As Louella and William walked back home talking about the beauty of life and what they had witnessed with Abigail giving birth to two babies on the same day, an idea struck.
Louella put her hand in William’s. “Abigail was in great pain, but when Femi and I sang to her, she was comforted.”
“Yes, ma’am.” William nodded. “The spirituals have a way of calming the soul, that’s for sure.”
“Sooo . . . I was thinking about those hateful men who rode up to our house the other night. Been pondering on ways that we could calm our neighbors, help them to see we don’t mean them harm.”
William held tight to Louella’s arm as they maneuvered down the hill. “People fear change is all. Can’t rightly see how we can fix that.”
“Maybe we need to see if we can calm the people with music.”
* * *
Christmas was upon them, so Louella filled the wagon with children and a few adults from their choir and rode into town. A lot of carolers went door to door, but Louella wasn’t sure they’d be welcomed and didn’t want to put the children in harm’s way, so they found an empty spot on the street and started singing “Silent Night.” When that song was finished, they rocked back and forth, clapping their hands while singing “Joy to the World.”
When they started singing, many walked on by and averted their eyes, pretending to be too busy to take a moment to receive a bit of Christmas cheer from them. But when they began their last song, that’s when the crowd gathered. Louella saw smiles on faces that looked different from hers as she and the others belted out . . .
“O holy night, the stars are brightly shining.
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth . . .”
After Louella sang the solo parts of the song, the onlookers were clapping. But when they got to the chorus and the choir brought it up a notch, Louella saw women weeping as they sang . . .
“Fall on your knees. O hear the angel voices!
O night divine! O night when Christ was born.
O night, O holy night, O night divine.”
“That was a wonderful sight,” Louella said as they rode back to the Happy Land.
“Leave it to ‘O Holy Night’ to make grown women cry,” Elmira said as she rode next to Louella.
“I’d say the event was a success!” Clara yelled from the back of the wagon where she sat with the children.
When they arrived home, Louella ran into the house, giddy from the joy they had brought to their neighbors. She wanted to share the events of the day with William, but Robert was sitting at the table with her husband. They appeared to be in a heated discussion.
William lifted his head as Louella closed the door. He walked over to her and helped take her coat off. “How was the caroling?”
Pulling off her white gloves, Louella smiled bright. “It was lovely. The people clapped for us, and some of them even cried.” She picked up Joshua as he ran into her arms. “We’re going back on Saturday.”
Robert pounded a fist to the table and turned in William’s direction. “When will you stop encouraging your wife in all this tomfoolery that profits us nothing?”
Louella’s hands went to her hips. “What we’re doing isn’t foolish.”
“I say it is.” Robert stood. “Those women and children could be busying themselves with work right here in the Happy Land instead of singing for people they don’t know and may never see again.” He said the word singing as if it was a dirty and disgusting thing.
Louella’s nostrils flared as she handed Joshua to William and stormed over to Robert. “I’m not the one neglecting things that need doing around here. You’re the one we can’t find half the time.”
Robert opened his mouth to say something, but Louella swung back around to William. Her thumb jutted back at Robert. “Your brother would rather put our children to work than allow them to gain a proper education and have field trips where they sow good cheer.”
“What kind of education is singing Christmas carols?”
Louella swung back around to her brother-in-law. She wagged a finger in his face. “Slavery days is over, Massa. You don’t get to throw our children in the fields before they even know how to count to ten or read. There’s a whole new world opening up for our children, and I’m gon’ make sure they’re prepared to go out there and grab a piece of the pie for themselves.”
“William, do you hear how your wife disrespects me? I’m not going to stand here and be talked to like this.”
“Please don’t continue to stand here. This is our home. You’re free to go to yours,” Louella told him as her neck rocked back and forth.
“Louella, that’s enough. It isn’t right to disrespect a guest in our home like this.” William’s chest heaved.
Louella had meant every word she said to her brother-in-law, but her words had grieved her husband. She stepped away from Robert, took Joshua out of William’s arms, and said, “I’ll leave you gentlemen to your business.”
Louella took Joshua to his room. She kissed him on the forehead and laid him down. “Time for a nap.”
“Don’t want no nap,” Joshua told her.
She pointed to Waties’s bed, where her older son lay sound asleep. “Your brother took his nap, so it’s your turn.”
Louella went to her room and settled in. The day had been tiring. All she wanted to do was lie down and rest before thinking about what came next. But no sooner had her eyelids closed as she began drifting than William came barreling into their bedroom demanding her attention.
“This thing between you and Robert has got to end.”
Sighing, Louella sat up. “Did you tell your brother that, or am I the only one needing to bend?”
“Don’t start with me. Robert objecting to your little project didn’t give you cause to speak to him in that manner.” William sat down on the bed and took his shoes off.
“It’s not a little project. The Happy Land singers will help our neighbors see us as human beings. Then as they see our humanness, it is my prayer that they come to see we’re entitled to the same benefits they enjoy.”
William’s demeanor softened. He walked over to Louella’s side of the bed and sat down next to her. “You’re trying to keep us safe. I know that, and I appreciate everything you’re doing, but you got to learn how to disagree without being disagreeable.”
William put his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed the spot that seemed to bother him every time he helped out with the plowing. Louella said, “Lay down on your stomach and let me take care of that kink in your neck.”
He took off his shirt and stretched out on the bed. Louella kneaded his back with her fists from the top of his buttocks all the way up his spine until she reached his neck. She then used her fingers to massage his neck and shoulders until he moaned as if her touch was everything.
He rolled over, looking relaxed. “Queen of my heart, I thank you for ministering to your husband.”
She leaned forward and touched her lips to his. Soft. She loved kissing him . . . loved being with him.
“You tired?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
“I’m whatever you need me to be,” she told him and then snuggled in beside him.
* * *
On Saturday, Louella and the Happy Land Choir went caroling again. This time they brought some of the Happy Land Liniment so they wouldn’t be accused of not being productive. They sang and then sold the liniment, then sang another song. They continued the back-and-forth for about three hours.
When they were ready to pack up and go, the blond-haired man who’d purchased forty tins of liniment came to their table. “It’s you,” he said.
Louella couldn’t tell if he was happy to see her or if he was there to complain about the product she’d sold him. They were trying to get the people in this town to trust them. It wouldn’t do to have someone bad-mouthing her. They had made a little over two dollars today. If he complained, she would hand him the money and go.
“How are you doing, sir? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“I’ve been back and forth to the general store, but you never came back.”
That’s because the owner is a Ku Klux Klan member, Louella thought, but instead said, “We found a new location.”
He reached in his pocket. “How many tins do you have?”
Louella counted the tins and then looked up at him. “We have ten left.”
“I’ll take them.” He handed her a dollar and said, “Keep the change.”
People ’round these parts rarely told them to keep the change. Money was always hard to come by, so people held on to what they had. Louella was thankful he wasn’t complaining. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you.” He smiled and then held out a hand to her. “My name is Dr. David Morris, and I’d love to introduce you to my mother.”
Louella’s eyebrow lifted. “Sir?” Did he ask her to meet his mother?
He pointed down the street. “We don’t live far from here. My mom is the person I purchased your liniment for, and she’s been asking about you since the first time she rubbed that cream on her hands.”
It was strange to Louella’s ears—a white man inviting her into his home. What if he was a member of the Ku Klux Klan and was plotting to do her harm?
“Your whole group can come if you’d be more comfortable. Maybe even sing a song with my mother.”
Louella turned to Clara. “He wants us to go to his house to see his mother.”
“His mother?” Clara questioned with a frown.
Dr. Morris put a hand over his mouth and laughed. “I promise I’m not some crazed killer. I heal people. I do not harm them.”
Something in the doctor’s eyes put Louella at ease. His mother used her liniment. Maybe the lady would continue to order if she met with her. “Okay. We were packing up to go. Let us put our table in the wagon, and we’ll follow you.”
* * *
The house was white with a wraparound porch and three tall pillars on either side of the double-door entry. There were ten steps that led up to the porch. It was the stateliest home Louella had ever laid eyes on. And Dr. Morris marched all six of the Happy Land singers right through the front door like welcomed guests.
The high ceiling in the foyer and the spiral staircase took Louella’s breath away. But it was the sweet sound of music coming from the grand piano beneath the staircase that enveloped her with warmth.
Dr. Morris urged them forward toward the piano, where a gray-haired lady sat playing it as if touching the keys and hearing the music breathed life into her.
“Mother, I brought someone for you to meet,” Dr. Morris said as he stood to the side of the piano.
She stopped playing, gave her son a gracious smile, then turned toward Louella and her singers. Awe and wonder etched across her face. She had a kind face. She didn’t have that superior tilt to her neck and those tight lips that Mary always had.
“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise. Where do you all come from?”
Louella told her, “We live farther up the mountain over by Serepta Davis’s place.”
The woman slapped her hands to her skirt. “Serepta and I were once very good friends. But neither of us get around much these days. I haven’t seen her in years. I hope she’s doing well.”
Louella nodded. “She is.”
“Oh joy. So what brings you all here today?”
Dr. Morris told his mother, “Louella is the woman I purchased the liniment from.”
At his words, the woman put one hand on the piano stool and held the other out to her son. He helped her stand up. She then went to Louella and hugged her. “God bless you. I’m so thankful my son ran into you.”
Louella stiffened at the woman’s touch. Had she ever been hugged by a white woman? No, not a single recollection came to mind. But as this woman blessed her and thanked her, Louella leaned into the embrace.
When the embrace ended, a warmth of acceptance spread through Louella. But could she trust what she was feeling? The Klan were certainly hateful men, but . . . Serepta hadn’t been like the white folks she’d come up with. Maybe this woman wasn’t either.
Dr. Morris held up the tins in his hand. “I purchased more.”
His mother clapped. “I can share some with my friends.”
Clara leaned close to Louella. “Are you okay?”
“I-I—” When words escaped her, Louella nodded. So many thoughts and emotions swirled inside her. She didn’t know how to make sense of it all.
Dr. Morris then turned to Louella and said, “After my father died, my mother became so despondent, I thought we were going to lose her as well. Her hands hurt terribly. She could no longer play this piano. All my life, I’ve known how much joy playing the piano brought my mother. So when I saw you on the street, selling your liniment, claiming to cure rheumatism—”
Louella held up a finger. “I made no such claim.”
Dr. Morris smiled. “I stand corrected. The lady who was with you made that claim. But anyway, I gave the ointment to my mother, and within a week, she was back to playing her beloved piano and finding joy in the world again. We wanted to thank you.”
His words brought comfort to Louella’s soul. “I’m thankful we played a part in your mama’s healing.”
His mother went back to the piano. “Would you all like to join me in a song?”
Louella turned to her group. Heads nodded; grins spread across their faces at the thought of singing alongside a piano. “We’d love to,” she told the woman.
Joy filled the room as Mrs. Morris led them in song. Laughter bubbled up in Louella. Actual laughter . . . around white folks. But then the front door opened and wiped away all the merriment.
Freddie Morris walked in carrying a crate of apples. “The bushels of red apples came in today. I know how you love them, so I brought you some.”
Louella quickly grabbed two of the children and told Clara to grab the other two. “We best be heading back.”
Mrs. Morris stopped playing. Her eyes were filled with confusion. “What happened? I thought we were having fun.”
“We were.” Louella eyed Freddie. “But the children need to get home for supper. I’ve kept them out too long as it is.”
Louella rushed them to the door and was headed down the street when Freddie ran toward them. “Leave us be, Mr. Morris. We will not bother that nice lady again.”
Louella and Clara helped the children get in the wagon. “You weren’t bothering her. My mother has been asking to meet you for a while now. But I was too ashamed to tell my brother that I knew where you were.”
Louella swung around, her back against the wagon, daggers shooting from her eyes. “You should be ashamed. I thought you were a decent man.”
“I am a decent man,” he declared.
“Oh yeah. Decent men always go around in blackface, scaring people away from their homes.”
Clara climbed in the wagon and Louella did the same. She grabbed the reins, preparing to leave.
Freddie stuffed his hands in the pockets of his overalls. “Maybe I shouldn’t have gone up the mountain with those fellows. But they said you and your people were stealing land while white men were going homeless in these parts.”
“Did they also tell you my people spent years knocking trees down so we could have the space to build our homes? Which of your white men would have done that?”
The lowering of his head and the way his eyes no longer met hers was answer enough. She rode away, anger pricking her heart. Once again, the color of her skin meant she was doing wrong, even when she wasn’t. Yesterday, that would have set her soul ablaze. But today, she had been in the company of someone who treated her as if color didn’t matter.
Things would get better for her people. They would get the respect they deserved in this world. One day at a time, one person at a time. And frankly, it mattered less and less what others thought of her. Louella was a queen, and queens didn’t bow to the foolishness of the world.