Windswept (11 page)

Chapter Seven

Seven children came to the classroom behind the milliner’s shop the next morning. Two of them wore shoes. All of them had shiny, scrubbed faces. The three Obalu children were there, just as Portia had promised, or, quite possibly, threatened. There were four others, three boys and a girl, all of whom exhibited such a glow of hero worship in their eyes for Felix Obalu, it was obvious they would have done anything he asked them -- even if it meant giving up two hours of their morning to learn to read.

Nora was not discouraged that only seven children had come. A firm believer in “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” she applied that same philosophy to the first school for Key West’s Free Black youngsters and greeted her pupils with keen enthusiasm.

“What a fine looking group we have here for our first day of class,” she said. “I am very proud of you for being here. You are charter members of the Island School for Reading, and as other students join us, you will always have the distinction of being the first.”

When she smiled at the children, she was grateful to see a slight relaxing of the rigid postures they had maintained since coming in the classroom. All of them but Felix seemed intimidated by her presence. Nora had chosen a soft coral dress with white collar and cuffs, hoping the warm color would be soothing. “And now I want each of you to tell me your name. My name is Miss Nora.”

Once the introductions were over, Nora explained that they would be learning the twenty-six letters of the alphabet. Scanning each attentive face, she said, “That’s all there are, you see. Just twenty-six letters. I don’t think it will be so difficult to learn them. And when we do, we can put them together in all sorts of wonderful ways.”

She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “We can put as few as two or three letters together and make itty, bitty simple words.” She held her arms apart as if she were demonstrating the size of a large fish.  “And later we can put as many as fifteen or more together and make giant, very smart- sounding words.”

So far so good, Nora thought. They were listening. In fact, a few of her students even seemed intrigued at the notion of stringing those letters together to make words. “But first we must start with just one.”

She held up her sketch pad which revealed the letters A and B, one on each page. Pointing to the first page where she’d drawn a bright red apple, she asked the class to identify the picture.

Nothing. Her request was met with seven blank stares.

She looked at her apple. It was perfectly round, brilliantly red, and topped with a small stem and one green oval leaf. It was indeed an apple.

After several moments, Ty Obalu raised his plump little arm and pointed to the other page, the one with the B. “Well, that one’s a banana!” he exclaimed.

Suddenly she knew what was wrong. These children had never seen an apple. They were only grown in northern states and rarely shipped so far south. To anyone living in the tropics, an apple had to be a rare delicacy and almost certainly not one the Bahamian children would know. She decided right then to draw an avocado by the next morning. And in the meantime, they would start with the second letter.

“You’re absolutely right, Ty,” she said.

He grinned and looked around to make sure everyone had heard her.

“So let’s talk about the banana. Everyone say the first sound of banana…just the very beginning.”

Softly exploding
buh, buh, buh’s
mingled with reserved laughter.

And when bananas grow all together on one limb, what do we call them?”

“A bunch!” a girl named Dorina answered.

“Right! Say the first sound of bunch.”

“
Buh, buh, buh
.”

“Now think of other words that start the same way.”

“Button!”

“Boat!”

“Bottle!”

“Barnacle!”

Nora pointed to each child as suggestions were fired at her, one after the other. “Right! Good! Now another!”

A rush of adrenalin fueled her own enthusiasm as the words kept coming. Her children had started to learn, and Nora Seabrook was teaching!

The first hour and a half went by quickly, and at nine o’clock Nora instructed the students to practice the capital B on their slates. Except for the muffled scratch of chalk on slate, the classroom was quiet, the breeze from the open windows still cool and refreshing. Soon, however, outside sounds from increasing activity on the harbor filtered into the back of the milliner’s shop. They were ordinary sounds, and occasionally her students glanced toward the window.

But when the harsh tones of a heated argument suddenly shattered the calm morning, the drawing of B’s was instantly forgotten. Felix jumped up from his bench and ran to the window. “Cap’n J’s fightin’ with Moony!” he called to the others.

Chalk rolled to the floor, and benches scraped the pine planking. All seven children ran to the windows. Nora followed behind them.

“What’s goin’ on?” the boy called Jericho asked.

“If you shut up, we’ll find out,” Felix ordered.

Nora’s palm flattened against her chest, a vexation habit she’d picked up from her mother and was determined to stop. “Maybe we shouldn’t listen,” she said. “I’m sure this is private business between the two men.”

“They’re standin’ in the middle of the darn street, Miss Nora,” Felix pointed out. “They can’t care too awful much who hears them.”

She conceded with a shrug and leaned further out the window. Moony Swain was pounding his fist against his opposite hand in an effort to make a point. “You’ve got no right to speak for your men, Proctor. Let me hire a couple of your divers for a few hours. Give ‘em a chance to make some extra money.”

With his hands on his hips Jacob appeared immovable. “You’ll not take one of my men to the wreck of the
Morning Dove
, Moony. And that’s the end of it. I’ll fire any of them that says they’re going with you.”

“You’re a pompous jackass, Proctor! You always have been. You think you can preach to every one on the island.”

“This isn’t preaching. It’s common sense. Any idiot knows you can’t send men down thirty feet to the bottom when there’s bottles of liniment leaking all over the ocean floor. Wasn’t it enough that one of your men was blinded yesterday, Swain? You want every diver in Key West coming down with blisters of the eyes?”

Moony bent at the waist and leaned so close to Jacob their noses nearly touched. “At least I don’t play God, pickin’ and choosin’ who gets a job and who doesn’t. You spout off your righteousness till it sticks in my gut like broken glass. We’d all be better off if you’d take your operation and get off this island.”

Felix Obalu whistled through his teeth. “Ooo-whee, Cap’n J ain’t gonna like them words a bit.”

When Jacob’s finger began jabbing at Moony’s chest, Nora decided she’d better get the children away from the window. “Maybe we shouldn’t watch anymore.”

“We can’t stop now!” Felix protested. “It’s just gettin’ good.”

“I don’t care what you think of me, Moony!” Jacob shouted. “You’re nothing but a greedy fool who’s only interest is to pluck the last dollar out of the last crate in the ocean, no matter who gets hurt. I’m telling you one last time. Forget about my divers. If you’re so anxious to bring up that liniment, you go down and fetch it yourself!”

Having said his piece, Jacob walked away, but Moony followed him. “I’ll get you, Proctor. Somehow I will,” he shouted at Jacob’s back.

Jacob shrugged off the threat, and soon their voices could no longer be heard in the classroom. The children slowly returned to their seats.

“That’s horrible,” Nora said. “A diver was blinded from substances in the water?”

“It happens, Miss Nora,” Jericho said. “My own papa’s a diver, and he’s had the blisters lots of times. Guess I will, too, since I’ll be a diver just like him. I’ll prob’ly be lucky, though, like he is. After a few days, he always gets his sight back.”

Nora sat on her chair behind the desk and contemplated the harsh life of the island. She jotted down words she would write in her journal later.

So much wealth and beauty, and so much misery in one mile-wide stretch of land. This is Key West.”

A dozen illustrations of her point crowded into her head at once. “It’s nine thirty,” she said to her students. “Who wants to volunteer to help Mr. McTaggart today?”

Keeping seven energetic children occupied and interested in learning is not an easy task under the best of conditions, but Nora found it especially difficult her first week as a teacher. The biggest hindrance to education was that she opened her school the same week as Jacob Proctor scheduled his auction. Though the auction wouldn’t be held until Friday morning, the island swelled with visitors as early as Tuesday. When all the rooms in the two hotels were taken, individual residents volunteered to house visitors.

 Nora could hardly blame her students for wanting to rush to the window whenever a tall ship docked and a new stream of passengers disembarked. What an interesting assortment of individuals they were! Nattily-dressed gentlemen in silk top hats and wool frock coats became commonplace, some escorting elegantly dressed ladies in brocades and satins. The arrivals came from varied ports, including the Bahamas, Charleston, New York, New Orleans, and Havana. They were all interested in one thing -- Jacob Proctor’s auction of salvaged material and the bargains they would take home.

The sale was the talk of the Key West community also. Young and old, everyone planned to attend the event and bid on at least one treasure from the many barrels and crates to be opened and spilled on the dock that day. After all, nearly every home on the island had been furnished from shipwreck spoils. Key West ladies proudly wore gowns of the finest silk, even though the garments often bore salt stains. And in the best homes, women served tea from sterling pots bearing someone else’s initials.

By Wednesday evening, Nora was as caught up in auction fever as everyone else. She longed to be at the restaurants and taverns that ringed the harbor so she could be part of the excitement that surrounded Proctor’s Warehouse and Salvage.

That night she retreated to the back yard after dinner as she often did. Sitting on the service porch steps with a tin pan in her lap, she fed scraps of food to Reckless. Bright melodies from piano and stringed instruments carried on a breeze from the harbor. Adding to that were the vibrant sounds of harmonicas, banjos and drums from the Negro community several blocks in the other direction.

Nora sighed and offered the remains of a biscuit to the goat. “No offense, Reckless,” she said, “but everyone in town seems to be having fun but me.”

The goat churned his lower jaw and nuzzled closer to Nora’s skirt. Familiar now with his habits, she placed her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.

“You’ll not get my dress this time, silly goat,” she said. “Don’t make me stick a finger in your ear.” She then patted Reckless’ head between his horns. “You’re really the lucky one here, you know. No one pays you any mind at all. Even Armand and Hubert, now that they’ve gotten their fill of yapping and carrying on, scarcely give you a second look these days. You could march right out that gate, and no one would even notice until the garbage started piling up.

“Now, me, on the other hand…everyone in this household seems much too concerned with what Nora is doing every minute. Lulu, though she’s sweet about it, is quite sure I’m incapable of doing anything on my own and fusses over me continuously. Mama is constantly putting me in situations where I’m forced to entertain Theo. Fanny seeks me out to bend my ear with the latest town gossip, and Father…heaven only knows why he’s been watching me like a hawk. It’s as if he thinks I’m going to run off with Captain Proctor on a whim.”

Nora set the tin pan down and let Reckless lick the sticky remains. Placing her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her hands, she said wistfully, “And speaking of Captain Proctor, that strangest of all human beings…he’s the only one of my acquaintances who doesn’t appear the least interested in anything about me.”

Her gaze wandered over the fence in the direction of the wharf. “I’ll bet he’s sitting in one of those taverns right now enjoying the music and the company of any number of gentlemen… and ladies. He’s definitely the most noteworthy person in town these days.”

When a plan came unbidden to her mind, Nora didn’t even try to push it away. “I’m going there, Reckless,” she declared. “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t enjoy myself too. I’ll tell Mama I’m going to walk down the block, and then I’ll sneak to the harbor. And if I see Jacob Proctor, well, so what? It’s like seeing a beautiful dress and knowing I can’t have it because it’s much too daring. At least I got to see it, and there is satisfaction in that.”

She stood up and grinned at the goat who stubbornly butted his head against the empty tin in her hand. The goat didn’t give up easily and neither would she!

Choosing comfort over fashion, and expedience over preparation, Nora left her hoops and crinolines in her wardrobe and hastily threw on a light cotton lawn dress. It was a pale pink muslin with a scooped neckline, pinafore front, and short gathered sleeves. She pinned the sides of her hair at the crown and let the rest fall in waves down her back. The casual appearance suited both the balmy night and her mood.