Candle in the Darkness

  “But Mother does.”

  His crooked smile faded. “I know. But that’s different. Your mother is . . . delicate. You’re a strong, healthy girl.”

  I waited for him to take another sip of his drink, then I blurted the truth. “But I’m scared to go.”

  “All the more reason why you should go. You need to make friends with girls your own age, Sugar. Get over your shyness.”

  I hung my head in disappointment, fighting tears. Daddy set his drink on the desk and leaned forward to lift my chin.

  “Look at me, Caroline. I happen to agree with your mother this time. You’ve been spending far too much time with Tessie and Eli and all the other Negro servants. You’re a young lady now, and it’s high time you made some proper friends.”

  “But they are my friends—my very best friends.”

  “No, Sugar. I don’t want to hear any more arguments, understand?”

  I nodded, choking back tears and protests. Daddy appeared satisfied as he settled in his chair again. But at the mention of Tessie, I remembered the awful scene I had awakened to that morning and the other question I needed to ask.

  “Daddy, where did those men take Grady?”

  He selected a cigar from the box that Gilbert held out to him. “You don’t need to worry about all that, Caroline.”

  “Tessie said we’ll never see him again. Is that true?”

  “Yes,” he said with a sigh. “Yes, I suppose it is true.”

  “But why? What did Grady do wrong to make you send him away?”

  “Why, not a thing, Sugar. What made you think that he had?”

  “Some of the men in that wagon had chains on their legs, like they were going to prison.”

  He shook his head. “They’re not going to prison. Only slaves who have tried to run away wear chains. I’m sure Tessie’s boy has better sense than that.”

  “Tessie said it was all Mother’s fault. That sending Grady away 29 was her doing.”

  Daddy’s expression changed. He looked very uncomfortable all of a sudden, and he stirred in his armchair as if the springs had poked him. For an awful moment I was afraid that I’d made him angry, that he would glare at me in the same hateful way that Tessie had. But Daddy looked down at the cigar he was fingering, not at me.

  “Listen, Caroline. Grady is a grown boy now. It’s time for him to go out into the world, just like it’s time for you to go to school. You need to make new friends, and he needs to start earning his keep.”

  “But Grady does earn his keep. He helps Eli with the horses, and he carries water and wood for Esther, and—”

  “A bright, healthy boy like Grady can be trained for something useful—how to be a blacksmith or a carpenter or some other trade that will benefit his new owner. Besides, we have enough help around here without him.”

  “But Grady—”

  “Hush.” Papa placed his fingers over my lips to silence me. “We no longer own Grady. I sold him. And that’s the last I ever want to hear about the boy. Understand? Forget about him.”

  Daddy finished his drink in one gulp and laid aside the unlit cigar. “You’ll have to excuse me now, Caroline. Your mother and I are expecting company for dinner and I need to get ready.”

  Esther fed me all by myself upstairs in my bedroom that evening. She looked worn out from cooking all day. “Missy,” she said, wiping the sweat from her face with her apron, “I so tired I could fall asleep standing up, just like the horses do.”

  “Will Tessie come up to tuck me in bed?” I asked.

  “No, child,” she said gently. “Let Tessie finish grieving in peace. She be herself tomorrow. You see.”

  “But who will help me get undressed? I can’t reach the fasteners in back by myself . . . or undo my corset laces . . .”

  “It have to be Luella or Ruby. I clean wore out.” She turned to leave the bedroom, then paused. “And listen, Missy. Don’t you be talking about Grady and asking Tessie bunch of questions tomorrow. Best thing is to forget him, and she can’t do that if you talking about him all time.”

  It was what my father had told me, too. Forget him. Forget Grady.

  “But may I ask her—”

  “No, Miss Caroline. You can’t be asking her nothing about that poor boy.”

  The day ended as strangely as it had begun. Luella came upstairs to help me undress, but her hands were so rough and callused from all her scrubbing and polishing that I only allowed her to unfasten my bodice and loosen the corset laces. I took off my petticoats by myself. Luella didn’t know how to pull back the bedcovers like Tessie always did, either. Or how to tuck me in properly.

  It seemed strange to see my mammy’s empty mat across the room. I had never gone to sleep all by myself before. I begged Luella to leave a candle burning.

  “Just don’t be setting the house afire,” she warned before hurrying back to the kitchen to finish scrubbing the dishes.

  As I lay in bed watching the candle’s wavering flame, I couldn’t help thinking about Grady even though Daddy and Esther had told me not to. I’d watched Grady nurse at Tessie’s breast and helped him take his first toddling steps. I’d seen him grow from a plump, contented baby to a carefree little boy who’d played with me as if we were brother and sister. We’d romped in the garden together, climbed the magnolia tree, and pestered Big Eli while he worked, barraging him with our endless questions. Soon Grady had grown big enough to be put to work, and while I’d learned to read and write, he had learned how to take care of the horses and grease the carriage wheels. But every afternoon when our work was finished, we had played together.

  Grady was as happy and good-natured as his mother, and the chores he did every day—hauling wood and toting water— molded him into a sturdy, muscular youth. By the age of nine, he’d grown as tall as me and twice as strong. But he had looked so small and helpless this morning as those men had dragged him down the sidewalk, so lost and despairing as they’d thrown him into that slave wagon. Daddy said I had to forget him. He said I would never see Grady again.

  I rolled over onto my stomach, buried my face in the pillow, and sobbed.

  Chapter Two

  September 1853

  On my first day of school at the Richmond Female Institute, I was so terrified I refused to get out of bed. Tessie had to yank the covers off my head, pry my fingers from the sheets, and drag me out of it. She kept up a steady stream of chatter as she wrestled me into my new uniform, telling me how much I would like the new school, how many new friends I was going to make, and a lot of other foolish things like that.

  “But I’m scared!” I wept. “Don’t make me go, Tessie. I’m scared!”

  She finally stopped coaxing, and a frown creased her smooth brow. Even when she was angry, Tessie was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Her figure didn’t need a corset to give it a perfect hourglass shape, and she wore her faded, homespun dresses with the grace and elegance of a fine lady in silks. Tessie’s face was perfectly proportioned, too, with a delicately flattened nose, thick, full lips, and slanted, almond-shaped eyes. Daddy had purchased her as my mammy a month before I was born, when Tessie was just fourteen.

  She gave my shoulders a gentle shake. “Stop you fussing, Missy. Why you want to be shaming you daddy thisa way? Don’t you know he one of the richest men in this city? How you think he feel if his only child scared to leave her own house? You want people laugh behind his back?”

  I stuck out my lower lip, defiant. “Mother never leaves the house.”

  “Humph!” Tessie grunted. “And don’t all of Richmond know that, too? You be strong, now, like you daddy. Else you be growing up all strange-acting, like you mama—lying around in bed all day, crying all the time, swallowing them pills.”

  I stared at Tessie, too shocked to speak. Never in my life had I heard any of the servants speak so disrespectfully about my mother. I wanted to slap Tessie for saying such things—even if they were true. My daddy would probably whip her good if I ever told him what she
’d said. But I knew it was because Tessie still blamed my mother for selling Grady to another owner.

  The day after they’d taken Grady away, I had awakened to find Tessie throwing open my window shutters, just like she always did, and saying, “Time to get up, sleepyhead.” I’d waited until she sat down on my bed, then I’d wrapped my arms around her and hugged her for a long, long time. I could tell by the way she hugged me back that she had missed me, too. I remembered what Esther said and didn’t ask Tessie any questions about Grady. Tessie never once mentioned her son, either. Everything seemed the same—except Grady was gone, and Tessie no longer sang or hummed to herself.

  Now Tessie took advantage of my shock after her bitter words about my mother to finish buttoning me into my uniform bodice. Her words had hit their mark, though. I did want my daddy to be proud of me. And I didn’t want to stay in my room most of the time like my mother did.

  Tessie brushed my hair, then steered me over to the bedroom table where a plate of ham and biscuits with redeye gravy awaited me. My stomach rolled sickeningly at the smell, even though I usually loved Esther’s ham and biscuits.

  “I can’t eat. . . .”

  “Yes, you can, baby,” Tessie said gently. “Come on, now.” She crouched down beside me and began spoon-feeding me small bites, as if I were two years old instead of twelve. When she saw that I’d reached my limit, she helped me to my feet again. “You daddy wants to see you before he leave for work. He in the library.”

  I descended the gracefully curved stairs with dragging feet. Daddy sat behind his desk reading the Richmond Enquirer while he ate his breakfast. He folded the paper and laid it aside when he saw me.

  “Well, now. Aren’t you quite the young lady in your new uniform?” I wanted to beg him not to make me go, but my mouth was so dry I couldn’t talk. “You’ll be the prettiest girl in school— and the smartest one, too. You mark my words.”

  Before I could reply, Esther shuffled into the room. “You wanting more coffee, Massa Fletcher?”

  “No, I’ll be on my way shortly. I was just waiting to see Caroline off on her first day of school.”

  “That gal looking mighty sickly, if you ask me,” Esther mumbled as she turned to leave. “Strong wind blow her clear to Washington, D.C.”

  Daddy stood. “I know you’re nervous on your first day, Sugar. It’s only natural. But I want you to be a brave girl for me, all right? Make me proud of you.”

  I remembered Tessie’s words and mumbled, “I-I’ll try.”

  I followed him into the front hallway where Gilbert waited with Daddy’s hat. Outside, our carriage stood at the curb.

  “Can Eli drive me to school?” I begged. I had always been a little afraid of Gilbert with his slightly pompous ways, but I loved gentle Eli. I spent more time with him than with any other person except Tessie.

  “Well . . . all right.”

  This was the first good news I’d heard all morning. With Eli beside me I wouldn’t feel so alone. “Can he walk all the way inside the school with me, too? Please, Daddy?”

  He hesitated a moment, then nodded. “All right, but tell him he has to wear livery, not his dirty old stable clothes.” He said this loudly enough for Tessie to hear as she waited in the hallway behind us.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied. “I tell him.”

  I was sick to my stomach before leaving, losing the small amount of food I’d eaten for breakfast. Tessie hugged me goodbye and hustled me into the carriage, heedless of my tears and pallid face. Eli snapped the reins, and we quickly drove off. But as soon as we’d rounded the corner, out of sight of the house, we stopped again. Eli hopped down from the driver’s seat and, to my utter amazement, climbed into the back of the carriage and sat down beside me. I quickly scrambled into the safety of his arms, burying my face in his broad chest.

  “I’m scared, Eli! I don’t want to go.” It felt different to hug him in his scratchy uniform, and he didn’t smell like the same old Eli I loved. At least his deep, gentle voice was the same.

  “I know, Missy. I know you scared.”

  “Please, take me back home . . . or . . . or let’s just drive around all day.”

  “Now, you know I can’t do that. Massa Fletcher have my hide if I don’t do exactly what he say. But why all this fussing? You forget all them stories I tell you and Grady? You forget how Massa Jesus always with you, taking good care you?”

  “Tell me again,” I begged.

  I loved listening to Eli talk about Massa Jesus. It seemed like ages since I’d sat with Eli in the carriage house, Grady on one of his knees and me on the other, listening as he told us what the Good Book said. I was pretty sure that Eli’s Jesus was the same person who the minister preached about every Sunday in church, but the stories sounded better when Eli told them. They sounded as though they might have really happened.

  “It ain’t doing no good to tell you again,” he warned, “if you not hiding them words in you heart.”

  He tapped his chest with his forefinger, and I remembered how Grady, solemn-eyed, would tap his own chest in imitation and say, “They in there, Eli. They all hiding right down in there.”

  I pointed to my heart. “I’ll remember. I promise.”

  “All right, then.” Eli settled back against the carriage seat and I leaned against him, gripping his burly arm. “In olden times,” he began, “there a great big giant man name Goliath. Everybody scared of him. Grown men run and hide when he come out, waving his shiny sword all around in the air. ‘Who gonna fight me?’ Goliath ask every day. And I shamed to tell you that all them soldiers in God’s army so scared they turn tail and run.

  “Then one day little David come along. He bringing some ham and sweet potatoes to his brothers in the army. Now, David hardly believing the way them grown men running scared. So little David say, ‘I fight him! I fight Goliath ’cause I ain’t afraid! I got God on my side.’

  “Then David tell the king how one time he and God kill theirselves a lion, and how they kill a bear another time. And David, he just as sure as can be that he and God can lick old Goliath, too. So the king say, ‘All right, son. You go ahead, now. You go kill that giant.’

  “Goliath like to laugh hisself silly when he see little David stepping out to fight him. Goliath say, ‘What you think I am? A dog? Why you send a boy out here to fight a giant man?’

  “But David say, ‘No sir! You fight with a big old sword and a fancy spear, but I fight in the name of the Lord God Almighty! And He gonna help me lick you!’

  “Goliath got all riled up when David say that. But David still not scared. He drop a stone in his slingshot, and he twirl it round and round, and when he let go, the Lord sent that stone a-flying straight into Goliath’s head. Knock him right to the ground, dead as a doorknob.”

  I felt the same thrill I’d always felt at the end of Eli’s stories. He spoke so confidently about God, convinced of His strength and power.

  “Now then,” Eli said, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze, “what you gonna hide away in you heart?”

  “That . . . um . . . that if God is with me . . . I don’t have to be afraid of giants?”

  He grinned. “Not giants or anything else what stands in you way. And you know why that is?”

  “Because God will help me fight them?”

  “That’s not a question, Little Missy, that’s the truth! The Lord always by you side if you ask Him to be. He fight all you battles. He gonna walk beside you into that old school today and you don’t have to be scared of nothing.”

  I gulped, trying to feel brave. “Will . . . will you come inside with me?”

  “What you need me for, Missy? Massa Jesus is with you!”

  “I-I know, but . . . will you come inside anyway?”

  He shook his head as if he was disappointed in me, but I saw a glint of laughter in his dark eyes. He broke into a gentle grin. “Sure thing, Missy Caroline. I go with you just as far as they let me go.”

  The carriage rocked as he jumped down from
his place beside me, then swayed again as he climbed into the driver’s seat. The motion made my stomach roll. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the Lord sitting on one side of me and the boy David on the other side, slingshot in hand. In my mind, David looked a lot like Grady.

  Eli whistled and snapped the reins. The carriage lurched forward. We turned onto Franklin Street, and a few minutes later we were hurtling down Church Hill. I could see the city and the capitol building up ahead, perched on the next hill we would have to climb. Traffic slowed when we reached the bottom, then came to a halt near Fourteenth Street to allow a gang of Negroes to cross in front of us. Some wore chains on their legs. I watched them enter a fortress-like building where black faces peered from behind barred windows.

  I scrambled over to the opposite seat to kneel behind Eli, hanging on to his broad shoulders to keep from falling. “Is this where they brought Grady?” I asked in a hushed voice.

  “I reckon so. This where they hold the slave auction.”

  “Wait!” I cried as the carriage began slowly moving forward again. “Can’t we go look for him? Maybe we can find him and bring him back home.” I began scanning the dark, somber faces, but when I glanced at Eli he was staring at the reins in his hands, shaking his head.

  “Ain’t no use, Missy. Nice boy like our Grady be long gone by now.”

  “But where? Where did he go?”

  “Only the Good Lord know that.”

  I knew from the globe in my daddy’s library that the world was a very huge place. The thought of my friend Grady all alone out there gave me a lost, helpless feeling. I glanced over my shoulder at all the harsh white faces in the crowd, then at the dark, bent heads, and I knew that wherever Grady was, he must be terrified. I suddenly felt guilty for being frightened just to go to school. I settled back on the carriage seat again and drew a deep breath, determined to be brave.

  We arrived at the Richmond Female Institute, a three-story brick row house with white pillars by the front steps and neat black shutters on the windows. Eli gave my hand a reassuring squeeze as he helped me down from the carriage.