Vivid (20 page)

In 1794, two Black men sought an
alternative to this practice and forever changed the way America worshipped.

Richard Allen had been born a slave in
Philadelphia. When his lawyer-owner sold the Allen family to a planter in
Delaware, Richard Allen became a devout Methodist. His convictions were so
strong he converted the planter, who in turn allowed Richard and his brother to
buy their freedom in 1777.

In the years that followed, the freed
Allen continued his religious work and eventually resettled in Philadelphia
where on off hours he was allowed to preach to the Black congregation of the
city's St. George Methodist Episcopal Church.

For years the church had allowed its Black
worshippers to sit and pray with the rest of the congregation in the
comfortable seats on the main floor. This Christian policy drew so many free
Blacks that the trustees decreed Blacks were no longer allowed on the main
floor.

One cold November morning in 1787,
Reverend Allen and an associate, Reverend Absalom Jones, entered St. George for
the regular Sunday service. Aware of the change in seating, the Reverends Allen
and Jones journeyed to the balcony which overlooked the seats they'd occupied
before Jim Crow. The two men knelt to pray. Moments later, Allen heard a
scuffle and raised his head to see a church trustee trying to raise Reverend
Jones from his knees. It seemed the seating policy had undergone yet another
change. That Sunday morning Blacks were allowed to worship only in the
back
of
the balcony. Reverend Jones and Allen were kneeling in the front.

"You must get up," the trustee
hissed at Reverend Jones, pulling at his arms. "You must not kneel
here."

The Reverend Jones asked that he be at
least allowed to finish his prayer, but the trustee refused and threatened to
have Jones forcibly removed. Faced with such a Christian attitude Allen and
Jones left St. George.

To deal with the very real need for
separate Black churches where Blacks could pray free of Jim Crow Christianity,
the two began to raise funds for a church site. To help with this cause they
enlisted prominent Whites such as Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin
Rush, and the nation's first president, George Washington.

The money was raised, but because Allen
and Jones could not agree on the new church's affiliation, each man formed his
own church: Jones an Episcopalian one and Allen a Methodist one.

In July 1794 Philadelphia witnessed an
historic event, the dedication of the Reverend Jones's St. Thomas African
Episcopal Church, and the Reverend Richard Allen's Bethel African Methodist
Episcopal Church. Both Black churches were the first of their kind.

As a result of the groundwork laid by
Allen and Jones, the independent Black church movement spread. In 1808, the Jim
Crow services at the First Baptist Church of New York led to the formation of
the all-Black Abyssinia Baptist Church, and in 1809, Reverend Thomas Paul
started several independent Black churches in major cities in the East.

The oldest Black church in Michigan, the
Chain of Lakes Baptist Church, had been established in 1837 not too far from
the Grove in another Black township called Calvin Center. All these churches
served as anchors of their surrounding communities, and the Bethel A.M.E. in
Grayson Grove was no exception.

After church, courtesy of the Quilt Ladies
and the Women's Club, a gathering had been arranged to welcome Dr. Lancaster.
Vivid had known nothing about the event until the reverend announced it before
giving his sermon. She'd stared at Abigail, who'd kindly patted Vivid's hand,
then leaned over and whispered, "The sooner they find out you don't have
two heads, the sooner you can get on with your work here."

So now Vivid stood with Abigail beneath a
bower of trees and watched the people she hoped would be her patients set up
tables and chairs in the cleared field behind the church. She fought off her
nervousness and hoped they would accept her.

The friendliness of the people warmed her
heart. There was music provided by the small but mighty Grayson Grove band.
They could only play hymns however, since it was Sunday, but they played with
lively spirit. The food stretched from one end of the long trestle table to the
other.

As Abigail and Miss Edna introduced her
around, Vivid took a few extra minutes getting to know the families in
attendance and introducing herself to their children. She made it a point to
observe the physical appearance of the little ones. Although they were all
thin, she was pleased to see that most were bright-eyed and healthy. One family
did concern her, though. The three children, two boys and a little girl, were
terribly thin and their eyes bore the same haunted look she'd seen in the eyes
of children back in the charity wards of Philadelphia where she'd done her last
year of training. Their father, a small, thin man, was a farmer who rented land
from Nate but was barely making ends meet. His name was Garret Turner and he'd
lost his wife three years ago. Everyone in the area had offered to help with
either the farm or the children, but Turner was a proud man and he wouldn't
accept help from his neighbors. Vivid walked over and introduced herself. When
she stuck out her hand, Mr. Turner looked at her face with confusion. Vivid
concealed her smile. He didn't shake her hand but Vivid didn't mind. Every time
she introduced herself in this manner men seemed taken aback.

"I'm Garret Turner," he said,
assessing her, "and these are my three children, Missy, Josh, and Garret
the second."

Vivid sensed the father's wariness so she
tried to set him at ease. "I just came over to say I'll be visiting all
the Grove families over the course of the summer in order to get to know
everyone better and write down medical histories. I want to make sure I have
your permission before I venture out your way."

Garret the second piped up, "I didn't
know they let girls be doctors, Pa." The boy appeared to be about Magic's
age.

Turner looked down at his son with a smile
that left no doubt as to how much he loved these children, and replied,
"Your ma used to say girls can do anything, Garret, so I guess she was
right."

Vivid smiled at his reply, but her smile
faded when he told her that he wouldn't be needing her care.

Vivid looked at his waiflike children and
longed to disagree but she kept her silence instead. She had plenty of time to
make them more comfortable with her presence. Hannibal didn't cross the Alps in
a day, she reminded herself. "I'll respect your decision, Mr. Turner, but
please, if the children ever need me, send someone and I'll come."

He nodded, but whether it was a nod of
affirmation or dismissal Vivid couldn't tell. She said goodbye to the children
and went to join Miss Edna and Abigail.

Although the people today had come to meet
Vivid, they'd also come to sit and visit with their neighbors. Activities were
going on all over the yard: children playing hide and seek; adults gathered in
small groups and large, talking, pitching horseshoes, gossiping. Everyone to
whom Abigail introduced Vivid smiled and asked questions about her schooling,
her parents, and how Black folks were treated where she came from. Vivid didn't
mind. The more they knew about her, the more inclined they'd be to let her
treat them. Abigail's leg began to ache from all the walking, so she and Miss
Edna went to sit with the Quilt Ladies while Vivid continued to stroll among
the one hundred or so Grove residents. Under a stand of trees she paused to
watch the domino players. Men young and old were slapping the spotted squares
of bones down onto makeshift tables fashioned from slabs of wood set atop large
barrels. They displayed much enthusiasm as they vied for points. The exuberance
in their voices and body movements brought up memories of her Spanish uncles
and cousins. Dominoes in one form or another were played all over the world, and
her Spanish relatives took their games very seriously. Thinking about her
cousins made her think about her parents, and how very much she missed them.
She'd suffered the same pangs of loneliness during her studies in Philadelphia.
However, during that period she'd had the solace of knowing that the time would
pass and she'd be going home when her certification was finished. Here the
circumstances were different. There would be no return home. She'd chosen this
place to do her life's work. She would get back to San Francisco eventually,
but she wouldn't be able to make the trip anytime soon. Deep in thought, she
paid little attention to where she was going, and as a result she strayed away
from the church clearing. Trees surrounded her on every side. She paused a
minute to listen for sounds to lead her back to the gathering, but she couldn't
accurately determine which way to proceed.

She was lost.

She sat down on a felled tree to
contemplate her next move. Common sense told her to stay put, someone would eventually
notice her absence and come looking for her. She hoped.

That someone was Nate. He was calling her
name and she stood up and yelled, "I'm over here." She could just
about imagine what he'd say about her losing her way a second time.

He yelled back for her to keep hollering.
She did, and a few moments later he walked into the cove of trees.

"Admiring the scenery again?"

Because of his distant manner earlier, she
chose not to respond to their private joke.

"You always sneak off from a
gathering in your honor?"

"Not usually."

"Oh, so you're saying you have done
it before."

"Once."

He leaned comfortably against a tree, and
asked, “Is this another one of your stories?"

Vivid tried not to smile but responded,
"I'm afraid so."

Nate wondered just how he was going to
tell her there would be no more kisses when he could barely fight off the urge
to pull her into his arms. "Well, I'm listening."

Vivid could feel herself warming from his
presence. "It happened during the party my mother gave to celebrate my
going away to Michigan."

"She was so glad to get you out of
her hair she gave a party?"

"No," Vivid responded in mock
offense. "You sound like my father. He said much the same thing."

She paused a moment. "As I was
explaining, my mother gave me a big fancy outdoor soiree and invited half of
San Francisco. No one gives parties like Francesca Sarita Valdez
Lancaster."

"That's your mother."

"That's my mother. I put on a fancy
dress, greeted all the guests, and smiled until my face hurt. I was scheduled
to leave in two days, and since I knew the two days would be spent packing and
preparing, I wanted to pay a last visit to my old tree house."

Nate asked, "You had a tree
house?"

"Yes, my father built it for me when
I was six."

"Majestic's been after me to build
her one, but I've been putting her off because I'm afraid she'll fall out and
break her neck."

"Build it for her. Every girl should
have a place she
can call her
own. I spent most of my days in that house, reading, playing, dreaming."

Nate had only envisioned Magic trying to
jump from a tree house or using it for some other derring-do. He'd never
considered it a place for the types of activities Lancaster had just mentioned.
She had given him something to think on. "So you slipped away from your
party for one last look before you left for Michigan."

"I did, and I figured that with such
a crush no one would notice. I went to the tree, climbed the rope
ladder—"

"In a fancy gown?"

"It's tricky, but I'd been doing it
most of my life. I'll have you know that by the time I was ten I could even
climb without tearing the hems loose," she boasted proudly.

Nate shook his head in wondrous amusement.

"What's the matter?" Vivid
asked, seeing the gesture.

"Nothing, go on."

She wondered what he was thinking.
"Well, after I climbed up and began looking at my old dolls and sketchpads
and reading my diaries, I lost track of time. Next thing I knew my mother was
on the ground below angrily calling my name."

"She was not pleased?"

"She was not pleased in two
languages. As I climbed down I felt ten years old again. Here I was, a
certified doctor being feted by hundreds of people, and my mother had to pull
me down out of my tree house."

"What did your father say?" Nate
asked.

"He told my mother to be thankful she
didn't find me behind the house rolling dice in the dirt with the help."

Nate smiled inwardly. "I'd like to
meet this father of yours. Maybe he can give me some tips on raising
Magic."

"My father is a wonderful man. In
fact, that's why I became lost today. I was thinking about my parents and how
much I missed them, and I didn't pay attention to where I was heading."

"Homesick?"

She answered truthfully. "A bit,
yes."

Their eyes met and held.

He said, "Well, we should get back.
By the way, do you do this often?''

"Do I do what often?"