Page 22 of Under the Tulip Tree
Charlotte’s blue eyes were big and filled with curiosity. Her gaze strayed to my injured hand, and the same troubled look I’d seen on Master Hall’s face after Miz Sadie hit me now appeared on Charlotte’s. I found a measure of hope in it.
“You two girls stay put while I get your breakfast.” Aunt Liza gave me a stern look. “Mind your manners,Frances.”
I watched her exit the room with mixed feelings. I didn’t want to be here, and I certainly didn’t want to see Miz Sadie again. Yet excitement at being in Charlotte’s nursery swirled through me too.
The bright space teemed with all manner of interesting toys and pretty things. I’d never seen anything like it, and I couldn’t decide what to play with first.
“Does it hurt?”
Her quiet voice startled me. I turned to find Charlotte staring at me. She pointed to my hand when I didn’t answer right away.
I shrugged, not certain if I should answer honestly or not.
“Mama shouldn’t’ve hit you.” She glanced at the door Aunt Liza had just disappeared through, then took a step closer to me. “I used to have accidents when I was little too.”
Her lowered voice told me this bit of information was something only for me to know. While I appreciated her attemptto make me feel better, I didn’t want her or anyone to think I wet myself all the time.
“I’m a big girl. Aunt Liza wouldn’t let me use the outhouse yesterday.”
Charlotte’s face said she didn’t believe me, but she let it pass. “Do you want to see my dollies?”
I did. I followed her to the table, where she picked up a beautiful doll with a painted-on face. Its dress looked similar to the ones Charlotte and I wore. It even had on snowy-white pantalets like those I’d soiled yesterday. Mammy washed them out, but they hadn’t dried overnight. I wasn’t wearing anything beneath my dress, and I hoped Miz Sadie didn’t look to see if I had them on, otherwise she might beat me again.
“This is Mae. Papa bought her in Atlanta. He said she reminded him of me.” She fussed with Mae’s golden curls before returning the doll to her chair.
She picked up each of the other two dollies and told me their names, but she didn’t offer to let me hold one. My fingers fairly itched to know what Mae’s hair felt like, yet I knew Aunt Liza and Mammy wouldn’t want me to touch anything unless I’d been given permission.
Charlotte moved through the sunny room pointing out painted blocks, carved wooden animals, and a miniature house filled with tiny furniture. She led me into the adjoining room, where she slept in a bed larger than the one I shared with Mammy and my siblings, all draped in yards of white fabric I could see through.
But it was the shelf near the window that captured my attention.
Slaves were not allowed to own books, but I’d heard Mammy and some of the grown folks talk about them. I’d never seen one up close before, so when Charlotte took a book from the shelf, the colorful drawing on the front held me in awe. I couldn’t imagine how such a thing was filled with tales like those the old men sat around spinning.
“May I see it?”
My bold question went against every instruction Aunt Liza had drummed into me the previous day, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to know the feel of that book in my hands and to see those pretty pictures up close.
Without hesitation, Charlotte handed the treasure to me despite my lack of respect for the rules.
I cradled it in my hand as though it were a newly hatched chick. Two little girls graced the outside of it, seated at a table very much like the one in Charlotte’s nursery. A dolly lay on the table while the girls looked at picture books. I tried to open it with my injured fingers, but they wouldn’t cooperate. When I winced with pain, Charlotte reached over and parted it to reveal a boy playing ball with a big red dog.
“Mama taught me to read. Would you like me to read to you?”
With widened eyes, I nodded and handed the book back to her, too filled with wonder to speak.
She chose a different book from the shelf, carried it to the chairs near the fireplace, and settled on one of the prettyupholstered seats. I stood beside her where I could see the pictures. Charlotte began speaking slowly, using her finger to point to the funny marks at the bottom of the pages. Mammy sometimes talked about her desire to learn her letters, but I had no knowledge of such things and couldn’t understand what she meant. Now as I watched Charlotte’s finger move from one group of markings to the next, I realized she was forming words from what she saw on the page.
“‘The Toadstool: “We won’t worry... our... ourselves... with work,” said... Dan... Dandelion. “Let us cl... climb up this great toadstool and have a dan... dance upon the top.”’”
She looked up at me with a big smile. “See the toadstool?”
I nodded, my eyes returning to the drawing of two small children with upside-down flowers for hats playing beneath a huge toadstool. “I ain’t never seen a stool that big.”
Charlotte giggled. “It isn’t big, silly. The children are small. They’re elves.” She closed the book and pointed to a picture of the funny-looking children and a toad sitting atop the stool.
I sat on the floor next to her chair while she read several more pages before Aunt Liza returned with a tray of delicious-smelling food, the likes of which I rarely saw unless it was a special day like Christmas. We left our reading to eat eggs, ham, and warm biscuits dripping with honey. When we finished, Aunt Liza carried away the dishes, and we hurried back to the chair and our book.
Charlotte had just begun to read about a pretty girl with butterfly wings when a loud gasp sounded at the door.
