Fiction

Whigham, GA, August 3, 1907

I looked up at Nettie. Studied her sharply angled face, her high cheekbones, those autumn brown, almond-shaped eyes. Her dark skin glistened in the heat as we walked. She stared straight ahead, her eyes focused on some point far down the dusty dirt road.

Noah was with us. Distracted by everything he saw, stumbling because he wanted to stop and examine things, anything. But Nettie kept dragging him along. It felt like she was in a hurry to get me to Olive’s house. I didn’t understand why. Maybe Noah felt it too. Maybe his antics were his way of trying to slow us down.

I was on Nettie’s right side, Noah on her left. We were all holding hands. I was carrying a small burlap sack that contained everything I could call mine. We were walking away from our cabin. The only place I knew to call home.

Yesterday, Nettie asked me to come and sit on the front porch steps with her. After we sat down, she announced that she was going to take me to live with my grandmother Olive.

“Why?” I asked.

“Well, the other day, I ran into your Grandma Olive in front of Chapman’s store. She told me that she wants you to start school in the fall. She wants you to move in with her before it starts. I’m taking you to her tomorrow.”

The school was just across the street from Chapman’s Dry Goods. When we went for groceries, Noah and I stood along the side of the building and looked across the street at children playing in the yard. There were two swings under a big oak in the middle of the school yard. I always wanted to try swinging on one. Nettie wouldn’t ever let us do it, even when the kids weren’t there. Going to school sounded like an adventure, but I couldn’t see what it had to do with moving to Olive’s house. “School sounds okay. I want to go to school, but I don’t need to live with Olive. I’ll stay here. That way Noah and I can walk to school together.”

Nettie shook her head. “You ever see colored children at the school Roy? Noah won’t be going with you. School is for white children. Colored children aren’t allowed.”

White, colored, what did that have to do with going to school? We had a small mirror in our cabin. Nettie used it from time to time, but Noah and I weren’t supposed to mess with it. Nettie worried we might break it. Awhile back, she left it out when she went to the privy. I found it and held it up to my face. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe what I saw. My face was so white, and there were little brown dots all over it. I was ugly. I didn’t look anything like Noah or Nettie. When she came back in, I showed her, and she explained that I was white, and she and Noah were brown. “What white folks in town call colored,” she said. 

I stared at her face. She was beautiful, even with sad eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. It can’t be true.”

She put her arm around me and pulled me close. “Roy, I’ve known this day was coming since Olive brought you to me. I done told you part of this story plenty of times. When you was just two days old, your mama died and you was starving to death. Olive, well she begged me to take you in, feed you—so I did. Early on, all I could think was, soon as you was off the breast, I’d send you back. And I meant to, but the longer I had you, the more that thought faded. I started thinking of you as mine, you was such a precious thing.” She squeezed me. “You still is. But I knew I couldn’t keep you. I kept telling myself I needed to tell you, so that when the time came, you’d be ready. I’m sorry Roy, so sorry. I just couldn’t never do it. We’ve been so happy together and I guess I just pretended if I didn’t tell you, then we could stay happy longer. But the time has come, and you must go.”

“But why Nettie, why can’t I stay here?”

She sighed. “The real world doesn’t allow for white boys to live in a colored home to be raised by a colored woman. Now with you growing up, folks are already starting to talk. I hear it behind our backs. Lately, I’ve been leaving you and Noah at home when I go to town because it could cause trouble. White folk and colored folk just don’t mingle. I even think there may be some laws against it.”

I didn’t understand. It made no sense. I kept asking why and Nettie kept trying to explain it. No matter what she said, or how hard I tried to grasp what she was saying, I couldn’t. 

After a hundred whys, Nettie finally gave up in exasperation and told me to hush, but I wouldn’t. I told her that I didn’t want to go and live with Olive. I didn’t want to be away from Noah. I was terrified at the thought of leaving my home, of leaving her.

The more I begged, the more I pleaded, the more resolute she became. Finally, when she couldn’t bear it any longer, she yelled. She said things that I knew were true, but I could not accept. “Roy, stop being such a pest! You aren’t my child. I didn’t adopt you, and I was never meant to raise you! You don’t belong here. I’m not your mother, and Noah is not your brother!”

Her words made me cry—loud, uncontrollable wailing with rivers of tears streaming down my face. Nettie had always been there to console me, to hug me, to dry my eyes and reassure me that I was going to be ok. But this time, she didn’t. She grabbed a laundry basket and went out the back door. She began gathering clothes from the clothesline. Noah came out onto the porch and sat beside me.

I don’t know how long I cried. I got so tired that I stopped for a little while, but then I looked at Noah and he looked at me and I started crying again. Noah joined in. We hugged and rocked back and forth. It was almost as good as a hug from Nettie. We finally quit crying and just sat there until the sun went down.

Later, when we went to bed, Nettie wrapped her arms around me and whispered in my ear. She told me over and over that everything was going to be fine. Grandma Olive and Uncle Thomas were family. They’d take care of me. I’d be happy there. Starting school next fall would open a whole new world for me. After what seemed like forever, she fell asleep. But I didn’t.

I lay in bed with Nettie breathing softly next to me. Noah was on her other side, sleeping soundly. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t imagine that it was going to be fine. I belonged with Nettie and Noah. I had shared a bed with them my whole life. When it was cold, we would huddle together in a tight knot. I liked being in the middle, but so did Noah. Noah was a heavy sleeper, so I’d let him have the middle and then lay awake until he was very still, and his breathing was deep and slow. That’s when I’d make my move, tunneling under the quilt and squirming in between him and Nettie. I’d fall asleep in seconds. In the morning, Noah would profess outrage at having been displaced. The confrontation usually ended with a wrestling match until Nettie lost her patience and threw us both out of the bed.

I tried to imagine what it would be like at Olive’s. Where would I sleep? Who would I sleep with? Noah and I were afraid to go to the privy at night. So, if one of us had to go, we both went. Would I have to go by myself now? Would Noah have to go alone as well? In my heart, I knew that Nettie would go with him.

There was so much to figure out, and I didn’t want to have to do that. Maybe when we got there, we would all sit around a table at Olive’s and talk it through. Nettie could explain everything. Once she finished telling Olive and Thomas what I would need, well, maybe everyone would decide that it was best if I just stayed with her. Or maybe Olive and Thomas would be so happy to see me, they would fall all over themselves trying to make everything just right. We’d even work out a plan where I could spend lots of time with Noah.

The heat and a long stretch of road with no shade pulled me back to the moment. It was a dry, hot August. Cornfields stretched out on either side. The leaves were drooping and the tassels on husks were withered. I could see a line of trees in the distance. I knew we were getting close.

When we reached Olive’s cabin, we were drenched in sweat. We approached just close enough to stand under an enormous live oak that stretched across the yard. The shade was a relief. Nettie stopped unexpectedly and still holding hands, Noah and I were jolted to a stop. I looked up at her and followed her gaze to Olive’s cabin. It looked about the same as ours, except it was rundown and ill kept. Nettie was obsessed with keeping our place spotless. In the spring, she’d spend hours pulling weeds and grass from the yard, all the way to the road. Once the ground was naked, she’d regularly sweep it. A few years ago, she hired a man to repair the siding and put a new metal roof on. She’d been painstakingly saving for years, and it had taken every penny we had.

Olive’s yard was deep in weeds and bushes. To see the whole cabin, you had to stand right where we were, on the narrow path that led from the road to the porch. The siding was gray and weathered. The roof was rusty. I watched Nettie scan her surroundings. I could sense her thoughts. She wanted to get on her hands and knees and start pulling weeds. I half expected her to do it and enlist us to help. That’s when Olive came out the front door.

Nettie locked her eyes on Olive. She placed her hand between my shoulder blades and gave me a gentle push. When I resisted, she moved her hand to my chin and turned my face toward hers. “It’s time to go Roy. You got family waiting. Don’t make your grandmother have to stand out in this heat. Go on now.”

I had never seen Nettie cry, and I wasn’t sure she was crying now. But her eyes seemed like deep pools, and she was blinking faster than seemed normal. I wrapped my arms around her leg.

Olive was squinting at us. “Roy, come on up now. I’m sure Miss Nettie has other business to attend to.” She gave a nod toward Nettie, but Nettie didn’t respond. 

That’s when Thomas limped out of the house. He was dirty and disheveled. He had a long gray beard that was stained at the corners of his mouth. Despite the heat, he wore a long-sleeved, heavy cotton shirt. He was skinny, and his threadbare pants were held up by thick suspenders. He offered a toothless grin. “Why howdy Miss Nettie. Ain’t you just looking fine! Why I know it’s been years since we last saw each other and yet you ain’t changed one bit. Say, you ever find yourself another man after that fella of yours up and left you? Willie was his name as I recall.”

A look came over Nettie’s face that I had never seen before. Without looking away from Olive and Thomas, she pulled me off her leg and put her hand back between my shoulder blades. But this time she shoved me, hard. I stumbled forward, and before I could recover, Nettie yanked Noah around and hurried away without a word. I wanted to run after them, get away from this place, but I knew I couldn’t. Nettie would just drag me back.

Bewildered, I looked back at the porch. Olive was motioning to me. “Come on child, get on up here and let me take a closer look at you. I haven’t seen you in what seems like forever, and I think you must be a foot taller than that last time; don’t you think so Thomas?”

Thomas leaned forward on his cane so that his head was just beyond the edge of the porch. He cleared his throat and spit. Brown spittle spiraled through the air. Some of it caught in his beard. He leered. “What are you now boy, five, six maybe? You a stunted little thing even for that age. I reckon you’ll be a dwarf your whole life—taking after your mother I suppose. Why, a stiff wind coulda blowed her all the way to the Carolinas.” His eyes brightened. “Or maybe you never got enough to eat, that Nettie making sure she and her boy always got their fill before you got any. That could explain it—or you need wormin', maybe both.”

Olive scowled. “You leave the boy alone Thomas and stop saying such awful things. Go on and get yourself back inside.” Thomas glared at Olive without moving. She stepped closer. “Do as I say or so help me, I’m gonna shove you off this porch and if the fall don’t kill you, I’ll come down and finish the job.”

Thomas turned and dragged himself toward the door. “No need to get all upset Olive. I’m just funnin’ with the boy. He got to be some use.”

I was paralyzed. I had no idea what was happening. Without speaking, Olive came down from the porch and ushered me into the cabin, my new home.

There was a front door and a back door. Both were open and a gentle breeze ran through the house. There were no windows. A canopy of live oaks sent branches above the roof that blocked out most of the sunlight. Even though it was only mid-afternoon, inside it felt like the sun was about to set.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Thomas was sitting in a chair near the back door. There was a cast iron stove five feet from him. Its chimney barely cleared the top of the stove before turning ninety degrees and passing through the wall.

Olive took me to the stove and pointed to a pile of neatly folded quilts lying on the floor behind it. “This is where you’ll sleep Roy. We don’t light the stove much in the summer, but we try to keep it going all the time when the weather starts turning cold. It’ll be a blessing if you could see to it that the fire stays lit when we need it. We keep a stack of wood just outside the back door there. Its right hard on us if we have to get up at night to tend it.”

Thomas turned in his chair and glared. “What Olive is saying boy, if you’re going to live in this house, sleep here, eat our food, why then we expect you to earn it. You turn out to be a slackard, or you get contrary about what we tell you to do, then you’ll end up sleeping on the bare floor.”

I crouched under the stovepipe and crawled to my new bed. The quilts were old and worn, but clean. I ran my hand over the topmost. It was soft and thick.

“I sewed those quilts from flour sacks.” Olive announced from behind me. “Not much to look at and they surely wouldn’t win a prize at the fair, but they’ll keep you warm, even in February.” 

I turned and looked at her. “Miss Olive, will I be sleeping here all by myself?”

She must have seen the desperate look on my face. Her eyes widened and a tender smile crossed her lips. “I never knew until just this moment how much you look like your daddy. We call him Little John, even nowadays when he’s all grown up. When he was a babe, he had trouble with the ‘M’ sound, so when I tried to teach him to say mama, it always came out nana.” She shrugged her shoulders. “The name just stuck. Why don’t you call me Nana too?” She pointed to a narrow bed pushed against the far wall. “I sleep over there, it’s too narrow for two. Thomas sleeps in his chair. Besides, we’re way too old and stiff to be climbing down there with you. This can be your special place.”

Without another word, Olive walked to the table and started shelling peas. Thomas began snoring. I felt the sudden urge to pee, so I went out the backdoor looking for the privy. A narrow path from the cabin led to it. It seemed a long way off. I’d have to make sure I never needed to go there after dark.

Further on from the privy, there was a chicken coop with a run. Half a dozen hungry looking hens scratched in the bare earth. Not far from the coop, was a smoke house. I peaked in. It was empty. Behind the smoke house, was an area with large, blackened timbers jutting up at odd angles. Kicking through the debris, I found a rusted hay fork and some enormous hinges. There must have been a barn that burned down.

The path ended at a tiny stream. The water was clear and cool. As I walked along the edge, I spooked a frog that was sunning on a log. It arced through the air and splashed into the water. A few minnows darted around the commotion. At Nettie’s, we got our water from a tiny brook that fed the Sweetwater Branch. With the path coming back this far, I figured this is where Olive and Thomas got their water.

Dinner was a meager affair. The food was alright, but the portions were small, half an ear of boiled corn, a few chunks of new potato, a tiny slice of some sort of potted meat. No one spoke as we ate. Dinner with Nettie and Noah could be raucous. Noah and I were always in competition, vying for the most elaborate adventure story of the day. Nettie would listen attentively and always laugh when something was supposed to be funny.

I helped Olive wash the dishes and put them away. Thomas returned to his roost. There was a stool with a big pillow on it in front of the chair.  I watched as he struggled to get his left leg up onto it. When he saw me staring, he frowned. “I shouldn’t have to say something boy. Get over here and help me.”

While I helped Thomas get comfortable, Olive sat back down at the table. She lit a candle and pulled some knitting needles out of a bag at her side. She examined the results of her previous effort, then she began knitting. Without looking up, she announced, “I’m making a sweater for you Roy. It’s likely to take me a month or two. It should be ready by the time you need it.”

I watched, transfixed, as her plump, gnarled fingers effortlessly guided the needles around the thread. The hypnotic movement cast a spell on me, and in a few moments, I felt my eyelids getting heavy. A yawn escaped my lips.

“It’s been a long day Roy, why don’t you go crawl into your new bed?” Olive said without looking up from her work.

I nodded and crawled under the stovepipe. It was too warm to get under the quilts, so I laid on top. I rolled onto my back and stared at the rafters. A second ago, I was falling asleep standing up, and now, lying here, I was suddenly wide awake.

I tried to understand the day. It was impossible. Perhaps in the morning I would ask Olive what the trouble was between them and Nettie. It sure seemed to me that something had happened that caused a divide. But then I thought better of it. It might make Olive mad. She wasn’t anything like Nettie, but she seemed nice enough. She was kind when she talked to me and now, she was making a sweater for me. If I got the chance, I could share stories about what it was like being with Nettie and Noah. Once she got a better picture, she’d have to like them. Then they would become friends.

Thomas was different. Always seemed angry. Maybe it was his leg. Maybe it pained him so much that it colored his whole world, made him angry with everything and everyone. That had to be it. I can work on that. Make sure he has as little discomfort as possible. Do what I can to soothe his misery.

I rolled onto my side and wiggled into the quilts. I tossed and turned. I tried leaning against the wall, but it was hard and straight. I started to cry. Just tears at first, then sniffles, then long soft wails punctuated with sobs.

I heard Thomas shift in his chair. Then his voice rang out. “I expect you to quit that caterwauling right now. We won’t have it. Quit it now or I’ll take my cane to you.”

I rolled onto my hands and knees. I crawled under the stovepipe and scurried to the front door. It was still open. There was a halfmoon that made the yard brighter than the dark cabin. I ran down the path and onto the road.

An hour later, exhausted, I stumbled into our yard and called out to Nettie. Sleepy-eyed, she met me on the porch dressed in her nightgown. Noah was standing behind her. He was holding onto Nettie’s gown. His eyes were wide and there was a faint smile on his face. He looked happy to see me.

“What on earth you doing back here, Roy?”

I hadn’t planned on having to explain it. She had to know. I looked down at the floor. Nettie’s bare feet peaked out from under her gown. Her toes were curled like she was trying to hold on. I looked back up, trying to read her face in the darkness. “They made me sleep by myself on the floor. I don’t like it there. Please let me stay, please.”

Nettie’s shoulders slumped. She reached out, put her hand behind my head, and pulled me to her. I grabbed her leg and put an arm around Noah. We stood like that for a while, Nettie softly running her fingers through my hair.

“You can stay the night. But in the morning, you’re going back and this time you’re staying.” We went into the house and climbed into bed. Curled up beside Nettie and Noah, I was asleep in seconds.

Nettie was all business in the morning. We had a hasty breakfast and then she grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. Noah started to follow, but Nettie shook her head. “You stay inside ‘til I get back Noah. I won’t be gone long.”

It was early, and the air wasn’t hot yet. Nettie walked so fast that I almost had to run to keep up with her. If I fell behind, she pulled on my arm. We got to the corn fields, and I could see the tree line that was just before Olive’s cabin. Nettie stopped and kneeled so that we were eye to eye. Her face was stern. “This is a far as I’m going Roy. I’m going back. You’re going on to Olive’s, and you’re going to stay. I’m done fighting with you. I got better things to do. If you come back to my house, why I’ll get Sheriff Martin to arrest you for trespass. You ain’t welcome anymore.” She stood up. Now get on, get out of my sight.”

She pushed me toward Olive’s. I stumbled a few steps, stopped and looked back. Nettie was standing with her hands on her hips. She looked angry, but tears were running down her cheeks. She whispered goodbye, turned, and started back down the road as fast as she could go.