A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton (10 page)
I
RODE FOR A WHILE BUT SUDDENLY REALIZED I
was really tired. I suppose emotions tire you out as much as hard work or anything else, and I’d sure been through a lot of them today. First being nervous about sneaking back to the McSimmons plantation, then seeing Josepha and what she’d told me, then encountering the master, and then everything that had happened in Oakwood.
All at once I was plumb wore out. And hungry and thirsty too. I thought I could do with a rest.
I didn’t want to wait till I came to the river, which was about halfway back. I had seen a stream following the road on and off, so I started looking for it and it wasn’t long till I came to it again. I led the horse off the road and down toward it where there was a little clump of trees and some grass for the horse to eat.
I found a nice spot. Both the horse and I had a long drink from the stream. Then while he was munching away at the grass, I got out Josepha’s little cloth with the bread and cheese in it. I sat down and had as pleasant a meal as anyone could imagine.
When I was through I glanced about. It was pretty late in the afternoon by now. Katie was probably fixing her supper by now and the sun was on its way down. I figured I had another good two or three hours of daylight left, plenty of time if I cantered part of the way and didn’t waste any time.
But stopping and sitting down and eating had made me so sleepy I couldn’t imagine getting back up on that horse’s back again. Maybe I’d just take a short little nap to get my energy back before going the rest of the way.
I lay down in the soft grass, feeling about as happy and content as I had felt since my family had been killed. I got drowsy and then slowly closed my eyes.
I must have been more tired than I realized, because when I woke up it was the middle of the night sometime. I sat up suddenly, remembering that I needed to get back home. But I knew instantly that there was no use of that. It was pitch black. There was no moon anywhere in the sky, and I didn’t want to risk trying to find my way in the dark.
I didn’t know the way well enough and who knew where I’d wind up.
There was nothing to do but go back to sleep, which I did easily enough, even though I was hungry again and a mite cold.
The next thing I knew, a snorty, fleshy nose was sniffing around at my face. It woke me up with a start. The sun was back up and Katie’s horse was letting me know that it was time to get started back toward home where his trough of oats was waiting for him.
I got myself up and stretched out the kinks. By now I was
really
hungry, but there wouldn’t be anything to eat till I walked into the kitchen back at Rosewood. So there wasn’t any sense wasting any more time. I took a big drink of water, and then we got back on the road.
I pushed the poor horse a mite harder than maybe I should have, but I knew we were both anxious to get back. I was mighty relieved when I finally saw the buildings of Rosewood up ahead.
“Miss Katie!” I called as we galloped in and stopped at the back of the house. “Miss Katie … I’m back!”
I ran into the kitchen, expecting to find her there. But it was empty.
“Miss Katie!” I hollered up the stairs. “Miss Katie, you up there?”
There was no answer. The whole house was quiet, so I knew she wasn’t inside. But from the fire and the look of things, it hadn’t been long since she’d been there. Then all of a sudden I realized something else—I didn’t hear Emma and William anywhere either!
Then I really started to get worried. What could have happened to them?
They must have all gone someplace … but where?
I walked back outside. Maybe she was out in the barn, I thought, and hadn’t heard me ride in, although I didn’t know how that could be.
I led the tired horse across the entryway and to the stables, looking all around as I went.
“Miss Katie!” I called into the barn. “You in there … Emma!”
But there was no sign of them. The cows weren’t there either, so she must have milked them and gotten them out to pasture all right.
I unsaddled the horse, got him some fresh oats, and left him to look around some more. I’d brush him down later.
Where could they be?
I stood in the middle of the yard between the house and barn and looked all around. It was completely quiet. Now for the first time I noticed that the dogs weren’t around either. That’s what made it so quiet. Then it struck me that they were probably down at the slave cabins! That must be it. She was probably setting another fire to get it ready. And maybe showing Emma what to do, or maybe fixing a place for her to hide with William if any men came looking for her.
I turned and ran down the road, then turned off to the right toward the colored town, and was there in about three minutes.
“Miss Katie!” I called. “Miss Katie … you in there? I’m home, Miss Katie.”
But if anything it was even quieter here than back at the house. And she sure wasn’t there.
I walked back up the hill to the road, then back toward the house, hoping against hope that this time when I got there I’d see Katie waiting for me. But I didn’t.
Now I was downright worried.
I frantically ran everywhere all about the place, into every building, all through the house and barn. But she just wasn’t anywhere.
What could have happened to her?
Suddenly I remembered Katie’s secret place in the woods. That had to be where she was!
I tore off running and didn’t stop till I was standing there in the little wood with the stream running past my feet.
But it was completely quiet. There wasn’t any sign of Katie or the dogs.
“God,” I prayed, and I was more than nervous now, I was really scared, “please help me find them.”
I ran back to the house, again hoping that somehow she would have appeared while I was gone to the woods.
But Katie was still gone. There was no sign of her anywhere.
Again I walked back through the house. I stopped in the middle of the parlor and sort of half cried out, half said to myself, “Oh, Miss Katie … where’d you go?”
All of a sudden I heard a noise like a stick rapping against something. Then I heard a muffled voice.
It was coming from the cellar right below me!
I stepped away, pulled back the carpet, and opened the trapdoor in the floor. A flicker of light came from below. Then I heard the sound of a baby and a familiar voice.
“Dat be you, Miz Mayme? Please, God, I hope dat’s you!”
“It’s me, Emma … it’s me!” I called down the hole. “But what’s going on? Where’s Katie?”
Emma’s face now appeared in the thin, flickering light, looking up at me from down in the cellar.
“She put me an’ William down here, Miz Mayme,” she said. “Somebody came an’ she had ter go wiff dem an’ she put us down here so nuthin’ would happen ter us or nobody fin’ me.”
“Who came, Emma … who was it?”
“I don’ know, Miz Mayme. But look what I foun’ down here.” She came a few steps up the ladder and held up her hand. “What is it, Miz Mayme?”
I saw a sparkle of color in her palm and reached down and took what she was holding—three heavy coins. I expect my eyes got as big as Katie’s sometimes did.
“It’s gold, Emma,” I said. “I think these are gold.”
Now I figure I oughta tell you what had happened while I was away.
T
HE NIGHT BEFORE I LEFT, I TOLD KATIE I’D STAY
to help get the cows milked before leaving in the morning. But she said she wanted to try to do it all herself. She might have to learn sometime, she said, and she wanted to see if she could do it. At first I’d had my doubts. But then I realized she was probably right. The more she could do for herself, the better, in case someday something happened to me.
After I left the next morning, Katie had gone to the barn first thing to get started. It took her a lot longer than it did me, two hours to get them all milked. But she did it, and I think she was proud of herself.
Then she opened the gate and led the cows out onto the road and into the pasture where we were taking them for grazing. Once cows learn a routine of doing something, they keep doing it over and over. Those cows knew to follow along right behind her out to whichever of the grazing pastures she led them. When they were in the field, she closed the gate behind them and walked back to the house. I can just imagine that she had a smile on her face too. She was all alone at Rosewood—well, Emma was still back in the house, but alone without me—and she was taking care of things!
She said she was already a little tired from the milking. So she took off her milking boots and went into the kitchen to have some breakfast bread and milk. She built a fire in the cook stove, then boiled some water and made a batch of corn mush for herself and Emma, who was up with William by then.
After they had cleaned William up and Emma had fed him and eaten her own breakfast, Katie then set about the morning’s chores that she and I usually did ourselves. She went back out to the barn, got oats for the horses, then brought water in a bucket to mix with the dried oats and corn to make mush in the pig trough. Stirring up the pig mush was always hard. The pigs were always so anxious, snorting and crowding around and sticking their snouts in and even stepping in the trough while you were trying to mix it up, so you couldn’t get it all stirred before they were all over the place making a terrible mess of it. Sometimes you had to rap them over the head or in the nose to make them get back. They’d squeal and make such a fuss but would come right back and start all over. I can’t hardly imagine how Katie managed it, but she did.
After that she brought several loads of firewood and kindling into the kitchen, collected the eggs from the chicken coop, then cleaned up her breakfast things. She wasn’t going to do any butter churning or any of the bigger things we had to do regularly when I was gone. And so that was about all there was for her to do for a while in the way of morning chores.
Once all that was done she started to get a little lonely, and then a little scared. She said it wasn’t the same with me gone. Even though Emma was there, it was like being alone, because she knew if anything happened she’d have to take care of it herself. And that was her main worry—what to do if someone came. But there wasn’t any way to know if someone would, or how to plan for it. She’d already decided that if somebody came that she knew, like Mrs. Hammond or Mr. Thurston or the iceman or somebody like that, then she would just put Emma in the cellar and hide herself until they went away, then answer questions later. But she wanted to have a fire burning and laundry on the line so everything would look normal, just like we’d planned.
If people she didn’t know came, she didn’t know what she’d do.
But nobody came and the day wore on. She tried to keep herself busy, and with Emma following her about fretting and talking, it wasn’t too hard. But by early afternoon she was starting to look down the road quite a bit, hoping she’d see me coming. When I still hadn’t come by late afternoon, she was getting nervous. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it. So she went out and led the cows back home again and took care of the evening milking.
By the time that was over, she was really tired and getting more and more worried about why I wasn’t back. She washed up and fixed herself and Emma something to eat, though she said she hardly had enough energy to, then played the piano to try to cheer herself up.
She said it didn’t work. Even with Emma chattering away, it just reminded her all the more that I wasn’t there.
Finally it started to get dark. And I still hadn’t come home. She didn’t have any choice in the end but to get Emma and William settled for the night, though William wouldn’t sleep all the way till morning, and then get ready for bed herself. She sat down in a chair and kept listening for sounds, hoping she’d hear the horse and me. But she didn’t, and the crickets and other night sounds made the waiting all the worse.
Finally she dozed off, then woke up again.
Since I still wasn’t back, she got under her blankets and went to bed for real. Since she was still sleepy from just waking up, it made it easier not to worry, though she kept the kerosene lamp burning bright all night so she wouldn’t be afraid of being alone in the dark.
