A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton (32 page)
We ate some lunch, then hitched a team of two horses to each wagon. To get all the cotton to town, I’d have to drive one of the wagons myself. It couldn’t be helped. Katie led her team off along on the road, and I climbed into the second wagon. Jeremiah jumped up beside me. We would take him partway into town, and he would walk the rest of the way by himself. Then I called to my two horses and followed Katie onto the road.
“Y’all hurry back!” said Emma as she and Aleta waved to us.
“And you be careful and watchful,” said Katie back to her.
“I will, Miz Katie. Aleta an’ me’ll stay inside da whole time.”
W
E RODE INTO GREENS CROSSING SITTING ON
the two wagons, bouncing along the street toward Watson’s Mill, Katie leading, me following. Jeremiah had jumped off about a mile from town and disappeared across a field.
These were our fifth and sixth wagonloads since we’d started on the cotton field.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Henry as we passed the livery stable. I could tell he was watching us a little more carefully than I liked.
“Please, Mr. Watson,” said Katie when we got to the mill and his men were unloading the two wagons, “my, uh … could you pay us today for all the cotton we’ve brought so far? My … my mama wants me to deposit it in the bank.”
“Certainly, Kathleen,” he said. “I’ll go inside and tally up your account, then we will add today’s weight to it. Do you want it in cash or a bank draft?”
Katie seemed confused for just a second. But then she answered, “Cash please, Mr. Watson.”
We kept waiting. I tried to sit there looking down as if I wasn’t paying much attention. But every once in a while I saw Henry down the street eyeing us.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, Mr. Watson came out of his office.
“Here you are, Kathleen,” he said, handing her a small bag. “You’d better take this straight to the bank. Tell your mama I wish it were more, but hopefully she’ll get the rest of the crop harvested in a little faster. And here are the scale sheets,” he said, handing her a paper, “—two thousand one hundred and ten pounds at sixteen and a half cents a pound, which makes the three hundred forty-eight dollars that’s in the bag.”
Katie took both the paper and the bag, staring at him like she hadn’t heard right.
“Did you say … three
hundred
dollars?” she said.
“Yes, three hundred forty-eight.”
“Thank you … thank you, Mr. Watson!”
Katie turned and ran back to where I was sitting, her eyes huge and a big smile on her face. Then she stopped and turned back.
“May we please leave the wagons and horses here for a few minutes, Mr. Watson,” she asked, “while we walk down to the bank?”
“Of course, Kathleen,” laughed Mr. Watson. “And don’t spend it all in one place!”
I got down. Katie was obviously excited. I tried not to act like I’d understood, but I was dying of curiosity.
“Did he say what I think he said?” I whispered as we walked down the street toward the bank.
“Yes … yes!” said Katie. “There’s over three hundred dollars here. It’s enough … it’s enough, Mayme!”
“I had no idea cotton cost so much,” I said. “No wonder plantation owners are rich.”
Katie laughed. “Maybe we are rich too,” she said, “for a few minutes at least.”
We walked into the bank and I stopped. “I’ll wait for you out here,” I said.
“This time you’re coming in with me, Mayme,” said Katie.
“I can’t, Katie. People will stare.”
“I don’t care. You helped me save Rosewood. You earned most of this money, and so you’re coming in with me. We’re going to pay off that loan, and with what’s left over, I’m going to give you twenty dollars and you’re going to open your own bank account.”
“Twenty dollars! Katie, I couldn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear another word, Mayme. If you don’t do it … I will open an account myself with your name on it.”
Katie marched toward the door, with me following.
We walked into the bank, two dirty, scruffy girls, one white and one black. We hadn’t even stopped to clean up after our morning’s work.
I could see people glance up immediately all through the place looking at us. But Katie didn’t seem to mind. She went straight to Mr. Taylor’s desk.
He looked up but didn’t smile. I think he was getting very tired of seeing Katie all the time instead of her mother.
“Yes, Miss Clairborne, what is it?” he said curtly.
“Today is September twenty-ninth, I believe,” said Katie.
“It is. In fact I have just been completing the foreclosure documents right here. Since your mother persists in refusing to—”
Katie set down the bag of money on the desk with a loud clunk. Now even more heads turned.
“Would you please take one hundred fifty-three dollars of this,” said Katie, “for the payoff of the loan, and deposit all but twenty dollars of the rest into our account?”
“Well … I, uh, yes … yes, of course,” he said, fumbling for words as he rose from his chair. He pulled the bag across the desk, opened the top, and looked in. His eyes widened just like Katie’s at what he saw.
“This is … this is, of course, good news. Yes … I will see to it, Miss Clairborne!”
He reached down to his desk, picked up some papers, then smiled at Katie. “It appears we will have no more need of these,” he added, then ripped the papers in half. “I will process everything immediately. And you say you want twenty dollars in cash?”
“Yes,” answered Katie. “We want to open a new account with it.”
“I see. What kind of account?”
“Just a regular account, but in someone else’s name.”
“Ah, I see … of course. And whose name would that be?”
“Miss Mary Ann Jukes,” said Katie. “This is Miss Jukes with me,” she said, nodding toward me. “She will now be your customer.—Mary Ann, I would like to introduce you to the manager of the bank, Mr. Taylor.”
I reached out my hand. He looked at it as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it. I don’t know whether he’d ever shaken a colored person’s hand before.
“Uh, I … I am, uh—pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss, uh … Miss Jukes,” he said, hesitating a second, then limply shaking my hand and releasing it quickly.
“You will open the account, then?” said Katie.
“Yes … yes, right away,” said Mr. Taylor, picking up the money bag and walking toward the counter. I think he was relieved to get away from me!
Katie looked over at me and gave a little smile.
Yes, sir, I thought—she was growing up fast! She had just put a banker in his place who was probably the richest man in town.
When we walked out of the bank ten minutes later, we were both smiling. And I was holding a little booklet that had the words
Mary Ann Jukes
written across the top of it, and that inside on the first line said,
Sept 29, Deposit, $20
.
I’d never been so proud of anything in my life! Now I felt rich!
W
E WALKED BACK TO THE WAGONS.
“That was some pumpkins!” I whispered as we went. I could hardly keep myself from smiling. “Thank you so much, Katie,” I said. “This bank account means so much to me!”
“You deserve it, Mayme. If it weren’t for you, Mr. Taylor’s bank would own Rosewood by tomorrow.—Now let’s go home and pick some more cotton, so we can pay off the second loan too!”
“I think we should have a day or two for you to rest, Katie,” I said. “Then we’ll start in again.”
“I’m too exhausted to argue!” laughed Katie.
Katie climbed up on the lead wagon, and I got up onto mine.
“Get’up!” said Katie, flicking the reins.
She lurched into motion and I followed. In the distance, in front of the livery stable, I saw Henry standing talking to Jeremiah. I couldn’t hear them, but it looked like they were arguing.
Just then Henry glanced up and saw us down the street. He left Jeremiah and started walking toward us—taking big strides and moving faster than I’d ever seen him. Before Katie’s wagon could turn the next corner, there he was blocking the street.
He walked right out in front of us. Katie had no choice but to rein in and stop. My horses stopped too.
“Hello, Henry,” said Katie as he walked forward.
“Aftah’noon, ladies,” he said, looking us straight in the face, first at Katie, then over at me. “Looks ter me like you been a-workin’ mighty hard.”
“Uh … we’re picking the cotton, Henry,” said Katie.
“Yes’m, I kin see dat, Miz Kathleen. Yo han’s sho be some ruffed up. I’ve neber seen yo hands like dat afore, Miz Kathleen. Effen I din’t know no better, dese ole eyes er mine’d say you’s been a-pickin’ dat cotton yo’sef.”
Katie said nothing.
“Dat right, Miz Kathleen?”
“I’ve been helping some,” she said.
“An’ how be yo mama?”
“Uh … fine.”
Again he glanced from one of us to the other. He turned back and looked Katie in the eye even more intently.
“Is yo
sho
dere ain’t nuthin’ you gotter tell yo frien’ Henry, Miz Kathleen?” he said.
“No … nothing, Henry,” answered Katie. “Good-bye.”
She didn’t wait for him to get out of the way but flicked the reins again. We bounced forward as he stepped aside and just stood there staring at us. Both of us were afraid to look back. We kept our eyes straight ahead until we’d turned a street and were on our way past Mrs. Hammond’s.
But then she reined in and jumped down. I stopped my wagon behind hers while Katie ran into the store. She came out a minute later holding a small bag and jumped back on the wagon, and we continued on our way.
I doubt two girls, whatever the color of their skin, could have enjoyed a ride as much as Katie and I enjoyed that ride from Greens Crossing back to Rosewood. What a burden had been lifted from our shoulders! Rosewood was Katie’s again! In spite of how tired we were, we were so happy. We had to remind ourselves several times to keep on our toes, especially when we came to the Oakwood junction, in case any men came riding along that we didn’t want to see. But even that reminder couldn’t dampen our spirits.
When we got back, Katie ran inside to tell Emma and Aleta.
“Is dey gwine take yer house, Miz Katie?” Emma asked, still with a worried expression on her face.
“No, Emma! We paid off the loan! It’s still ours … and we have money left over from the cotton!”
She gave both girls a big hug.
“Does dat mean we picked enough, Miz Katie?” asked Emma.
Katie laughed with delight. “Yes, Emma—we picked more than enough!”
“Enough for today,” I added to what Katie had said. “But we’ve got to keep picking. There’s still another loan.”
“But it’s not due for a long time,” said Katie, “and we’re not going to worry about it right now. Today we’re all going to rest and take baths and fix something nice for supper. Look,” she said, showing them the bag from the store, “I got some treats for us all in town!—and we’re going to celebrate. Then maybe in a day or two we’ll start picking the cotton again.”
For the rest of the afternoon and evening, nothing could dampen Katie’s enthusiasm. I’d never seen her so carefree and full of joy, and it was contagious. We all laughed and played together like we never had before.
When bedtime came and we were all bathed and wearing clean clothes, I don’t think any of us wanted the day to end.
We were all sitting together in Katie’s room. Emma was holding William, who was asleep. Aleta was sitting on the bed all snuggled up to Katie. I was in a chair across the room. I had told one story, and Katie had just finished reading us all another story from one of her books.
She closed it and the bedroom got quiet. I yawned and got up to go to the room she called my room that used to be one of her brother’s.
“I don’t want anyone to leave,” said Katie dreamily. “I’m so happy right now, I want you all to stay with me all night.”
Then she seemed to realize what she’d said. She perked up where she sat, awake again and eyes wide.
“And why not!” she said. “All of you, get your things—your blankets and pillows and dolls and come in here and we’ll all sleep together for the night!”
