Good Fortune (9781416998631) (44 page)

CHAPTER
 
40 

F
EBRUARY SPRANG UPON US AND BROUGHT A NEW WAVE OF
learning that had me up late into the night, working on a new assignment Mrs. Rosa had placed in my hands. I never complained: There was no reason to. I loved it. I was now feeding the yearning I had grown to accept as a slave, and I was never too full. By now, Mrs. Rosa no longer needed to keep me after the group classes, but usually I stayed anyway, burying my face in a book that I chose from one of the bookshelves. I could read anything if I wanted to, and Mrs. Rosa heard my thanks daily.

The lessons were my refuge, my escape, when I felt fearful or angry or saddened, and those emotions could sneak up on me at any time. I didn't understand the bond I felt between John and me. His absence only made me love him more.

Amid all of this, Mrs. Rosa was very proud of my progress, of how much my reading and writing had improved. Anita hadn't changed. She stayed quiet and was involved only to the extent she had to be. Peggy and I got along very well. I had never thought it would be possible for me to talk and interact with any white person as an equal, but I found myself doing this all the time with her.

Usually, at the end of the day, Mrs. Rosa walked Peggy a short distance up the road, where they'd meet her mother, so Peggy wouldn't have to walk home alone. On one occasion, Mrs. Rosa asked me to walk with them. We headed outdoors, and Peggy waved around a picture she had drawn in the two hours Mrs. Rosa had given her to complete it. We chatted about our day as we walked along.

“Anna, you didn't miss a single word Mrs. Rosa asked you to write down today—not one! You're getting really good at everything—maybe even better than me!”

“Well, I thank you, Peggy. But I couldn't do a lot of it without your help.” She smiled, then, spotting her mother in the distance, took off running toward her.

When Mrs. Rosa and I approached the woman, she hugged Mrs. Rosa close and they exchanged warm words, like sisters would do. She then turned her smile to me, and I saw that she had dimpled cheeks, just as her daughter did. Her hair, pinned up into a bun on the top of her head, was brown, though, not red like Peggy's. We shook hands and she nodded cordially.

“Peggy tells me you're the new student. She says you learn quicker than anyone she's ever seen.” I glanced at Mrs. Rosa, then back into the woman's friendly eyes.

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“Sure. Maybe one day you'll be helpin' others, too, like Mrs. Rosa does.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Well … well, that would be nice, I suppose.” After we parted, the woman's words trailed behind me.

As February rolled along Daniel was becoming more and more involved with secret plans and community projects that took him from Hadson for as long as three days in a row. More worrisome, however, were Daniel's ideas about Mary's predicament. I still feared that he would pack up his belongings and return to the South without alerting me, simply to avoid the pain of telling me good-bye. He fell into heavy moods, sometimes, moods that took some getting used to for Florence, and lately, even I could not figure out what was in my brother's heart.

I shared my dread with Florence, leaving out the many details that made the situation as alarming as it was. She fell into an anxious state, regardless, and decided to approach Daniel about it all. I let her speak; I had learned when I was much younger that Daniel would share only what he wanted to share when it came to personal matters.

“Sebastian, what've you been up to? What have you been planning? We're concerned … concerned about you.”

Daniel had stopped by briefly to visit with us, when Florence began to question him. He turned to me, but, seeing my piercing look, he turned back to Florence.

“It's my work,” he said simply, intending to leave his explanation at that.

“Sebastian, you're not … leaving us, are you?” Her voice shook.

“No!” he said all too quickly. “Wouldn't leave a pretty
lady like you, an' my sista here …” He shook off his distant, gloomy demeanor, brought his hand over my own, and dared to look me in the eyes again.

“Anna, you know, I b'lieve I'm safest when I'm in your good graces, an' when you ain't worryin' so much 'bout me.”

“Sebastian—”

He waved us off. “Gotta go! Y'all keep watchin' out fo' Mama Bessie, hear?”

My heart nearly stopped: His words sounded like a farewell of some sort. Florence, however, seemed content with his words, and returned to the house, chatting about something else. I barely heard her; instead, I watched my brother walk away from Mama Bessie's. His every stride seemed to sprinkle a little bit of emptiness into my soul.
But he said it's for his work!
I attempted to assure myself of this, but his leave-taking sat heavily in my chest.

Sleep was a mere thought, a dream in itself that night. I lay awake, clutching my covers, the feeling of lonesomeness eating at my gut. The darkness burned my eyes, which wouldn't close. They were frozen open from the cold feeling traveling through my body.

It had been a few hours that I lay like this, unmoving, when I heard a soft tapping on the door. Florence stirred almost immediately. I stayed put as the tapping continued. She rose like a corpse coming to life to answer it. She turned the knob, and as the door opened, I heard her gasp softly.

“Sebastian! What you doing here? How you get in?”

“Shh, Flo. My sista 'sleep?”

“Seems like it to me, but … Sebastian, why you here?”
she asked again, her voice sounding more amused than concerned. I heard him step into the room and walk over to where I lay. I shut my eyes before he got too close.

“She sleepin', I told you!” Florence whispered. I heard a long sigh escape his lips before he turned back to her.

Florence questioned him again. “What is it you need, Sebastain? It's real early, an' it's good to see you an' all, but you really ain't s'pose …”

“Flo, I'm leaving,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“Jus' fo' a little while, not long. Be back in no time!”

“Sebastian, you—”

He interrupted her. “I promise, Flo. I'll be back.” It might just as well have been John's voice making that promise.

“What for, Sebastian? You can't keep doing things without telling me what they are.”

“I'm needed, Flo, that's all. It's just some business that's gotta be taken care of.”

“That's it?”

“Yes.”

“Why you ain't wake Anna to tell her?”

I didn't have to wonder why. My brother hated good-byes. He had already parted from me in his own way.

“She'll just try an' talk me down 'bout it, an' I don't want her to do that. Fact is, she's right half the time, but this … this jus' somethin' that needs to be done.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop a couple of degrees. I was freezing.

“How long you gonna be gone?” Silence. “Sebastian, how long?”

“Don't know.” I listened to my breath in the silence that followed and wondered what in the world was stopping me from jumping up and talking my brother out of going.

'Cause you know him, Anna. You know him a little too well.

“You don't know? Sebastian, how could you not know how long you gonna be …”

“Come with me, will you?” Daniel asked her.

“What? You want me to leave my work an' all?”

“No, Flo, come with me now, jus' till the rays of dawn break through the sky.”

“Sebastian, I don't know if …” Her voice trailed off, and within the confines of a minute, I heard her shuffle out of the room, and the door shut.

But I couldn't let him go like that. I lifted myself from the bed, ready to dart toward the door and scream after him, but before I could move any farther, the door creaked back open. Daniel poked his head around. He must have known that I was awake. He felt it.

“Daniel, Daniel, please don't go,” I whispered to him, my lips trembling, but he cut into my words.

“Anna, I'll be back.” He said it with such finality that it felt as if he had shut my lips tight with his fingers. He stood a minute longer, embracing me with his eyes.

“Wouldn't lie to you, Anna. B'lieve me, I'll be back.” With that, he stepped back out of the door and shut it, leaving me in scowling silence.

Mary was gone. John wasn't here. Now my brother had left me too.

I didn't sleep; I couldn't, even when daylight showed its face. Florence returned, the mixed emotions of contentment and sadness playing their own roles on her face.

This was going to be harder than I thought.

The morning flew past in a frenzy. I lay asleep, claiming sickness, not quite ready to walk out into the suffocating smiles and laughter of Mama Bessie's household.

Nighttime slipped back upon us; the entire day seemed lost in the stroke of an hour. Florence was back at my bedside.

“Anna, I spoke to Sebastian this morning.”

Silence.

“Said he'd be gone for a while, but he'll be back before you blink!” I knew Florence well enough to know that she was covering her sadness with forced cheerfulness.

“Why he leave?” I asked, playing the part I had to assume.

“Work.”

“There a reason he didn't tell me himself?” A routine question.

“Well, no, not really. I was up, an' … an', well, he said don't go about thinkin' he ain't as smart as you. Said to trust him like he trusts you; he knows what he's doing.”

I coughed, but Florence didn't budge. I coughed again.

“Hey, Anna, you don't sound too good. Hope you're up tomorrow, though. I don't have to go to the shop, an' I miss my help in the house!” Then she was gone.

I wasn't up the next day or the next. Mama Bessie came up often with food and loving words of comfort. She, alone, seemed to understand that the chains that bound me to my bed were not those of sickness, but rather lack of spirit. She explained to me that word was sent to Mrs. Rosa concerning my condition.

It was the fourth day that I solemnly returned to the world about me. I was in this place called Freedom. I had things to do, a community I was part of, and an education I had to continue with. A week passed, and it was then that I saw Florence's real feelings, beneath her smiles and her claims that Daniel would be back soon.

I woke up early one morning, before the day's chores began, and found Florence leaning against the window, shoulders drooped, and her chin resting in her hand.

“Flo?” I called softly, pulling myself up. She said nothing. “Flo? You all right?”

“I ain't a fool, Anna. I know that kind of travel, for whatever work he's doin', is dangerous,” she said, still gazing out the window. I sat silent, letting her roam around in her own mind.

“He told me when he comes back, he don't wanna see no evidence of me cryin' an' carryin' on. Said smile for him when he's away, an' maybe the wind'll carry him back quicker.” I felt a pang of sadness. I felt myself clinging to Florence's words, knowing I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it. My eyes welled up.