Morning Sky (18 page)
“Fear? Fear of what? Having to share with folks who have less? Instead of being afraid, it seems folks would be anxious to help. Every one of us prayed for help when we were out here on the prairie with nothing.What if aid hadn’t come from the East or if the Indians hadn’t shared their food with us?”
“You make a valid argument. And you’ve given me an excellent idea for your sister’s next writing assignment for the newspaper. I think a series of articles addressing this issue would be an excellent way to encourage folks to put their Christianity into practice.We can set forth the facts and hope folks will move to action.”
Grace leaned forward on the buggy seat. “That’s a wonderful idea. Truth can rally folks to action like nobody else I know.”
“There’s no doubt Truth could write some stirring accounts, but I was thinking I’d ask Jarena to write the articles. She’s begun helping me at the newspaper, but I guess you didn’t know that.”
Grace gave her sister a sidelong glance. “Jarena would do a fine job, but Truth should be home soon. Maybe we should wait until she returns. I don’t figure the Exoduster problem is going away anytime soon.”
They pulled into the yard, and Moses helped the girls down from the buggy. “We don’t need to decide right now.”
Jarena followed her sister into the sod house while feeling as though she’d been away for an eternity. Granted, the Boyles’ house was grand in comparison, but this was her home. And with the limestone extension her father planned to add after the fall harvest, this house would be better than any place they’d ever lived. Even Jarena was surprised by the affinity she now felt for the home she’d railed against only a few years ago. She ran her fingers across the rough-hewn table as though it were made of the finest mahogany and inhaled the scent of the sod bricks and dried sunflower stalks. Yes, this was home.
“Good to have you home, daughter.”
“It’s good to be home, Pappy. I only wish I could stay.”
He patted her shoulder. “I’s thinkin’ Truth should be gettin’ back any day now, don’t you think? Any word from her?”
Moses drew closer. “Seems it’s going to be a while longer before Truth returns. Dr. Boyle had a telegram from Miss Boyle’s doctor. It seems Miss Boyle began to experience some type of seizures. The doctor thought it would be unsafe for her to travel just yet.”
“Did he say how long afore she could come home? I ain’t likin’ the sounds of this.” Ezekiel massaged his forehead. “Truth don’ know nothing ’bout gettin’ along in no big city.”
Jarena patted her father’s arm. “She’s not alone, Pappy. Macia’s there. And she’s at the school, where there should be folks to help.”
“If Dr. Boyle’s gal is having some kinda fits, she ain’t gonna be no help to Truth, and them other folks is strangers.” Ezekiel shook his head. “Guess there ain’t much we can do to change things, but I’m thinkin’ I made a mistake lettin’ her go.”
Moses pulled a chair close and sat down opposite Ezekiel. “I have great confidence in Truth’s ability, Ezekiel. She’s intelligent and she’s going to do fine. When she returns, she’ll have stories to tell that will keep us entertained for weeks on end.”
Ezekiel grinned, but it appeared forced. “I guess you’s right. Don’t s’pose fretting is gonna help. We all needs to be prayin’ for her—and Macia, too.”
As they prepared the noon meal, Jarena encouraged Grace to tell her more about what the ladies had discussed while at the Harban soddy while the men were harvesting the wheat.
“The ladies are talking about forming a temperance union,” Grace related. “Miss Hattie’s leading the charge and is already making plans to meet on the second Wednesday of each month. She got permission to meet at the church. But I see no reason to form a temperance union in Nicodemus.”
“I guess I never gave it much thought.”
“Exactly my point. Why do we need a temperance union when the town already prohibits liquor? Seems to me like a waste of time and energy. I think it would be more beneficial to work toward helping some of the Exodusters.”
Jarena laughed as she heaped the steaming green beans into a large china bowl before placing it on the table. “And you appear to be as focused upon the Exodusters as the other women are upon the temperance union.”
While the two of them continued to fill the plates and bowls with ham and potatoes, Jarena explained the finer points of the liquor legislation. Though Grace didn’t appear overly concerned to hear that the prohibition bill had not yet been voted upon by the legislature, Jarena doggedly explained the risks that existed if the bill should fail. She wanted Grace to understand that many citizens were sorely concerned over such a possibility. If the bill didn’t pass, those who had tirelessly worked toward its acceptance would be devastated.
“Both are worthwhile endeavors. Neither should be discounted as unimportant or undeserving of our best efforts. If you won Miss Hattie to your side, she could help, but you’d likely need to go to her with a compromise of some sort.”
Grace pulled off her apron and hung it on a nearby hook. “What kind of compromise?”
Jarena scanned the table one final time, making certain all of the bowls and plates were in place. “Ask her if she’ll attempt to influence some of the ladies to find a way to help one or two families move from Topeka. In return, you could offer to help influence the young women to become involved in the temperance movement. I think if all of you listened to each other with an open mind, it could work. Now go call Pappy and Moses before this food gets cold.”
Grace giggled and glanced over her shoulder as she hurried to the door. “Not much chance of that happening in this heat.”
The soft breeze fluttered the ties of Jarena’s bonnet as she and Moses journeyed back to Hill City. “You miss Truth terribly, don’t you?” she asked.
“No more than you miss Thomas. At least I know she isn’t in danger of being ambushed by a renegade band of Indians.”
Jarena shrank back at his words.
“I’m sorry, Jarena. That was unforgivably insensitive of me. I should think before speaking. Please accept my apologies.”
He shifted on the buggy seat, and Jarena could see the embarrassment in his eyes.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve told you what a pleasure it has been to have your company while Truth has been away. And I meant what I said to Grace. I want you to write a series of articles about the Exodus-ters. Perhaps it would be enlightening if I traveled to Topeka and observed the conditions for myself.”
“I don’t know when you’d find time to make the journey, but a firsthand account of what’s going on in Topeka would be helpful. We would be confident the articles contained accurate information.”
Moses flicked the reins. “I’ll give it some thought. Incidentally, did you notice the two new limestone buildings going up in Nicodemus? We passed them on the way to the church earlier today.”
Jarena thought for a moment and then nodded. “I was going to ask Grace who owned them, but it slipped my mind.”
“Two new stores going in—almost directly across the street from one another. And both of them being opened by white owners. Nico-demus is no longer an all-colored community.”
Jarena swiveled in the seat. “White men? And they want to open stores in Nicodemus? Who are they? More importantly, why do they want to open their businesses in Nicodemus? Why not Hill City or Stockton?”
Moses grinned. “You ask excellent questions, Miss Harban. You’re a natural reporter. Now let me see if I can remember all your father told me.”
While they continued their journey, Moses entertained her with information about the newly arrived entrepreneurs and their decision to settle in Nicodemus. He pointed out the obvious opportunity available to the new residents. With only one fledgling general store in Nicodemus, the newcomers would have plenty of customers vying for their wares.
“From what your father tells me, both men have purchased land and they’re building houses. Seems they’re settling their families in Nicodemus Township.”
Though Jarena wasn’t opposed to white folks settling in Nicode-mus, and the town charter didn’t prohibit members of any race living in the town, it seemed odd that two white families that didn’t even know each other would both decide to build general stores in Nicode-mus in the short time she’d been gone to Hill City. She wondered if it was purely coincidental. Likely it was as Moses said: the men were speculating upon growth in the area and hoping that the railroad would eventually plan a route that passed through Nicodemus—a hope shared by every resident of the township.
Nicodemus , Kansas
•
August 1880
A
s usual, the residents of Nicodemus had celebrated the Fourth of July with fervor, but it was the celebration of the liberation of the West Indian slaves by Britain that brought joy beyond compare. Better than the Fourth of July, better even than Christmas. Today they would celebrate Emancipation Day.
Moses, Jarena, and Lilly had arrived at the Harban farm two days earlier: Moses to witness and report the countless activities for the newspaper, Jarena to help prepare food, and Lilly to enjoy the luxury of a few days away from household chores and the Nelson children. My, how she needed the vacation!
The night before, the streets in Nicodemus had been watered to keep down the dust, and now excitement reached fever pitch as revelers lined the streets to await their first glimpse of the parade. Women and girls were dressed in lightweight muslin, while the men and boys sported their best bib and tucker. All of them cheered and applauded as the horse-drawn wagons decorated with brightly colored banners passed by. Children pranced with delight as a makeshift band marched down the street, the musicians having difficulty keeping step while playing their instruments. But no matter—the tunes were joyful, and the crowd responded with clapping and shouts of enthusiastic approval.
When the parade ended, the assembled crowd piled into their wagons and carriages and formed a lengthy caravan that snaked its way to Palmer’s Grove, a cool coppice close to the Solomon River. A wood platform draped with colorful bunting stood sentry over the rows of tables that would soon be laden with food. An abundance of sweet potatoes, white potatoes, corn, onions, and wild herbs were added to the cooking pit where a hog donated by Herman Kemble had roasted throughout the night. Spirits were high, and children quickly organized to play games while the adults completed final preparations for the noonday meal.
Though Lilly had attempted to rearrange the seating at their table, Grace was the one who finally sat beside Moses throughout the meal. The two of them talked quietly together until the meal was nearly finished.
Lilly reached across the table and tapped her fork in front of Moses. “It would be nice if you two would include the rest of us in your conversation.”
Moses served himself a generous wedge of Miss Hattie’s gooseberry pie and waved at Miss Hattie. “Fine-looking pie, Miss Hattie.”
Ezekiel nodded from his place at the head of the table. “Even better tastin’.”
Lilly opened her fan and flapped it back and forth with vigor. “I do believe you’re ignoring me, Moses.”
“Not ignoring, Miss Lilly. However, my conversation with Grace was of a private nature, not something I wished to share with the entire group.”
Lilly snapped the fan together and pointed it at Grace. “I wonder what Truth would think of your flirtatious behavior with her intended?”
Grace jumped up from the table. “
Flirtatious?
We were merely talking, that’s all.”
“Of course. I understand completely,” Lilly said.
Without another word, Grace rushed off toward one of the other tables, obviously hoping to emphasize the honesty of her reply.
Moses folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “You managed to run her off, didn’t you?”
“I would say it’s her own guilt and embarrassment that sent her scampering off like a frightened child.” She stretched her neck to see what her other niece was doing. “It looks as if Jarena could use some help chopping ice for the lemonade.”
“And I wish I had time to accommodate her. However, I’ve been asked to introduce today’s speakers, and I believe it’s time for the program to begin.” That said, Moses strode off toward the platform, leaving Lilly to contemplate her next move.
For the most part, the speeches contained enough patriotic zeal to offset what they lacked in elegance, and those attending would agree they had all been reminded of the fact that they had much for which to be thankful. The orators’ chairs emptied one by one as each speaker completed his speech and moved to sit among the crowd of onlookers. As the final speaker departed the platform, the crowd began to disperse.
Moses hurried to the center of the stage and waved his arms. “Hold up! We have one more speaker. One I believe you will be surprised and pleased to hear from. I’ll wait until you’re all seated and quiet before making the introduction.”
Murmurs continued as folks looked about, eagerly attempting to see who among them had been enlisted to speak and had not yet taken the platform. Moses patiently waited until the only sounds were those made by the children playing in the distance and the meadowlarks perched in the branches overhead.
“I have a special surprise in store for you today, and I trust that you will be courteous and open-minded throughout this next presentation. Grace Harban is going to come to the stage and speak to you about the correlation between this Emancipation celebration and the Exodusters who have made their way to Kansas during the past year.”
As Grace came to the stage, Moses clapped, and others followed suit. Although she didn’t receive the same hearty ovation given the other speakers, there was a smattering of approval and an air of surprise when she began to speak. Though her voice momentarily quivered, she soon gave the impression she was quite comfortable in front of the audience.
With the crowd’s attention focused upon her, Grace carefully outlined what she and Moses had learned regarding the plight of the Exo-dusters in Topeka. She asked that the residents of Nicodemus think back to their own early days on the plains of Kansas. “Remember our desperation and our prayers that others would reach out to help us. There are many living in pitiable conditions at the fairgrounds, packed into dismal quarters with little food or clothing, some suffering from dysentery and other ailments. They are without adequate funds to begin life anew and therefore must live in dismal conditions with little hope for the future.”
