Grace Amid Darkness

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Trousers

The day was October 6, 1842, and I turned ten years old. Ten! For a birthday treat, Papa let me go into town with him. The horse’s hooves kicked up dirt from the road where it lingered before settling back down, waiting for the next disturbance. Metal clanged from the smithy’s stall and ear-covering screeches came from the sawmill. All of it was exciting.

Brown-paper wrapped packages secured with twine rested on my lap. We had already visited the dressmaker and the shoe cobbler, I was eager to wear them when we returned home. Papa hoped they would fit me when my next birthday came around. He thought I was growing much too fast.

I loved the commotion of the town. Buildings made of neatly stacked bricks towered above the people on the street. Shops, banks, bakeries, and general goods offered their wares on the main level.

People milled about, busy with jobs and errands. Some seemed in a hurry to get where they were going and others lounged by wagons or on sidewalks, visiting. My senses reeled from all the excitement. A passing team of horses neighed their greeting. Wheels ground the road creating ruts on the damp earth. Someone whistled shrill and loud, I couldn’t figure out who it was.

Women gathered on the sidewalks conversing, their bonnets shielded them from the fall sun. Some of the dresses were quite fancy and others were modest in style. I twisted my head to and fro taking everything in.

Papa guided the horses to the hitching post in front of the general store. I jumped down and rushed inside. Papa allowed me to pick out candy for the special occasion. Every flavor was my favorite so I stuffed the bag as full as I could. While I was occupied with the sweets, Papa talked with the proprietor. When the time came to pay, Papa handed me money to purchase the candy myself, like a grownup. I felt so important. When we left the store, Papa headed off to tend to business. I climbed onto the wagon’s seat and popped sweets into my mouth.

A crowd gathered not far away and I craned my neck for a better view. A small group of coloreds was being herded onto a platform. Why was this? What was going on?

Two coloreds waited with their heads hung on their chests, backs bowed. However, there was another man who captured my attention. He stood tall and straight, almost defiant. His stare was strong enough to cut through iron.

I was so focused on the coloreds that when an older white man bellowed slurred words, it startled me. What was he selling? There were no animals penned nearby, no harvest, or seed bags were stacked ready for sale.

The man with the iron gaze was made to step off the platform. He opened his mouth while a finely dressed gentleman peered into it like Papa did with the horses to check if their teeth need clipping.

Sickness welled deep within me when I realized what was being sold. Never could have I imagined such a thing, people being sold.

I twisted and craned my neck to get a better look and almost fell from the wagon seat. What I saw made no sense.

Papa returned and blocked my view, interrupting my attempt to keep an eye on the goings-on. I watched for as long as I could as Papa took us home.

“Papa, why are those colored folks being bid on like animals?”

“Slaves are sometimes traded in such a manner.”

Fearful of the answer, I dared to ask, “Have you ever sold slaves like that? Auction them off?”

He kept his eyes on the road ahead, “Only a couple of times. I try to keep our help in the family.”

I was unaware of the thick trees which surrounded us. Only the men on the platform filled my vision. “But, Papa, they are people, not cows, or horses, or tobacco. How can people be bought and sold? I cannot fathom it.” My thoughts were scrambled, the bag of candy languished on my lap, forgotten.

“It’s the way things are, Anna. Don’t concern yourself with such matters.”

Barely hearing what Papa said, a memory from long ago floated to the surface. I was staring out the window on a hot August day watching Ruby’s mama be carried away. The awful truth washed over me and I dared not ask lest it was confirmed. Misery kept me quiet the whole ride home.

At supper, my food found new places on the plate but did not make it to my mouth. Iris’s apple pie made especially for me failed to stir my hunger.

“What’s with the long face? Were you not spoiled by Papa today?” Jimmy taunted me. His appearance was so much like our father’s but his demeanor was entirely different, alien and hateful.

“Some coloreds were being sold like common stock animals in town today. How can this behavior be acceptable, treating people this way?”

A snicker curled Jimmy’s lips. “You are upset because of slaves being auctioned? And you think they are normal people? Gosh darn, you are weak. Stupid, too. Don’t you understand that’s the way things are? Slaves are bought and sold. We are the ones who control them. You can’t let a trivial matter get you all huffy. Besides, it’s natural for whites to own blacks,” he finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

Papa interrupted our argument. “Jimmy, Anna is entitled to her opinion, the same as you are. Because hers differs from yours does not make her wrong. Y’all need to get along.”

“Well, darn it, her views are spineless. She better toughen up before she gets married and must do those things herself,” Jimmy retorted.

I glared at my brother. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I settled for sticking my tongue out at him.

“Enough, the both of you. I give you the freedom to speak your minds, to be heard as equal parts of this family, but your disrespect of each other is unacceptable.”

I sank back into my chair, abandoning my untouched pie. Why did I think so differently from my brother? Did most folks think like him? Was I wrong for my viewpoint on the situation?

Supper lasted forever before I was able to flee the stifling room. I threw myself on my bed. Try as I might, I could not push away the events of the day. Not even fantasies of adventure made their way into my thoughts. Perhaps the morrow would be a fair day and I could escape the confusion.

The sound of scrubbing led me to Ruby. She was on her hands and knees attacking dirt which dared to settle onto the floor.

I hesitated, my task seemed foolish, but I needed to pursue the question filling my head. She was the only servant I was comfortable asking such a personal, indelicate question. Ruby peered at me from her crouched position.

“Can I hep you wit something, Miss Anna?”

I pulled my fingernail from between my teeth. “Ruby, is your life here…acceptable? What I mean to say is, do you find yourself afraid of bad things happening to you?”

The brush plopped into the bucket with a splash. Chapped hands were wiped on the pleats of her skirt. “I reckon I don’t know. Sometimes, I be cold during winter nights. But I be warm when I’m here at da big house and dat be nice. Da upper floors can be chilly, but da vents help keep da worst of da chill away.”

I prodded further, “Are you worried about being, um, well, sold?”

She sat back on her heels. “I used ta be afraid after Mama was taken away, but I don’ worry much about it anymore. I like working here in da house. Iris and Glory be kind ta me. My clothes are finer than when I worked in da barn. Plus, we gets a fair share of the kitchen leftovers. So, I guess alls be good. It be a strange thing, ain’t nobody ever asked me a question like dat befo’.”

She shrugged her shoulders and returned to scrubbing the floor.

I was not sure if I asked what I needed. Truthfully, how do I ask a slave if they are scared of being sold? I shall continue to search for an answer to an impossible question.

* * *

I approached breakfast with caution. Dressed in my new for me clothes, I eased myself into the room as if all is normal.

Papa’s eyebrows raised and his eyes followed me as I made my way to my chair. My dear brother guffawed and choked. Not sure if I was going to continue with the meal, I dug into my food.

Papa cleared his throat. “I believe somehow your brother’s old clothes landed on you.”

I smoothed the wrinkles in the trousers. My body shook and the words tumbled out, “Papa, when I wear skirts outside they get full of brambles, caked with dirt, and oh, so heavy if they get wet. Layers of fabric are a burden and are ever so bothersome. The trousers allow me to move so much better. Please, do not be cross with me, but I prefer wearing trousers when I play and ride.”

His unwavering stare sent a chill across my skin. Expecting a sharp command to return to my room, I was surprised by a small nod of his head before he dipped his fork to his eggs. Taking a cue from him, I scooped into the buttered grits, however, the uneasy sensation of not all is right settled over me. I was afraid that was the last time I was to wear my different clothes.

Papa laid his knife and fork across his plate, the clank of metal on porcelain the only sound in the room. I lowered my hand to the table, waiting for what was to come.

“Anna, you are going against conventional ways girls dress. That being said, you put forth a valid argument. How about we come to an agreement? When in the house you present yourself as the fine young lady you are being raised to be and when engaging in outdoor activities you may be permitted to wear your new costume.”

I didn’t get a moment to process what Papa has said because my brother was laughing at me. “She looks like a boy. This is most amusing. I dare say, I’ve never seen such an absurd way for a girl to present herself. Oh, you really are too much.”

I ignored him and focused on what Papa said. “Yes, please, I agree.”

Jimmy slapped the table with his palm and let out a full chortle.

“Hush now, Jimmy. Your sister made a choice in regard to what is right for her. She may not dress in a manner you are accustomed to, but it suits her. I allow you to dress as you choose and I shall grant her the same privilege. She and I reached an agreement which satisfies both of us.”

“I can’t wait to wear a dress out to work the fields,” Jimmy retorted.

“You might learn something if you did, perhaps you would understand your sister’s side of the situation. You best leave her alone, the decision has been made.” Papa frowned at Jimmy.

“May I be excused?” I pushed away from the table before Papa answered and my dear brother fired off another comment.

I was out the door lickedy-split in my trousers before Papa changed his mind. Leaves of red, orange, and gold clung to branches, the fallen ones created a fine-colored carpet.

My first destination was the creek where I put on my imaginary Buccaneer hat and swung my sword.

I delighted in the freedom of the clothes, especially while jumping along rocks and climbing. From a high in a tree, I surveyed the creek as it meandered through the hills of the Virginia countryside.

After the sun had set and the stars came from their hiding places, I snuggled into bed and savored my victory, proud of myself for the courage it took to walk into the dining room dressed as I was.

My eyes drifted shut. The heaviness of the quilt reminded me that colder weather was coming. A notion stirred in my head.