A Day To Pick Your Own Cotton Part 4

He paused, turned, and looked back. "Why, Mr. Krebs, the glazier-your mama knows that," he said.

"Uh, yes ... could you wait just a minute please?"

Katie ran back inside. Mr. Davenport likely thought he heard voices talking from the open upstairs window. A minute later Katie returned.

"Could you please tell Mr. Krebs that my mama would like him to come out and fix these four windows that got broken?"

"All right ... yes, all right, Miss Clairborne-I'll talk to him. But-"

"Thank you, Mr. Davenport," said Katie, then turned, went back inside, and closed the door.

By then I was nearly laughing to split my sides. Katie was some actress!

I had been peeking out of one of the windows from behind a curtain. I watched as the man just stood there a few seconds watching Katie come back inside, then kinda shook his head with a puzzled expression, and finally went back to his wagon, got up, shouted to his horses, then rattled off toward the Thurston place.

As soon as he was gone, I came running down the stairs laughing.

"You did it, Miss Katie," I said. "You really made him believe your mama was right up there all the time!"

A sheepish smile crept over her face. Then she started laughing too.

We talked for a minute, then suddenly a startled look came over Katie's face.

"Oh, oh-I forgot about Emma!" she exclaimed.

I'd forgotten too. "Where is she?" I said.

But already Katie had turned and was running into the parlor. She threw up the carpet and opened the trapdoor in the floor leading down into the cellar. The instant she did, the sound of a baby crying came up from the blackness below.

"You can come up now, Emma," said Katie, taking two or three steps down the ladder. "Here, hand William up to me."

"Miz Katie," I heard Emma calling from below, "it was so dark down dere, I wuz skeered."

"I'm sorry, Emma. It all happened so fast. But next time we'll put a candle or lantern down there for you."

"You gwine make me go down dere agin, Miz Katie?" wailed Emma as she climbed up out of the dark hole.

"Only if we have to, Emma. Only if someone comes again. But it will be better next time, I promise."

A TALK A ABOUT G G.o.d.

9.

ONE DAY AFTER WE HAD JUST FINISHED THE milking, we were taking the cows out to pasture. As the two of us were walking along the road I glanced back. There were the eight or ten milk cows following lazily along, stretching out behind us in ones and twos. And I realized that we were doing it, we were getting up every morning and keeping things going. It might not have been much of a plantation, but at least the animals were still alive and we were surviving, although we were sure drinking a lot of milk. It was good for Emma, though. She was starting to fill out a little and was looking a mite less scrawny. And in time I reckoned William would start drinking some cow's milk directly from a bottle instead of his mama's breast. milking, we were taking the cows out to pasture. As the two of us were walking along the road I glanced back. There were the eight or ten milk cows following lazily along, stretching out behind us in ones and twos. And I realized that we were doing it, we were getting up every morning and keeping things going. It might not have been much of a plantation, but at least the animals were still alive and we were surviving, although we were sure drinking a lot of milk. It was good for Emma, though. She was starting to fill out a little and was looking a mite less scrawny. And in time I reckoned William would start drinking some cow's milk directly from a bottle instead of his mama's breast.

I glanced back again.

The cows behind us didn't care how old we were. They just went where we led them and ate the food we gave them and let us milk them. They didn't care if we were black or white or young or old.

A wave of happiness surged through me as we walked. I ain't sure quite what caused it. But with the sun shining and the cows clomping along and me and Katie just going about the day like it wasn't so unusual and like we actually knew what we were doing, it was just a good feeling.

I snuck a glance over at Katie beside me. She had a contented, almost happy, carefree look on her face too. She had already changed so much from when I'd first come. I could see it in her expression, just in the way she walked and talked. She was so much more confident already. She didn't look like a frightened little girl anymore. I think taking care of Emma had matured her more than anything. It made her feel useful and needed. She knew how much Emma and William depended on her for their very survival and that couldn't help but make a body feel more grown up about things.

"Miss Katie," I said as we walked along, "do you ever wonder why G.o.d let all this happen-our families getting killed I mean?"

"Do you think He let it happen, Mayme?" she said.

"I thought He made everything happen," I said. "I thought that's what G.o.d's will was, everything that happened."

"I don't see how something as bad as that could be G.o.d's will," she said.

I thought about what she'd said a minute.

"I see what you mean. I guess I don't see how it could be either, if He's a good G.o.d," I said. "But I thought everything was His will."

"I don't know," said Katie. "My mama and daddy didn't teach me too much about G.o.d."

We walked along a while more. My mind was turning the thing around and around.

"Do you think He is a good G.o.d, Miss Katie?" I said after a bit.

"I don't know. I just thought He was ... G.o.d."

"But what's He like?"

"I don't know. But doesn't it seem like He'd have to be good?"

"Why's that?"

"Well, if He's G.o.d, He'd have have to be good, wouldn't He?" to be good, wouldn't He?"

"I don't know. I don't reckon I ever thought about it much before."

"What else could He be?"

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't know. It just seems that way. I mean, life is a good thing, isn't it? So if G.o.d made it, He'd have to be good."

"Life ain't so good if you're a slave," I said. "And life ain't been so good to you and me and Emma. How can life be good when there's so much killing?"

Katie thought about that a minute.

"Maybe G.o.d made things good at first," she said. "I bet there weren't any slaves back then."

"I reckon you're right," I said. "It sure don't seem like G.o.d could want one person owning another and being mean to them and with folks of all colors being able to kill each other."

"So if G.o.d doesn't like people being slaves," said Katie, "maybe He's still good, even though people do bad things, like those men who killed our families."

Again I thought for a minute. It was hard to get my brain to grab hold of the idea all the way. The harder I thought about it, the more it moved around, like the idea was trying to squirt out of my hand.

"But it still seems like He'd have done something to not let it happen, if He's good like you say," I said finally. "Why wouldn't G.o.d make good things happen instead of bad things?"

"Maybe He can't," said Katie.

"Why couldn't He? If He's G.o.d, can't He do anything?"

"I don't know. Maybe He can't make people be good if they don't want to."

"Hmm ... I suppose that could be."

"Maybe He doesn't want to make all the bad things in the world go away, things like your being a slave, and those marauder men."

"I wonder why not."

"I don't know," said Katie. "But I see what you mean-why can so much bad happen if G.o.d is good? It seems like He ought to do something to keep it from happening."

"Yet as much bad as has happened to us," I said, "G.o.d's taken care of us too. I think He cares about us, don't you, Miss Katie?"

"Yes, I think He does."

"So maybe there's good and bad all mixed together, like it's been for us. Even though terrible things have happened, G.o.d still loves us-at least we're pretty sure He does. So that part of Him must be good. Though I admit, it's still a mite confusing."

We walked for a couple minutes just thinking.

"I wonder how you find out," I said finally.

"Find out what?" asked Katie.

"What G.o.d's like."

"Isn't that what the Bible's for?"

"I don't know, I just thought it was stories about olden times."

"I suppose you could ask Him what He's like."

"You mean ask G.o.d?" I said. "Like we did before, when we asked for His help?"

Katie nodded.

"But how would He tell you the answer?"

"I don't know," said Katie.

"Maybe by how you feel," I said, "like when I thought He was telling me to stay here. It was a mighty strange but good feeling to think that G.o.d was talking to me."

We were just about to the field by now. We led the cows through the open gate, then closed it behind them. They frolicked for a few seconds in the thick, tall green gra.s.s, if something as big and clumsy as a cow can frolic. Then they got down to their business of the day, which was to eat as much of it as they could.

We turned and walked back toward the house. Neither of us said anything more for four or five minutes. We were about halfway back by then. I'd been thinking the whole way about what Katie had said a little while ago about asking G.o.d.

"Why don't we, then?" I said.

"Why don't we what?" said Katie.

"Ask G.o.d what He's like. We prayed that other time in the house, when we were reading the Bible and asked Him to come live in us. And then I prayed that He'd show me what to do about staying. So it seems like when we pray, He answers, doesn't it?"

"It seems like it," said Katie.

"So why don't we ask Him this?"

"Okay," said Katie. "I guess if He wants to live in our hearts and answer our prayers, then He'd want us to know what He's like."

"I reckon He would at that," I said.

"G.o.d, please show us what you're like," said Katie without even a pause. We kept walking, and she just prayed so natural, with her eyes still open. I was always surprised at how natural she was with G.o.d, as if He was right there with us and there wasn't anything to be afraid of or feel funny about by just talking to Him like you'd talk to anybody. But I reckon if you can't be comfortable and natural with Him, who can you be comfortable and natural with at all? said Katie without even a pause. We kept walking, and she just prayed so natural, with her eyes still open. I was always surprised at how natural she was with G.o.d, as if He was right there with us and there wasn't anything to be afraid of or feel funny about by just talking to Him like you'd talk to anybody. But I reckon if you can't be comfortable and natural with Him, who can you be comfortable and natural with at all?

"I ask you to show me too, G.o.d," I said. I said. "We want to know what you're like, and if you're good, even though so many bad things happen." "We want to know what you're like, and if you're good, even though so many bad things happen."

BACK H HOME.

10.

EVEN THOUGH I'D AGREED TO STAY AT ROSE wood with Katie, I couldn't keep from thinking once in a while about what would become of us ... later, I mean. I was still concerned about Katie's uncles. I'd agreed to stay for now. But I knew I couldn't just stay forever. wood with Katie, I couldn't keep from thinking once in a while about what would become of us ... later, I mean. I was still concerned about Katie's uncles. I'd agreed to stay for now. But I knew I couldn't just stay forever.

And I couldn't help thinking from time to time about my own status too. I was a runaway slave just like Emma was. Like I'd said to Katie, there wasn't any two ways about it-bad things happened to runaways. I wondered what had happened to my master and the rest of the plantation. Had they been killed too, like my family? When Katie and me had gone back, I hadn't seen or heard anything. But I hadn't felt like getting none too close to the plantation house to find out. I didn't want anybody to see me. But now I found myself wondering. If they hadn't been killed, and if they found me, I'd be in big trouble. For all I knew Mr. McSimmons knew who'd been killed and who hadn't and was out looking for me.

So I decided to go back to the McSimmons place again. I reckon it was a stupid thing to do, because if they got their hands on me, they'd put me to work or into some bed with a man. I'd heard about some of the McSimmons boys, and I didn't like the thought of that one bit. But I had to know what had happened to the rest of them, and what was likely to happen to me. I couldn't think straight to help Katie know what to do unless I had some idea about myself.

I thought about it for a week or more. Part of me was terrified to go back again. Somehow I think I knew I'd get seen. Another part of me didn't want to do that to Katie. But finally I couldn't hardly think of nothing else. I had to find out if anybody was alive or not.

So finally one day I told Katie that I was going back to my old house again.