The Color of Your Skin Ain’t the Color of Your Heart (12 page)

She took the money, but as soon as she began walking back to where I was standing by the wagons I saw tears filling her eyes.

“It’s not enough, Mayme,” she said. “It’s not enough.

What are we going to do?”

We walked down the street to the bank in silence. Katie put the money into her mother’s account. She had taken a little more out of it through the winter, and with what she’d used for the seed, it now totaled one hundred eighty-seven dollars. That was a hundred sixty-three dollars less than the loan.

Katie was right. It wasn’t enough.

O
VERHEARD
P
LANS

15

A
WEEK OR TWO LATER
, H
ENRY WAS WORKING IN
the livery stalls one morning. Three men came in to saddle their horses. He hadn’t been there when they’d dropped them off earlier and said he didn’t know any of them. They didn’t know he was there.

As soon as he heard them start talking, Henry’s ears perked up and he stopped still so he could listen and so they wouldn’t hear him.

“… say we go out there again,” one of the men said.

“The way I hear it,” said the second man, “Clairborne ain’t ever coming back from the war.”

“… think he’s dead?” asked the third.

“Ain’t no telling …”

“… lots of men … still missing. Maybe some of them just don’t want to come back.”

“All I know is that if it’s just the woman and her kid and a colored brat, what’s to stop us?”

“… still don’t get us Ward …”

“We been up and down the state looking … every clue points right back here … gotta be there … should have tossed the place last time …”

“… think that fancy-talking brother of his knows something … should’ve pressed him harder.”

“Doubt he knows …”

“… a yellow coward … he’d a talked if we pressed him harder … lost track of him too.”

“… what’d Sneed say?”

“… go out tomorrow and nose around …”

By then the men were about done and started leading their horses out and that was all Henry heard.

He knew they were talking about Rosewood and Katie’s papa, and he recognized the name Sneed from being in Oakwood occasionally. He said he didn’t like the sound of the men’s voices. It sounded to him like we might be in some kind of danger.

He snuck out and watched the men leave. Right then they were going in the opposite direction from Rosewood, so he went back to his work. But from the sound of it, they were planning on paying us another visit real soon.

Henry worked hard to finish up his work that day, then told the livery owner that he was leaving for a day or two.

Mr. Guiness asked him what for, but Henry said he couldn’t say. Mr. Guiness wasn’t none too happy about it, Henry said, but since Henry was determined, there wasn’t much he could do about it.

We saw Henry late that same afternoon. He walked into the barn just as Katie and I were finishing up the evening milking.

“Aftahnoon t’ you ladies,” he said. “Dere’s some biz’ness I gotter discuss wiff you.”

Henry’s expression was more serious than usual. A worried look came over Katie’s face.

Aleta wasn’t there, which I was glad of. Henry pulled up a stool and sat down and told us what he’d heard that morning.

“Why’d dose three men be comin’ here?” he asked.

“They were here once before,” said Katie.

“Why’s dat?”

Katie looked over at me, and I know she was wondering whether she should tell Henry about her uncle and the gold coins she’d found in his trousers in the cellar.

“They were looking for my uncle,” she finally answered.

“Dat uncle you don’ want ter go live wif?”

“No, my uncle that went to California and who’s dead now.”

Henry nodded slowly.

“Well,” he said after a bit, “I’m thinkin’ dat maybe I oughter jes’ stay wiff y’all fer a spell, an’ sleep in da barn here agin, maybe jes’ a night er two. We’ll see what happens, jes’ ter make sure dey don’ mean no harm. I jes’ didn’t like da soun’ er dose men.”

Katie nodded and said that would be fine.

T
EMPORARY
B
OARDER AT
R
OSEWOOD

16

H
ENRY’D BEEN AROUND SO MUCH THROUGH
the winter that his staying with us for a while didn’t seem like that big a change from normal. I think we all slept a little better knowing he was down in the barn. We’d been taking care of ourselves for so long we’d stopped even thinking about it. But having Henry there made us realize all over again that we were just girls, not grown-ups. Even if Henry was black and just cleaned stalls and took care of horses in Greens Crossing, he
was
a grown-up. And he was a
man
too, and a big strong one. If something was to happen, he could do things we couldn’t.

By the time I got up and went outside the next morning, Henry already had half the cows milked. He was sitting there whistling softly to himself, looking like he was having the time of his life. He heard me come into the barn and turned around.

“Mo’nin’, Miz Mayme—y’all sleep well?”

“Yes,” I said.

Being alone with Henry reminded me that we were both black, and both here sort of making ourselves at home on a white man’s plantation. I guess Henry must have been thinking along the same lines.

“Dis place be a powerful lot er work,” said Henry. “You an’ da others keepin’ up wiff da milkin’ an’ da other chores?”

“Yes,” I said. “Even Emma’s learning to work real hard, just like Katie did. Katie could hardly do anything at first, and now she works just as hard as me … and chases off white boys with a shotgun.”

Henry chuckled. “Yep,” he nodded, “I sure wish I cud er seen dat! Soun’s like you’s right proud er her.”

“I reckon I am,” I said. “Do you really think those men’ll come, Henry?”

“I do, Miz Mayme,” he said. “Dey sounded mighty set on hit.”

“You want some help with the milking?” I asked.

“I’m nearly done wiff hit.”

“I reckon I’ll go inside, then, and help Katie with the breakfast.”

I turned to go, but then Henry spoke up again.

“You min’ effen I ax you a question, Miz Mayme?” he said.

“No … of course not.”

“What it be like sleepin’ dere in da big house?”

I hesitated for a second, wondering if he was hinting that it was wrong of me. But from the look on his face, I realized that he was just curious. Even though he’d been free before the war, the idea of such a thing as I was doing had never occurred to him.

“Just like anywhere else, I reckon,” I said, “once you get used to it.”

“Wuz it yer idea, at first, I mean—after you foun’ Miz Kathleen?”

“Oh no. I was going to sleep in here, like you’re doing.

I was terrified at the thought of anyone knowing I’d slept in a white man’s bed.”

Henry laughed at the thought.

“But Katie wanted me to stay with her. She was so helpless at first I didn’t think I ought to leave her alone.”

“Don’ it make you feel a mite all overish?” Henry asked.

“It did for a while,” I said. “At first I slept on the floor, but then she made me sleep in one of the beds, and I could hardly sleep for fear of what would happen if somebody found me. I knew I’d get the tar whipped outta me. But I reckon I got used to it. Katie’s been awful good to me.”

“Soun’s ter me dat you’s helped her some considerable yo’self. Seems ter me she was a bit on da helpless side a year back.”

“I reckon you’re right,” I said. “She was in a bad way when I came. She could hardly do anything for herself. But look at her now. And like I said, even Emma’s learning how to do things too.”

“I reckon takin’ care ob yersel’ makes a body learn what he’s got ter do all right.”

It got quiet a minute.

“You bury ’em?” Henry asked. “Miz Kathleen’s kin?”

“Yes, sir.”

Henry nodded.

“Well …’peers ter me you done right well by both ob ’em. Miz Kathleen’s lookin’ better’n I eber seen her. She’s done growed up a mite. I reckon dat’s why I started noticin’ da two er you in town, seein’ somefin different in Miz Kathleen’s face dat I cudn’t esplain ter mysel’. An’ now I’m seein’ dat same growin’-up look in Miz Emma. Yep … you gots lots ter be proud ob, Miz Mayme. You done real good by dem.”

“Thank you, Henry,” I said. “Well … I reckon I’ll go get started on that breakfast. You’ll probably be hungry.”

Later that morning Katie and I talked about what we should do if the men came like Henry thought they would.

I said I thought we should do our same plan with fires burning and laundry hanging out.

“I’ve been thinking, Mayme,” said Katie, “that I could dress up and pretend to be my mama.”

“What!” I laughed. But then I saw that Katie was downright serious. “Do you really think you could?” I asked.

“I fooled those boys that were beating up Jeremiah.”

“But it was dark … and you had a gun!”

“I’ll just wear old clothes and a scarf or hat or something, and you could smear some dust or dirt on my face, like I’d been cleaning or something, so that it would be harder to tell how young I was.”

“That’s some kind of crazy notion,” I laughed. “But if anyone can do it, it’s Kathleen Clairborne!”

“Should we tell Henry?” said Katie.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What do you think he’d say?”

“Something tells me he might not like it,” I said. “I don’t think he’d be too fond of us not telling the truth.”

“Then we won’t tell him,” said Katie. “I’ll just go upstairs and get dressed, and if he asks you tell him I’m in my room. After a while you come up and help me try to look right.”

“What will we do when the men come?”

“You and Aleta go about your business outside. We’ll keep Emma and William in one of the bedrooms. And I’ll watch for them from upstairs.”

“What about Henry?”

“We’ll just hope they think he’s a hired black man. All we need is for them to see him so they know there’s men around.”

“Not
men,
Miss Katie—just one man.”

“One man’s better than we’ve had up till now.”

T
HE
M
EN

17

I
T WAS RIGHT AFTER LUNCH WHEN THE MEN CAME
. Henry was cleaning up inside the barn at the time. I reckon he figured there wasn’t anything else for him to be doing, so he might as well help us out how he could. Already the barn was looking tidier than I’d ever seen it.

We heard them coming, so we quickly jumped to our plan. Katie sent Aleta out the door where she could sneak down to the cabins and light the fires we’d laid. I adjusted Katie’s hair and scarf and tried to muss up her face one last time, then she went upstairs to wait. Then I headed out into the yard to hang out the laundry. I was just starting when they rode around the barn and up to the house. I hoped they wouldn’t notice that the clothes I was hanging up were already dry!

I tried not to pay them much attention as they rode past me. After they were around to the front of the house, I ran into the barn.

“Henry … Henry,” I whispered, “they’re here.” But I could tell he’d heard them too.