Shifted By The Winds (32 page)

Eddie had been reading almost daily reports in the
Richmond Dispatch
that complained about the militias, but he didn’t care. Not one white gang attack on blacks had happened since the militia went into effect two months earlier. “Keep up the good work,” he called cheerfully. He turned the corner and walked toward his house.

The smell of collard greens and cornbread assaulted him when he opened the door. He took a deep breath, smiling at the warm glow of oil lanterns illuminating his children.

Amber Lou looked up and smiled. “Hi, Daddy!” she called brightly.

Carl scrambled up and raced to give him a hug. “We had some chess pie tonight, Daddy.”

Eddie returned the hug, relieved beyond words that his children’s eyes were no longer shuttered with fear and grief. “Is that right? Did you save me some?”

“No, Daddy…” Carl said, but his dancing eyes told a different story.

“You know that ain’t true!” Amber Lou scolded.

“
Isn’t
true,” Opal corrected as she handed Eddie a plate of hot food.

“Well, it
isn’t
true, either,” Amber Lou answered, her eyes flashing with indignation. “Daddy, you know we wouldn’t eat all the pie!” She glared at Carl.

Carl smirked at her, his face unrepentant. “Why do you have to be so serious all the time, Amber Lou?”

Carl’s question made Eddie’s heart catch. He remembered how cheerful and fun-loving Amber Lou had been as a little girl – back when she had been called just Amber. All the suffering seemed to have sucked it right out of her. She had started to come back to life after the war when they had the restaurant in Philadelphia. Losing the Sadies in the fire, along with Susie and Zeke, had ripped it right back out. Her sister Sadie had insisted on being called Sadie Lou to distinguish her from her best friend.  Amber had added the Lou to her name in honor of her sister.  She refused to let anyone call her by just Amber. The fear seemed to be gone, but he wasn’t sure the dark heaviness that aged her eyes would ever disappear. “Leave your sister alone,” he admonished, and then reached down to pat Amber Lou’s head. “Thanks for making sure I have pie, honey.”

Amber Lou nodded with satisfaction and bent back to her book. She and her cousin Cindy talked all the time about being the first girls in their family to go to college. The two Sadies had made plans to attend, but the restaurant fire had snuffed them out. Amber Lou was determined to fulfill her sister’s desire. Her commitment had ignited a passion for education that no amount of learning seemed to be able to quench. Marietta gave her extra tutoring every chance she had, but Amber Lou kept asking for more.

“How did it go at the factory today?” Opal asked.

“Same as usual,” Eddie responded. “More and more orders are coming in. Thomas knows I want as much overtime as I can get.”

“You getting too tired?” Opal pressed. “Fourteen hours in a day is an awful long time to work.”

Eddie shrugged. “Nothing seems very hard after those years in prison. I’m glad to have the chance to work. Besides, I don’t think I’ll have to do this all my life.” He took a bite of collards and reached for the cornbread slathered in butter, knowing his overtime made it possible for them to eat so well.

Opal and Jewel’s garden had produced a bountiful harvest this year. What they hadn’t eaten lined the walls of the pantry, filled the closets, and was stuffed under every low bed. All the signs said it was going to be another brutal winter, but they shouldn’t go hungry.

Eddie swallowed his bite and asked, “Any luck finding a place for your new restaurant?” Until recently, Opal had worked at the factory, as well.  They had decided she would quit so they could pursue their dream.

Opal frowned and shook her head. “Not yet,” she admitted. “I’d feel a lot safer if it was right here in the quarters, but Miss Abby is still telling me I should put it in the white part of the town because they can afford to eat my food, and also pay higher prices. She says my cooking will pull in a lot of customers. I don’t know, though,” she murmured. “Am I wrong to be afraid?”

“Nope,” Eddie replied. “I think things are going to keep getting better here in the city, but any black person with sense would be afraid.”

“So you think I should put it here in the black quarter?” Opal asked, her voice both hopeful and also faintly disappointed.

Eddie shook his head. “I didn’t say that. Things are changing,” he continued. “I wish sometimes we could hide away and never see a white face again, but that would just mean things gonna be the same for our children.” His gaze drifted toward Amber Lou and Carl hunched over their books. “We want our children to have a better life. That means things have to change.”

“And it means we have to take risks,” Opal agreed, courage blooming on her face again.

“Yep. I’ve been talking with Thomas and Jeremy some. They believe Congress is gonna make things better down here for us.”

“
Going
to,” Amber Lou called from across the room. “They’re not gonna, Daddy. They are
going to
.”

Eddie swallowed a sigh. He was trying hard to undo years of bad habits, but it wasn’t easy. There were times he just got plain disgusted with the necessity to even make the attempt. If white folks looked at him as less than because he didn’t talk as fancy as they did, he didn’t know if he cared.

“It’s not your place to correct your Daddy,” Opal scolded mildly.

“Why not?” Amber Lou asked, her face genuinely puzzled. “You’re correcting
me
all the time.”

Eddie broke in. “I don’t mind you correcting me, Amber Lou. Just know it’s going to be harder for me because I’ve been speaking this way for a real long time.”

“But you’re older, Daddy. Doesn’t that mean you’re smarter?”

Eddie chuckled. “Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn’t. Speaking right isn’t just about being smart. For Opal and me, it means unlearning how we spoke all our lives.” He tried to think of an example she would understand. “How do you get out of bed every morning, Amber Lou?”

Amber Lou stared at him. “I just get out of bed, Daddy.”

“But
how
do you do it?” Eddie asked.

Amber Lou gave him an exasperated look, but she closed her eyes for a moment before they flew back open. “I throw back the covers, I swing my legs over the edge and I stand up.”

Eddie nodded. “What if the floor wasn’t there one day?”

Amber Lou’s look said she questioned his sanity. “The floor will
always
be there.”

“But what if it wasn’t?”

“Then I better get out of bed another way,” Amber Lou said promptly.

“And do you think it would be easy to change that habit of swinging your legs out of bed after doing it for so many years?”

“Of course!” Amber Lou said promptly, but then her face clouded with doubt. “Maybe it would take a
little
while to change,” she admitted.

Eddie waited, watching the thoughts flit across his daughter’s face.

Finally Amber Lou met his eyes. “I see what you’re saying, Daddy. I think it might be real hard to learn a different way to get up every morning. I don’t think about it when I wake up. I just do it.” She paused. “Having to think about what you say all the time must make you real tired.”

“There are times it does,” Eddie replied.

Amber Lou stared at him for a long moment, remorse flooding her eyes. She jumped up and ran to throw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I won’t say anything else. I promise!””

Eddie shook his head. “That’s not why I said that to you. I want to learn how to speak right. I don’t mind if you correct me, but it’s important you do it with compassion and understanding.” He tilted her chin up until their eyes met. “It’s real easy to judge people, Amber Lou. The world don’t need more of that, honey.”

“
Doesn’t
need,” Amber Lou replied, her eyes twinkling. “And I promise I won’t judge people.”

Eddie laughed. “The world
doesn’t
need any more judgement, Amber Lou.” He would take every opportunity he could to drill that into her.

Abby snuggled into the blanket covering her and Thomas, savoring the feel of the cool breeze that rustled leaves just beginning to take on the colors of fall that always delighted her. They had come out to the porch swing to enjoy the beautiful night. She grasped Thomas’ hand more tightly and leaned into his shoulder, sighing with contentment when he leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

The militias had brought peace to more than the black quarter. Because so many of the men in the quarter worked at Cromwell Factory, the militias always posted at least ten of their men around the building, and also made sure one of the armed men went everywhere with Abby, Thomas and Jeremy. Their strategy had worked. The tight fear that had almost suffocated her all summer had released its hold—just as summer had bowed in submission to fall. She could still feel tension in the air, and she knew the South was moving into more troubled times after the Congressional elections, but she no longer felt the threat aimed directly at her or those she loved. She was sure there were people who still wished them harm, but she felt protected.

Thanks to her and Marietta’s efforts, the cholera impact was not as terrible as feared.  There were people who had died, but the number was much smaller than they had envisioned when it first struck.  The first hard frosts would end it.  Until then they would keep educating people on how to keep from falling ill.  The people in the black quarters had no idea how much they owed to Carrie for all the instructions she had sent from Philadelphia.

“I can hardly wait to go out to the plantation,” Abby murmured. She had been anticipating the Harvest Celebration since the moment she had received notice.

“I hope Carrie and the girls will be able to join us,” Thomas replied.

“I got a letter from Carrie today. She is certain they will be able to get away, since they had to return to Philadelphia so early this summer after the cholera outbreak.” She spoke lightly, but she felt Thomas raise his head to look down on her.

“But…?”

Abby sighed. “Must you always know my every thought?”

“Evidently. Unless you decide to work a little harder to hide them,” Thomas replied.

Abby shook her head. “That requires far too much energy, and besides, I rather like being known this well.”

“So…?” Thomas prompted.

“It wasn’t anything Carrie said in her letter,” Abby said. “It was more of a feeling I got that something is going on up there.”

“Some kind of trouble?” Thomas asked.

“No,” Abby assured him. “I just got the feeling that things are changing for her. And really, Thomas, it’s just a feeling. There was absolutely nothing in her letter that indicated that, or that gave me reason for alarm.”

“Just more of that women’s intuition,” Thomas said dryly.

Abby grinned. “It does seem to be rather effective.”

“I can’t argue with that. Besides, Carrie doesn’t seem to be happy unless things are changing. She seems to thrive on it.”

Abby wasn’t sure if Thomas’ voice indicated pleasure or displeasure at the thought. “Independent women prefer to call it ‘remaining flexible to the seasons of life,’ ” she said coyly. “Remember what Janie’s grandmother told her – that it’s usually in the winds of change that we find our direction? I find I love the idea of shifting with the wind.”

She felt Thomas’ sudden tension release as he laughed. “Oh, do you? Isn’t that just a way of justifying being a natural rebel and never doing the things people expect of you?”

“Well, certainly!” Abby said. “It’s why you love your daughter, and it’s why you fell in love with me. You can pretend you don’t like it, but then you’ll have to explain why you have surrounded yourself with women who do just that.” She leaned back to glare at him.

“Other women are boring,” Thomas chuckled, pulling her back close to his side. “Carrie will tell us what is going on when she gets here. Until then, we can just wonder.”

“I’m far too busy for that,” Abby responded. “Rose sent me a letter asking me to design the awards for the tournament. She wants them to be quite elaborate. I’m having fun creating them.”