Proud, she pulled herself up and shook her headno. “I got tired of having to wait on my neighbors, so after school the first night, I went out and bought myself a speller at the five-and-dime. I wanted to read Rachel’s letter with my own eyes and write back with my own hands. Don’t need no help, ma’am. I can read and write plenty good myself. And I’m getting better each day!”
“Miss Irene, I’m mighty pleased for you.”
“I stayed up till midnight every night, sometimes not stopping until dawn! Here, sit with me, Book Woman. I’ll show ya.” Theold woman folded herself into a chair and yanked one out for me. She slowly read me her daughter’s latest letter. Then Irene pulled out stationery and a pen from her pocketbook, along with a smallCommon School Speller First Book. She lowered her head to the page and wrote her first letter back to her daughter while I hovered near and helped with the spelling, praising her work, nudging her on.
When she was through, she handed it to me to inspect, then dug in her pocketbook and pulled out another piece of stationery.
I read her letter and was surprised to see her wobbly penmanship and simple grammar had spelled every word correctly. She’d crossed everytand dotted eachi.
“My first letter is to Rachel, but my second letter is athank-youto—” She pointed the tip of her pen at me.
Grateful, I read it. And I saw the pride shining in Irene’s eyes.
Ardell and Kip walked past me, clutching their canes. He held her arm as they took careful steps. “Miss Ardell,” he said and cleared his throat once and then again, “my vehicle’s just outside. Uh, wondered if maybe you would like to join me for, uh, for coffee at Shirley’s Diner?”
“Why, Mr. Kipple Culbreath, maybe you’d like to joinme. I have an old bottle of scotch at home waiting. Something special I’ve been saving.”
I glimpsed Kip’s surprise and the twinkle in Ardell’s mischievous eyes.
Lizbeth gathered her notes, and two patrons immediately flanked her side. I caught one of the men’s words as they passed by me. “We’re going to walk you and the children home tonight, Miss Lizbeth. Have ourselves a good talkin’ to with that cowardly husband of yours. And we’re gonna be letting him know that if we have to come back, it won’t be for another talk.”
Walking between the men, Lizbeth stopped and took her babies from the children’s librarian, then held her head high asshe passed through the library doors, something bold and courageous awakening in the young woman.
***
After most of the patrons left, I helped straighten chairs and wipe down tables, then waited for Mrs. Claxton over by a bookshelf.
I studied some of the titles. There were a lot of books written by Negroes, and I couldn’t get over how large the collection was. I pulled outRosemary and Pansies, by the Kentucky poet Effie Waller Smith. Honey had the same copy, and I pressed a hand over the ribbed green cloth on the cover, admiring the gold-stamped title and floral decorations.
I read through the verses and stopped at the last poem, “Good Night,” overcome with grief for home.
Dear earth, I am going away to-night
From your long-loved hills and your meadows bright;
I know I should miss you when I am dead
If a better world came not in your stead.
For the sweet, long days in your woodlands spent,
And your starry dusks, I shall not lament;
For greater than all the wonders you show,
O earth, is the secret I soon shall know…
Steven slipped up beside me. He had his sister at his side, sucking on a taffy stick.
“Hello, Steven. Did you forget something?” I smiled at his sister missing one of her milk teeth, still in awe that the young’uns in the city were only a little bit curious of my color. Not bothered at all.
Once, on the library route back home, my face had spooked a young child picking berries. “Don’t look at her,” his motherhad warned, then shielded the young’un, pulling him off the path. But not before I’d seen the wild-eyed fright on the child’s face that would cast me as the blame for his coming nightmares.
Steven’s smile was infectious. “No, ma’am, I just wanted to let you know that after our lessons, I applied to Belknap Hardware and Manufacturing this morning. I start work in a week. And if I can write and read, work on them lessons you gave me, the boss man said I could earn an extra five cents on the hour. A whopping five cents.”
Mrs. Claxton came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Did I hear something about a job?”
He grinned and bobbed his head. “I was just telling Miss Cussy I start in a week at Belknap.”
