Good Fortune (9781416998631) (48 page)

“You stubborn, Anna. It's just a dance!” he said again.

“I guess just one dance wouldn't hurt.”

“Great!” Henry said, pulling me up by the arm and leading me to the dance floor.

The two of us took to the floor and moved about until we were out of breath. The jerky twists and turns weren't nearly as exciting and enjoyable as my dance with John. But it lifted my spirits a bit and cleared my mind for a good while. I gratefully took the punch he poured me, and we sat under a tree to rest. Not a word was said while we drank our punch and caught our breath.

“That dance, that was real good, huh?” Henry eventually said. I made a small sound in my throat to indicate my agreement, but this wasn't good enough for Henry. His comments turned into words I had not expected.

“What's wrong with me, Anna? In your eyes, somethin' in me must not be right. I mean, most ladies here wouldn't know what to do if they were with me, but you're different. You're like a stone that stands alone; you're here, but you're somewhere else at the same time. I've been watching you and the way you go about things, and I … well, I kinda like you, Anna. But you don't seem too fond of me. Is it somethin' about me? Tell me.”

I didn't dare look up, because I was too embarrassed and too angry that I was in this situation. Instead, as I stared at the glass of punch in my hand, I thought about what I could say to make my point without upsetting him.

“Henry, you're a fine man. I don't know why you'd ask me if there was something wrong. That's sure not my place to think or say. But it's just that …”

“Just what?”

I looked up at him. His boyish face and manly demeanor caught me off guard. Florence was right: He
was
nice looking.

I reluctantly continued. “I … I guess I like you well enough, Henry.”

His face lit up like a candle. For a moment, I knew I was staring into the face of someone other than Henry. I saw the fire of freedom in his eyes, I felt the meaning in his touch. I couldn't believe it—it was, it really was …

“Anna?”

“Uh-huh,” I said quickly with an inaudible sigh. This wasn't John. The touch of his hand was cold, and I wanted to escape it, escape from this man I didn't know well enough. I looked out toward the dance floor, enveloped in my own thoughts as Henry went on about his life and his family.

“So, Anna?”

“Yes?” I said, turning back to Henry. I felt that it was time for me to go, and I searched my mind for a kind way I could leave. Instead, I sat politely still.

“Well, see, Anna, I was saying I'm glad I know now that you really do like me.” His excitement brimmed. “And so I've been meaning to tell you how I feel. See, well, I've been thinking, come late summertime, we can get married and raise a big family of our own.”

The words came smashing down like a stack of wood. This was all wrong—bitterly wrong. I jumped up so fast that I knew I startled him.

Did I just hear what I think I did?

“M-marriage? I'm just sixteen years old, Henry.”

“Well, most these women here get married around your age. So, I thought …”

I glared at him with my arms crossed. He looked confused.

“Anna, thought you said you like me well enough?”

“Henry,
no!
Why … why do you have to go and ask me something like that? We're friends, Henry, we're … we're friends! That's all!”

The shock that showed on his face touched my heart, but not deeply enough for my words to stop spilling forth.

“Why, Henry? Why me?”

He smiled uneasily. “Why not you, Anna? Can't stay unmarried forever. Gotta have some kinda man to—”

“I can stay unmarried forever!” The words came tumbling out angrily, bringing reality to the feeling I had inside that I might not see John again. I brought my voice down to a whisper, avoiding Henry's eyes.

“I can stay like that, Henry, an' I will, as long as …” I stopped. I had to stop before I started crying in the presence of this man I called a friend. I felt upset and guilty at the same time. I longed for Henry to chuckle my words away, to say simply that he understood. That what I felt and what I had said were all right. I longed for him to touch my hand, to pat my back, and to let me cry out my grief on his shoulder. But none of that happened.

Henry's eyes were entreating, his jaw set. The shadow of hurt had fallen upon his features. I tried to collect myself and form an apology, wanting to make everything right in that moment and waiting to hear a word or two of comfort from him. Perhaps he wished the same.

Then he did begin to say something.

“Anna, maybe you should think …”

I pried my eyes away from his before he could say anything more, crying on the inside for all the things I felt and all the things I missed and all the things I could not say to this man.

I turned and walked away, but still I listened for the questions and shouted words, hoping they wouldn't follow, and hoping, too, that they would. They didn't. Henry stood his ground and let me be, which made running away feel even worse. I told myself I didn't care, that only John mattered. But John wasn't here, and perhaps he never would be. What was I leaving behind, walking away like this?

My walk turned into a run as I sought out a place of seclusion. I allowed my mind to wander, trying to alleviate the pain of John's absence. He'd been away from me for a long time. I began thinking about anything that would help suppress it: Mrs. Rosa, my work, Mama Bessie. Eventually, thoughts of John started finding their way back to where my fears helped bury them.

The wind began to blow hard, biting my face and loosening the grip of my emotions. I collapsed by the tree in Mama Bessie's yard and closed my eyes, dreaming of the man who held my heart.

CHAPTER
 
44 

O
NE DAY THAT
A
UGUST
, I
STAYED BEHIND AFTER A TUTORING
session to talk to Mrs. Rosa about the idea that had been sitting in my heart for a long while.

“Mrs. Rosa, I've been thinking about something. I haven't said anything to you because, well, I couldn't really decide inside myself if this was something I really wanted, and—”

“Tell me what it is, Anna,” Mrs. Rosa said, trying to calm my excitement.

“Well, I've decided that I want to make this happen, Mrs. Rosa. I want to start a school. Now, before you object, I just want to tell you that it won't be an actual school building, or anything fancy like that. I can't afford that, anyhow. I just want to teach the children at Mama Bessie's and any other children in Hadson who want, and have the time, to learn.”

The thought had been taking shape in my mind, and the more it came into its final form, the more inspired I felt. This was what I had to do with my education. I knew it.

Mrs. Rosa's face melted into a large smile.

“Object? I think that's the most exciting and wonderful
thing I've heard in a while. It's one thing to learn, but to learn and then spread what you know is even better. Anna, how could I say no? It's taken you only a year to learn what it takes most people three or four. Of course, you still have so much to learn, but many of the residents of Hadson can't read or write at all, so you would be starting with basics anyway. What an idea! You just tell me what I can do to help.”

I rushed back to Hadson, filled with joy and determination after my discussion with Mrs. Rosa about how to make my school a reality. A year ago I simply wanted my own education, and now here I was, ready to teach others—at an elementary level, at least.

When I returned to the house, I told Mama Bessie, who was in the kitchen cooking, about the plan. She immediately sat down with me to come up with the best time of day and best place to do what I wished.

“You know, Anna, ever since you went off learning like you are, I been prayin' you'd do somethin' like this. Now here you are, ready to teach these younguns round here. What a blessing you are!”

I grinned and said, “If I may say so, Mama Bessie, I'm doing this more for myself than anything. Some urge is just pushing me to do this.”

“Well, Anna, it's something that needs to be done, an' God is telling you that. You keep listening, and this school of yours will go far.”

I nodded in agreement. We talked as we cooked the rest of the meal.

Not a week later, I stood tall and ready as thirteen small boys and girls sat giggling and squirming on a quilt spread out on the grass outside Mama Bessie's. They ranged in age from five to twelve. Mrs. Rosa and I had put together a teaching plan for them, and now I was getting ready to implement it. Ned sat in the very front and seemed more excited than the rest.

“Miss Anna, we gonna be able to read like you?”

“Miss Anna, can you teach me to write my name?”

“Miss Anna, what if it rains?”

“Be quiet now so Miss Anna can start. If you don't listen up now, she's gonna send you back inside. You don't want that, now, do you?” Mama Bessie's voice echoed from where she sat mending clothes, under the tree. Thirteen no's blew my way as I beamed at them all.

Florence was also out there, keeping order for me as well as she could. Personally, I believed she, too, was out there to learn. What was more, I had convinced Anita to help me teach. She stood by Florence quiet but alert.

The idea was that three times a week, I would teach them for two hours, and I stayed as committed as I could to making those two hours beneficial to every single child. I thought back to when I used to peak into the school building back in Tennessee and tried to mimic the calm, composed manner in which the teacher stood and went about her work. I was surprised at how well the children kept their focus on the lessons.

The hour began with Anita and me writing the alphabet and having the children identify each letter as we told them
the different sounds of each one. To make the task easier, we divided the children into two groups, with Anita and me each leading one. I enjoyed the lesson a great deal.

I had believed that breaking through Anita's solemness and convincing her to work with me would be difficult. But the first time I asked her to help me teach, she agreed with a nod even before I could begin to explain the idea in more depth. Her manner altered when she was out there, just as it did when she was with Little Sue. I marveled at the change but didn't comment on it. Florence noticed it too.

“That the same Anita I know?” Florence whispered to me the first day, enjoying the sight of a giggling cluster of girls surrounding Anita's tall form.

As the weeks went by, one or two more children from different families began to show up. The news of my “school” was spreading quickly, and I was excited.

One day I looked up, while the lesson was still in progress, to see I had some visitors standing off to the side. Henry stood looking out at the horizon, and Daniel was leaning against a tree, closer to where we sat.

I hadn't seen Henry since the dance a few months before. I had been pondering how to apologize to him for my response to his marriage proposal. I knew I had been wrong, and if anything, Henry had been looking out for me. Family was of great value in the community. I had to apologize, and now was the time. But when the final child
skipped off, proud to have sounded out an entire word with my help, Henry was gone. So I walked up to Daniel instead.