The blue sky looks scrubbed. It stretches over rows
of trees and white houses, similar as stamps,
in the flat town that was planned for perfection.
Walking on shoveled walkways,
Edmonia notes who steps aside, who leans away.
Some boys wear linen jackets and girls silk dresses
to avoid cotton picked by slaves. Every day
students pray to be good. Silence casts a spell of equality:
No one should point to differences in color or
between students on scholarships and those who pay.
Don’t say anything to anyone. Act as if
nothing’s changed. Ruth walks close, but glances away.
Edmonia guesses she’s looking for her beau,
though Thomas is in the college program with classes
on another schedule. I should have stayed in our room.
None of us can afford to miss a class, Ruth says.
Ever since I heard that Senator Calhoun challenged
Northerners to show him a colored person
who could conjugate Greek verbs,
I swore I’d learn Greek and Latin
and one day teach those languages, too.
I’m not like you. Edmonia stops talking
as Seth, his light hair shining, strides toward her.
He says, I heard Helen and Christine are better.
But they won’t come back to school.
They’re taking their accusation to court.
This can’t come to trial just on the word of two foolish girls,
Ruth exclaims. Who I expect were drinking.
Albert brought a jug of apple wine, Seth says.
And maybe some sort of herb he got from the college boys.
You need to tell Christine’s father, Ruth says.
He’d cane her, Seth replies.
Edmonia spins around as a boy calls, Watch out
for the wild Indian. Don’t take a drink from her.
Ruth tugs Edmonia’s arm
to move her farther down the walkway.
The boy steps closer, calls toward their backs,
They’re plotting who to poison next.
Rage rolls down Edmonia’s chest and into her hands.
Don’t you dare say anything about Ruth.
You gave them an Indian potion. Murderer!
Edmonia flings a fist at the boy’s pale chin,
hurls herself upon him, pounding
his chest as he tries to shove her off.
Stop it! Harriet, Seth, Clara, and others circle them.
Edmonia punches and pants with unfinished fury
as she’s pulled to her feet.
Chapel bells clang for the start of classes.
She’s crazy! a boy shouts.
As everyone else hurries toward schoolrooms,
Ruth brushes snow and grit off Edmonia’s shawl.
Never mind what people say.
Edmonia pulls her shawl close. She can’t forget
every right or wrong name.