Vivid

  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?"

  "Get lost."

  Vivid could feel embarrassment burn her brown cheeks. "Not usually."

  "Well, stop it," he told her grimly. "Chasing you across the countryside is making me an old man."

  "I'm sorry," Vivid replied, trying not to grin.

  "No, you're not," he countered as he led the way out of the cove.

  Magic came running out to meet them as they emerged from the trees. “Did you get lost, Dr. Lancaster?" she asked, slipping her hand into her father's.

  "Yes, I did, Magic, and your father found me."

  "Good, because everybody's waiting on you so we can eat ice cream. Are you really going to marry Dr. Lancaster, Pa?"

  Vivid didn't dare look at Nate, who'd stopped to stare at his daughter as if she had grown two heads. “Where did you hear that?'' he asked.

  "Becky Carpenter."

  "Ah, Becky Carpenter," Nate echoed.

  "Who's Becky Carpenter?" Vivid asked.

  "A school friend of Majestic's and probably the next editor of the Grayson Gazette. Magic, Dr. Lancaster and I are not getting married."

  "Why not, Pa? Don't you think she's pretty?"

  Vivid couldn't resist adding fuel to the fire, and so asked, "Well?"

  "Stay out of this," he warned.

  Vivid grinned.

  "There's more to being married than having a pretty wife, Majestic. Now let me see how fast you can run back down the hill to the church."

  "I'll be there before you count to ten, Pa."

  "Go!" he yelled, grinning, and Magic took off at a run.

  "You're pretty good," Vivid mused aloud.

  "At what?"

  "Distracting your daughter," Vivid said, even as her gaze grazed his mouth. She looked back up to his eyes and found the impassive distance had returned.

  He said flatly, "You and I need to talk later."

  She felt deflated. She nodded. "Fine."

  They walked back down the hill in silence.

  When Vivid and Nate rejoined the gathering they were met with a round of applause. Embarrassed, Vivid dropped her eyes to her shoes in response and smiled as Nate said, "I found her over in the trees about three hundred yards away." Then he looked at Vivid and stated with mock seriousness, "I don't know folks, do we really want a doctor who can get lost within earshot of so many of her neighbors?''

  A lot of people raised their voices in support while others gave the doctor a good old-fashioned ribbing. In the end they decided she should stay.

  Vivid humbly curtsied, saying, "I apologize for getting lost, and if I haven't said so already, I want to thank you all for today." Her voice became more serious as she looked out over their kind faces. "I realize some of you are very skeptical about my abilities, and that's to be expected; I'm young, I'm a stranger, and I am a woman, but I promise you I'm going to be the best doctor I can be, so—where's this ice cream?"

  Her short speech was met with cheers. As the crowd lined up at the ice cream churns, Vivid placed a hand on Nate's arm to stay him a moment.

  "I want to thank you," she said earnestly. "For what?"

  “For finding me, of course. And for saying these people were my neighbors. People will be more accepting if they believe you already are."

  "Don't read more into it than there is. I'm remaining neutral. But, you're welcome."

  As he walked away, Vivid sighed.

  At the table set up by the Women's Club, Vivid got a dish of ice cream and a wooden spoon. Eating and walking, she smiled at the people she passed, then stopped at
the sound of voices arguing at a table nearby. She couldn't see the principals because of the small crowd ringing the space, but the female voice belonged to Abigail Grayson, and the booming male counterpoint sounded familiar.

  Vivid excused herself politely as she maneuvered through the people standing around the table. When she reached the front, she smiled. Sure enough, the male voice belonged to Adam Crowley. His black eyes brushed hers and he smiled. "Ah, finally a female with the brain of a man. Dr. Lancaster, tell this 'historian' that Benjamin Rush is no friend to the race."

  Vivid looked from Adam Crowley's smiling eyes to Abigail's flashing ones and said, "Mr. Crowley, before we discuss Benjamin Rush, I'd like to address another point first, if I may?''

  He nodded.

  She leaned in close and fairly shouted, "A female with the brain of a man? Mr. Crowley, you should be ashamed of yourself."

  He chuckled. "Ah, little girl, what a wife you'd make. If I were twenty years younger, I'd court you whether you wanted me to or not."

  Then he shouted for Nate, who stood a few feet away talking to a group of farmers, to join them. Nate strolled over, looking first at Vivid, then at Crowley. "What's wrong, Adam?" he asked.

  "Marry her, Nate, or I swear I'll truss her up and give her to one of my boys."

  Vivid stared. "Mr. Crowley!"

  "Look at her, son. She's beautiful, smart, and has a spine. A man can't ask for more than that."

  Vivid could not resist the playfulness in the big man's manner. She smiled in spite of herself, then said again, "I am not here to be trussed up and given to anyone, Mr. Crowley."

  Vivid wouldn't even look at Nate, so she had no idea how he was taking this whole conversation.

  Abigail came to the rescue. "We were discussing Benjamin Rush, Adam, not whether my nephew should marry Dr. Lancaster, though I, too, think that would be a marvelous idea."

  "Abigail!" Nate and Vivid shouted in unison.

  Abigail ignored the outbursts, saying, "I don't often agree with this foolish old man, but, Nathaniel, I think she would make you a perfect wife. And Viveca, you could do a whole lot worse. Now tell us your opinion of Benjamin Rush."