A Perilous Proposal (27 page)

It was dead silent. All you could hear was our feet shuffling along the dry ground as we went back to where we'd left off and then slowly began inching our way from one plant to the next.

“Yep,” Henry finally said, “eben wiff dose clouds up dere, a body cud git mighty tard in dese ole fields er cotton.”

Again it was quiet, with just our feet moving slowly along the ground.

“Yep,” he said again, “dis ole cotton'll make yo han's ruff an' red an' full er prickles. Ain't da kind er work
mos' white folks eber done. Ain't dat right, Miz Kathleen? Right unushul work fer mos' white folks!”

“Yes, sir,” mumbled Katie, keeping her head down.

Again we shuffled along in silence.

“Who's dis yere frien' er yers, Miz Kathleen?” he said, looking toward Emma. “Who you be?”

Emma glanced toward Katie with big eyes of question. Katie nodded for her to speak up.

“Dat's right,” said Henry. “You kin tell me. I'm jes' a colored like you what ain't gwine hurt you nohow.”

“Emma,” said Emma. “My name's Emma.”

“Emma . . . I see. So dere's Miz Kathleen, Miz Mayme, an' Miz Emma all workin' out chere togeder, sometimes wiff a boy called Jeremiah helpin' 'em, ain't dat right? Mighty strange situashun it 'peers ter me.”

There was a long silence. None of us knew what to say. Every now and then I'd try to sneak a look over at him.

He paused and looked up, shielding his hand from the sun peeking through the clouds. “Gettin' kinder 'long tards da time mos' folks take er break from dere work,” he said. “You ladies knows how ter fix a man somefin t' eat?”

“Uh . . . yes, sir,” said Katie.

“Den I say we go t' yer house an' git somefin t' eat an' drink.”

Without asking us any more questions, Henry straightened his back and stood up and started walking out of the field toward the wagon. Katie and I looked at each other, both of us silently saying, What do we do now!

Slowly we followed him. He dumped the cotton out of his satchel into the wagon, then walked off toward the house. Emma retrieved William from the buckboard and hung back behind the rest of us. Still not
saying anything, we followed him and gradually he slowed down so we could catch up.

“An' a young'un too,” he said as he saw Emma. “My, oh my . . . yes, sir, dis indeed be some kine er mighty unushul situashun.”

I saw Henry glance over at the four graves as we approached the house. He hesitated for a second, but followed the rest of us inside. There he stood standing until Katie told him he could sit down. Finally he sat down at the table.

“Now, Miz Kathleen,” he said, then looked over at me, “an' Miz Mayme, ah seen dem stones markin' what looks ter me like graves out dere, an' ah got me an idea. But ah'd rather hear you tell me 'bout it yo'selfs.”

Slowly Katie started to cry.

Henry waited a minute.

“Yo mama and daddy's lyin' under dem stones, ain't dey, Miz Kathleen?” he said quietly.

“Yes!” she whispered softly.

Henry got up from the chair and ambled toward us. He took Katie in his arms now and held her as I stepped back. Seeing how much he loved her made me realize he hadn't been trying to be mean with all his questions.

“It's gwine be all right, Miz Kathleen,” said Henry. “Da Lord's watchin' ober you, an' He ain't 'bout ter ferget none er His chilluns—white, black, or any udder color.”

Then Henry looked over at me.

“What 'bout you, girl?” he said. “Yo mama an' daddy dead too?”

I nodded.

“Was dey Rosewood slaves?”

“No, sir . . . I lived at the McSimmons place.”

“Ah see,” he nodded. “An' you?” he asked Emma.

“I don' know 'bout my mama and daddy,” she said. “Dey wuz sold an' I wuz sold an' I don' eben hardly remember dem. I ain't got no notion where dey is.”

“Wha'chu doin' here?”

“I got myself in a heap er trouble an' I ran away an' Miz Katie an' Mayme, dey helped me.”

“I see . . . well den, come here all er you,” he said, opening one of his hands toward me and Emma. “I reckon dese ole black arms is big enuff ter hol' all er you at once.”

I went forward and he drew me toward him. I felt Katie's arm go around me too, and the three of us stood there for a few seconds in Henry's wide embrace. Emma followed and started blubbering like a baby.

It was such a relief having Henry hug us. He wasn't mad at all, like I'd expected him to be. I don't know why, but he was as compassionate as could be.

Finally we stepped away and Henry went back to the chair where he'd been sitting.

“What happened, Miz Kathleen?” he said.

“Some terrible men came, men on horses . . . they were shooting and killing.”

“Where wuz you?”

“In the cellar.”

Henry nodded. “I heard 'bout dem marauders, dey was called. How 'bout you, Miz Mayme?”

“The same men killed most all the slaves at the McSimmons place,” I answered.

“When all dis happen?”

“Last April,” said Katie.

Henry nodded again, then looked at Emma.

“Emma ran away from where she was,” said Katie, answering his silent question. “There were people trying to kill her because of her baby.”

Henry nodded again and then it got real quiet for a minute or so.

“Are you going to tell on us, Henry?” said Katie. “Are you going to get us in trouble?”

“Well, I don' rightly know,” he said. “Tell what? What is it dat you's so feared er folks findin' out dat y'all gotta sneak roun' town pretendin' an' carryin' on like y'all been doin'?”

“We're . . . we're trying to make people think my mama's still alive,” said Katie.

“Why's dat?”

“So they won't put me in an orphanage and take Mayme away.”

“What 'bout yo kin?” he asked. “As I recollect, yo papa's got a brudder somewheres?”

“Yes, sir,” said Katie. “But I'm not sure exactly where he is, and I don't like him.”

Henry glanced back and forth between us all again, seemed satisfied for the time being, and sat for a minute or two thinking.

I finally got up and got us all some milk and cheese and bread and butter to eat. Nobody said too much. We were still anxious to know what Henry was thinking, and Henry just kept thinking and hardly saying a word.

After we had finished eating, he rose back up to his feet.

“Well, I got me some work I gotter tend to back at da livery,” he said.

“What are you going to do, Henry?” Katie asked again as we walked. “Are you going to tell on us?”

“I don' rightly know yet, Miz Kathleen,” he said. “Who wud I tell, an' what wud I tell 'em? Afore I do anyfing, ah needs ter spen' some time ruminatin' an' prayin' an' axin' da Lord what He thinks 'bout dis whole
thing. It's da Lord who tells me what I'm ter do. So I got ter fix mysel' on what His mind is on it—den I'll know what I'm ter do.”

We watched him go, but didn't talk much amongst ourselves after he was gone either. Like she was with her uncle, I think in a way Katie was relieved that Henry finally knew.

R
AIN

38

T
HE NEXT MORNING, JEREMIAH GOT UP EARLY AND
set out for Rosewood at dawn. When he arrived, Mayme was just leading the cows out after the morning milking. He waved to her and she waved back.

“You're here early,” she said, giving him a big smile as she walked over to meet him.

“My daddy tol' me what's goin' on wiff you and Miz Katie,” he said. “An' he said you's needin' mo help wiff de cotton.”

Half an hour later they were all out again in the field. Everyone seemed glad not to have to pretend anymore. Jeremiah noticed right away that Mayme smiled and laughed more, now that she didn't have to watch her words to protect their secret. Katie and Emma were in especially good spirits too. Even Jeremiah himself was more talkative than usual.

But it was chilly and windy. Dust was flying about getting in their hair and eyes. Every now and then Jeremiah would look up into the sky and shake his head.

That evening Henry came out again. With Jeremiah and his papa working, the cotton mounted twice as fast. The next day they both came out a little before lunchtime, and they finished the field the girls had begun a month ago and got
started on another even bigger one a little farther from the house.

All the while as they worked that day it got chillier and chillier and windier. Henry kept picking faster and faster and was mumbling to himself as he glanced up at the clouds swirling above them.

Gradually they began to feel the moisture in the air. They kept working frantically, nobody saying a word.

Suddenly the wind stopped. The air became calm and still.

Henry looked around in every direction, sniffing in the air and still muttering.

“Hit's comin',” he finally said aloud. “Hit's comin' fo sho.—Jeremiah!” he called. “We gotter git dis yere wagon hitched up!”

Jeremiah looked at Mayme and without another word both started running for the barn to fetch a horse.

Suddenly a terrific blast of thunder exploded above them.

“Hurry, Jeremiah—we ain't got no time ter lose.—Miz Kathleen,” Henry called to Katie, “come wiff me . . . we gots ter git dat wagon under cover!”

Within seconds a few huge drops of rain began to fall. Jeremiah and Mayme reached the barn ahead of Henry and Katie, who were hurrying as quickly as they could. Mayme led Jeremiah to the corral. Three minutes later they were racing back to the field with horse and harness. Henry and Katie were hitching up another horse to pull the full wagon of cotton into the barn and out of the rain.

As Jeremiah and Mayme fussed with the harness, already their faces were wet. Mayme jumped up onto the seat and grabbed the reins. Jeremiah leapt up beside her. She yelled at the horse, and off they clattered toward the house. The rain poured down in torrents. By the time they flew into the wide open doors of the barn, they were soaked to the skin. Mayme's dress was clinging to her, and water was dripping
from her hair and ears and chin and nose. The two horses were in a frenzy of excitement from the rain and thunder and sudden exertion and the close quarters of the barn. Henry hurried to them and began talking to them and stroking their noses one at a time while Jeremiah and Mayme unfastened the harnesses and got them free from the wagons.

Ten minutes later the horses were in their stalls munching on oats. Katie ran back from the house with a handful of towels, and they all dried their hands and faces. She was still not aware of the danger. But Henry was running his hand through the cotton, pulling out handful after handful to feel how wet it was. Gradually Katie must have realized that his expression was serious.

“It's all right, isn't it, Henry?” she asked.

“I reckon we got it in time,” he said thoughtfully. “I reckon Mr. Watson'll take it.”

He sighed and walked to the big open doors and took a couple steps outside where he stood and stared out. The rain was pouring down in sheets.