?” Simpson asked as he slammed into Betty out in front of the diner. They hardly ever talked to each other in public so Betty knew it must be important. When she shot a confused look back at him, he grabbed her by the wrist and led her quickly off Main Street. Rounding a corner to a path in the woods, he spoke, his hot breath meeting the freezing cold air and making a cloud around them.

“All hell is breaking loose. They just burned down Don and Meryl Chipman’s house. The Chipmans were working to get the voting laws changed so Blacks wouldn’t have such a hard time registering. Tina Winslow had a cross burned on her lawn last night. Something is going down. I think it’s gonna be bad.” Simpson’s eyes darted over Betty’s shoulder to make sure no one was coming.

Betty nodded her agreement. “My daddy is complaining about the vote day and night now. He was talking about how they had been keeping it at bay by making the requirements completely impossible. He said they were having them jump through so many hoops that most black folks were giving up. But now it’s the cause everyone’s taking up. It’s got my daddy up in arms. Probably the rest of the Klan too. What do you think is gonna happen next?”

“No clue. I’ve got to get to work at the Miller’s farm.” Simpson pulled his winter hat down tighter on his head. “I’ll tell you, though, I’m getting damn tired of doing nothing. I always said I’d wait until I was old enough and then finally speak up. Well I’m a grown man now. It’s high time I take up the cause myself.”

“You’re one guy, Simpson. You can’t change anything. You’ve done a great job staying out of it all. That can be your contribution. Not once have you ever made it worse.” Betty hated to hear Simpson talk this way. It was happening more and more lately, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he got himself caught up in things they’d always tried to avoid.

“You know what they say, just because what you can do is small, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. The only way things are going to change is if guys like me do something. It’s the people not being persecuted who need to stand with the people who are,” Simpson’s voice was growing in strength as he spoke, and Betty gently touched his shoulder, reminding him she didn’t need convincing.

“Who have you been listening to, Simpson? I’m not saying I disagree with you, but I’ve never heard you say these things before. Winnie always tells us to keep our head down and live peacefully.” Betty looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was coming.

“There’s been a bunch of meetings outside of town. I’ve been going and listening to what they have to say. I can be an asset to them. I can help. They want to get folks registered to vote, and I agree with them. This isn’t just a bunch of people all disorganized. I’m talking about ministers from all different kinds of religions, people of all colors. People are standing up, and I want to be one of them.”

“Can I help?” Betty asked. The enthusiasm and conviction in Simpson’s voice was catching. She suddenly felt like a hypocrite for doing nothing day after day. 

“You shouldn’t. Maybe someday when things aren’t so violent, but right now it’s no place for a girl. Finish school. Just hold the right stuff in your heart like you always have.” Simpson patted her shoulder and looked at her empathetically, as though it was quite the curse to be a girl in this world. And he was probably right.

“I know what’s right and what’s wrong. I know the root of all of this is the idea that some lives are worth less than others. If they could see that wasn’t the case, then things would change.”

“Just don’t go to Alma’s. It’s not safe right now. Keep your ears open. They might even cancel the dance,” Simpson added, looking like he was fighting a smile.

“You look happy about that.” Betty grinned.

“I don’t want to go to the dance with Margaret. I told you I’m only going so my brother can get the date he wanted. He’s the one who got me the job at the Miller’s farm, and that’s what’s kept me from having to get mixed up in too much of my daddy’s mess. Mr. Miller knows I want nothing to do with it and, frankly, neither does he. I told him to work me day and night, and he understood what I meant. I’ve got my brother to thank for that, but it doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to dancing with Margaret.”

“You’d rather be dancing with Alma?” Betty asked, feeling like she was standing on hot coals while she waited for his much-anticipated reaction.

“Don’t be dumb,” he scoffed. “Alma is my friend the same way you are.”

“Just the same, huh? Cause it seems like maybe you were worried about how she’d feel about you going to this dance. I saw the look on your face when you two were dancing. You know she’s liked you since we were kids, right?”

“She’s still a kid,” Simpson shot back.

“She’s fifteen, and you’ve just barely turned eighteen. That’s not that much of a difference. My folks are five years apart. Even Nate is four years older than Winnie,” Betty reminded him.

“We can’t even be seen in public just being friends in a town like Edenville, you really think we’d just go to a dance together? It’s not realistic.”

“I didn’t ask if you thought going to the dance with her would be a good idea. She doesn’t even go to our school. I asked if you wished you were going with her instead.”

“You know what Winnie says about wishing. It’s as pointless as brushing your teeth while eating cookies. Wishes don’t get you anywhere.” Simpson folded his arms across his chest as he wielded Winnie’s wisdom like a weapon.

“Simpson,” Betty crowed, perching her hands on her hips, “just answer me. I swear I won’t tell.”

Simpson kicked at a pile of leaves that were crunching beneath his feet. “If things were different, which they aren’t, I’d like to take Alma to a dance. I bet she’d look real pretty in a nice dress with her hair done up. But don’t give me any crap about it. None of it matters anyway.”

“It does matter, Simpson. I’m not telling you it will work out or anything. It sounds like everything’s going to hell in a handbasket again around here. But don’t say it doesn’t matter.”

“You need to go straight home and stay there tonight. The dance is in two days. You’ll see Winnie then. Otherwise, lay low. I think things’ll get worse before they get better.” Simpson pointed a finger at her, knowing how hard it always was for her to stay away.

“Things always seem to just get worse. I’m still waiting for them to get better.” The idea of going back to missing her friends again took any joy Betty was feeling and returned her to reality.

“Don’t get all sad. We’ve done pretty well over the years, and it’s been by using our heads. I know you miss them. I do too,” Simpson said, trying to comfort her.

“It’s different for you,” Betty bit back more angrily than she meant to. “People out here still like you. You have other friends. You have a job and a purpose. When I can’t be at Winnie’s house, it’s like I don’t exist at all. Look at us; we had to come up in the woods just so you could talk to me. I’m nobody.”

“Don’t say that, Betty,” Simpson demanded. “You don’t need a damn person in this town. You’ve got two more years of school, and then you’re free.”

“Free to go where? To do what?” she snapped back, feeling suffocated by her lack of options.

“Anywhere to do anything. You’re not gonna grow old here in Edenville. Maybe the rest of us will but not you. I know it.”

“Alma won’t. You know Winnie and Nate have been socking away their money just waiting for a chance to move somewhere else,” Betty reminded him with an attitude.

“Oh please. They’ve been saying that since we met them, and they’re still here. If they wanted to go, they’d be gone,” Simpson said, shaking his head.

“I think they stayed for us,” Betty admitted quietly as she locked eyes with Simpson. “I think they knew we wouldn’t make it if they left. They could probably be long gone and happy if it weren’t for you and me.

“I never thought of it like that,” Simpson said sullenly.

“I think about it all the time. If anything ever happened to them because of me, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d never forgive myself.” Betty’s nervous energy bubbled up, and Simpson clamped his hand on her shoulder.

“Nothing is gonna happen to them. But that’s all the more reason to go home right now. Things are unsettled; people will be out looking for fights. We can’t give them a reason to pick one with our friends. Winnie will have heard by now too, and she’ll have all of them lying as low as possible too. It’ll work out.”

“You don’t know that,” Betty reminded him.

“I don’t know it, but I believe it.” He was starting to sound more and more like Winnie all the time. “Now I’ll tell you what won’t work out. If you breathe a word to Alma about what I said about the dance, I’ll call you a damn liar and make you muck the stalls at the Miller’s farm until you stink to high heaven.”

“Promise,” Betty assured, crossing her heart with her hand. “I already knew anyway. I just wanted to hear it from you.”

“Of course you did, you’re like a little bratty sister.” Simpson tugged on her hair the way he did when they were younger, and she slapped him away as he continued. “And I’m happy to call you family. I’d be dead in the woods it weren’t for your pushy, nosy mixing in. You’re better than most of my brothers.”

“Is Stan really all that different? When Nicky chopped all my hair off I figured the rest of your brothers were just the same. That’s why I steer clear of them all.”

“Nicky’s getting his ass handed to him in boot camp right now. My other three older brothers are gone now, too. My daddy sent one to my uncle in Morrissey to help on his farm, and the other two are moving up in ranks in the Klan in Mississippi. Once that happened the rest of us could take a breather from it all. Stan’s a lot like me and my other two smaller brothers will be like him, I hope. The less people on this planet like my daddy the better.”

“I hear that,” she agreed and waved goodbye.

Betty and Simpson headed out of the woods in separate directions. Walking home, knowing she’d be stuck there for a couple days, was always the hardest.

She crept up the walk to the side of the house to peer in the window. Her father was angrily banging his hand on the table as Mr. Lopis from town matched his anger with a scowl. “This is bullshit,” her father exclaimed. “We had solid footing here just a few years ago. The damn news media came in and put a few things on television that made us out to be monsters. Everyone put their tails between their legs and forgot what we are here to do. That’s coming to an end. We’re getting back to where we used to be.”

“It’s good to hear you talking like this. People need a fire in their bellies. If more of them start voting, we’ll be overrun before you know it. We’ve got to stop the bleeding by making them bleed.” Mr. Lopis leaned back in his chair and puffed out his chest. “What’s the plan?”

“Havoc. We need to bring hellfire down every opportunity we get. No plan, no rhyme or reason. Wherever the opportunity arises we push back. There are boys coming in from Mississippi this week. We’ve got the numbers now.” Her father’s harsh words made Betty physically ill. She gripped the windowsill and held her breath, trying to figure out what she should do next. Simpson told her to stay home. It was what had worked in the past. But right now she wanted to toss the rules to the side and warn her friends.

Yanking her mittens down tighter to keep out the cold wind, she looked over her shoulder at the woods, leading her back to Alma’s house. What was the point of being a daughter of a Klan member if she couldn’t take what she learned and help people she loved?

Darting back into the woods, she ran as fast as she could to Alma’s house. As the dead leaves crunched below her feet, she imagined she was an Indian princess in woods alive with the spirits of the world. The cold wind was making her feet swift, the tree limbs pointed her way, and the birds sang to cheer her on. The world had become very real around Betty over the years, but she still tried to keep her imagination alive.

However, dreams can be dangerous. They can distract and lull you into a world where you believe you are safer than you are. Luckily Betty woke up from her dream just in time. She heard voices laughing in the distance and dove quickly behind an overturned tree, wedging herself beneath its roots.

The ground was freezing cold, a thick frost crystalizing over it, making an odd type of beautiful. She sat completely still as the voices grew closer. She didn’t know who they were or what they were doing out here, but she knew if they saw her this close to the west side of Edenville she’d be in trouble.

“None of them are gonna know what hit them. They’ll be coming up with a name for this week in the history books when we’re done. Edenville will be famous.” The gravelly voice was joined by the laughter of at least two other boys, and Betty realized how outnumbered she was. Her only hope was to stay still and remain unnoticed until they passed by.

“How many crosses have they made?” another boy asked as the voices drew closer.

“At least ten. They’ve got a list of the biggest troublemakers in town, and they’ll be the first to learn a lesson. If they fight back it’ll be the last thing they do. They think they’ve got the law on their side with all this new crap coming down from the government about letting them vote, but the only law around here that matters is the sheriff’s department, and they’re on our side. There’s a war coming, they just don’t know it yet.”