Louella went to bed that night with so much joy in her heart. But she woke to a cross burning in her front yard.
“What in the world?” William jumped out of their bed, threw his housecoat on, and then rushed out the front door.
Louella went to the bedroom next door and checked on her children. They were sound asleep. She then stood at the front door as William hollered for the men to come out and help him.
The first to open his door was Femi, then Gary, then one by one, about fifteen men were standing out in the yard.
“Grab some buckets. We need to put this fire out!” William shouted.
“What kind of devil would do something like this?” one of the men yelled as they grabbed buckets of water and started dousing the fire.
“It was probably that John Goodwin. I see how he looks at us when he comes to get his share of the timber,” Femi said.
Gary put fisted hands on his hips. “Same way ol’ Bailey used to look at me. But ain’t nobody running us off our land this time. I can promise you that.”
“Did anybody see who came on our land?” William asked once the fire was out.
The men were shaking their heads when Abigail came running over to their yard. She ran so fast that she bent over, huffed a few times to catch her breath, then said, “I saw them.” She pointed toward the road. “From where our house is, I can see the road that leads up here. It was two white men. One with blond hair and the other had coal-black hair.”
Louella stepped out onto the porch. “Would you remember them if you saw them again?”
“I’m not sure. It was dark, and all I could make out was the color of their hair.”
Glancing around, Louella wrapped her shawl around her body to stave off the cold night air. “Looks like they’re gone. We all might as well get a little more sleep before the sun comes up.”
She stayed on the porch, waiting as everyone dispersed, projecting an image of calm. She and William were the leaders of the group. They couldn’t fall apart over some burning cross on the lawn. But Louella didn’t plan to sit around and do nothing about it either.
When William came back into the house, she said, “We can’t let that John Goodwin run us off.”
“I don’t think John has anything to do with this.” William shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would he sell us the land and then burn a cross in our yard?”
“He didn’t sell us the land. Mrs. Serepta did that, with Sarah being in agreement. But didn’t you notice how hostile John was to us when we sat at Mrs. Serepta’s table?”
“I noticed.” William lifted a hand and walked past Louella. “Let’s get some sleep so we can think this through clearly in the morning.”
She got back in bed with William, but Louella couldn’t sleep.
* * *
In the morning, Louella and Abigail took the wagon into town to sell some of the rheumatoid liniment.
They set up their table outside of the general store. As they were setting the product on the table, Abigail’s eyes brightened. “You know what we should do?”
“Sell all of these tins of liniment so we can contribute to buying more seed for our crops?”
“Well, yes, of course that.” Abigail picked up one of the tins. “But we should call this stuff Happy Land Liniment.”
Louella crooked her head to the side. Nodded a few times. “I think you came up with something. I love it.”
A gray-haired lady walked by. Abigail stopped her. “Excuse me, ma’am, but have you tried our Happy Land Liniment? It’s the best thing for sore hands.”
The woman shook her head and continued into the general store.
The next woman did the same thing. Then a gentleman passed by and heard them yelling, “Get your Happy Land Liniment here and cure your rheumatism in no time!”
The gentleman turned around and came back to their table. He picked up one of the tins. “Are you telling me that this liniment cures rheumatism?”
Abigail gleefully said, “It sure does. You should try it.”
But Louella said, “I can’t guarantee that it will go away forever, but I can tell you that my grandmother suffers from rheumatism, and every time she puts this liniment on her hands, she gets relief.”
“Now that sounds like an honest answer.” He grinned at her. “How much?”
“Five cents a tin.”
He took two dollars out of his pocket. “How much will that cover?”
Abigail’s eyes bulged. “My goodness. That’ll be about forty tins.”
Louella smiled. The lessons were paying off for her friend. They bagged up his order, and he was on his way. “We only have two tins left. We should be able to get back to the Happy Land in no time.”
“Too soon for me.” Abigail frowned as she leaned against the wall of the general store with arms folded.
Louella’s eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t like your new home?”
“Don’t think that.” Abigail came back to the table with Louella. “I love our new home. I’m what’s wrong. I’m such a failure and a fraud in it.”
Louella put a hand on Abigail’s shoulder. “What’s going on with you? Has Femi done something to upset you?”
“It’s not Femi at all. That man has been better to me than I deserve. Wish I could give him what he wants most.”
A woman came to the table. Louella sold her a tin of liniment, then turned to Abigail. “It’s the baby issue, isn’t it?”
Eyes widening, Abigail nodded. “How’d you know? Did Femi—”
Louella waved a hand. “Femi said nothing to us.”
Dropping her head, Abigail said, “My womb is barren.”
“Oh, Abigail, you don’t know that for sure.”
“Femi and I have been married almost four years, and I haven’t given him a child.” A tear trickled down her face. “I’m sure he regrets marrying me.”
Louella grabbed hold of Abigail’s shoulders. “You’re talking foolish. If I know anything, I know that Femi loves you. If a baby comes, it comes, but don’t lose sight of what you have.”
Before she could say more, a woman came over to their table. Her hair was stringy and red. She had a scowl on her face as she approached them. Abigail lifted a tin. “Would you like to try some of the Happy Land Liniment?”
“What Happy Land? Where do you people come from?” The woman shot daggers at them as she put a hand on her hip and tapped her foot.
“We’re up the road, ma’am. Over by the Oakland Plantation. Are you interested in our liniment? It soothes sore, aching hands.”
“My hands aren’t sore. I don’t do colored women’s work.”
Louella’s eyebrow arched, but she kept quiet. She would not let this woman’s foul spirit disturb her.
“Why are you standing in front of the general store? Who gave you authority to loiter out here?”
Louella pointed toward the store. “Mr. Morris allows us to set up out here a few days each month.”
“We’ll see about that.” The woman huffed and then stomped her way into the store. “Where is Freddie?” she shouted.
“We’re not blocking the entrance into the store,” Abigail said.
Louella clamped her mouth shut for fear that the ugly things she wanted to say about that woman would seep out.
Then she heard Freddie Morris, the owner of the general store, say, “Yes, Mrs. Anne, I do know those ladies are set up outside the store.”
Louella sighed in relief, looked to heaven, and mouthed, Thank You.
But the woman wouldn’t let it go. She kept screaming until Louella heard Freddie say, “Okay. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
Freddie Morris then ambled his way over to their table. “Good day to you, Louella . . . Abigail.”
“Good day to you, Mr. Morris. How’s business?” Louella asked. She kept her eyes directed toward him and didn’t turn toward the foul-spirited woman even when she heard her say, “If this kind of thing is going to be allowed around here, I might start shopping in the next town over.”
“Business has been good.” Freddie looked back at the woman, who kept an eagle eye on him. “Have to ask you to pack up.”
Abigail huffed. “I don’t know what that lady said, but we didn’t do anything to her.”
Louella put a hand on Abigail’s shoulder. She nodded to Freddie. “We’ll leave now. Thank you for allowing us to use this space today.”
Freddie walked away. Abigail whispered, “But we didn’t do anything wrong.”
“For some people, our very presence is wrong. If they can’t enslave us, then they want nothing to do with us.”
Louella and Abigail toted their table to the wagon and headed back to the Happy Land. Abigail asked, “Did you notice anything about Mr. Morris?”
“Nothing other than the fact that he’d rather please hateful people than keep his word.”
“He has blond hair.”
Louella laughed at that. “So did the man who bought forty tins from us. A lot of white men have blond hair.”
Abigail tapped her forehead twice with her index finger. “I might be oversensitive to blond-haired men.”
Louella held the reins tight as the horse trotted up the hill toward the Happy Land. “Something tells me that Mr. Morris isn’t the cross-burning type, but I like that you’re paying attention. We have to keep our eyes and ears open. Plenty people in this town are like Anne. We need to figure out which ones of them want to do us harm.”