CLEARING OFF A BILL
20

9781441208477_0121_001

IN SPITE OF THE SUDDEN CHANGE IN OUR LIVES because of Aleta’s coming, the seven gold coins had got right into Katie’s brain. Once I’d convinced her that it would be all right to use it, she didn’t waste any time trying to figure out what to do with the money. It must have been working on her all night the way things do even when you’re asleep, because by morning she was ready to act like the mistress of a plantation with financial problems and do what she could about them.

Almost the minute Aleta was out of earshot, and not yet hearing anything from Emma, she spoke up about it.

“We’ve got to go back into town again, Mayme,” she announced.

“What for?” I asked.

“I want to pay off the bill at Mrs. Hammond’s store so she doesn’t come calling or visiting or pestering us about the money we owe her. And we could use some things too—like flour and sugar. And we’re almost out of bacon and bacon grease too.”

“But if we bought bacon, she’d be liable to be suspicious, wondering why you didn’t just have your own from butchering one of your hogs.”

“I see what you mean. But the main thing is I don’t want her fussing about the bill. She used to pester Mama something fierce, and I’d rather she wasn’t asking too many questions. And I want to pay off some of Mama’s loan at the bank too.”

“You don’t think Mrs. Hammond will ask questions about where the money came from?”

“She probably will,” said Katie. “But that would be better than having her snooping around here. I hope getting her money will outweigh her curiosity.”

“I see what you mean,” I said, “but how can we go into town again now that Aleta’s here? She would never stay with me for you to go alone—”

“I can’t go alone, Mayme,” interrupted Katie. “I’m not brave enough for that yet.”

“Then I don’t see what’s to be done with Aleta.”

“Couldn’t we take her with us?”

“Do you think she’d stand for it, going all that way sitting beside me? And what about when we got to town and people saw her? That would make Mrs. Hammond all the more curious!”

“But maybe somebody would see her that knows her,” said Katie, “and then we could find out who her father is and she would be able to go home.”

“Maybe,” I said, thinking about what Katie said. “But then what would they think about us? How would we explain ourselves? And Aleta would be bound to tell them there were no grown-ups at Rosewood.”

“But we can’t just keep her here forever. What about her father?”

“I don’t know. I’m just concerned about your safety, Miss Katie.”

Katie took in what I’d said and mulled it over in her mind for a while. A few minutes later Emma came in holding William, and that put an end to our conversation.

But it didn’t put an end to Katie’s determination to go into town and spend at least one of those gold coins. As soon as she’d poured Emma some milk and had her seated at the table eating some bread, she brought it up again.

“Emma,” she said, “I’ve got to do something and I need for you to be real brave for me if you can.”

“What dat, Miz Katie?” said Emma, getting a worried look on her face.

“Mayme and I need to go back into town again, and—” “You’s not gwine make me stay down in dat cellar agin, are you, Miz Katie?” she said, getting a scared look on her face.

“I have another idea, Emma. This time you and William can stay down in one of the cabins where our slaves used to live. How would that be?”

“Dat be right fine by me, Miz Katie,” said Emma in relief.

“You’ll be out of sight there, and if anyone should come, I’ll show you a place to hide, just like before.”

“Not in no cellar?”

“No, Emma, just out of the way. But nobody will come and you’ll be safe. We’ll be home before you know we’re gone.”

“What about dat young’un—dat ornery white girl dat don’t like me an’ Miz Mayme none? You ain’t gwine make me take care er her, is you, Miz Katie?”

“No, Emma—we’ll take her with us.”

And so it was that the following morning, Katie and Aleta and I climbed up onto the seat of the small buckboard, Katie in the middle and me and Aleta on each side of her, and headed into Greens Crossing behind a single horse, with Emma safely out of sight in Rosewood’s colored town.

All the way into town Katie and I talked just like we always did, though I could tell Katie was making a special effort to show Aleta that there was nothing so unusual in a black girl and white girl being friends. Every once in a while she’d turn to Aleta and talk to her for a while, but Aleta remained mostly quiet and reserved.

“Now, you remember what I asked you before,” said Katie as we began to get close to town, “whether you knew anybody in Greens Crossing, or whether they would know your papa?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Aleta.

“Somebody there might know your papa. Do you want us to ask the lady at the store? If you’ll tell me your daddy’s name, I will ask if she—”

“I don’t want to go back to my papa,” said Aleta firmly. “I’m afraid of him. I’m not going to tell you his name.”

We jostled along a little while longer.

“All right, Aleta,” said Katie, “if that’s how you feel, I won’t ask about him. But then you’ll have to hide out of sight under those blankets we brought back there. Can you do that?”

“Why do I have to hide?” asked Aleta.

“Because,” Katie began. She hesitated and glanced at me. “Because we don’t want people asking us questions about you,” she said after a second. “If you don’t want to go back to your papa, it’s best no one sees you. When people see girls like us all alone without any grown-ups with them, they get curious and wonder why. So we don’t want them wondering about you. So can you hide in the back of the wagon and not make a peep?”

Aleta nodded.

Katie pulled the buckboard to a stop. “All right, then,” she said. “We’re almost to town. So you get back there and lie down, and I’ll cover you up.”

Aleta and Katie stepped down and Katie arranged her in the back of the wagon out of sight.

“You just stay there until I tell you to come out,” said Katie. “We have to go into a store in town, so you might not hear anything for a while. After that we’ll make one more stop. You just lie still and don’t make a sound.”

Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of the general store. I tried to put on my slave face as I got down from the wagon. Then we went inside.

“Hello, Mrs. Hammond,” said Katie as we walked in, trying to sound confident and grown up. “My mama sent me into town to pay off our bill … I mean, to pay her bill.”

Mrs. Hammond glanced up from behind the counter, looked toward me with an unpleasant expression, then at Katie.

“What is she doing in here with you?” she said.

“How much is the bill please, ma’am?” asked Katie, ignoring the question.

“It’s something over three dollars, Kathleen.”

“Good, then this will be enough,” said Katie. “Here, Mrs. Hammond,” she added, handing her one of the fivedollar coins.

“Gracious, child,” she said, “in front of the colored girl! What does your mother teach you!”

“I thought you’d be pleased to have your bill paid, ma’am.”

“Well, yes … of course … yes, I am. But … where on earth did your mama get this!” she said as it began to dawn on her that Katie had just handed her five dollars of pure gold.

“I don’t know, ma’am. We want to buy a few more things, if you don’t mind.”

“Why … yes, I will just check your mother’s account.”

“Here is a list of what we would like,” said Katie, handing her a small piece of paper.

Still flustered, Mrs. Hammond took it while we walked around the store trying to keep from looking at each other.

“Kathleen,” said Mrs. Hammond after a few minutes, “I’ve put the things on your list on the counter.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I notice this is not your mother’s handwriting,” she said, and I could feel that suspicious tone coming back into her voice.

“No, ma’am,” said Katie. “It’s mine.”

“Ah … I see. Yes, well, Kathleen … in checking your mother’s account, and with today’s order, I find that she has one dollar and thirty-seven cents left over. Shall I just keep it and apply it as credit to her account?”

“No, ma’am,” replied Katie. “I will take it home if you don’t mind.”

Disappointed, Mrs. Hammond fished about in her cash drawer, then handed Katie the money, in small silver coins this time.

“Put that in your pocket, Kathleen,” she said quietly. “Don’t let that girl see it. It’s not good for them to know about money. It puts ideas in their heads.”

“Yes, ma’am.—Mayme,” she said to me, “get those things on the counter and take them to the wagon.”

“Oh … and, Kathleen,” said Mrs. Hammond as Katie started to follow me out, “here is the mail that has come.”

She stooped down behind the counter, then handed it to Katie across the counter. I slowed my step because I was curious and wanted to hear whatever else she might say.

“Some of it looks important, Kathleen,” said Mrs. Hammond. “You be sure your mama gets it. I don’t want somebody blaming me if you lose it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I continued on with the sugar and flour and a few smaller things, and Katie followed me out the door.

We walked back to the buckboard, climbed up, and Katie took the reins, still holding the letters, and swatted the horse with them and we bounced away, knowing all the time that Mrs. Hammond’s eyes were glued to our backs through the window of her store.

Don’t move under those blankets, Aleta! I was thinking to myself.

A few minutes later, Katie pulled up and stopped in front of the bank.

“Why don’t I just wait here, Miss Katie?” I said. “I don’t think they’d like the idea of a colored girl going in there.”

“I don’t care what they think,” she said.

“I know, but we don’t want to raise too many questions.”

“All right, Mayme,” said Katie.

She walked inside, looked around a second, then walked over to where Mr. Taylor, the manager of the bank, was sitting at his desk.

“Hello, Kathleen,” he said as she walked up. “Doing errands for your mother again?”

“Uh … yes, sir. I have a payment to make on her loan.”

She stuffed her hand into the pocket of her dress, deposited the letters, and in their place pulled out five gold coins and set them on the banker’s desk.

“Where did you get these!” he exclaimed, reaching out and taking the coins in his hand.

“From my uncle, sir,” replied Katie. “He found gold in California and gave it to my mother for safekeeping. She didn’t want to use the gold before this, since it wasn’t hers.

But now she finds she must.”

“Ah, yes … yes, of course.”

“Will this pay off my mama’s loan, Mr. Taylor?”

“I’m afraid not, Kathleen,” he said, still clutching the coins. “But it will make a nice dent in it. I shall apply it to the loan immediately.”

Before Katie had a chance to think about whether it was a good idea to let him keep all the money or not, the banker opened a drawer, put the coins inside, then pulled out another drawer and removed a sheaf of papers and made a few notes on it.

Katie was glad she’d kept the last coin in her pocket or he might now have that too!

A few seconds later, he glanced up. “I’ve made the entry,” he said. “This will be a good start on the loan. Is there anything else, Kathleen?”

“Yes, sir. Would it be possible to get small money for this one?”

She pulled out the last ten-dollar gold piece and set it on the desk.

“There’s more?” said the banker.

“Just this one.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to apply it to the loan as well?”

“Yes, sir. We … my mama needs some coins for smaller bills.”

“I see … right, well, I see nothing wrong with that.”

Holding the coin, he rose and walked across the floor to the cashier’s window. When he returned a minute or two later, he was holding a number of smaller coins in his hand.

“Here you are, Kathleen—ten dollars in coin. Tell your mother thank you for the payment. And tell her that we still need to discuss arrangements for the balance. It is really most urgent that she clear up what now remains on the first loan. Time is getting very short.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Taylor.”

Katie turned to go, but then paused and turned back toward him.

“How much is the loan, Mr. Taylor?” she asked.

“Both loans together originally totaled five hundred twenty-five dollars,” he answered. “After today’s payment there is a little over a hundred fifty dollars left on the first, which is the more immediately pressing. But your mother knows that.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Taylor.”

Katie walked out of the bank, her pocket jangling full of ten dollars’ worth of smaller coins. I could tell from her face that she felt like the richest lady in the world.

Again she climbed up, and it was all we could do to keep from talking or smiling at each other before we got far enough away where no one could see us.

When we were about a half mile out of town, Katie reined the horse to a stop.

“You can come out now, Aleta,” she said. “We’re out of sight of town now. You did well.”

“That was fun!” said Aleta, and she jumped up beside Katie. It was the first time either of us had seen her smile.

A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton
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