The Second Evening

Edmonia moves Ruth’s Bible, algebra book,

and Latin grammar from their desk. She leans

across it, watching the setting sun tangle in treetops,

darkness conceal the edge of the woods.

She sees Thomas bite an apple he hands to Ruth,

who tucks her chin to taste. She gives back the fruit,

her hands still curved as if to remember its shape.

Soon Ruth comes inside, drops her shawl,

opens a book, closes it, studies Edmonia.

There must be someone who can help.

Are your aunts still at Niagara Falls?

Do you know where your brother is?

Samuel said he’d write when he had money to send me.

Edmonia mailed a few letters, which were returned.

She supposes her brother moves from one riverbed or cliff

to another, but trusts he has her address and knows

she’d like word from him even if he can’t send money.

Could she run away and search for her father?

Wouldn’t he help? She doesn’t even know

what he looks like. After fleeing north through the woods,

he must have glanced over his shoulder when he heard

sudden noises. Probably every colored man in Canada

was afraid of being followed. She couldn’t approach

each one and ask, Did you leave behind a daughter?

Edmonia swallows hard. A beak seems to snap her throat,

a beast gnaws her belly. I can’t walk back in there.

Even people who don’t think I’m guilty want me to be.

You must be strong. Others have survived worse.

Don’t tell me about Hagar.

I wasn’t thinking about her.

Edmonia, if the worst happens,

you won’t be like Cleopatra, will you?

You mean choose poison instead of prison?

Edmonia’s face hardens. She did the noble thing.

She was wrong! And maybe we were, too,

not telling anyone about the brutes who attacked

you in the field. I hate that they’re still free.

Nothing happened. Edmonia must hold the line

between the past and present. It may be all she has.

I thought it was strange that no one at the school called

the sheriff, or reported the men. Maybe it was courtesy.

They wanted to help put it behind you. But if your lawyer

is concerned that no one will send their children

to a school where someone attempts murder,

I suppose they also worry that no one might

go to a school where a girl was attacked in a field.

I’m all right.

Edmonia, you can confide in someone.

What starts out seeming like weakness

can turn to strength.

Telling is like laying out cloth so anyone can see

thin or rough spots where she might have made

a different choice. Blame is always close.

Edmonia says, You know nothing about it.

Ruth opens her mouth, turns her eloquent back.

Her straight spine is parallel to a row of buttons

that she manages alone every time.