Page 27 of Under the Tulip Tree
I peeked out to look at him. He appeared genuine in his concern for me, which made my fear seem foolish. Shameful, even. I’d thought the worst of him when the truth was he’d only wanted to help.
Frankie thanked the young man, and he turned and headed back up the street.
“It’s all right, chile.” She smoothed my hair again. “He gone.”
Slowly I came out of her embrace. My heart still pounded.
“Come on inside. We get you some water.”
I followed Frankie up the flower-lined walk. A galvanized watering can sat abandoned, giving evidence of Frankie’s mission before I charged into her day. We went to the kitchen, and she motioned for me to sit at the small table, where aplate of freshly baked cookies sat. My legs felt like jelly, and I gratefully slid onto the seat.
“I made them spice cookies for Pastor Silas over to the church. They’re his favorite. I don’t ’spect he’d mind if you had one, specially after having such a fright.”
I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t eat a bite. It would most likely come right back up, considering how upside-down my insides felt. “No, but thank you.” I did accept the glass of water she held out.
After I took a sip, I closed my eyes, trying to put the incident into perspective. I’d never been so frightened in all my life. What if... if...?
I shuddered.
“Now, now, you don’t have to be afraid no more. Billy’s a good fellow. He watches out for the young’uns and us old folks here in the Acres. He wouldn’ta hurt you.”
She reached to wipe a tear from my cheek. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
“Thank you.” I choked on the words, my tears, my fear.
She gave me a little smile. “Funny thing is, I don’t usually water my flowers till later in the day, but something in my spirit told me to go on out early this morning.”
I offered a trembling smile. “I’m glad you listened.”
She placed her gnarled hand on my arm. “Now, you tell me what brings you down here on a Saturday without that handsome fella drivin’ you.”
I suddenly felt like a fool for coming. “I... I just wanted to continue our interview.”
Her dark eyes studied me a long moment before she nodded. “Let’s go in yonder to the sittin’ room. Jael’s running some errands this morning, but she ought to be back before lunch.”
We took our usual seats. As I pulled my notebook from my bag, I inhaled a calming breath. I was safe in Frankie’s home, and I’d learned a valuable lesson.
Not everything was as it seemed here in the Acres.
With one last shudder, I looked up to find Frankie studying me.
“You know that fear you had a little while ago when you thought that fellow was chasin’ you? All raw and consumin’?”
I nodded.
“That’s how I felt when them patrollers was huntin’ me and Moss. Fear like nothin’ I’d ever felt before, not even when Miz Sadie sold me away from Mammy. That kind of fear is like a livin’, breathin’ thing inside you. And sometimes, it don’t never go away.”
I knew exactly what she meant.
The sound of moaning woke me up.
When it came again, I was surprised to find it originated in my own throat. My eyelids felt heavy and didn’t want to budge, but I managed to open narrow slits and found myself flat on my stomach, looking at the dirt floor of the cabin I shared with six other slaves.
Confusion swirled through my mind, which, like myeyelids, felt heavy. Had I fallen out of bed? I closed my eyes, trying to remember, but nothing surfaced. I had a sense something was terribly wrong, yet my head couldn’t conjure up a reason for this feeling of foreboding.
Maybe I was dreaming. Moss once told me I talked in my sleep. Maybe I walked in my sleep too and had taken a tumble.
The nightmare became real, however, when I tried to rise.
