Never Too Late (23 page)

“What's on your mind, Josepha?” said Uncle Ward. “Did something happen today that's got this supper turning sour in your mouth? You look like you're about ready to start grumping at us.”

“It ain't dat,” she said. “I just ain't fond er da notion er sweatin' over da cook stove fo da likes er dat lady.”

“But she's sick,” said Katie. “She needs our help.”

“That's what neighbors are for,” said Papa
.

“But we ain't her neighbors.”

“We're neighbors to everybody,” said Katie, “at least everybody we want to be a neighbor to. And maybe her own neighbors aren't being as neighborly as they ought to be.”

“Well, she ain't my neighbor, an' she ain't never treated me neighborly, nohow.”

“We all know that Mrs. Hammond hasn't been in the habit of treating anyone too neighborly!” laughed Papa. “But people can change.”

“I don't know dat she can,” muttered Josepha
.

“What are you talking about!” laughed Papa.
“Look at me . . . Kathleen can tell you, when I used to come around visiting here I stole her mama's money from the cookie jar.”

“It was a coffee can, Uncle Templeton,” smiled Katie
.

“Well, there you are—from the coffee can! But gradually I changed and Kathleen forgave me, and here I am.”

“We've all changed,” I said. “I can hardly imagine how different I am now than when I came to Rosewood.”

“We've all grown,” added Katie. “That's what growth is, isn't it?—learning to change and live with people, and maybe forgive them too.”

“All I know is dat dat lady ain't never been nuthin' but ornery an' mean ter me an' Miz Mayme, so why should I or any ob us be nice ter her?”

“Maybe because she's trying to change, like Kathleen says,” said Uncle Ward
.

“Den let her change an' den maybe I'll see.”

“But, Josepha,” said Katie, “maybe people have to change together. What if she needs our help to grow?”

“How you figger dat?”

“Well, maybe we've got to match a little spark of growth in someone else with a little spark of growth in ourselves to keep the spark in them alive. I don't think that explains it very well, but it's something like what I'm feeling. Maybe it's something inside us that makes the other person want to grow more, and then again we have to respond by changing some
more too, and pretty soon two people are growing closer together because both were willing to change a little bit at a time. All growth comes a little bit at a time, doesn't it, Uncle Templeton? Everybody's got to be willing to do their share, or they don't grow and change, and instead get stale inside.”

“I think you've explained it about as well as anyone could, Kathleen,” said Papa. “Mary Ann and I had a struggle getting used to each other at first, didn't we, little girl?” he added, turning to me. “We changed together, just like you say.”

“Well, you an' Mayme's gone visitin' her,” said Josepha, “an' I done made da broff, an' I'll do like you say an' make some mo soup tonight.”

“But maybe Mrs. Hammond needs more from you than that,” said Katie
.

“Like what? What cud she need from me? I hardly know da lady, 'ceptin' a time or two when I wuz in her store an' she looked at me wiff her nose in da air like I wuz somethin' dat come in on da bottom ob somebody's boot.”

“She might need something from you that no one else in the whole world can give her,” persisted Katie
.

“An' what cud dat be?”

“She might need your forgiveness, Josepha,” said Katie. “No one else can give her that—nobody but you. And maybe that's what she needs so that she can keep growing inside—forgiveness . . . from all of us. If she's trying to change, and we forgive her and grow and change ourselves, then she'll be able to keep growing all the more.”

We all sat quietly thinking about what Katie had said. I think we were as amazed at the wisdom she had as at anything she had actually said, although that was amazing in itself. She had really grown into a lady who understood life and people. Her mother would sure be proud of her! The look on Henry's face was almost like he had known that wisdom was there all along. But when he glanced at Josepha, the look on his face changed. I could tell he was concerned about the things she had said
.

We went into Greens Crossing again the next morning about the same time, with another batch of soup and a loaf of fresh bread and butter. Katie had put a notice on the door of Mrs. Hammond's store the day before, saying that the shop wouldn't open until nine so that we would be sure to be there on time. And she told Mrs. Hammond to stay in bed until we got there. The doctor had said she needed to get at least two good days of rest before going back to work
.

We arrived and went upstairs. She greeted us almost like old friends. The change because of what had happened the day before was amazing. It was like seeing what Katie had said at supper the night before coming true right before our eyes
.

Mrs. Hammond was much better. We could tell that from one look at her. But she stayed in bed like Katie had said and let us take care of her like the day before. Katie helped her get dressed and I got the fires going again in her two stoves and made her
something to eat while Katie went downstairs to open the shop. I swept the floors and emptied the chamber pot and brought clean water for her washbasin. Mrs. Hammond had her strength back enough to hold the bowl of soup herself this time, so I didn't feed her. But she still wanted me to sit on the bedside with her. She talked to me like we'd been friends for years. My being colored never came up again. I think she had already started not to notice the color of my skin
.

“The week's mail delivery should arrive today, Kathleen,” she said when Katie came back up after about an hour. “I will have to sign for it. Bring up the paper when the delivery man comes.”

Katie went back downstairs, and Mrs. Hammond and I talked some more as she ate what was left of what I had brought her. The mail delivery came. Katie brought up the paper for Mrs. Hammond to sign
.

“You can take the mail out of the bag, Kathleen,” said Mrs. Hammond, “and sort it alphabetically by names. Then if anyone comes in and asks for their mail, you can find it easily.”

Katie nodded and returned downstairs
.

“You and Kathleen are good friends, aren't you?” said Mrs. Hammond. “I don't think I've hardly ever seen you when you weren't together.”

“The best of friends,” I said. “We both say that we couldn't have survived after the war without each other.”

“No one knew you two were alone out there,”
said Mrs. Hammond. “Everyone thought Rosalind was still alive.”

I smiled. “We had to work hard to make it seem like everything was normal,” I said. “It was Katie's idea. She thought if people found out, they would send us both away. Actually, I thought so too. We were both afraid for our own reasons. She was worried about her uncle. I was afraid of being beaten or sold or killed.”

“I had my suspicions that something funny was going on, but—”

Mrs. Hammond paused briefly
.

“Well, that's not entirely true,” she said. “I suppose I was suspicious of everything and everybody. I haven't been a very nice person sometimes. But,” she laughed sheepishly, almost like a little girl, “at first you fooled me too! Then after it came out, I tried to pretend that I'd known all along . . . but I really hadn't.”

I laughed and Mrs. Hammond laughed again along with me. I'd never heard her laugh before. Imagine—me sitting on the side of Mrs. Hammond's bed serving her food, and us laughing together!

“I always try to make people think I know more than I do,” she added. “It's one of my worst faults. I know I shouldn't, but I've been doing it so long—trying to make myself look good in other people's eyes, that pretty soon it was second nature. But I don't think I ever really fooled anyone.”

“It's hard to make yourself look good in other people's eyes if you're black,” I said. “Everyone looks
down on you—whites, I mean, not other blacks.”

Mrs. Hammond seemed to take in what I said thoughtfully, as though the idea of what it was like to be black had never occurred to her
.

“Were you a slave, Mayme?” she asked
.

“Yes, ma'am. At the McSimmons plantation.”

“Oh yes, of course. Was it . . . was it pretty terrible?”

“I was young,” I said. “It was far worse for the older ones. But still, I was whipped four times and hung once. I would have died if Katie and Jeremiah and Emma hadn't rescued me.”

“That's awful.”

“That's what they did to slaves, Mrs. Hammond.”

Again she pondered my words
.

“Why don't you talk like a colored?” she asked
.

“My mama was raised with Katie's mother, so she spoke better. And Katie helped me after I came to Rosewood, and I practiced at it because I wanted to learn. Katie taught me to read better too, and now I can read pretty well.”

“You're lucky, being friends like you are.”

“And cousins,” I said
.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot. I never had a friend like that.”

“Did you have brothers and sisters?” I asked
.

“No, I was an only child,” said Mrs. Hammond. “My parents died when I was young and I went to stay with an aunt in Charlotte. When she died I received a small inheritance, just enough to open this store.”

“When did you get married, Mrs. Hammond?”

An embarrassed look came over her face. “I've never been married,” she said. “I just called myself Missus when I came here so that people wouldn't think I was alone . . . or maybe so I wouldn't feel so alone myself.”

All of a sudden we were interrupted by Katie's steps running up the stairs from the shop
.

“Mayme, Mayme . . . guess what!” she cried as she reached the top. “There's a letter from Emma and Micah!”

Suddenly Katie realized what she'd done, running right into Mrs. Hammond's bedroom like it was her own. A timid look came over her face
.

“I'm sorry for yelling, Mrs. Hammond,” she said. “I was just excited.”

“That's all right, Kathleen. It is nice to hear happy sounds. My house is always so quiet. Who is this letter from?”

“Emma, the black girl who was living with us—the one with the son . . . who was drowned . . . she had escaped from the McSimmons plantation right after the war.”

“Oh . . . oh, yes—that unpleasantness.”

“She married Micah Duff, the black buffalo soldier who came to town a while back. I think you were the first person he saw in Greens Crossing. You sent him to Henry, and Henry sent him to us, and he and Emma fell in love and got married and are now on their way west to Oregon.”

“Open the letter!” I said excitedly. “I wonder where they are.”

Katie tore open the envelope, took out the single sheet, and began to read
.

I glanced over at Katie. She wiped a tear or two from her eyes and blinked several times to keep reading. I was fighting back the tears too!

Katie paused and glanced at the bed
.

“Go ahead, dear,” said Mrs. Hammond. “Whatever he says, I won't mind.”

“—I know she never thought much of me,” Katie went on, “but there is a soft spot in my heart for the dear lady, because, as circumstances work themselves out, had I not gone in to see her when I first arrived in Greens Crossing, who can tell, I might never have met you all . . . and my dear Emma.”

I glanced unconsciously toward Mrs. Hammond. She was looking down at the bedcovers with kind of a sad look on her face
.