An Elderberry Fall (6 page)

S
imon had been away for more than a week when an unexpected visitor knocked on my door. Momma came wearing a new hat and a smile as wide as the James River. Seeing her smile was something abnormal for me. Her serious demeanor had been how people related to her. But after six months, she had changed drastically. And, it was possibly for the good. When she wrote me letting me know she'd be paying me a visit, I didn't think it would be a week later. Ironically, she showed up the same day I received Simon's disturbing letter. It said he would be traveling to Baltimore, to play the Black Sox, and then on to Kansas City before returning home. He said they wanted to go to Chicago, but after the race war of 1919, the league was afraid to go in that direction. People were being lynched for crossing the invisible territorial race lines. Old Rube Foster was still pushing though for the Major League to recognize the colored teams.

Momma's smile was inviting, yet her comments were still negative. After she put her bag in my room and placed her new black hat neatly on my vanity, she came into the kitchen. She sat down at the kitchen table. With Robert in one arm, and a cup of coffee in the other, she said, “You know Jefferson County ain't changed much since you left.”

“Oh yeah…,” I commented, and the intensity of her gaze stayed the same.

I could sense she was expecting to gain knowledge of something from me. She'd pause, waiting for a reaction from me, but I had nothing to say. The news about Jefferson was not surprising. I continued sipping on my steaming hot coffee, blowing it occasionally.

Finally, she said, “White folks still don't like coloreds. They're still talking about lynching us and killing us.”

I couldn't understand why all of a sudden, the social environment of Jefferson was something of interest. “Momma, I really don't care much about Jefferson. I am in Richmond now. I've got to run my life from where I am. Besides, white people run this country. Colored folk are going to be second class until we get us an education.”

Her brows heightened and her eyes grew concerned. “You should care.”

“I don't understand what you mean,” I said, raising my voice and shaking my head.

“Now listen here!” Her voice grew stronger. “You don't have no reason to sass me,” she said, her eyes pouring into me like an arrow. “I am letting you know that white people are the same everywhere, even here in Richmond.”

Her comments got to me and I struggled to keep from disrespecting her. “I don't have anything to do with no white people in Jefferson. They been treating people bad all their lives; they ain't going to change in a few months.”

“Hush yo mouth, chile!”

“What are you talking about, Momma? Just tell me.”

The room was quiet. Even little Robert didn't make a sound. He looked at her, his bright eyes fixated on the grimace that was taking over her face.

“Why are you allowing a white woman to look after your child?” she boldly asked.

I thought about what she'd said for a moment. “Why is everybody so scared of the white man?”

She rested her hand on her fist. “You need to make sure you understand what they will do to you before you let that lady take care of your child.”

I didn't want to talk about Mrs. Hall.

“Momma, I want to know how Ginny is doing. She is somebody that matters. I wrote her a letter, and haven't heard back from her yet,” I said, changing the subject.

“Ginny is doing good. I saw her at church last Sunday. She asked about you and Robert as she always does. Lord knows she claims she don't get around much, but she is always at church.”

“I miss her,” I said.

“I know she misses you. Nobody goes around there to see her much. Minnie's children visit, but they don't have the kind of relationship you had with her.”

The transition of our conversation from white folks to Ginny was something we both could speak about, and we needed it as much as an autumn breeze. Besides, Ginny had been on my mind, had been in my dreams and thoughts for over a week. I couldn't forget the coffee and buttered biscuits she'd offered me right before filling my head with the kind of wisdom I never got from Momma, but longed for as any teenager would.

Momma began by giving me a rundown of all the people in the county. She started with Ginny and how her arthritis had kept her down for two months until she took a dose of turmeric, and then on to Pearl, who had moved and making most of the women in Jefferson happy, since she was never a settled woman—rather
one who moved from man to man. It was more information than I'd ever expected from her. When I lived with Momma, she was tight-lipped and so guarded that she made me feel distant. She never revealed much to anyone, including my papa who shared his heart with everybody around. This was not expected. She even said the preacher had been coming over to her house to see about her. She said he'd been helping Carl with some of the outside work. Maybe he was the one responsible for the smile she had on her face when I opened the front door. I remember her having that same smile after Papa died.

“Carrie, do Nadine come over here much to see you?”

Momma remembered Nadine from the letter I'd written her the second week I was in Richmond. I'd described all of my neighbors to her. I wanted her to know how they looked and smiled. My excitement was written on each line of all the letters I'd written to her. So, it was no surprise she recognized my neighbors even though she had not officially met them.

“No, ma'am, she don't.”

“She is close to your age.”

“We are different, though.”

“What on earth does that mean, chile?”

“She is just not my type of friend.”

Before Momma could comment, there was a knock on the door. I sighed when I peeped out of the door, and it was Nadine.

“Come in,” I said.

“The children say you got a visitor over here. Simon must be in town.”

Momma sipped on her coffee and listened to the conversation before she said anything.

“Well, hello, Nadine,” she said. “Most peoples come in the house usually know to speak.”

“I'm sorry, ma'am. I just came in the door talking,” Nadine assured her, smiling.

She then walked over to Momma, and reached to shake her hand. Momma stood up and shook her hand.

Afterward, Nadine said, “I have never seen you before. You related to Carrie?”

“Yes, she's my child.”

“Oh, okay. You live in Jefferson?”

“I do,” Momma answered.

“Well, my little boy said somebody was over here, so I stopped by to see. I thought Simon was back in town.”

Momma didn't wait for me to say anything. She quickly commented, “You married, Nadine?” she asked.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“It seems mighty strange for a married woman to be asking about somebody else's husband.”

“My husband works on the railroad,” she said, shying away from Momma's comment.

Momma glanced over at me. I didn't open my mouth, sort of enjoying the way Momma had addressed Nadine.

“Nadine, when will your husband be home?” Momma asked.

“I don't know no more. He comes whenever he wants to. I never know anything.”

“You had best to stay ready in case he come home soon.”

“I guess,” Nadine commented. “I guess I ought to get on across the road now…nice meeting you, ma'am,” she said as she walked toward the door.

“You, too!” Momma replied.

After Nadine was out of the door, Momma looked at me. “You got yourself a Pearl Brown right across the road. You keep your eyes open. That chile is bold. She seems to be trouble.”

Nadine didn't have me fooled. I could tell what she was up to the day she borrowed the eggs.

Having Momma with me in Richmond for two weeks was good for me and Robert. Momma rose early. She enjoyed seeing the breaking of dawn, since she felt God was able to speak to her best in total solitude. It was the time to talk to the Lord, she'd say. It was good for me because it was obvious Robert felt the same way. He always woke early, and after a changing of his diaper and a bottle of milk, he'd go back to sleep until the sun was at its fullest. It was the first time since he'd been in the world I was able to get a full night's sleep.

Simon's absence made me nervous. I had never lived alone. I was surrounded by families I barely knew. However, Momma's presence relieved me of the anxiety of being totally responsible for the care of my son. Momma did everything for him. She watched him while I sashayed to the store free as a bird. And, because she was watching him, I took my time. I'd go up and down every aisle in the store. I knew which aisle the pickled beets were on and how the shortening was stuck between the flour and sugar. On the way home, I held my head back and let the autumn breeze kiss my face. It was like I was new. Momma fed Robert, played with him and lay down beside him until he fell off to sleep. She smiled at everything Robert did. She even grinned when she took off his diaper, and he squirted pee in her face and on her glasses. She gave him all the attention she had not given my brothers and me. We never understood why she was so cold, and detached from us, but now she was different. She treated Robert as if he mattered. And when I caught her kissing him on the cheek, I was at a loss for words.

“We are getting used to you being here with us,” I told her after unloading the sack I brought home with sugar, flour and butter
for the cake she'd been promising to bake before she went home.

“I am going home in two days. I've been here long enough. My house is left unattended to. Carl has been too busy with his own land. He got to finish that other room they are building for the children.”

“What children, Momma? Is Mary expecting?”

“No, not yet, but they are young. I told 'em they had plenty of time, but Mary wanted to get a room ready, just in case.”

“Carl is a good husband. He will do anything to please Mary.”

“Simon's good too! He took you and Robert in without any questions. A man like that is hard to find. Lord knows he reminds me of my Robert. That man worked hisself to death. Now, he was a good man. Lawd, if I only knew.”

Momma was profound with her statement. My papa was a great man, yet she only smiled for a snake walking on legs. That was strange to me, since he treated her like shit.

I
left Robert sleeping beside Momma soon after the rooster crowed and I got a peek at daybreak. I couldn't let her catch the train back to Jefferson before I handled some business of my own. I got dressed and took some coins for the trolley out of the household cash that Simon always left behind. It was a brisk morning; the trees in the yard were swaying with the breeze. The sun was a deep bronze, transforming the landscape and growing brighter with each step I took. The cobblestone walkway was hard on the dress shoes I was wearing. It was quiet outside, totally peaceful. As I absorbed the beauty of downtown Broad Street, I couldn't help daydreaming about teaching in the schoolhouse I passed by on the way downtown. Just the thought cast a smile on my face.

I couldn't help noticing how the trees had started to turn colors. The buildings were old and colonial with large columns. When I walked right past the John Marshall hotel which had been the lodging place for the president and other dignitaries, I slowed my pace in hopes of seeing someone of importance, but the only person around was a doorman in a top hat, and he didn't even smile. There was something special about Richmond and I loved the buildings and how they towered over the city with authority. The
white folks stared at me. One gazed so long I thought she might pop an eye vessel, but not one of them stepped off the sidewalk or acted like I was an animal, like I'd seen happen in front of the Seed and Feed store in Jefferson. The white folk in Jefferson felt we black people had a disease; at least they acted like it, despite the fact that some colored women were wet nurses for white children. The Richmond Whites appeared used to the colored folks and we seemed used to them. Some of the merchants in Jackson Heights were even friends with many of them. Not all colored folks were servants and laborers. Besides, my papa told me I was as smart and important as the whites were.

As I continued to the trolley station, I couldn't help wondering about Ms. Pearl and what would happen if she and Momma were to see each other on the street. Would they speak? Or would they scrabble? I know Momma didn't like Pearl, and thus it was hard for me to like her. But, when we heard her sing at the club, she was nice to me and appeared better than all the stories people told. I took the trolley down near Virginia Union Normal School, and got off and walked the three blocks to the campus. There were only a few students on the yard.

A man came up and introduced himself to me. “Hi, I am Adam Murphy.” Adam was about my age, studying to become a minister at Virginia Union. He was a dark fellow with light-brown eyes, a fine bridged nose and full lips. He was what I'd call a distinguished-looking, beautiful man. He was polite as well.