Mystery of the Dark Tower (13 page)

Bessie cast her eyes down as the man explained where he'd found Bessie and with what. “Go get Richard Bruce,” Miss Walker said to the man. He left the room.

Bessie couldn't take it any longer. No matter how scared she was, she had come to the Dark Tower to get Papa. And no matter what, even if everyone believed that she stole the watch, she wasn't leaving without Papa. “I came to get my papa,” Bessie said loudly.

“What?” Miss Walker said, “You came for your papa?”

“Yes. I know he's here. And I want him to come home to be with us. His family. His children,” Bessie said, feeling braver. No one was going to keep her from Papa.

Bessie stood up. Her fingers clutched her Memaw necklace. “I found the watch on the floor. I didn't steal it. I never steal.”

“All right, but what were you doing sneaking around in my house?”

“I told you,” Bessie said. “I came to get my papa. My mama isn't here in Harlem, so
I
have to get him from you.”

“From me?” Miss Walker said. “Who in the world is your papa, child?”

“You know who he is,” Bessie said defiantly. “I saw my papa's shirt in that room down the hall. I found those same paint tins and brushes at home in his suitcase. I read the note you wrote him.”

“The note?” Then Miss Walker laughed. To Bessie's ears it was a loud and cruel laugh. The laugh of a witch.

“Lord, I know who you are now,” Miss Walker said. “You're Ed Coulter's little daughter, Bessie. But why are you dressed like this?”

“I want my papa,” Bessie said, balling up her fists at her sides. Bessie was furious that the woman knew her name. Did Papa tell Miss Walker about her and Eddie?

“Your papa was here. You're right about that,” Miss Walker said. “But he's gone.”

“I don't believe you. He's here, and I want him to come home with us.”

“He
is
home,” Miss Walker said.

Bessie wished she had a rock. She'd knock this woman over. “This is not Papa's home. His home is with us. With Mama.” Bessie was shaking so hard she could feel her knees hitting together.

“Calm down, honey,” Miss Walker said. “I meant that I put him on the train myself, yesterday. He is home—with your mama.”

“You're fibbing. I'm not leaving here without Papa,” Bessie said. She refused to let this evil woman trick her.

The tall white man walked back into the room. The colored man with no socks on walked in, too. “Hey,” the colored man said, smiling at Bessie. “I hear you found my watch. Thank you.”

“I'm sorry, sir. I accidentally stepped on it,” Bessie said, hoping the man wouldn't be mad.

“It's all right,” he said. “Carl here tells me you were hiding in the room.”

The white man glanced at Bessie. “Is she all right, A'Lelia?”

“She's looking for Ed,” Miss Walker said. “Bessie, meet Richard Bruce Nugent, a writer and artist. And Carl Van Vechten, a novelist and art collector.”

“And Miss Bessie's claim to fame?” Mr. Nugent asked.

“Meet Ed Coulter's daughter.”

“Did she come for the presentation?” Mr. Van Vechten asked.

Mr. Nugent interrupted. “Splendid. What a fitting tribute. You're a genius, A'Lelia.”

“It's not my doing,” Miss Walker replied. “Bessie thought this up all on her own. Didn't you, sweetie?”

Bessie felt more confused and angry than ever. Why weren't they getting her papa for her? Did this woman think she could just break up Bessie's family? She spoke up again. “I only came to get my papa.”

“Then you shall have him,” Miss Walker said. “Come along with us.”

Bessie reluctantly followed her down the stairs. She didn't want to obey this woman, but what else could she do? Maybe when Papa saw her he would feel so bad that Miss Walker's spell would be broken. Bessie held on to the gold-and-black banister so she wouldn't fall in her shoes. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Bessie looked across the foyer into the grand party room she'd seen before. The crowd of people had gathered in a circle around the huge covered object Mr. Nugent had wrestled downstairs.

Miss Walker grabbed Bessie's hand and pulled her across the foyer and into the center of the room. Bessie couldn't imagine why she was there, unless Miss Walker was going to tell everyone how she'd been sneaking around in her house. Bessie wanted to cry. She held her Memaw necklace tightly for protection and scanned the audience, searching the faces for Papa. But she didn't see him.

All she saw was a glittering crowd of strangers. Women in fancy maids' uniforms walked through the crowd asking, “May I refill your champagne glass for the toast?”

Bessie could see that this room was as beautiful as the one upstairs. A huge bookcase stood against one wall. Fancy red chairs sat beside tables draped with white lace. Flowers sat in the center of each table. An orchestra played in the back of the room.

A'Lelia Walker tapped on a tall, thin glass. “Everyone. As you know, you're here tonight for the unveiling of a painting that Carl Van Vechten and I commissioned of a Negro Madonna and Child. The artist who painted it is a very special man, and we've decided to award the balance of the money due him, a three-thousand-dollar check, tonight.”

People in the audience clapped loudly.

Bessie's eyes blurred with embarrassment. Why was she being forced to stand up here?

“Do you see this young woman here?” Miss Walker asked, laying her hand on Bessie's shoulder.

Bessie wanted to die.

A'Lelia Walker continued. “She was daring enough to sneak into the Dark Tower tonight to find out if her father was here. Her father is Ed Coulter.”

The audience clapped wildly.

Bessie didn't understand what was happening. She looked from Miss Walker to the Van Vechten man, but they both were grinning, clapping, and looking at her.

“We can agree there are no coincidences, right?” Miss Walker continued. “So, I present to you Ed Coulter's Madonna and Child.”

There was a drumroll from the band as Mr. Nugent pulled the cloth off the object. It was a large painting.

Thunderous applause filled the room. Miss Walker held up her hand for the crowd to quiet down.

“Do you recognize anyone in this painting?” she asked. Bessie heard gasps and murmurs from the crowd.

“Bessie,” Miss Walker said, pulling her around in front of the painting. “Do
you
recognize anyone in this painting?”

It was Bessie's mama. And she was holding a baby that looked like Bessie. It was just like the drawing Papa had given her of Mama holding her when she was a baby. But the face of the baby in this painting was just like Bessie's face now. Bessie's heart was breaking. Papa painted this beautiful picture of Mama for another woman? It didn't make any sense. Bessie was so confused she couldn't think.

“So now,” A'Lelia Walker said, “I'd like to present the check for three thousand dollars to Bessie Carol Coulter, on behalf of her father, who couldn't be here because he wanted to go see about his wife.”

Bessie's eyes grew large. What did she mean—see about his wife? Mama?

“Mrs. Coulter has been sick,” Miss Walker continued. “She stayed back in North Carolina, where she was being cared for. But Ed Coulter wanted to nurse his wife back to health himself. For weeks, Ed worked on this painting to raise the money to go back to North Carolina. Finally he came here to stay at the Dark Tower so he could finish it as quickly as possible and get back home to his wife.” Miss Walker paused, then smiled. “Now that's how a man
ought
to love a woman.”

Bessie heard her, but the words were overwhelming. Papa
did
love Mama! He had been here working, just as he said. And now he was back home with Mama.

Bessie heard Miss Walker through her confusion and tears. “And as you can see, folks, he's also raised a brave little girl.” The crowd burst into applause as Miss Walker handed Bessie the check.

C
HAPTER
11

F
AMILY

Afterward Bessie sat and talked to Miss A'Lelia Walker, or Miss A'Lelia, as they agreed Bessie should call her. She introduced Bessie to all the artists, writers, and musicians at the party. Bessie was fascinated that Miss A'Lelia actually knew all these people, including the poet Bessie loved, Langston Hughes. When Miss A'Lelia's driver took Bessie home, she was too excited to care that the lights in the front room were on. Aunt Esther had beat her home.

Aunt Esther opened the door. Bessie hugged her quickly.

“Where on earth have you been?” Aunt Esther burst out. “I have been worried sick.”

“So have I,” Aunt Nellie said.

“I-I-I'm sorry, Bessie,” Eddie said. “I-I tried to m-m-make up something.”

“It's all right, Eddie,” Bessie said, hugging him.

“And what in the name of heaven do you have on?” Aunt Esther asked.

Before Bessie could answer, Aunt Nellie said, “Wait a minute. Didn't I—? No, that couldn't have been you.”

“It was me,” Bessie admitted. “But I've got good news. Here, Aunt Esther,” Bessie said, handing her aunt the check.

“What is this?” Aunt Esther said. Then she looked at it. “Oh, my goodness. Where did you get this?”

“It belongs to Papa. He worked for it by painting a picture,” Bessie said, grinning with pride.

“What are you talking about, Bessie?” Aunt Esther said. “Your papa is in New Jersey working on the docks. Isn't he, Nellie?”

Aunt Nellie was staring down. “No,” she said. “He was working, but not in New Jersey. He didn't tell you, Esther, because he knows you disapprove of him painting. Remember how you used to say that a decent family man would find a real job instead of wasting time?”

“What about the letter from Martha?” Aunt Esther asked. “The one written to us and the children saying he was all right and working in New Jersey?”

“I wrote the letter,” Aunt Nellie said.

“I knew Mama didn't write it,” Bessie said. “And I knew Papa wasn't working in New Jersey on the docks building anything. He left his brogans. Papa never works without them.”

“Wait a minute.
You
knew where he was, too?” Aunt Esther asked Bessie. “Where was he?”

“He was staying at the Dark Tower,” Bessie said. “He got a job painting a picture of a colored—I mean Negro—Madonna and Child for Miss A'Lelia Walker and a man named Carl Van Vechten.”

Aunt Esther's hands flew up to her mouth. “You mean Madame C. J. Walker's daughter?”

“Who is M-Madame Walker?” Eddie asked.

“Why, she's a colored millionaire. She's passed on now, but she was a good, generous woman,” Aunt Esther said. “She made her fortune selling things for colored women's hair and skin. Lord have mercy My brother painting for Madame's daughter!”

“And you met Mr. Carl Van Vechten?” Aunt Nellie asked.

“Yes, he's a very nice man,” Bessie said.

“Who's Van-Van—you know?”

“He writes novels about colored people,” Aunt Nellie said. “Word is, he helped lots of colored writers meet the big New York publishers, and he collects colored artists' work.”

“And my little niece met all those people tonight?” Aunt Esther asked.

“Yes, ma'am,” Bessie said. “I went to the Dark Tower for Papa, and that's when I found out the truth.”

Bessie told them the whole story. But she left out the part about Miss Flo. Aunt Esther would never understand that.

“I can't believe it. You children did this all by yourselves?” Aunt Esther said. She turned to Aunt Nellie. “And you didn't know about them doing this, either?”

“No, but I'm impressed,” Aunt Nellie said, smiling at Bessie and Eddie.

Bessie smiled back, but then she looked down at the floor. Miss A'Lelia had given her some serious news, too, and now it was time to talk about it. Bessie looked at her aunts.

“Miss A'Lelia told me that Mama has tuberculosis,” Bessie said.

“What's that?” Eddie asked.

“It's a disease of the lungs,” Aunt Nellie said gently. “Your papa brought you here so you wouldn't catch it from your mama.”

“Miss A'Lelia said no one told us because people are all ashamed of it,” Bessie explained. “Sometimes when people know that someone in your family has it, they don't want anything to do with you. Miss A'Lelia said that's why Mama made Papa promise not to tell us or let us find out. She was afraid we might tell people and they would treat us bad, Eddie.”

“What about Papa?” Eddie asked. “Is h-he all right, Bessie?”

“Yes, he is. He's fine. But Miss A'Lelia told me that right after we got to Harlem, Papa thought he was getting sick, the same as Mama. He didn't want to risk making us sick too, so he wasn't coming home much. I guess that's why he quit saying good night to us, Eddie. But Miss A'Lelia had her doctor check him, and he just had a bad cold. Then we didn't see him because he stayed at the Dark Tower to finish the painting. And now, Papa is with Mama.”