And Ruin Followed Behind Her

Chapter 7-3

WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD, I stormed out of Principal Anderson’s office. Ripping the hair tie out of my hair, I left it on Mrs. Blick’s desk, right beside the moccasins. I didn’t want to be beholden to her kindness. I couldn’t afford to owe anybody favors. I decided to walk home barefoot, with my boots tucked under my arm.

I knew the game that Bob was playing. It was thoroughly explained to me in four years at Northwestern just how disruptive and insidious racial injustice could be, and how hard it was to break. Bob wouldn’t outright fire me, but it was clear that he was going to make my job uncomfortable until I quit, or until he could build up enough of a case to fire me for incompetence and win when I sued him for wrongful termination.

I could call my union rep and tell her that they were hassling me, but she didn’t like me any more than the bitties in the PTA. I was a pariah for the color of my skin, plain and simple. Teaching was all I ever wanted to do, and now I had to tiptoe on eggshells just to walk through the door.

Maybe Mama was right. Maybe I should just get a job at Taft. I would make less money, but it would be less of a hassle, too. They would appreciate me, and my years of schooling, instead of looking to fire me at every turn.

I was visibly shaking with anger when I stomped out of the school and made my way toward the park. I was so upset that I almost didn’t see the white van following behind me. Luckily, Mama taught me to keep my head on a swivel no matter how I felt, and always look for anything suspicious out of the corner of my eye.

I lifted my arm and “oops,” my boots dropped to the ground. When I turned around to pick them up, I got a good look at the driver before he ducked behind the steering wheel. I recognized him as one of the nondescript men standing in the shadows behind Big Jim and his cronies earlier in the day.

I’d heard the stories before. I knew what would come next. They would wait until I was in a secluded area and snatch me. If I avoided them this time, they would wait. They knew who I was and where I lived. It was only a matter of time until I let down my guard enough for them to capture me.

Taking a deep breath, I continued walking. If I could make them believe they hadn’t been spotted, I could lull them into a false sense of security. Then, when the moment was right, I could bolt, leaving them in the dust.

That was my plan until Duncan and his gang walked around the corner in front of me and spotted me. My breath went shallow and the hair on my neck stood on edge. I was about to die. I knew it. Was this how my father felt when they got him?

What I needed was a place to hide, a place to be safe, but I didn’t trust any of the shop owners, not in Chandler. They were all white and in good with Big Jim since he was president of the Chamber of Commerce, among all his other illustrious titles. Any shop owner would surely rat on me, especially if they knew the richest man in town wanted me dead.

Wait, I thought. That wasn’t true.

They weren’t all white. I forgot the tea and curiosities shop across from the park was owned by a black woman. If I could make it there, I had a shot at staying alive. It was my best shot. I turned down the nearest alley and ran until I burst out the other side. The boys turned with me as the van sped up to catch me.

They didn’t know I was fast. Even in my bare feet, I was faster than them—for a short burst, at least. Sprints were my specialty in school, and with the added adrenaline of running for my life, I made it through the alley in record time. The asphalt cut my feet something fierce, but by the time I turned the corner at the other end of the alley I’d put some distance between Duncan and myself.

I needed to make it around the block to get to the tea shop. It was just one block, but I had to do it without being spotted. Quickly, I cut another corner before Duncan and his boys made it down the alley, but the white van saw me and sped up to close the distance. Luckily, the light turned red right as I rounded the bend, and I sped away.

They didn’t need to break the law by running the red light. They knew where I lived. All they had to do was be patient and wait. This block was longer than the last, and Duncan got a glimpse of me before I turned the last corner before the tea shop.

I was across from the park now, and the tea shop was in front of me. The old woman often left for the day while my mother and I ate at Charlotte’s. She seemed nice enough, even if I had no interest in teas. She must have been quite pleasant—and pretty darn savvy—to get approved for a business license in Chandler as a black woman.

Summoning every ounce of my strength, I churned my legs as fast as I could go until I reached the door knob. The door jingled as I flung it open and lunged inside.

The old woman sat quietly behind the counter. She jumped a bit when I entered the door, as if she wasn’t expecting customers. Thank god, she was the only person the place. She turned to me with a puzzled look across her wrinkled face.

“What are you—”

“Shhhhh,” I whispered. “They’re after me.”

“Who?” she asked.

I ducked down under the window as the old woman walked over and peered out. Soon enough, she saw the boys run past, followed by the white van. The old woman shook her head. “Damn fools.”

She turned the “open” sign on her window to closed and flipped off the lights. Only the dim illumination from a dozen or so candles remained. “You must have had quite a fright, huh?”

“Please...don’t talk...”

The old woman shuffled back behind the counter and picked up a ceramic tea pot adorned with tiny, pink fairies. She poured a cup of piping hot tea into a matching teacup and shuffled back over to me. “This will help. Chamomile calms the nerves. Drink up.”

She bent down and handed the cup to me. I didn’t want to drink it, but she had just saved my life, so I was inclined to oblige her. The hot tea coated my throat as it went down, and my labored breathing returned to normal.

“Feel better?” she asked.

I nodded, finishing the last of the tea. “Yes, actually. Much.”

“I thought it might do the trick.”

I stood up, careful to avoid the blinds. “Why are you not more freaked out to see me run into your store?”

The old woman sat back down on the stool behind her register and leaned against a wall of jars, each labeled with a different variety of tea. Some I recognized, like Earl Grey and English Breakfast, and Green Herbal, but there were hundreds I had never heard of before, like Oolong, Matcha, and Darjeeling. There must have been a hundred, maybe a thousand, different varieties. She followed my eyes to the teas and asked, “Do you like tea?”

“I’m more a coffee girl. I drink green tea sometimes when they give you tea at that Chinese restaurant Dim Sum, but it’s not really my thing.”

The old woman smiled, grabbing a pinch of tea from a jar labeled Oolong. “I would think that you haven’t had the right tea, then. There’s tea from all over the world, in every smell, taste, and look imaginable.”

“Yeah, coffee really has, like, one flavor. It’s a great flavor though.”

The old woman placed the tea leaves in a bright pink pot. “To each their own. I love tea. Every day I wake up to a different flavor, and smell, and taste.”

I walked over to the register. Its big metal keys looked out of place around the delicate doilies and pastels around it. In the middle of the room stood a circular, wooden table. All sorts of rocks, mirrors, and crystal balls rested upon it.

“I’ll stick with coffee,” I replied, watching her fill the pot with hot water from a kettle. “Coffee is utilitarian. You get an injection of caffeine, and it lets you suffer through your day.”

“Suffer? Tsk tsk tsk. I don’t think I’ve suffered through one day in my whole, ancient life.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Then you’ve been charmed, especially looking like that and living in Chandler.”

The old woman poured the tea from the pink pot into a matching cup. “No, it hasn’t been easy. I never said it was. It’s never easy for people like me...or your mother.”

“You know my mother then.”

She nodded, taking a sip of the tea. “I have known her most of her life. There are not so many of us, anymore.”

“That’s for sure. Black people are leaving Chandler by the bucket load every chance they get.”

The old woman placed the tea cup down on her register. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

I picked up a purple geode from the counter. There was no price on it. “You talk in a lot of riddles. Did you know that?”

“I have been told it’s part of my charm.”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” I said, placing the geode back down. “Charm, that is.”

“Tell me, Julia, are you a reader?”

I spun to her. “How do you know my name?”

“I told you that I know your mother, but even without that, this is a small town and I am very nosey. I was disappointed that you never stepped through my door before. I’ve waited a long time, but I am happy you are here now.”

“You’ve been waiting for me?” I asked, confused.

She nodded. “Just like I waited for your mother. Though she took far less time than you. I suppose we all have to appreciate tea in our own time.”

“I’m not here for tea, lady. I’m here because I don’t want to get lynched.”

“Of course. We all come for our own reasons, but you did have a reason to be here, and that is what matters.”

“I just want to go home.”

“Home will not be safe for you. Not anymore. The people after you are relentless. After what happened last night, there is no hiding.”

My eyes went big as saucers as my voice cracked with fear. “You know what happened last night?”

She smiled. “Of course. I see all and hear all. There is a reason I picked this location, besides the fabulous weekend foot traffic.”

“And...you aren’t freaked out by...what I did?”

The old woman reached down under her table and pulled up a large book with the words “Pixie Dust” embossed in gold leaf on the red leather cover. The book itself was thick enough to be a weapon.

“I offer this to you,” she told me, tapping the cover. “Take it home. Read it. Study it. It will help you understand what happened to you. Come back once you’ve read it, and I will answer all your questions about why you can disappear.”

“Can’t you just tell me now?” I replied. “I’m not really interested in a study session. I have a lot on my mind.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. This is how it must be. First read, and then we talk.”

I sighed, picking up the heavy book. “And if I read all of this, you’ll stop being a weird, cryptic lady and tell me what’s going on?”

“I promise.” The woman stood up and walked toward the door. She peered out the window for a moment, craning her neck in either direction. Then, she turned to me. “I don’t see them. I believe it’s safe to go but promise me that you will read it.”

I nodded my head. “You saved my life tonight, so I promise. I promise I’ll read it.”

She smiled. “Good. Now, hurry home.”