The End of the Line (31 page)

She
smiled like an innocent cherub and Mr. Thomas looked into her tiny face. He
then opened the envelope and saw an old photograph. It was of a tall, heavyset
white man dressed in a suit and a plainly-dressed black man staring into the
camera. Beside them was a young girl in a ballerina costume.

“This
picture is from my family archive,” Georgina said emotionally, “and I thought
you should have it. To the best of my knowledge, it is one of the oldest
photographs ever taken in Nova Scotia. The picture is of Mr. Garfield
Rutherford and Mr. Moses Thomas. The little girl is my great-grandmother. This
picture was taken the day the door was hung for the first time. That was 1868.”

“Amazing,”
Mr. Thomas muttered as he studied the photo. He seemed to enjoy the sensation
of the little girl’s hand on his wrist, as if it was a ball of cotton.

“This
is Annabel,” Georgina said, gesturing at the little girl who was next to Mr.
Thomas. “In two years she will be five, and in the tradition of The Old English
Club, she will be eligible to win a medal for ballet. If she earns the medal,
she would have her picture taken in front of the Moses Thomas door.” Georgina’s
voice faltered and tears welled in her eyes. She composed herself, and though
her bottom lip quivered, she held her head high. “I am sorry for the injustices
of the past, Mr. Thomas, but I am ready to do right by you. The door will be
removed tomorrow and returned to your family’s ownership. Thank you for your
time.” She turned to the girls. “Time to head back now.”

“May
I keep this picture?” Mr. Thomas asked with a look of pride as he stared at the
only photo he had ever seen of Moses Thomas.

Georgina
stopped and looked at him. “The photograph is our gift to you, Mr. Thomas.”

The
girls all looked at him with happy, innocent faces.

“And
the door is yours, too,” Georgina said, her voice cracking and tears rolling
down her cheeks. “It has always been yours.”

“Keep
the door!” Mr. Thomas suddenly exclaimed with a look of resolve.

Georgina
looked stunned. “What?”

“Keep
the door,” Mr. Thomas said.

“Are
you sure?”

“Yes,
I’m sure. It’s hung there all that time without any problems. It might get
damaged if it’s moved. I think it’s best to just leave it where it is.”

“Are
you sure?” Georgina said in disbelief. “You won’t change your mind?”

“It’s
yours,” Mr. Thomas said, smiling at the little ballerinas. “I wouldn’t take it
away from them.”

“Thank
you, sir,” Georgina said weakly, covering her mouth with her hand. “Thank you,
Mr. Thomas.”

“You’re
welcome.”

Georgina,
a woman known for her self-control, suddenly hurried across the room and hugged
Mr. Thomas. He was shocked by her action, but instinctively put his hands
around her. Georgina stood up straight, took a deep breath, and wiped her eyes
with a tissue. “I don’t know what to say.” She laughed and cried at the same
time.

“Peter
showed me the door,” Latesha said.

Mr.
Thomas froze but his expression did not reveal what he was thinking.

“The
girl in the door looks very much like you,” Georgina said, gazing with pleasure
at Latesha. “I know your mother was writing a history of your family. Do you
know what the girl’s name was?”

“Rashida,”
Latesha replied with pride. “That’s my middle name, too. Latesha Rashida
Thomas.”

“Rashida,”
Georgina said with a distant look in her eyes. “I always wondered what her name
was.”

“Where
did she come from?” one of the little girls asked.

Latesha
smiled at her. “She was born in Africa, but when she was a girl, she was taken
away from her home.”

The
girls all grew solemn. “Why?” questioned little Annabel. “Didn’t she like it
there anymore?”

“No,”
said Georgina, kneeling down to her. “A long time ago bad men went to Africa
and stole people away from their mommies and daddies. They took them far away
and were very mean to them.”

“They’re
bad,” said Annabel with a scowl. “That’s not nice.”

Georgina
nodded. “No, it wasn’t nice. It was horrible. When you little girls get big, it
will be up to you to make sure nothing like that ever happens again.”

Georgina
stood up and smiled at Mr. Thomas, nodded to Latesha, then turned and led the
children toward the door. They looked back and waved at Mr. Thomas, then walked
out the door.

“You
may visit us at any time,” Georgina said to Mr. Thomas, pausing at the
threshold, “and I would be more than pleased to show you the door myself. The
Old English Club is totally accessible and the van has a lift. If you would
like to see the door, call me at home any time you wish.”

“I’ll
keep that in mind,” he said with an obvious desire to appear formal and
respectful.

“Good
day, Mr. Thomas.”

“Good
day, Mrs. Rutherford.”

And
as quickly as they had come, they were gone. Mr. Thomas and Latesha looked at
each other as if not quite understanding what had just happened. Then the phone
rang. It was Mary, telling Latesha that the inspector had arrived and was
getting ready to check out the building. Latesha put on her shoes and hurried
to the center, joining Mary as the inspection began.

He
looked over the wiring, said it was perfect, then checked on everything else
from the shingles to the plumbing. At the end he told Mary everything met
standard, and he even complimented the carpenter who had installed the doors.

“Nice
job,” he said, opening one. “Good step, too. You guys really did your
homework.”

“Peter
was very helpful.”

“He’s
a good guy,” the inspector said with a nod. He passed her the certificate. “Excellent!
You’re cleared for the play tomorrow. Good luck!”

“Thanks
very much.”

The
inspection completed, the actors assembled once more that afternoon and did a
whole run-through with Mary reading Romeo’s parts. At this point they practiced
with sets and costumes that Peter had borrowed from the Shakespeare by the Sea
Theater Company. Everything was now coordinated with Beatrice perfectly
operating the lights. All was ready. Everyone left feeling uplifted and
optimistic, but when Latesha got home that evening, her father was very
melancholy.

“Do
you regret giving the door away?”

“What?”
he replied, snapping out of a daydream.

“Do
you regret giving the door away?”

“No,”
he said pensively. “It’s the play, Latesha. I won’t lie. I can’t beat it.”

She
turned away. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dad.”

“I
got something today,” Mr. Thomas said weakly.

“Oh?”

“You
know how you always tell me to get out for fresh air?” he said. “Well, today I
went to the mailbox and found this envelope.” He showed her a large yellow envelope
with the name Wheels written on it. “Look what’s inside.”

Latesha
took the envelope and opened it. She took out a piece of paper and turned it
over to find a drawing of a market square. Up on a stage was a young and naked
black woman, her hands tied above her head, and down below, staring at her like
wild beasts, were a group of young white men, their eyes wild with lust. One of
them, the most lascivious among them, was Peter’s height and had his long,
blond hair. Below the drawing, in crude writing, was the caption,
African princess becomes white man’s whore.

Latesha
ripped up the drawing and threw it in the garbage. She was furious and if she
could have gotten her hands on Tin Man at that time, she would have clawed his
eyes out.

“That’s
how they’ll see it,” Mr. Thomas said. “The white man is claiming you.”

“No
one claims me,” Latesha said firmly.

“If
you perform in that play tomorrow, you are his.”

Latesha,
still fuming, went to her room and brooded like a wild animal. The rest of the
day she was extremely quiet, preferring to focus on the performance. But by the
next morning she was in a heightened state of agitation. The play was only
hours away.

Though
the atmosphere in her house was impossibly heavy that day, Latesha got ready to
walk down to the community center a couple of hours before the play was to
begin. Before she left, however, she handed her father the book her mother had
written.

“You
should read all of it,” she said.

“I
didn’t have to. I saw enough in a few pages.”

“When
Dembi ran for freedom,” Latesha said with a firm look in her eyes, “he would
have been killed except for a white farmer in Mississippi. The farmer and his
little daughter helped Dembi when he really needed help. The next day he got
away, but the bounty hunters learned that the farmer had hidden Dembi and lied
to them.” She took a long, deep breath. “His daughter was only ten and she was
mentally challenged. She was a simple, sweet little girl who everyone loved.
They called her princess in the town.”

Mr.
Thomas listened respectfully.

“The
little girl loved everybody, she was always smiles and brightness. But the
bounty hunters were furious they had lost a huge ransom because of the farmer.
They tied him to a tree. Then they took that little girl and put a noose around
her neck. She screamed and cried and pleaded for her daddy to help her, but no
matter how much he struggled, he could not free himself. The bounty hunters
hung that little girl, his little princess, and made her father watch the whole
thing. The farmer saw and heard his child die that day. They left him like
that, tied to a tree with his precious little girl swaying on a rope right in
front of him. For more than twenty-four hours he was stuck there and unable to
move. Eventually someone came to visit and saw what happened. They freed the
farmer and called the law, but they never found those bounty hunters. That’s
because they went to Canada and caught Dembi east of the Saint Lawrence River
in southern Quebec.” She shook her head. “They weren’t finished. They raped a
First Nations girl. But the Iroquois caught them and wreaked a furious
vengeance. Those monsters paid dearly for what they did.” Latesha sighed loudly
and looked deeply into her father’s eyes. “But the farmer who helped Dembi lost
everything. They might as well have ripped out his heart. He buried his little
girl next to her mother, then dug a hole, stood in it, and shot himself. He
shot himself, Dad, right next to his dead little princess. A white man. A white
man who saved Dembi’s life.”

“I
didn’t know,” Mr. Thomas mumbled quietly and thoughtfully.

Tears
formed in Latesha’s eyes. “Can you imagine that, Dad? Can you imagine what that
little girl and that man went through? And all over a black man they didn’t
even know. They could have turned their backs on him, they could have seen the
world in black and white, but they didn’t. To them there were no races, there
was only the human race. They helped Dembi and it cost them everything, just
like those two white boys in Mississippi.” She stared at him like a displeased
mother. “Your prejudice is an insult to their memory. It’s like killing them
all over again.”

He
said nothing but looked down with a pensive stare.

“Read
your wife’s book,” Latesha said as she headed toward the door. “Read the whole
thing. Life is not black or white.”

Mr.
Thomas looked at the floor and held the book tightly in his hands.

Latesha
joined the other actors backstage and changed into her costume, and when she
came out of the dressing room, Peter was there, dressed just as she imagined
Romeo would be dressed. He smiled at her and she smiled back, the two of them
hyper-conscious of each other’s presence.

A
contingent from The Old English Club arrived in their symphony best, including
Jack Pearson and his wife, Charles and Georgina Rutherford. Ivan Strong arrived
with his wife, Millie, and all seven of his brothers, with their wives. Ivan
left Millie for a moment and walked up to Tiny in the back row. Latesha watched
through a gap in the curtain as they conversed, then they shook hands and
returned to their seats.

The
lights went down and an excited hush rose over the crowd. Someone coughed,
others moved in their chairs, and then there was silence. The curtain suddenly
opened. On stage were all the actors except Peter and Latesha. They stood in a
beautiful mellow light, a painted set behind them. The audience craned to see
as much as they could. Then some of the actors spoke in unison, becoming the
chorus to explain the unfortunate feud between two families, a feud that would
draw into it the star-crossed lovers, Romeo and Juliet. Their explanation
concluded, the curtain closed for a moment, then opened to two men walking
across the stage with drawn swords. A hush went over the audience and everyone
watched in rapt attention. Even the children were fascinated by the strange
sights and sounds.

From
the beginning, the actors played their parts exceedingly well. When Peter came
on the stage, Jack straightened up in his chair. Peter spoke eloquently and
with great projection, his voice resounding in the center. Throughout the crowd
people nodded in appreciation of the young man and whispered to each other of
the dashing figure he cut. Latesha then appeared dressed in a colorful dress
and everyone looked awestruck. But when Romeo and Juliet met for the first
time, the audience fell silent. Not only were Latesha and Peter a handsome
couple, there was such a strong energy and chemistry between them that it would
have been impossible not to feel it. People studied their every gesture, every
movement, every word.

The
two young people spoke with an emotion and conviction that captivated the
audience. When the curtain closed to end the scene, everyone clapped loudly. At
the intermission, as the ushers passed out sweets and juice, Peter and Latesha
stood in the background excitedly talking about the rest of the play.