By morning, the swell in Louella’s feet had slightly diminished, but not enough for William’s liking. He piled lumber under her feet to elevate them while Mama Sue took some of the gel from an aloe vera plant and rubbed it on them.
They were preparing to leave, but then the rain came and muddied the trail they were following. If the wheels of those wagons got stuck in the mud, they’d have to rustle up the strength of Samson to get them out. William told the group, “Looks like we’ll be holding camp one more night, but make sure all of your things are packed. We’ll head out first light of day tomorrow.”
Louella took respite under an oak tree that had enough leaves to hold off the rain from beating down on her head. Scratching the scar on her wrist, Louella turned her back to the oak but stayed put.
Sighing, she made peace with holding camp another day. God might be keeping them from danger on the road. After all, if they hadn’t held camp yesterday, they wouldn’t have met the Johnson family, nor would they have known about them Night Riders setting traps for formerly enslaved people who were traveling by night. Louella prayed that things would be different up north—prayed that they would find a place where they could have an ounce of dignity.
Abigail handed Louella a bowl of grits and a piece of the pheasant the men had brought back yesterday.
Louella took the offering. “Thank you.”
“I’m the one who needs to be doing the thanking.” Abigail sat down next to Louella.
Louella waved a hand in the air. “Don’t even think on it.”
“Can’t help but to think on it.” Abigail put her hands in her lap, then exhaled like she was trying to expel some demons from within. “Robert purchased me from a slave owner who did terrible things to children.” Abigail’s eyes clouded over with shame. “I kept expecting Robert to claim his due, as my former owner called it, but he never harmed me in any way. I think he’s just jealous ’cause I’m keeping company with Tommy.”
“Jealous or not, he had no business shaming you in front of everyone like that.”
Tears glistened in Abigail’s eyes as she gave Louella a weak smile. “When you told me to lift my head yesterday, something clicked inside my whole being.”
The baby squirmed in Louella’s stomach. It had been hours since the last time she ate, so she took a few spoonsful of the grits while listening to Abigail.
“I’m free . . . I’m not owned by nobody and no one can extract their due like my old massa ever again.”
Louella shoved Abigail’s shoulder. “Dry your weeping eyes, girl. You done stumbled on the truth, and you know what the truth will do for you, right?”
With furrowed brows, Abigail said, “I don’t understand.”
Patiently, like a teacher, Louella told her, “It’s a phrase from the Bible. John 8:32 tells us, ‘And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.’”
“Oh,” Abigail said quietly. Then she told Louella, “I wasn’t taught to read or write. Don’t know much about the Good Book or any other book.”
Louella put her bowl down. “The world seems so small when we have only one way of seeing a thing. But reading takes your mind to places you’ve never been.” She took Abigail’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “I can teach you, if you want.”
A tear rolled down Abigail’s face. She wiped it away. “No fooling?”
Louella giggled. “No fooling. For sure and true.”
Abigail jumped up and hugged her. She then ran over to Tommy and excitedly told him that she was going to learn to read.
Louella heard Tommy say, “I don’t reckon that’s a good idea. Don’t want you getting ideas in that beautiful head of yours.”
But Abigail put her hands on her hips, wagged a finger in his face. “Get used to it. I’m a free woman, and I’m gon’ make something of myself in this world.”
Louella screamed internally, You tell him, Abigail! These men weren’t going to be the only ones getting opportunities when they made it to their promised land. Louella would see to it. And Abigail might help her with that mission.
Later that evening as they were sitting around the fire talking about the day’s adventures, Marshal said, “A man from the Freedmen’s Bureau come to my house right before them Night Riders burned it down.”
“You don’t say.” William was stretched out next to Louella with an elbow on the ground holding him up. “I read something about that organization starting up a few months back.”
“They say I don’t have to keep my old enslaved name. Say I can change it to whatever I want, so when we get settled, I’m changing my last name.”
Larry shrugged. “Don’t see what all the fuss is about. People know me by Larry. What do I need a last name for?”
“My great-grandfather was stolen from the Ashante people,” Marshal told them. “All my life, my family reminded me where I came from. If I can’t go back, I’ll at least take the Ashante name for my family. We shall be known as Marshal and Sooni Ashante.” His chest puffed up as he said the name with pride.
Tommy stood and addressed the group. “My mama wanted to name me Femi, an African name that means ‘love me,’ because I was the only somebody who loved her.” His face tightened, eyes took on sadness. “But Massa Montgomery wouldn’t allow it, so if I get a chance, I’m changing my first name to Femi.”
Abigail put her hand in his. “We don’t have to wait. I’ll call you Femi from this day forward.” The two hugged and then, in front of God and everyone else in the camp, their eyes met, and they kissed.
Louella and several others clapped and shouted, “’Bout time!” But Robert scowled, got up, and stormed away from the group.
Gary stepped forward. He looked at Clara and their son, Jimmy. “We’ve carried the name Bailey since I was born, but I don’t want that ol’ enslaved name no more. I’d like to change our name to Freeman if that be all right with y’all.”
Clara and Jimmy put their arms around Gary. When they parted again, Clara told him, “That sounds like a mighty fine name to me.”
They continued talking through the night about the names they would prefer now that they were free to choose for themselves. Later that night as she and William lay side by side, she whispered in his ear, “What about you? Do you have a name picked out for us?”
Louella had been given the last name Bobo, same as her mother, grandmother, and brother, from their first owner before Montgomery came to Mississippi. She didn’t mind getting rid of that name since it meant “fool.” But William told her that Montgomery’s ledger only listed the original enslaved people by their first name, so her husband didn’t have a last name.
“Montgomery,” William said without much contemplation. “I want our name to be Montgomery.”
Louella clamped her mouth shut as bile from deep in her belly threatened to spring forth. They were finally away from their captors, and Louella wanted to fly all the way free. Why couldn’t they have a last name like Freeman or Ashante?
He must’ve seen the look of horror on her face. He cleared his throat and said, “I know you don’t like it, but that name is a part of my story. Can you be okay with it for me?”
She turned her back to him. Silence was her answer. She had great respect for William and for the good man that he was. But the Montgomery name was like dung flung in her face.
* * *
By morning, Louella’s feet were back to normal. She rode on the wagon with William when they set out. William explained that they would have to go through Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina on their way north. The journey was long, and traveling by the light of day scared Louella.
“What you fretting ’bout, girl?” William asked while flapping the reins on the oxen.
“Nothing much. Been praying for our safety.”
William let go of one of the reins, put a hand over hers, then took the rein back. “I’ve been praying too. A lot of people are traveling to God only knows where with us. I’m responsible for each of them.”
“We’re all counting on you, William. You won’t let us down.”
“That’s a lot of burden heaped on one man,” he said as they made their way up a hill. The oxen were moving slow, so the walkers behind the wagon had to stop and wait for them to get up the hill.
“No more burden than these oxen feel trying to get us up this hill with the heavy load we have in the wagon.”
Laughing, William said, “That makes me feel a lot better.”
Louella put a hand on her belly as she shifted in her seat. “This baby wants to be out into this world. I just can’t fathom what the hurry is all about.”
Concern etched across William’s face. “You okay? Do we need to stop and rest awhile?”
She shook her head. “I think I’ll get out and walk at our next stop.”
“We shouldn’t have left before you had the baby. This trip has been too hard on you.”
“We had no choice. Overseer Brown would’ve extracted retribution for how you waylaid him.”
They made it up the grassy hill and started riding on level ground through a landscape of nothing but trees as far as the eye could see on either side of the trail. “Are you still cross with me?”
Biting down on her lip, Louella shifted in her seat again. Tagging her with that name, Montgomery, was like being reminded of the worst part of her life over and over. “I don’t want to think on those people and their devilment ever again.”
“This isn’t about them. It’s about me. And that’s the name I choose for our family.”
Louella turned back to him. She saw the longing in his eyes. Sighing deeply, she sat with her pain a moment longer, then relented. “Guess it won’t kill me . . . long as I don’t see hide nor hair of that plantation again.”
They rode in silence for a little while, passing tree after tree . . . Why were trees everywhere? She could go her whole lifetime and be content never to see another tree again. Then suddenly, Louella screamed, “Stop the wagon! Oh Lordy, stop now.”
William pulled on the reins. When the oxen came to a stop, he turned to Louella. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
She stared at the oak tree on the other side of the road. It was a thick tree with thick branches, ripe for lynching. “Help me down from this wagon.”
“Do you need me to get Mama Sue?”
“Help get me down.”
“What’s going on up there?” Robert yelled from behind them. “We still have a few hours left of daylight.”
William jumped down and ran around to Louella’s side. He held out a hand to her and helped her step down from the wagon. “Will you tell me what’s got you upset?”
She pointed toward the oak tree. William turned to look. A noose was hanging from one of the thick limbs of the tree. “Louella, this is madness. Why’d you have me stop?”
“I can’t leave that there.” Her finger angrily jutted toward the oak tree as her eyes widened with indignation. “That noose is there, waiting for a body.” Anger pushed her forward as she made her way to that dreaded tree. Her heart constricted with every step she took.
She wanted to climb that tree and loose that ungodly noose. But she couldn’t get up the tree in her condition. She yanked and yanked and yanked. “Argh!” she yelled in frustration.
“Will you get your wife?” Robert demanded.
“Come on, Louella. We’ve got to clear more road before nightfall.”
Louella folded her arms and let them rest on her belly. “I won’t leave this spot until I have that noose in my hand.”
“Girl, if you don’t get back in that wagon and stop being a nuisance.” Robert took his hat off and slapped it against his pants. He blew out air, his face showing his frustration. “If you take that noose down, what’s that gon’ do? Don’t you think them boys will put another noose on that tree if they really want to lynch somebody?”
“They might,” Louella said with a calmness she didn’t possess. Her heart ached and bled for a soul she didn’t know . . . a soul who would have to endure a lynch mob for no other reason than the color of his skin. “But I won’t make it easy for them.” She shook her head with conviction. “This noose is coming down.” She turned back and yanked on it again.
Jimmy came forward. “I’ll climb up there and get it for you, Mrs. Louella.”
Louella nodded her gratitude, then he headed up the tree. Jimmy was young and spry, so he mounted that tree like a possum scurrying away from a hunter. He reached the limb where the rope was tied. Jimmy untied it, climbed down the tree, and handed it to Louella.
She turned to face the group and held up the rope so everyone could see the offending noose. “This, my friends, is a lie. They put the noose around our necks and kill us as if we’re nothing and mean less than nothing to this world. But we’re not what these Night Riders think in their cold, dark hearts about us.”
Louella pumped the fisted hand that held the noose in the air several times as a river of tears cascaded down her face. She didn’t want anyone else on God’s green earth to endure the pain of finding a loved one hanging from a tree. “Repeat after me: This is a lie. Our lives matter.”
The group stood tall and yelled back, “This is a lie! Our lives matter!”
She gripped the rope and began to sing, “There is a happy land, far, far away, where saints in glory stand, bright, bright as day. Oh, how they sweetly sing, worthy is our Savior King.”
Louella lowered her head and wept as a pain so deep crept up and clawed into her heart. The white folks on the plantation used to sing that “Happy Land” song, but Louella never understood—could never imagine a happy land for her and for people who looked like her.
Clara stepped forward and continued the song. “Oh, we shall happy be, when from sin and sorrow free.”
Wiping the tears from her eyes, Louella glanced over at her friend. They clasped hands and sang together.
When they were finished, William wiped his eyes and told the people, “I declare before you all this day, we will find this Happy Land, and we will all live in a place free from fear. We’ll work together and build a nation that’s built on mutual respect.”
Cheers went up. Then Louella said, “Now let’s get back on the road.”