Page 70 of The Wondrous Life and Loves of Nella Carter
“In truth”—Adam leaned in conspiratorially, biting his lip until he had all our undivided attention—“I’m a spy.”
“A spy?” Willa’s hands flew to her mouth.
Adam nodded seriously. “Yep. I’m observing the way they do business so my mother and I can start our own shop—for the race.”
“‘For the race’? What are you talking about?” Nathan frowned, eyeing Adam up and down impatiently. But there was no threat.
Adam laughed again. “Don’t tell me I’ve fooled you too.” He pointed to his hair, much curlier without the pomade. “I look white, but I’m as colored as can be.”
Out of his shopkeeper’s uniform, with his wavy hair loose, I could see it. It was remarkable, his ability to shift. Now, standing amid a group of Negroes, he was one of us.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Willa asked, eyes wide.
“I didn’t make the rules.” Adam laughed. “I just play by them. They had an opening. They’re one of the finest shops in the city. I thought I’d apply. The ad didn’t say ‘No colored,’ just implied.” He seemed to brush it off. “It’s their fault, if you ask me.”
“Are you worried they’ll know?”
“Shoot, no. These people only see what they believe. Walk with the confidence of a white man, and you can be one. They don’t pay enough attention.”
“What will they do if they find out?” The fear of violence flashed in my mind.
“Seems like tomorrow’s problem. Besides, I can do what’s needed. All I told them was that my grandfather was a tailor, and he was. That part was true, andhewas white. What Ididn’tmention was that he was with my grandmother, who was Black. Ma and I made our way here from New Orleans after Dad died, making a name for ourselves.”
“Nouvelle-Orléans.” The old name of the city slipped out. It’d been so long since I’d thought of that place, still wondering what it might look like now. “So, you’re passing?” I’d done my fair share over the lifetimes, allowing people to believe I was whatever sort of exotic bird they fancied—Sicilian, Algerian, Moorish, a traveler, and the like. I didn’t correct their assumptions, the cloak of ignorance keeping me temporarily safe.
“Don’t laugh. They call me ‘the Greek.’ Can you believe it?” He ran a hand through his short curls. Now that he said it, I could see it,remembering the time I took a boat through the Mediterranean Sea to Mykonos.
“Did you say it first? Pretending to be Greek?”
He flashed us a smug grin. “Nope, my old pal Don did, and Don’s quite dense. He would rather believe me to be a descendant of Zeus than of the Negro race. No matter, I’m doing whatever it takes to achieve my goal. You’re in the presence of one of the finest tailors in New York—and if not overstating things, maybe these United States—who just so happens to be colored.”
“Are you really that good?” I asked, intrigued.
“The best. I’ll show you sometime.” He tipped his head, a twinkle in his eyes, before blending back into the post-party crowd. “See you soon, Tessa Thorpe!”
“What an odd man!” Willa exclaimed as we continued our way.
“That’s a dangerous business he’s playing at.” Nathan shot me a warning look. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to mingle with the likes of him.”
“Don’t worry, I know,” I replied.
And I did. In that simple conversation, I’d found my next topic, and it felt like coming back to life. I knew what extraordinary thing Death could be interested in.
And Adam, if he was as good as he said, could be the key.
Twenty-Four
The opportunity to create something for Death came a few days later.
I hurried to answer the door. Adam stood there, carrying a big box. “Top of the morning,” he said in greeting.
“Adam! I wasn’t expecting you until next week.” I’d returned to his store the day after we met on the street and told him my plan.
“You inspired me. I was up all night. I couldn’t sleep.” He hefted the box inside and lifted the top with his free hand. Ivory silk billowed from within.
“It’s gorgeous! I—I mean, why’d you bring it here?”
“I can’t finish it without your final fitting.”
