Promise of Yesterday (11 page)

Cooper’s cough tugged her thoughts back to him. His jaw worked, and his lower lip trembled a bit.

“You best get yourself tucked back in bed.”

He didn’t move. When he lifted his face, she sensed that he had made some kind of decision. One that cost him much. She opened her mouth to put the question to him, but his words cut her off. “He’s a good man for you, Marylu. You best not push him away.”

She stiffened. “What you mean ‘push him away?’ I didn’t push anyone away.”

Cooper’s gaze went dark and intense, and she thought she caught a sheen of wetness there, but he put a fist to the table and shoved to his feet faster than she’d seen him move in a long time.

“Cooper?”

He disappeared without answering.

Chester faced the boy who sat, back up against the wall, beside his bed. He swung his legs over the side and sat up. Zedikiah looked pale in the morning light, and from the stench of him, Chester knew the boy’d already been sick.

“Get cleaned up,” Chester admonished as he crossed the room. He splashed water from the basin into the bowl and held out a threadbare towel.

Zedikiah moved really slowly but took the towel and got to work.

“Do your mama proud.”

Zedikiah stared at him, towel dripping a stream of water into the basin.

“No drink.” He handed the boy the sliver of soap and watched him work it into the towel.

When he finished wiping his face, Chester gestured to him to take off his clothes.

As the morning sun lifted higher in the sky, he scrubbed Zedikiah’s clothes out behind the hotel, until the water ran clear. He wrung out the material and strung the shirt and trousers along a fence. All the while a little clock ticked in his head letting him know he had little time before the sun would be high in the sky and the heat would make his hike to Mercersburg miserable.

Chester returned to his room, the coolness there a welcome respite from the humidity swelling with every passing minute.

Zedikiah sat on the bed, the blanket sheathing his slender frame. He lifted his eyes to Chester. “She left me all alone.”

He had wondered if the boy would respond to his earlier admonitions.

Sorrow drenched Zedikiah’s simple statement. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Not this,” Chester said then mimed raising a bottle to his lips. He shook his head and raised a finger toward the ceiling. “See you. She sad.” He tried the last word again to make it clearer.

Zedikiah shifted, and his hands came out to cup his head. Sobs rolled out in waves.

Chester went to his knees to hold the boy close. How he wished for a tongue fleet with words to tell the boy his story.

Lord?
He sent the silent plea for help and wisdom. How could he make Zedikiah understand?

He gripped the boy’s upper arms and held him. When he caught Zedikiah’s gaze, he pointed at his heart then at Zedikiah’s. “Understand.” Again, he mimed lifting a bottle and pressed a hand to his chest.

The boy’s eyes went wide with surprise. “You drank, too?”

Chester did his best to convey with hand motions and a few words his entire tale, pleased to see Zedikiah’s rapt attention. He ended with the repeated admonition to “Do mama proud.”

The slender form lowered his eyes and scuffed his feet against the bare wood floor. “How?” he mumbled.

Chester reached out to place his hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Be man now. Work hard.” As his tongue gave utterance, a swirl of thoughts frenzied his mind.
He
was his own man. Had been since the day he hovered over his father’s grave and made the decision to leave home. Through the dark days of slavery, he had longed for his family, sure, and he’d found a measure of comfort in going to church.

People offered him comfort. Lily, who had nursed him back after his first whipping, especially thrilled his heart. She had been a strong woman. Beautiful, but matured beyond her years by the work and conditions. Just when he had thought to love her, she had been sold to someone down in Mississippi.

He’d been devastated and had welcomed the new arrival of another slave and the change in position from field-worker to carpenter for the big house. Samuel’s presence had felt like an answer to his prayer for a friend. Someone to offer support and a distraction from the long days. Then the knife had been turned in his gut by Sam’s betrayal.

Somewhere in his days running, he had learned to blame God for that. And though hunted, he was free. His freedom had been assured not by some fancy document with broad promises but by hiding himself day and night. Stealing what he needed.

Chester bowed his head, troubled by it all, and the clock in his mind ticked louder. He squinted into the sunshine streaming through the window. As soon as Zedikiah’s clothes dried, he would leave. First, he would talk to Mr. Shillito. Perhaps the man would be willing to help Zedikiah find work.

“What you mean you’re taking his place?” Marylu sputtered. She eyed Zedikiah and frowned. For all appearances, the boy seemed sober, and the usual reek of alcohol didn’t saturate his clothes. And he was smiling.

“Chester made it work with Mr. Shillito that I could take his place while he took care of some things.”

“He left?”

“Didn’t rightly say where he was going.”

Marylu stared at Zedikiah. She pressed her hands together to still the trembling. “Did he—” She cleared her throat. “Did he tell you to tell me anything?”

Zedikiah bent to haul a trunk onto his back. The weight didn’t allow him to straighten completely. “Nope,” he grunted.

Marylu stepped out of his path but followed him down the steps to the first level and out to the road, where he loaded the heavy trunk into the back of a farm wagon. It amazed her to see the young man bending his back to any work after the many times she had heard reports of storekeepers finding him drunk in front of their shops or in alleys. “You’re doing his job?”

He passed her, nodding his head as he went. “Yes, Miss Marylu.” Zedikiah turned his face away, but she could see the tendons in his jaw jump. “Chester wanted me to have the chance to prove myself. Told me to be my own man. Someone my mama would be proud of.” He sniffed and ran a sleeve across his nose. “Aim to do just that.”

“Then you’ll be needing some help.”

He stared at her, his brows lifted in question. “Help?”

The conviction churned deeper in Marylu’s heart. She didn’t know where Chester was or if he’d ever return, but she felt sure God was telling her to stop chiding this boy and start lifting a hand to help him. She felt the bite of her conscience that she should have stopped chiding him long ago and, instead, offered to help him work out a plan for his future. He was only a boy. A confused and lonely boy.

Why didn’t I see that before?

If he refused her help now and laughed in her face for the tongue-lashings she’d handed out to him, not to mention the time she’d dunked him in that water tank, then she would have to work it through his head how sorry she was for being so blind to his needs. “We’ll start by getting you some new clothes and some food to eat.”

Zedikiah’s nostrils flared, and he glanced away and licked his lips.

Emotion swelled in her throat, and she felt the nudging of the Spirit. “I’m sorry, Zedikiah. Should have been helping you all along instead of being so pleased to make a spectacle of you.” She invited him for supper and made a mental note to work up a new pair of trousers for him.

But biting at her mind hardest was not Zedikiah’s plight but Chester’s departure. Had she pushed him away as Cooper suggested?

When she finally crossed over to Jenny’s shop and opened the back door, she knew immediately that she needed to talk. Jenny would listen and help her see things clearly. She scooted down the short corridor that led to the main room, the voices of customers muffling her desire to burst in and spill all the details, fears, and frustrations.

It took a minute for the voices to register. A man’s voice. Marylu tiptoed and peeked around the corner into the main area of the dress shop.

Jenny sat with a bolt of material in her lap and a smile on her lips as she gazed up into the eyes of Aaron Walck.

It about killed Marylu to stay out of the main room with Aaron there. She wanted so badly to know why he was setting foot in a dress shop. Alone. A thousand possibilities streamed through her mind. Instead of stewing, she decided to take action.

She slipped into the smaller room that was used for the ladies to change and scanned the board wall for knotholes. She’d studied that wall enough to know the pine boards had them scattered all over. She pushed on each knot to see if any would work loose. The first three she tried didn’t budge, but the fourth, far down on the wall, popped out into the room beyond. She held her breath in hopes it wouldn’t make a loud sound as it hit the floor.

She bent her left knee first, careful not to lower herself too fast lest the pain be intense, and sunk to the floor. As soon as she caught a glimpse of Jenny and Aaron, she knew that knot could have clattered and clanged up a storm and they wouldn’t have noticed. How could two people so right for each other not see it for themselves?

Aaron was handing over some coins, and Jenny was taking them with a grateful, pink-cheeked smile. The man cleared his throat. “I hope you have a good day, Miss McGreary.”

“Thank you,” Miss Jenny responded in a breathless rush that made Marylu roll her eyes. “You have a good day, too, Mr. Walck.”

Vexed at having gone to all the trouble to hear their conversation only to catch the end of it, Marylu got vertical and went out into the main room as fast as her legs could carry her.

Jenny gasped at the sight of her. “Marylu!”

“I saw him here, and you’re going to tell me every bit the reason why he came over here.”

Jenny’s eyes went wide, and she covered her pink cheeks with her hands. “I should have known you were spying on us.”

“Not spying.” She sputtered to an indignant stop and realized that she had been spying. “Well, not at first anyhow. Got here and heard his voice. When I peeked and saw it was him, I …”

Jenny looked over her shoulder at the wall behind her and the knothole in the center of the floor. Her eyes smiled up at Marylu. “I thought I heard something fall. I hope you didn’t hurt your knees too much.”

Marylu crossed her arms.

Jenny giggled and rolled up the dark material she had spread across her lap. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw him walk in. But there he was.”

“Your cheeks are pinker than I’ve seen them since you had the fever two years ago.”

She pressed a hand to her face. “Yes, I suppose they are.”

“So you going to tell me what he was doing here, or am I going to have to go ask
him
?”

Jenny released a sigh, and her expression sobered a bit. “It was nothing, really.”

“
Nothing
didn’t seem to be what I was seeing.”

With the bolt in her arms, Jenny got to her feet and replaced it in its spot against one wall. “He said he felt badly about the dress and offered to pay me for the material.”

“Seemed like he said a whole lot more than that in the time he was here.”

“Oh, we talked about the show. He asked me if I was going, and I told him no, that I had work to do.”

“Did he say if he was going?”

Jenny brushed a hand across the striped material of Sally’s dress. “He was. He wanted to see Eddie perform again. He admires the man’s singing.”

“Just like you do.”

“Yes.” There was a wistful clip to Jenny’s voice that wasn’t hard to translate.

“He say if he was going with Sally?”

“No, and I didn’t ask since she already said they were going together.”

“After he saw the way she treated you, I thought maybe he’d be smart and change his mind.”

Jenny shrugged. “Maybe he feels it wouldn’t be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

Marylu snorted.

Jenny made a face at her, but when she lifted the striped material, a wistful expression bloomed.

“You know how much you enjoy hearing that young Baer fellow sing.”

“It’s a minstrel show, so it won’t be all about him.” Mirth played along Jenny’s lips. “And what’s this I hear about you being riled up over Chester?”

“Cooper been running his mouth again?”

Jenny tilted her head. “Cooper cares about you. He always has. And you’re avoiding my question.”

“What question?”

“The one that’s killing you.”

Marylu licked her lips and pulled in a deep breath. “I’m worried about Chester. He left.”

“Then go look for him.”

“I don’t know where he went.”

Jenny laid aside the striped material. “Maybe you had better start from the beginning.” She picked up another piece of plain navy cotton and shook it out. Settling in front of the Singer sewing machine, she worked to position it under the needle and smoothed wrinkles with her fingers. “I’m listening.”

“I thought Cooper filled your ears.”

“Oh, he did, but I want to hear it from you.”

But something stirred around in Marylu’s mind, and she determined to have her say on the matter before launching into the story of Chester. She moved to the wooden table where Jenny had laid the striped material. “Didn’t you say Mr. Walck paid you for the dress Sally left?” She picked up the basted dress and held it up. Since Jenny was slight of form and shorter than Sally, her idea would work. “Yes. He insisted.”