Stella by Starlight (19 page)

30

Stella rode home with her family in a daze, not sure what had really happened. She heard a loud droning sound and glanced up.

“Look, Stella, look!” Jojo said, pointing. “An airplane!”

“Well, that's the cat's pajamas,” Mama said, shielding her eyes.

Papa pointed as well, but in the opposite direction. “I'm lookin' at that eagle, flying low and slow. I 'spect he's not happy about an airplane takin' over his space.”

Stella watched the eagle circle and glide, and thought back to Spoon Man's story.

“I bet you felt like you were gonna pass out at
church,” Jojo teased her once both the airplane and eagle had flown out of view.

“I almost did!” Stella agreed. “But then you dropped that marble, and folks looked at you instead.”

“About those marbles . . . ,” Mama began.

Papa interrupted gently. “Leave the boy alone, Georgia. Today is Stella's day. I get a good feelin' right here when I think about what you did, Stella girl,” he said, tapping his chest.

“ 'Cause she didn't upchuck or faint?” Jojo asked.

“No, silly. Because she was brave.”

“But I really wasn't, Papa,” Stella insisted. “I just figured out where Hazel was hiding.”

“Ah, but you pushed away your fear in order to figure, that's what you did,” Papa said. “Speaking of which, I think the preacher did a fine job getting rid of the anger and fear this morning.”

Mama drummed her fingers on her knees. “But he never really gave any answers about what to
do
about the Klan.”

“There are no answers,” Papa said. “You just gotta keep goin' for your family, like the pastor told us. Sometimes bravery is just doin' what you gotta do.”

They weren't home five minutes—Mama hadn't even had time to stoke the fire—when Dusty began to growl. A knock on the door followed. Dusty jumped up, barking fiercely. The dog didn't recognize whoever was at the door. Stella, alarmed, ran to quiet him, but he broke away, his hair standing up in stiff tufts on his back.

Her father swung the door open while Stella grabbed the dog more tightly this time.

“How do,” Papa said in his deep voice.

Stella tiptoed behind him to see. She didn't recognize the two mousy white women who stood there.

Clearing her throat, the first woman practically squeaked as she said, “My name is Annie Lou Summers, and we are looking for Mrs. Mills. We heard, well, we heard, um, that she could direct us to the Spencer family.”

“And I'm her sister, Mary Lou,” the second lady said, hardly speaking any louder. “We are here from the Bumblebee Baptist Church.”

Stella's mother hurried over to the door. “Come in, ladies,” she said cordially. “Don't let our dog frighten you. We just got home from church services ourselves. Please
come and sit a spell.” Her mother offered them both a chair at the table. “Would you like some sweet tea?”

“Oh, you're very kind, but no, thank you,” the ladies said almost at the same time. “We will be leavin' directly.” They glanced nervously from corner to corner. Stella wondered what they thought of their house, then decided she didn't care.

The first woman, Annie Lou, told Stella's mother, “We heard about the terrible fire last night, and the women of our church decided we want to help that poor family whose house was destroyed.”

Stella's first thought was to wonder if they knew any of the Klan members. She figured they probably did, probably went to church with some of them. Then she chastised herself for thinking mean thoughts—after all, these ladies were here to help.

Mary Lou added, “We've brought food, plus we have collected a pile of clothes for the children. And some pots and dishes and aprons for the lady of the house. It's all sitting out front in our automobile.”

“Mrs. Spencer will be very pleased,” Stella's mother said graciously. “It's mighty kind of you all.”

“We'd like to do more . . . all those children. . . ,”
Mary Lou said, looking as if she wasn't quite sure what to say. “We just wanted to make sure they wouldn't, um, they wouldn't be offended, um . . .”

Stella almost smiled at their discomfort, but her mother filled in smoothly. “The Spencers will be very thankful for whatever you and the kind women of your church have to offer.”

“The ladies decided they would try to be a blessing to the family, because of, uh, because of . . .” Now Annie Lou's cheeks blushed bright pink.

Stella started wondering what she would feel like in
their
living room.

“Well-a-mercy, we hear there are
thirteen
children!” Mary Lou finished for her sister, who was now fanning herself with her handkerchief.

“That's true,” Stella's mother confirmed. “Would you like to meet them? They're staying in a house right next door for now. I'll walk over yonder with you.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you kindly!” Annie Lou said, standing up quickly. Both she and her sister looked extremely relieved the conversation was over.

“These here are my children, Estelle and Jonah,” Mama said.

“Would you two like to join us?” Annie Lou asked.

Stella and Jojo were at the door before the words were out of her mouth.

“Can we, Mama?” Stella asked.

“Yes, but leave the dog here. And mind your manners!”

“Yes, M'am.”

“We'll help you ladies tote stuff,” Jojo told them.

“Why, thank you, young man,” Mary Lou said, smiling.

Stella wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. “Uh, do you think there's a chance we could maybe have a ride in your motorcar?”

“Stella!” her mother said sharply. “I'll have none of that!”

But Mary Lou seemed to understand. “I'll make sure you get a ride down the road before we leave,” she whispered as they whisked out the door.

Stella was in heaven.

31

After she helped her mother wash and put away the dishes, Stella curled up on her bed and pulled out her notebook. Her family paid no attention to her scribblings, and Stella surprised even herself—today she could hardly wait to write down what had happened.

RIDING IN A CAR

Two white ladies let me and Jojo ride in a car today. Miss Mary Lou said it was a Model A. Nothing in Bumblebee smells that rich—nothing. I kept my hands balled into fists so I couldn't
axidentlly
accidentally touch the wrong thing and get it dirty.

Jojo
touched
ran his fingers over everything. He even rolled the window up and down with the knob on the
side door
passenger door.

It roared. Loud enough so that everyone on Riverside Road could hear. They all came outside to see us. Dust blew up around us as Miss Mary Lou stepped on the gas pedal and
galloped
zoomed down the road. She even blew the horn! It sounded like “Ga-OOH-uh. Ga-OOh-uh!”

I wonder if
cars
automobiles will ever replace horses and buggies. Some people say so, but I don't think it can happen. How can a fancy car go through the fields and help a farmer plant or pick?

And what would all the horses do?

32

All week the donations trickled in for the Spencer family, coming from the Riverside Road folks, as well as from the larger community. Another white church in Bumblebee sent a couple of boxes of goods, as well as both Negro churches in Bumblebee, and even one in Spindale. Clothes, food, bedding, shoes—everything a family could need—was thoughtfully and quietly left for them on Stella's porch or at the doorstep of what was once her grandma's house. Even building supplies started to pile up. Nails. Tar paper. Plaster. A sawhorse. Hammers and other tools. Wood. Wood. And more wood.

As another stack of two-by-fours landed by her porch, Stella couldn't help but think about how folks
had come together when Spoon Man showed up. This time, however, they managed to do a cook-up for a whole house! Nobody had everything, but everybody had something to offer.

Mrs. Spencer knocked on their door several days later, a good-size box in
her
arms. “Mornin', Georgia,” she said, setting the box on the table. Stella, braiding her hair into cornrows, came close.