“Get the dominoes, honey, and I’ll clear off the game table.”
Abby smiled to herself. Kate had obviously inherited her energy and love of life from her Grandfather Donald Greenfield.
Donald gathered up the newspapers and mail that cluttered the game table in the Greenfield family room and stacked them on top of other papers piled high on a desk in the corner of the room.
Kate’s grandmother Margaret brought a tin box of dominoes and set them on the table. “Katie got this deluxe set for us last Christmas.”
“Merri, how about if you team up with me?” Donald said.
“I don’t know how to play.”
“That’s all right. I’ll teach you.”
“Will you team up with me, Grams?”
“You bet, Katie. We’ll wipe the floor with them. You get started. I’m going to make popcorn.”
“We’ll wait for you, honey. Or when Merri and I win, you’ll say we took unfair advantage.”
“We can’t have that, can we?” John said.
“I’m so glad you brought your friends, Katie,” Donald said. “It’ll make dominoes even more exciting. Too bad Ryan couldn’t come, although he’s not very good at dominoes, is he?”
“No, he’s not. Not much good for anything.” Kate turned her face away and mumbled the last part.
“After this we’ll look at slides. I imagine you’ve never seen pictures of Katie when she was little. Such a cute baby.”
Abby grinned slyly at Kate who was rolling her eyes behind her grandfather’s back. “That will be so much fun,” Abby said.
John looked as if he were trying not to laugh. “This is a beautiful game table.”
“It’s hard rock maple. So solid you could dance a jig on it if you wanted to. The inlaid checkerboard is ebony and oak.”
“He’s being modest, John. He made it himself, didn’t you, Gramps?”
“The year you were born, Katydid. It will be yours one day. You can play dominoes on it with your grandchildren.”
“Kate must get her artistic talent from you, Mr. Greenfield,” Abby said.
“Well, no matter my artistic talent,” Kate said, “unfortunately the family tree mural will be grossly lopsided.”
“Oh, oh!” Donald slapped the side of his head. “I almost forgot.” He pushed himself up from his chair and shuffled over to the desk. “How could I forget, Katie? I meant to tell you soon as you got here but with all the excitement, it slipped my mind. It’s here some place.”
He sorted through the stacks of mail, newspapers, and flyers that covered nearly every inch of his desk. “If I don’t find it, your grandmother will never stop nagging me about cleaning off my desk. Hurry before she gets back. See if you can find it, Katie. Your eyes are sharper than mine.”
“What are we looking for, Gramps?”
“Here, hold this.” Donald placed a stack of Popular Science Magazines into John’s arms. He put a pile of Health Bulletins into Merri’s arms and one of Oak Park Gazettes into Abby’s.
“It’s here some place, unless your grandmother got it into her head to mess with my stuff. Margaret!” he called. “Have you seen—?”
“Don’t get your shorts in a twist, Donald.” Margaret stood in the doorway holding a tray with bowls of popcorn. “I promise. I did not touch your things.”
John hurriedly deposited his stack of magazines on the floor beside the desk and went to take the tray from her.
“I was going through some old letters,” Donald said.
“He saves every one, you know.”
“Yeah, well. You never know, do you, when you might need—”
“What did you find, Gramps?”
“It was in with some of Mother’s stuff.” He turned to the Abby and John. “She passed away last year and I’ve been going through her things.”
“You may have noticed the car’s parked in front,” Margaret said. “The garage is completely packed with boxes.”
“Here it is,” Donald said. “I remember now. I put it with the bills to pay so I wouldn’t forget to tell you.”
He held out a small brown box. On the lid, in fine script, was a name and address: Virgil Greenfield, 2341 Hillcrest Street, Chicago, Illinois. He removed the lid and pulled out a necklace. A copper coin about the size of a half-dollar hung on a brown leather cord.
Kate’s eyes went huge and she grabbed it from him and held it out for them to see. “Oh. My. Look, you guys. It’s Lady Liberty.”
Abby, John, and Merri crowded in close to see it. Abby studied Kate’s face. All she could see there was joy.
“That’s it then,” Kate said.
“And there’s this letter,” Donald said. He handed a thin, pale blue envelope to Kate. She handed the necklace to John and carefully removed one sheet of nearly transparent matching blue paper. She read aloud:
October 23, 1909
Dear Virgil,
Please don’t be angry that I wrote. I promise this is the last time. But I just had to thank you for the money you sent. You’re a generous, kind boy to share with us.
You’ll destroy this letter and all will be well with you. I imagine that you’re feeling all torn up inside right about now. But I want you to rest easy that I at least understand your choice to pass. And I’m happy for you. You’ll have opportunities for advancement that none of us will ever have.
With your parents gone now, there aren’t many of us Greenfields left. But one day, dear Virgil, you’ll be reunited with them and the rest of the family (most of them, anyway) when we stand in Glory. Don’t ever forget that. And although we won’t see you until that day, we’ll be thinking of you and hoping you’ll think of us, too.
This necklace was your great grandmother Greenfield’s. I don’t know anything about it, but I thought you might be encouraged when you look at Lady Liberty. I always was. I dream of the day when everyone is truly free and no one has to hide who he is just to hold a job.
Your loving cousin,
Jessamine
Kate went to the game table and slid bonelessly into her chair.
“What does it mean,” Merri asked, “passed.”
“I didn’t get that part, either, Merri,” Donald said. “But I thought the names in there might be of some help for your mural, Katie.”
Kate’s smile for her grandfather was watery. “I already had those names, Gramps. Mom and I traced us back to this Virgil’s grandfather Ned Greenfield. But this necklace proves….” She looked up at Abby. “Well, we won’t have to go back to the Illinois Street Church tomorrow after all, will we?”
“We thought you’d get a kick out of the necklace, Katie. Isn’t it neat?”
“It is, Grams. If only I could show you how neat it is. I was going to wait until I had more, but now….”
“Then you must have it, Katie.”
“Really?”
John handed it back to her, and after another close look, she slipped the leather cord over her head. “We come from courageous ancestors, Gramps,” she said, patting the necklace at her throat. “Come over and sit down and I’ll tell you what we found out about the Greenfield family.”
Margaret sat down in the chair next to Kate’s and took her hand. “Are you feeling all right, honey? You look a little pale.”
Kate chuckled and shot a look at Abby. “I am a little pale, Grams, but I’m feeling fine.”
Kate explained about their search in Equality and told her grandparents about Hickory Hill, Miss Granger, and what they found on the third floor. She described Brother Greenfield and Uncle Henry and their connection to Ned.
“We thought they were the wrong Greenfields, because, you see, they’re black. Ned and his parents were slaves.”
“Oh dear,” Donald said.
“Oh my,” Margaret said.
“Gramps, the cousin who wrote this letter to Virgil was referring to passing from the African-American culture into the white culture. Somewhere along the line, some of Ned’s descendants married white people. This Virgil was obviously light enough to pass for white.”
“It sounds like he was forced to in order to get a job,” John said.
“My word,” Donald said, looking from Kate to his wife.
“Are you all right with that, Gramps?”
Donald blinked and turned back to her. “Of course I am, honey.” He chuckled. “It’s just that all this time I assumed Greenfield was a Jewish name.”
“Just think of how difficult it must have been to give up your own heritage, everything you knew, everyone you knew,” Margaret said.
Kate smiled, obviously pleased by their reaction to the news. “We learned Ned’s parents’ names—only their first names—in the slave registry. We may never be able to trace back beyond them. But I want to go down to the courthouse again someday and take another look.”
“Would you like some company?” Gramps asked.
Kate threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “That would be wonderful.”
“Well, we have to meet Brother Greenfield and Uncle Henry, don’t we? After all, they’re my cousins.”
“Oh, Gramps! You and Grams are going to love them. I’ll get my sketch book and show you.”