Yellow Crocus (11 page)
Lying in bed, Lisbeth thought about the day while Mattie sat nearby humming a tune. The girl’s voice broke into the calm night. “Mattie, when I lose a tooth, can I throw it on the roof and make a wish?’
“Don’ see why not.”
“You think Samuel and Poppy will let me use their roof? Mine is too high to reach.”
“I can ask ’em. I ’magine they gonna say yes.”
“Do you think the wish will come true if it is not on my own house?” wondered Lisbeth.
“I don’ suppose I know all about wishes, but I don’ see why not. Now you hush up and go to sleep.”
Mattie resumed her own thoughts while Lisbeth lay quietly in bed. After some time, Mattie spoke into the silence with a false casualness. “Lisbeth, what you think about me invitin’ Samuel to be with us under the willow? Maybe you teach him a bit what you been learnin’ about books and numbers?”
“Yes,” Lisbeth replied in a dream-coated voice, innocently agreeing to betray her parents.
M
attie relished Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. All felt right in the world as she sat under the broad willow tree sandwiched between Lisbeth and Samuel, listening to her son and her Lisbeth go over the shapes and sounds of letters and words. The anxiety she had felt when Samuel first joined them evaporated as weeks turned into months then into more than a year without any hint of being discovered.
Under the willow between the Quarters and the Big House proved to be a perfect place to meet. Weather permitting, Mattie and Lisbeth had been going there most afternoons since Lisbeth was a toddler, first for naps and then for studying. None of the white folks suspected that Samuel joined them under the willow two afternoons a week. The wispy green branches now hung so low that they could not be seen from the Quarters or the fields, and the dark brown trunk was so wide they were hidden from the Big House.
It took some doing, getting Samuel away without the overseer knowing, but in nearly two years he had hardly missed a lesson. Rebecca, Lawrence, and others worked extra to cover Samuel’s share of planting or picking while he was away. The overseer didn’t pay much attention to the comings and goings of a young boy, so long as all the work was getting done. Though only Samuel slipped out to the willow tree, other children in the Quarters were learning to read as well. He brought his knowledge back to the cabins, and by scratching into the dirt, he taught Sarah and some other children to unlock the mystery of letters.
Having mastered all of Lisbeth’s reading primers, Samuel now read from the Holy Bible. Mattie loved hearing her son’s lips form the words of the Lord. On a hot late-summer day, sheltered by the cool of the tree, resting her head against the smooth bark of the trunk, she closed her eyes and listened to the soft sounds of the children. Samuel sat to her left, Lisbeth sat to her right, and the Bible was open upon her lap. Samuel easily read most of the book and only needed assistance from Lisbeth when a particularly difficult word came along. Occasionally they worked together to sound out a word that was beyond Lisbeth’s vocabulary. They delighted when they found names of friends and family members, such as Rebecca, Mary, or Sarah, and chuckled over unfamiliar names like Epoch.
“Eeepooooch,” Samuel drew out in a silly voice. The three of them laughed hard and long until they had stitches in their sides.
Recently the lessons began to include writing. Even Mattie learned to write her name, though she refused Lisbeth’s offer to teach her any letters beyond M-A-T-T-I-E, arguing, “I don’ see how I ever gonna have any use for writin’ my own name, much less any other letterin’. I jus’ glad to know the shape of it. You jus’ keep on learnin’ Samuel his letters. You young folks need readin’ and writin’, not me.”
Samuel had mastered writing capital letters and was moving on to lower case. Using the ground as a chalkboard, he copied the shapes Lisbeth wrote in the dirt. Again and again Samuel formed careful loops and lines while his mother listened. The children teased her that she fell asleep during the lessons, but Mattie insisted she was “jus’ resting her eyes.”
“All the letters are correct except the ‘q.’ See how the loop is to the back?” Lisbeth pointed out to Samuel. “You are making a ‘g’.”
Samuel tried again. “Like this?”
“No, this direction.” Lisbeth showed him.
Samuel tried again.
“You are still making it backwards. This is a ‘g’,” Lisbeth instructed, reaching over Mattie to guide Samuel’s hand with her own to form the distinct letters, “and this is a ‘q’.”
“Don’ do that!” Mattie sat forward quickly and barked. She leapt up, grabbed Samuel by the arm, and yelled, “Never touch a white girl! Never! Do you hear me?” Spit flew from her mouth. “You gonna get yourself killed!”
The two children stared at Mattie, frozen in fear with their hearts beating fast. Neither one had ever seen Mattie so angry.
Trembling with rage and adrenelin, Mattie hissed into Samuel’s face, “Now go! Back to the fields. You done learnin’ for the day.”
Her hand dug into Samuel’s arm as she spun him around toward the Quarters and shoved him hard between his shoulder blades. His back hunched over, Samuel rubbed his arm and walked away from the trunk without a word.
“Get your hat!” Mattie hissed at him. Samuel always returned to the fields with his hat on his head. The head covering was his cover for being away from the fields if the overseer caught him. He parted the willow branches and peered around before he left their cool shelter.
“Stupid boy. Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Mattie mumbled to herself.
“I am sorry, Mattie,” Lisbeth’s small voice apologized. “I was only trying to teach him. I did not know it was dangerous.”
“Well, your not knowin’ might get my son killed someday. He can never touch a white girl. Never,” Mattie muttered under her breath. “Never touch a white lady.”
MARCH 1847
L
isbeth sat all alone in the shade of her beloved willow tree reading. Now that she was nearly ten years old, Lisbeth was expected to take care of herself during the day while Mattie attended to other chores. This afternoon Mattie was ironing sheets. Samuel, his reading and writing lessons complete, no longer joined her under the tree either. Those conspiratorial afternoons were a part of the past, though Lisbeth occasionally gave Mattie a book to sneak to Samuel.
Taking a moment to enjoy the luscious spring day, Lisbeth was surprised to hear the sound of jeering intrude upon her quiet. It was rare that anyone came near her private fortress. She listened as taunting voices got louder and louder. She made her way to the edge of the tree and parted the branches. Her brother and his friends were in the clearing behind the Quarters. Lisbeth was appalled when she realized what she was seeing. Her brother, Jack, was showing off for some of his older friends—Edward Cunningham, Nathaniel Jackson, and William Anderson—by harassing one of the negroes. They made a ring around their victim, taunting and threatening him with a rope that swung from Jack’s hands.
Lisbeth threw down her book and stormed down the rise to her brother and his friends. She hated the way they tormented the field hands for sport. As she got closer her breath caught. Their victim was Samuel! His head was bowed and he did not see her approaching. Shame and rage poured through her, but she covered her feelings quickly. She knew she must handle this right or she would make things worse, as Jack was not inclined to take directions from his older sister.
As she walked up to the boys she was careful not to look at Samuel lest she betray that he mattered to her. Mustering as much self-righteous indignation as possible, doing her best to mask her fear, Lisbeth haughtily declared, “You are disturbing my reading. You know you are supposed to let me study.”
“Study elsewhere,” Jack taunted without taking his eyes off of Samuel.
“I do not wish to,” Lisbeth stated. “You know this is my preferred place to learn. What are you doing?”
“Teaching this nigger to show us respect.”
“Father does not approve when you interfere with the niggers,” she replied.
“He does not care about this one,” Jack replied with a sneer. “He is to be sold. We do not need another buck around here.” Jack turned his gaze to Lisbeth and stared hard.
Stunned by the news, but not wanting to reveal anything to her brother, Lisbeth lied, “Well, I do not care about him either. I simply want to study in peace. Now go elsewhere.”
She stared hard at her brother, not allowing herself to glance at Samuel or avert her eyes. Jack stared back. Lisbeth did not look away. She felt the eyes of the onlookers pass back and forth between the two of them. Her hands were moist but she did not make a move to wipe them dry.
Finally Jack snorted and looked away. “Come on,” he said to his friends, “there are frogs down at the creek. I bet I catch the biggest one.”
The tension broke the instant the boys, done playing at being men, walked away without a backwards glance, their minds on their next task. The gang frolicked like a pack of puppies, bumping into one another as they made their way down the path. Lisbeth sighed with relief and wiped her damp hands on her gown. She had done it—she had driven off her brother and his friends.
With Jack gone, Lisbeth dared to look at Samuel. She studied him as he glared after Jack. Rage burned on his face. His tormentors played with one another, not giving him another thought.
When they were entirely alone, Lisbeth quietly, shamefully spoke, “I am sorry, Samuel. I will tell Mattie what Jack said. It will be all right.”
Samuel stared at Lisbeth, fury beaming from his eyes. Her eyes welled up; her chest tightened.
“It will be all right,” she insisted, trying to convince herself as much as Samuel.
A cold, hard look sat on Samuel’s face. Without a word, he shook his head, turned away, and made his way back to his cabin.
Counting her steps as she walked, 1…2…3…, Lisbeth returned to the willow. She sat down, picked up her book in her shaking hands, and pretended to read. She willed her heart to slow down, taking deep breaths. After she calmed herself, she ran to Mattie.
Mattie was in their rooms, waiting to dress Lisbeth for supper. A breathless Lisbeth blurted out, “Mattie, Jack says Samuel is to be sold! He might only be teasing, but it may be true.”
Mattie sank into the rocking chair. Lisbeth stared intently at her nurse waiting for a response.
Lisbeth broke the long silence. “Mattie, he will be fine. They will sell him to someone nice.”
“Hush!” Mattie snapped as she stared blankly. “Let me think.”
