Page 51 of Under the Tulip Tree
I shook my head, my cheek rubbing against the rough fabric of his coat. “That ain’t true,” I said, yet wishing with all my heart it was. I pushed out from his embrace to look him in the face. “If God loves me, why’d he make me a slave? Why’d I get sold away from my mammy? I seen terrible things done to folks, Sam. Folks like you and me. If your God loves us, why does he allow all this misery?” I waved my hand to encompass the contraband and soldier camps in the distance.
I shook my head again. “You’re a fool to trust him, if he’s there at all.”
“The apostle Paul said, ‘We are fools for Christ’s sake.’” A content smile lifted his lips. “I guess I’m in good company.” He looked down at the small book still in his hands, then up at me. “Please take this, Frankie. Don’t none of us know what tomorrow holds. It’d give me a measure of peace in my heart to know you have it should something happen to me.”
My body and emotions were spent. I didn’t have the strength to argue with Sam anymore. I sure didn’t want to think about something bad happening to him and the regret I’d feel if I didn’t do this one thing for him. I accepted the book. Neither of us said anything more as we returned to camp.
When I reached my tent, I was grateful to find myself alone. I couldn’t have tolerated Nell’s chatter right now. Without looking at it or turning even one page, I shoved the book under my cot and tossed a soiled apron on top of it.
I appreciated Sam’s kindness, his words of comfort, but I didn’t want his book.
It could stay under that cot until the end of the war, for all I cared.
Alden volunteered to drive to the drugstore near the capitol building and pick up some chicken salad sandwiches from the lunch counter. Jael arrived home in time to join us, and the four of us talked and laughed and enjoyed sharing another meal around Frankie’s tiny table.
“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but did you ever learn to read?” Alden said as he stood to help Jael clear away the dishes. She stacked them on the counter and they both returned to the table.
Frankie leaned back in her chair. “Reading was forbidden for a slave. It’s hard to imagine these days, what with schools and colleges teaching our young folks to read and write and do sums.” She smiled at Jael. “I’m right proud of all the progress we’ve accomplished since the war ended.”
I opened the notebook I’d left nearby and jotted down her words. Had she forgotten Alden’s question? I was about to repeat it when she continued.
“I realize now Iwasafraid.” She rubbed her deformed fingers in an unconscious manner. “A book had cost me dearly. As irrational as it might seem now, I feared Sam’s book would bring all kinds of trouble if I learned to read the words on them pages.”
Jael reached over and put her hand on top of Frankie’s.
“Illa Crandle was a stubborn woman. About as stubborn as me.” We all smiled at that. “Sam must’ve told her about the book, because one day she came up to me and said, ‘Frankie, I’m gonna teach you to read whether you like it or not.’ Well, you can imagine I had all kinds of things to say about that, but sure enough, she began showing up while I had my hands full of hot, soapy laundry. I couldn’t run away and had to listen to her talk about letters and the sounds they make. She’d spellkettleandsoapandwater, telling me what letters they had in them and drawing them in the dirt.”
Frankie closed her eyes. “I can see that woman even now, with her hands on her hips and that big ol’ black bonnet keeping the sun out of her eyes. Before long, I had an itch for learning. Nell brought home one of Illa’s books, the same books I’d seen when I was recovering from Hank’s beating. She was just learning, so her reading wasn’t too good, but she’d recite her letters and such until I’d tell her to hush. I’m certain Illa put her up to it.”
“Illa sounds like a woman after my own heart,” Alden said with a laugh.
Frankie pursed her lips. “She knew she had me the day I corrected her when she misspelled a word. ’Course, I didn’t realize at the time she’d misspelled it on purpose.”
I chuckled. Illa did sound like an interesting lady.
“I couldn’t attend the school since I had a job, so Illa began tutoring me after supper. Before long, I was reading. I read all the books on her shelf. When the officers heard I’d learned to read, some of them offered to let me borrow books they had with them.”
A frown creased her face. “Sam was the only one who didn’t celebrate my book learning. He’d kept his distance since Christmas, and I couldn’t blame him. When I’d see him around camp or near the laundry area, he was as polite as always, but he’d stopped talking about our future together. I tried to convince myself it didn’t matter, but inside, I felt as though I’d lost somethin’ special.”
Sam and Frankie’s story reminded me of Grandma Lorena and Grandpa Jim’s. Like Sam, Grandpa had loved people forwho they were, but both Frankie and Grandma had lessons to learn before love could grow.
I stole a peek at Alden, warmth filling my cheeks as I wondered if there were lessons I could learn from him.
“One day I was in my tent alone. It was Sunday, and Nell and the others were at the service Illa and her helpers conducted. I was poking around beneath my cot, looking for something I’d dropped, when my fingers found the book Sam had given me. My breath caught when I pulled it out. I don’t suppose I’d truly forgotten about it, but finding it that day was like finding a great prize.”
Frankie lifted her hand to her face, and I realized a tear had slipped down her cheek.
“I sat on my cot with that book in my lap.BookofPsalms, it said in gold letters right across the front. I carefully opened it, marveling that I held my very own book in my hands. A book no one could take from me. I began reading and reading and reading. When I came to the Twenty-third Psalm, I couldn’t get past it. I read those lines over and over, and every time it was like sunshine pouring into a dark place.”
She looked at each of us, smiling with glistening eyes. “I understood then. I understood what Mammy tried to teach me about God and his goodness in spite of us being slaves. I understood that the masters who beat me and sold me weren’t anything like God the Father. They was sinners, just like me. I understood that bad things are gonna happen in this world and that we’ll all walk through the valley of the shadow of death. But I needn’t live in fear anymore. Thethings I endured in my pitiful life as a slave didn’t mean God isn’t good or that he don’t love us.”
We sat in silence for several long moments, the impact of her words resonating within me. I’d blamed God for the stock market crash and the changes it forced upon me. I’d blamed him for my parents’ failures and even for Mary’s pitiable marriage. Yet was it fair to foist guilt upon God for every bad thing that happened? Didn’t the decisions of individuals play a role in the outcomes?
“When I saw Sam the next day, he knew something was different. We talked a long time. ‘You’ve made peace with God,’ he said, and I guess I had. We settled into an easy friendship and spent most of our free time together, reading and talking. I had my job and nearly bawled the first time I held my own gold coins. Life in camp wasn’t always pleasant, but I ’spect I was happier than I’d been in a long time. Days passed, then weeks and months. Before I knew it, I’d been in that camp two and a half years.”
She paused and looked out the window. The sky had grown dark with clouds.
“I’ll never forget the day a rider came tearing into the soldier camp. It was November of 1864. I was putting away laundry in the commanding officer’s quarters when this young fellow barreled in, his face drained of color. I can hear his words to the general even now. ‘Sir,’ he said, all out of breath. ‘The Army of Tennessee is on the move, and they’re headed for Nashville.’”
