A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton - Michael R. Phillips [94]
Just then Henry glanced up and saw us down the street. He left Jeremiah and started walking toward us—taking big strides and moving faster than I’d ever seen him. Before Katie’s wagon could turn the next corner, there he was blocking the street.
He walked right out in front of us. Katie had no choice but to rein in and stop. My horses stopped too.
“Hello, Henry,” said Katie as he walked forward.
“Aftah’noon, ladies,” he said, looking us straight in the face, first at Katie, then over at me. “Looks ter me like you been a-workin’ mighty hard.”
“Uh … we’re picking the cotton, Henry,” said Katie.
“Yes’m, I kin see dat, Miz Kathleen. Yo han’s sho be some ruffed up. I’ve neber seen yo hands like dat afore, Miz Kathleen. Effen I din’t know no better, dese ole eyes er mine’d say you’s been a-pickin’ dat cotton yo’sef.”
Katie said nothing.
“Dat right, Miz Kathleen?”
“I’ve been helping some,” she said.
“An’ how be yo mama?”
“Uh … fine.”
Again he glanced from one of us to the other. He turned back and looked Katie in the eye even more intently.
“Is yo sho dere ain’t nuthin’ you gotter tell yo frien’ Henry, Miz Kathleen?” he said.
“No … nothing, Henry,” answered Katie. “Good-bye.”
She didn’t wait for him to get out of the way but flicked the reins again. We bounced forward as he stepped aside and just stood there staring at us. Both of us were afraid to look back. We kept our eyes straight ahead until we’d turned a street and were on our way past Mrs. Hammond’s.
But then she reined in and jumped down. I stopped my wagon behind hers while Katie ran into the store. She came out a minute later holding a small bag and jumped back on the wagon, and we continued on our way.
I doubt two girls, whatever the color of their skin, could have enjoyed a ride as much as Katie and I enjoyed that ride from Greens Crossing back to Rosewood. What a burden had been lifted from our shoulders! Rosewood was Katie’s again! In spite of how tired we were, we were so happy. We had to remind ourselves several times to keep on our toes, especially when we came to the Oakwood junction, in case any men came riding along that we didn’t want to see. But even that reminder couldn’t dampen our spirits.
When we got back, Katie ran inside to tell Emma and Aleta.
“Is dey gwine take yer house, Miz Katie?” Emma asked, still with a worried expression on her face.
“No, Emma! We paid off the loan! It’s still ours … and we have money left over from the cotton!”
She gave both girls a big hug.
“Does dat mean we picked enough, Miz Katie?” asked Emma.
Katie laughed with delight. “Yes, Emma—we picked more than enough!”
“Enough for today,” I added to what Katie had said. “But we’ve got to keep picking. There’s still another loan.”
“But it’s not due for a long time,” said Katie, “and we’re not going to worry about it right now. Today we’re all going to rest and take baths and fix something nice for supper. Look,” she said, showing them the bag from the store, “I got some treats for us all in town!—and we’re going to celebrate. Then maybe in a day or two we’ll start picking the cotton again.”
For the rest of the afternoon and evening, nothing could dampen Katie’s enthusiasm. I’d never seen her so carefree and full of joy, and it was contagious. We all laughed and played together like we never had before.
When bedtime came and we were all bathed and wearing clean clothes, I don’t think any of us wanted the day to end.
We were all sitting together in Katie’s room. Emma was holding William, who was asleep. Aleta was sitting on the bed all snuggled up to Katie. I was in a chair across the room. I had told one story, and Katie had just finished reading us all another story from one of her books.
She closed it and the bedroom got quiet. I yawned and got up to go to the room she called my room that used to be one of her brother’s.
“I don’t want anyone to leave,” said Katie dreamily. “I’m so happy right now, I want you all to stay with me all night.”
Then she seemed to realize what she’d