Good Fortune (9781416998631) (46 page)

“We agreed she'd teach you, Anna. It was her suggestion, at first, for me to talk to you about it. Perhaps she doesn't want you to know this, but I don't think, in her heart, she wants you running down the same path I chose to run down.”

“Well, Mr. Caldwell, I feel like I'm warned well enough.”

He laughed and leaned farther back in the seat. “I'm not so sure about that.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked quickly, ready to defend myself.

“As I told you already, I haven't seen many people like you. You have to be some kind of perfectly cut gem to come into this household, anyway, as a student under my wife. But there's something in you I see in myself. It's dangerous business, Anna, using education to make direct statements in society, and you don't have the benefit I have.”

“And what's that benefit?”

“Different identities. Not that it makes it much less dangerous. Poor folks don't like educated people. But they'll listen, if you're not talking to the ones who know about your black blood.”

“I don't really think that matters much for me right
now, Mr. Caldwell. I got my mind set on learning, an' I ain't—or, I'm not—thinking about too much else.”

“Well, I believe that's where your mind should be set now.”

I nodded. “But, Mr. Caldwell, you know, even after all you've gone through, sounds like you're still part of that dangerous business you talk of.”

The gleam in his eye suggested he was holding back a secret, but I couldn't question him further. Mrs. Rosa came down with the giggling child and placed her in Mr. Caldwell's arms when she reached out for him.

“Only for a few minutes, Caldwell. She should be long past asleep.” Mr. Caldwell glanced quickly at his wife, a pout in his eyes but a small smile on his lips. I watched him play with the child as Mrs. Rosa sat to finish her food.

Mr. Caldwell's conversation that followed lightened as we talked about the months I had spent with Mrs. Rosa since I had spoken with him the first time. We talked about Hadson—the people, the ways of life, the issues. Little Sue insisted on being handed from one parent to the other, until she fell asleep again in her father's arms.

“Mr. Caldwell, what is it you do?” I asked as we finished our meal. He and Mrs. Rosa shared a quick but significant glance I could only attempt to understand. Then Mrs. Rosa looked over at me, ready to speak on her husband's behalf.

“He's, well … Caldwell works with money. That's what he's good at. Actually”—Mrs. Rosa paused, and her expression shifted to a look that reminded me of our
weekly lessons—“perhaps it's best not to explain much about that. Some things even I don't know about,” she said with a small frown, turning to Mr. Caldwell. “But it's what we agreed to.”

“Again, Anna, don't let her fool you. Anything and everything I do is done with her permission.” They seemed to be speaking to each other, instead of to me.

“Most things, at least,” she responded, her frown relaxing.

Mr. Caldwell chuckled and turned back to me, shaking his head. “Perhaps the simple answer to your question, Anna, would be that I take care of the financial matters of some of the businesses in and around the city.”

I nodded, wishing for a better explanation but knowing I had already gotten the only answer I could expect.

“We live so that his work never intertwines with his family. He disappears from here the mornings that he's home, and he returns at night, as he did today. Not many folks know who he really is,” Mrs. Rosa said, looking over at him.

“Or about us,” she added. “Caldwell acts as white in Dayton and the other places he travels to, and he doesn't really come around Hadson very often.” The baby shifted, and Mrs. Rosa sent Mr. Caldwell a look of dissatisfaction. But he had long since won the battle of keeping the child at the table with him.

“All the folks in Dayton think he's white?” I asked. There was another shared glance and a slight nod.

“So at the schoolhouse, Mr. Caldwell—”

“Yes, they think so at the schoolhouse, too.”

By this time, we had finished eating, and I had been sitting back in my chair, my arms crossed.

“But, Mr. Caldwell, you saw how the woman treated me. Why didn't you … why didn't you stop that?”

“Anna, please don't be naïve,” he said, my comment appearing to have touched a sensitive nerve. “To them, I am a white man. There are social rules that apply. Reacting strictly from my feelings could put me in the jailhouse, or worse.”

I felt my cheeks grow warm, and I looked down at the table. “I'm sorry, Mr. Caldwell.”

“No, don't apologize. I understand, Anna, I really do. I understood then, and that's what brought me rushing home to see what Rose thought about you. And I understand now, and that's why you're sitting here with us tonight.”

We spoke on for at least another hour and a half. The two of them made me feel like I was part of something important, something loving and beautiful.

Soon enough, however, it was time for me to leave. Mr. Caldwell walked with me to the door, still cuddling Little Sue in one of his arms.

“Before you leave, I want to give you something I think you'll like. I know what I've been telling you about how to use education—all the warnings I've given—but listening and talking with you at the table, I have a strong feeling you'll appreciate this.” As he spoke, he reached into his shirt pocket with his free hand, and pulled out a small booklet. But he had chosen the wrong moment to share it.

“Caldwell, not that, not now, please!” Mrs. Rosa said as she entered the room, almost pleading, watching him open the booklet. I saw his slanted writing covering the pages.

“I'm writing another book, Anna. I'm going to do this one right, though.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Mrs. Rosa shake her head.

“Rose thinks I'm a complete fool,” he said, waving the open booklet her way.

“You are, Caldwell. Now put that away, would you?”

He forced out a theatrical sigh and slipped it back into his pocket, then turned to me.

“I would have loved for you to look at it, but”—he nodded toward Mrs. Rosa—“it seems I have little say-so in the matter. But, Anna, I've been attending those community meetings Hadson has every now and then. You know these—I realized you spotted me on one occasion.” I nodded and he continued. “They have some interesting points that should be written up in a book of some sort. What do you think about that?”

“I think that's a fine idea, Mr. Caldwell.”

He nodded, shut the book, and turned to Mrs. Rosa with a sly smile. “I'm finished, Rose. I just felt it was necessary to share that before she left.”

Mrs. Rosa pursed her lips and said, “Sure, but I would like your views and your business to stay with you. It's not safe water to tread in, and there's no use in warning others about those waters just to show that you're wading in deep yourself.”

He laughed. “I just showed it to her, that was all,” he said. “And look! I think it's about time to take this little one off to bed. Miss Anna”—he held out his free hand for me to shake—“it was wonderful meeting you in an appropriate time and place. You are one smart young woman. I wish for you the very best.”

“Thank you, Mr. Caldwell,” I said, shaking his hand.

“You're more than welcome.”

“Anna,” Mrs. Rosa said, embracing me as Mr. Caldwell went upstairs, “it was a pleasure to have you over.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Rosa.”

“I know I don't really have to say this to you, but Caldwell, the real Caldwell, isn't a known man. He convinced me that he felt comfortable making himself known to you, and I was fine with that. Anita knows some things, and we have friends who understand, but that's all. I would appreciate it if you …”

“If I kept silent.”

She smiled at me and patted my shoulder. “Get back safely, Anna.”

And then, I walked off into the night, my stomach full and my mind inspired.

CHAPTER
 
42 

I
LISTENED TO THE CHILDREN SQUEALING AS
I
STEPPED FROM THE
road into Mama Bessie's yard. I was reading as I walked, my head hung low over the schoolwork in my hands and my fingers running across a passage I couldn't understand. Nearing the porch steps, I lifted my head, then stopped instantly to stare wide-eyed at the figure that graced the entrance to the house.

He stood tall in the doorway, a new shirt hanging loosely but neatly over his chest. His eyes looked tired, but they fell on me. I stood suspended, my books finally slipping from my fingers and falling onto the grass by my feet. But I paid them no mind. His lips stretched a mile wide in a smile I had foolishly tried to wash from my memory.

My eyes remained glued to the figure as Florence brushed past him and ran up to me, proclaiming, “He's back, Anna! See? I told you—trust your brother!” Daniel came quickly down the steps and hugged me, but I held back.

“I don't understand,” I said to him.

“Understand what?”

“What happened to you, Sebastian? I mean, you're … you're back. You shouldn't be back….”

“I shouldn't be back?” he asked, puzzled, looking over at Florence for an explanation.

“She kept saying to me you wasn't comin' back, ever!” Florence told him.

“Anna? Why'd you think somethin' like that?” he asked with imploring eyes. Florence went back into the house, giving us some time alone to talk.

“You said you were going back to get Mary!”

He looked at me with a shocked expression. “Never said no such thing!” he retorted.

“Sure you did. You said you were going back south.”

“Back south?” Daniel said. “You must think I ain't got no sense in the world, Anna!”

I breathed in the sight of him as blood rushed back to my face. “Sebastian,” I said, “I was so sure you had left us for good! You said—”

“Anna, that was my anger speakin' when I talked 'bout my mama. Didn't have no real thoughts of goin' back there! I know I say things crazy-like sometimes, but you gotta know I ain't completely a fool. Jus' bin gone fo' some important work. Wa'an't gonna tell you befo', but I done got involved wit this group that help send folks runnin' from down south to Canada. This time we went right down near the border. It's dangerous round that way, but it sho' ain't as dangerous as returnin' to the South. Folks there be the nicest folks you eva met! Pay us a penny a day, say they knows we takin' off from work an' we gots families to feed, but they needed our help.” He threw his arm around my shoulder.

“You got a lot of stuff to hold on to in that big heart of
yours, Anna. I told you, don't spend no time worryin' 'bout me! I'ma always be here.” I nodded, breathing back my tears. He leaned in closer to me, a solemn look in his eyes.

“Maybe you should open that heart on up a little more, too, Anna.”

“Sebastian …”

“Fresh fruit don't always stay that way.”

His words brought back a memory from a week or so before he had left, when Henry had found me on my way back from Mrs. Rosa's. Henry insisted on walking with me the whole way back and offered me a taste out of his basketful of fruit. We had a good time, laughing like I would with Florence, but the fun rested in a place inside that didn't quite reach my heart. It never would.

“Sebastian, please don't. I thought you understood.” His words had fallen heavy on my ears, evidence of his own doubts inside.

“I'm jus' talkin', Anna, don't mind me,” he said, turning away and walking into the house.

Hours later, as night settled, Daniel and I walked out to the lake. He recounted the things he had seen and done while he had been gone.

“Lotta things I done seen, good things an' bad, gonna stay inside me fo'eva,” he said as we stood by the water. After a moment, he said softly, “I hear Tucker out here, sometimes. There's no anger or sadness in him. He say to me, ‘Be the big brother fo' your people. Don't you eva stop that fight fo' our rights.' An' I ain't neva gonna stop doin' that, Anna.”