Page 58 of Because I Could Not Stop for Death

I was beginning to wonder if coming to Washington had been a waste of time for me. It certainly was for Margaret back in Amherst who was cleaning the entire Dickinson home, top to bottom, all by herself. I did hope that she took at least one evening to put her feet up and enjoy sitting in the parlor with a roaring fire with only Carlo and Miss Lavinia’s many cats to keep her company. That’s what I would have been doing, if only for an hour or two.

Emily stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “He’s here,” she hissed.

“Who’s here?” Miss Lavinia asked.

I wondered the same thing as I looked around the street to see if some crazy man was waiting to pounce on us from the shadows.

“Mr.Johnson,” she said. “He’s there at the dock. He’s going to be on the same boat that we are.”

Miss Lavinia shielded her eyes, looking in the direction that her sister pointed. “Looks to me like he’s headed in the direction of the inn, not away from it. It is half past four. I’m sure that Mother is wondering what is taking us so long to return to the hotel.”

“Should we go back to the inn and drink more tea?” Emily said.

Miss Lavinia cocked her head. “I think that would be very difficult for Miss Abigail to take. She was practically shooing us out the door when we left. She didn’t even try to hide her relief. Not to mention how late it is.”

The sisters stood in the middle of the sidewalk debating what to do. They were so engrossed in their conversation they didn’t see that Mr.Johnson was marching right toward us with the most unpleasant scowl on his face. I thought Mr.Dickinson had an impressive scowl, but it was nothing close to Mr.Johnson’s. There should be his daguerreotype in the dictionary next to the word “scowl” for the perfect example.

“Ladies,” I said softly, trying to get the sisters’ attention. They continued debating what to do next. “Ladies?” I asked a little more urgently this time.

At this point Mr.Johnson was only fifty feet from us.

“Emily!” I cried.

Emily jumped. “Willa Noble, what on earth?”

“Mr.Johnson is right there,” I said in a hoarse whisper.

Emily and Miss Lavinia spun around. Emily recovered first. “Mr.Johnson, what a surprise to see you this far south.”

The stable owner appeared to be lost in his thoughts; dark ones were my guess from his expression. “Hello? Do I know you?”

“I don't know if we have ever formally met, but I’m Miss Emily Dickinson and this is my sister, Lavinia; we are Edward Dickinson’s daughters. As you must know, our father is serving out his term as a representative from the great Commonwealth of Massachusetts. We are in Washington visiting him and just had a lovely visit to Mount Vernon. Is that where you are headed now?” Emily finished.

I had to admit I was impressed that she was able to say all of that as if she were just having a normal chat with a neighbor and not with a man she thought could be a killer. I knew it was something that I wouldn’t be able to do. Just looking at Mr.Johnson made my stomach twist into a horrible knot. Could this be the man who killed my only brother? Did he take Henry’s life? For what exactly? And was he really working with a slave catcher to return runaways to the South? All of these thoughts ran together in my mind, and I felt my face harden.

Mr.Johnson looked in my direction, and for a split second, his angry mask slipped in surprise as if he was taken aback by how much fury and something very close to hate was flowing from me.

His scowl was firmly back in place when he answered Emily’s question. “I have not been to Mount Vernon. I’m in Washington on business.”

“Oh, what kind of business?” Emily asked.

Miss Lavinia standing next to her groaned just loudly enough for me to hear.

“I do not know why it’s your concern, miss.” He made a move like he wanted to step around Emily.

Emily pretended she didn’t see it. “I just know that my father will ask when we mention seeing you this close to Mount Vernon. If you have business in Washington, it’s odd that you would be this far down the river away from it. Is your business more closely related to Virginia? Perhaps having something to do with the Southern states?”

I winced. Emily might as well ask him if he was working with slaveholders. At least that is how it sounded to my ears. I hoped that I was wrong, and Mr.Johnson wouldn’t see it that way.

However, Miss Lavinia must have had the same thoughts as I did, because she said, “It was nice seeing you, Mr.Johnson, but we must go to catch the next boat up the river. Our family is expecting us back within the hour.”

He looked from Emily to her sister. “It is not my intent to keep you. Good day, ladies.” This time, he stepped out into the street to get around Emily should she jump into his path again.

“My father’s aide sent you an invitation for his dinner party on Friday. We very much want you to be there. There will be several men from Amherst in attendance,” Emily called after him.

He turned and looked back to her. “Please give your father my apologies, but I have much more important work that needs to be done than sitting at a dining table with people I neither know nor like.”

Miss Lavinia gave a quick intake of breath, and I have to admit, I was a little shocked, too, by the sharpness of his words.

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