Amelia watched Hébert with growing respect as he organized the corn harvest into a rolling human machine that moved from one farm to the next. Toby headed to the fields every morning, and Al supervised the wagon train of Ezra and several other boys who hauled loads of corn to Brenham. A chill had swept through her body on that first day when she heard Al tell Hébert that this year he would bring up the rear of the wagons to keep a watch out for the Klan.
She winced at the sight of Al hobbling in well after dark, stiff and aching from the pounding of the wagon over roads dried into ruts. She wrapped his leg in towels cooled in well water to reduce the swelling. During the night, when he thrashed, she wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or from his worry about Toby. She pretended it was the pain and massaged his leg until he finally settled into restless sleep.
On the final day, the jangle of trace chains signaled the return of the wagons. Hébert had set up a table beneath the shade creeping across the front lawn of the big house. Except for the loose blouse and baggy work pants, he could have passed for any businessman, his head bent, tallying the final payments for each member of the co-op. The voices––a low buzz—drifted in the kitchen window. Colored men moved in tight little swarms to the barrel of well water and then to another barrel of chilled watermelons. The boys had followed Al like the Pied Piper until the melons appeared. Freed from days on the cramped wagons, they darted among the crowd sucking the sweet slices, ignoring juice dripping sticky streaks down their chins and along their arms. When each man received his share of the profits, he slapped a few shoulders, gathered his children, and turned toward home.
While Amelia got supper on the table, Toby applied cool towels to Al’s knee. “Let’s talk about what you’re going to do about this leg. My professors say your best bet is amputation. They think the tissue has grown around all that shrapnel, and we’ll never dig it out.”
“What do you say?”
Toby paced the kitchen, rubbed both hands over his nappy head in frustration. “I’m not a doctor yet. I’ve got a long way to go before I know anything.” Shoulders hunched, he stuffed his hands into his pant pockets. “I hate seeing you hurt every damn day.”
Al began drying his leg and scooted over to give Amelia a place beside him on the bench. “Tell you what. Since those doctors have never seen my leg, I’ll wait until you learn to operate. If you can’t dig out the metal, you can cut it off.”
“God, Pop, you’re a bullheaded man.”
Al grinned. “I may be stubborn, but I bet you can’t resist going with me to haul that loaded wagon to Independence in the morning. See some of your Baylor friends.”
Toby’s smile faded. “Yep, it feels like I’m testing the waters. See how my junior classmates react.”
“I expect you better gird your loins. You’re going to have a lot more days in the wilderness than the Israelites.”
Toby looked over the top of his ear of corn. “Don’t rub it in, Pop. Either stand by me or get out of my way.”
Amelia wanted to cry when Al nodded and whispered, “You know I’ll stand by you.”
That night Amelia lay her head on Al’s shoulder, nibbled at his ear. “You think it’ll take you two or three days to unload and take inventory?”
Al stroked her back, sliding his hands under her gown. “At this minute I only want to think about your body and how it feels.”
The next morning, Amelia had just finished cooking breakfast when Toby pulled the freight wagon into the yard behind the house. Dread settled in. She watched the two men, so much alike despite the difference in their size. But there was still an underlying tension. Al kept slipping into a mantle of sadness, and Toby kept making jokes, straining to lighten his father’s mood. She wondered if her Albert would have turned out so well? Would Dr. Stein have been a father to the boy? Would he have blamed the child for not being his? She felt Al’s hand on her shoulder.
“Are you all right, Amelia?”
Both men were looking at her. “Oh, yes. I just...just drifted off.”
Toby rushed to stow the basket of food she had packed while Al pulled her into his arms, kissed her ear. “We need to talk about what’s bothering you. I’ll get back fast as I can.”
She nodded, suddenly fearing she might cry. “I love you, Albert Waters.”
He touched her cheek, a quizzical look on his face. “That’s a first. You’ve never called me Albert.”
She shrugged. “I felt like saying it.”
“I like it.” He kissed her cheek and headed for the wagon.
The moon faded into the trees, chased by the sun, sending rays through the cottonwoods and dappling the road with morning light. Al couldn’t remember when he’d felt such a mass of contradicting emotions––absolute contentment with Amelia and absolute devastation over Toby’s choice for his life. He had to find a way to live with Toby’s decision, and he had to understand what caused Amelia’s look of melancholy. It felt as though she had gone to some dark place.
Toby stretched his long legs over the front of the buggy and leaned back. “I like her, Pop. I’m glad to see you happy.”
Al grinned. “Me too.”
“I hope to find someone that suits me so well.” Toby looked off into the woods, watched the road begin to rise toward the open prairie and the brightness of the early morning.
“It’ll be hard down here. If you say you’re colored, don’t expect to have a white wife.”
“What makes you think I want one?” Toby sat up straight and stared at Al. “You know what? You sound like most of the other white men around here. Assuming white is the best skin color. And it makes me sick to hear it from you.”
“And you sound like a damn fool. So far, you’ve been among friends. I don’t want you hurt by the likes of Packerman and his gang of perverts in sheets.”
“You notice they’ve not been back. I’ve been home for three weeks. And not a word.”
Al blew out his breath, tried to calm himself. “I hope you’re right.”
They rode in silence to the edge of Independence. Toby shouted to several young men walking along the road beside the Baylor campus. They yelled back that they’d be seeing him at the store. Al noticed that several almost broke their necks whipping around to take a second look. Toby appeared not to notice. Or, did he plan to ignore it?
Toby drove the wagon down the alley and backed it up to the door. When it didn’t open, he jumped to the ground and ran up the steps to the loading platform just as Elizabeth Barren pulled the doors open.
“Toby? That’s not you?” Her eyes bulged, and both hands flew to her mouth as she stared in disbelief.
Toby reached to hug her, but she held up both palms and backed away. “What have you done to yourself. You look like a nigger.”
Al scrambled to the ground, his fists gripping the edge of the wagon to assuage the pain shooting up his leg as he glared at the woman. “Elizabeth, you’re speaking to my son.” He heard his voice bellowing with fury.
Toby stood perfectly still, nodding his head, staring at the woman he had known all his life. He heard Al starting up the steps. He wanted to tell him to stay back, to let him handle it, but he could not form the words. He’d thought it wouldn’t matter to people who knew him. But, it mattered to Elizabeth.
She squeezed her eyes into little slits. “I do not want any part of this.” She whirled on her heels, disappeared into the store. He watched her scrambling out of her apron, almost ripping it loose from her pencil-shaped frame. He bent to give his father a hand up the last step and saw his face, ashen with pain and fury. Three women Toby did not recognize stood in confused silence, glancing first at him and Al and then out the front windows of the store at Elizabeth, fluttering like an erratic dragonfly down the street and around the corner.
“Hello, Mrs. Archer. I’ll help you in a minute.” Al’s voice rasped, his breath coming hard. “I’ve hurt my leg a little. Let me take a seat.”
The other two women gathered up their purchases and edged toward the counter. Toby helped Al into a chair and quickly wrote up the sales.
Mrs. Archer’s eyes examined Toby and then directed her comment to Al. “I don’t think I’ve ever met him. Who is he?”
Al lifted his head, his eyes hollow. “He’s my son, Mrs. Archer. His name is Tobias Waters.”
The muscles of her face worked, her nostrils flared. “Will he be working here?”
“No, Mrs. Archer. He’s a medical student at Harvard College in Boston.”
“I see.” She pushed her bolt of fabric and thread across the counter. “Will you put this on my account?”
“I’ll be happy to, Mrs. Archer,” Al said. “And would you ask your husband to come in when he has time. I’d like to hire a student to run the store. He’ll know who needs a job.”
“Oh, my... Well, yes. I’ll tell Doctor Archer at supper.” She stuffed thread in her shopping bag and clutched her new cloth to her bosom as she rushed out the front door.
“Is that Professor Archer’s wife?” Toby stared out the window after the woman hustling across the street.
“Yep. I figure Archer knows the students better than anyone. I’m not going to hire another old woman.”
“What about Miss Elizabeth? I think I need to talk to her, try to explain—”
“No, you don’t. I’m not taking her back.”
“I’ve caused you to lose someone who’s been here forever.”
“I’ve busted my butt to accommodate that old biddy. I need to find someone who isn’t so damned rigid.”
Two of the students they had seen on the road burst through the front door. “What the hell did you do to your hair?” One of the boys asked.
“I cut it short.” Toby looked down at the younger man, fully a head shorter.
“Are you trying to look like....” He shrugged. “A colored man?”
“I am colored, Nathaniel. It never showed because of my hair. Do you have a problem? I can still tutor you in math.”
The young man’s face blazed. He shuffled his feet, looked at his companion who had not moved from the front door. He shrugged again. “I’ll be getting on back to the dorm. I just stopped in to speak.”
“Thanks for coming by.” Toby reached to shake hands, but the boy turned and followed his companion out the door.
Toby watched the young men hurdle across the street and call out to three other guys down the walk. “Obviously, I need to change my approach.” He turned to look at his pop’s face, drawn and sagging with new marks of age.
“Don’t start holding your hat in your hands—bowing and scraping.” Al’s voice sounded choked—an old man’s whisper.
“I’ll unload the wagon. You wait on customers.” Toby called over his shoulder and disappeared into the rear of the store.
A steady stream of women bought everything from coffee to corsets. Obviously uncomfortable with not having Elizabeth to wait on them, they stuffed the personal items in shopping bags and mumbled the name without displaying it for Al to see. He tried to keep up an easy banter with every customer, something he’d never had trouble doing in the past. Now, everything had changed. His son stayed out of sight, hauling merchandise off the wagon, hanging his head like a hired hand, avoiding the front of the store. He must stop hounding the boy.
In late afternoon, the double front doors burst open, and Baylor’s President William Crane shoulder-to-shoulder with Professor Jacob Archer, marched in, their faces masked in tight smiles.
Toby strode forward, his hand extended. Al followed, his throat tightening. He heard Toby say, “I’m so glad to see you.” His voice sounded extra loud.
Al’s shoulders relaxed when Crane’s big paw reached out and grabbed Toby’s hand, then slapped the boy hard on the shoulder.
“We’re pleased to see you back.” Archer rose on his toes and clasped Toby into a bear hug. As Crane reached for Al’s hand, the big man’s eyes held a look of genuine sorrow.
Toby hung out the “closed” sign and set straight chairs together near the center of the room next to the cold wood stove. Al went to the back of the store to make a pot of fresh coffee, glad to have a moment to get his wits about him for what Toby was about to face.
All four men settled awkwardly in a tight circle.
“Well, Toby, tell us what’s going on?” Crane did not start with a lecture.
“After I discovered...” Toby glanced sideways at Al. “After I learned that I have Negro blood,” his lips almost formed a weak smile. “It opened my eyes. The truth is, I felt ashamed to cash in on being white when I’m not.”
A tidal wave of shock forced air from the room, leaving three fully grown men staring speechless at a boy set adrift.
“Ooh.” Crane’s big square face wrinkled, a man in physical pain, leaned forward at the hips, his jaw worked to force out words. “Toby, you carried more than your weight. You never cashed in on any privilege.”
“President Crane, being white is a privilege.” Toby’s brown eyes searched the strained face bent toward him.
Archer reached slowly, a man moving in a dream, and laid his hand on Toby’s shoulder. “He’s saying you earned your place, Toby. Nobody gave you anything.”
“Would you have let me enroll here if you’d known?”
The only sound came from the street, feet clumping along the wood walk, wagons loaded with corn creaking past, men laughing.
“Will you stay up north when you finish school?” Crane’s deep blue eyes that had always been so engaging looked faded, near tears.
“I plan to come back, open an office in Brenham.” Toby blew out a long breath. “It’ll probably be in Camptown. I’ll be needed there.” He grinned at Al. “First, I’m going to operate on Pop. Get that leg fixed if I can.”
They all laughed, loud and long—way too loud.
“I’ve got to get home to supper.” Jacob Archer dabbed at his eyes as though the laughter had been so good that it brought tears. “Gladys said you’re looking to hire someone for the store?”
“I need a young couple. I figured you knew of some students who might be looking. You know the kids better than anyone around here.”
“How about Emmett Pemberton?” Archer looked to the president for his reaction.
“Splendid.” Crane grinned. You remember him, Toby? He had big plans to enter the ministry. Then he met Ruby at the Volksfest in Brenham. Last week, they rode down to Frelsburg and had Father Schoellmann marry them. Ended his prospects with the Baptists, and I’m sorry to say with his parents as well.”
“Wasn’t Emmett the guy who was so religious?” Toby asked.
“Not anymore. Ruby has charmed the piety right out of him. His parents think Ruby’s leading him down the road to hell.” Jacob Archer couldn’t suppress a slight smile. “I think he likes the trip.”
Everyone laughed again.
“They’re both good kids,” Crane said. “Emmett came in yesterday looking for work. I didn’t have anything except getting the rose beds in good shape before classes start. He told me that Ruby cleaned rooms over at the Women’s College. They’ve spent the last two nights in Emmett’s wagon on Little Rocky Creek.”
“Why don’t we go down there? See if they’d be interested? They could use the apartment upstairs for a while.” Al stood, feeling his spirits lift.
Smoke rose in a thin line above the trees edging the creek. When their wagon topped the hill, a tiny girl turned, hands on her hips. Her hair matched the orange color of the flames licking the bottom of an iron pot suspended on a pole over a blazing fire. Emmett walked up from the creek swinging a bucket of water.
“Well, if it’s not Toby back from Yankee land.” Emmett smoothed at his slicked-back hair, oiled tight against his head. “Come have a seat. Ruby and I finished supper, but we’ll heat some coffee if you visit in our new home.”
“That’s why we’ve come.” Toby climbed off the wagon seat and extended his hand. “My pop needs some help in his store. Old man Crane and Prof Archer said you might be looking.”
Ruby left the water boiling in the black pot and moved up next to Emmett. “You mean that store on the square?”
“That’s the one.” Al climbed down from the wagon. “I need a man and a woman who can run the place. Seeing as you’ve got a wagon, I could use some hauling when merchandise comes in on the Brenham train.”
Ruby extended a tiny hand, clutching Al with a grip as firm as any man’s. “We’d be mighty obliged to give it a try, Mister Waters.” She turned to her husband. “Won’t we, Emmett?”
“Sure thing. We’ll be in there just as soon as you want us.” He looked at Ruby for her nod of agreement.
“How about loading up, coming in before it gets too dark? We can get you started learning about the place first thing in the morning. Figure how much salary you’ll need,” Al said.
Ruby turned, started snatching half-dry clothing off the side of the wagon. “We’ll be right along, Mister Waters.” She stopped and turned back. “Awful glad to see you, Toby.”
The sun formed a fiery ball melting into the distant hills, lighting the waving prairie grass to a golden hue. The mules started at a lively pace up the hill from the creek, and as they rounded a bend into the woods, Toby threw back his head and let out a wolf howl. “Miss Ruby’s swept that boy plumb off his feet.”
Al grinned. “Miss Ruby may be the one we’re hiring. Let’s put them in the apartment tonight. We can move a couple of feather mattresses into that little storeroom for you and me.”
They had barely finished rearranging boxes and thrown open the windows in the extra room when the Pemberton wagon rattled to a halt at the bottom of the back stairs. Toby helped carry their things, including a basket of vegetables that Ruby announced they had found in a garden on the edge of town.
“Would you like me to light some lamps, let you look around the store before we go to bed?” Al said as Emmett started up the stairs with a bucket of water.
“You bet we would,” Ruby called over the porch rail. “We’ll be right down.”
Emmett folded his hands together and eased between the aisles, his eyes calculating the inventory as they ran down the stacks of work shirts and along the rows of cans and barrels of coffee. Ruby bounced to every section of the store, her fingers trailing over the curve of a lamp and along the damask folds of a half-tester headboard. She skidded behind the partition that hid what Elizabeth had always called “the female department” and then peeked around the curtain. “This place is heavenly, isn’t it, Emmett?”
Emmett’s droopy eyes opened wide. “Oh, yes, Ruby. It is heavenly.”
Toby snorted, then turned away to cough.
“Why don’t we get some sleep and work out our agreement in the morning.” Al headed for the back door.
After Toby snuffed out the lamp, he lay down on his feather mattress next to Al’s. “I think they’ll be good for the store. Ol’ Emmett will pour over every decision, and Ruby will keep things moving along.”
Al grunted his agreement and had drifted to sleep when the gentle thumping started. He rolled over facing away from the wall and heard Toby snicker. “Go to sleep.”
“She’s wearing him out in there,” Toby whispered and then went into spasms of smothered giggling. “I didn’t know the walls were so thin up here.”
“Come on. It’s getting too rowdy. Let’s drag these mattresses out on the porch. It’ll be cooler out there.” Al realized they’d made the right decision for Tob to stay in the big house and not in his old bedroom across from him and Amelia.