Chapter V
If you look very closely, you will see that there are two places where the bricks don’t quite match. Those and the long gash on the door were the results of the War Between the States.
The first there on the lower corner, see it? That one came from a direct cannon shot in the spring of 1863. Blew a rather big hole in the wall as you can tell. The other right at the front, took out the window and part of the framing in 1864. But it is the gouge on the door that is the most interesting. It is a reminder of Rysa and Magnolia.
I should probably give you a little bit of backstory before I go any farther. In 1853, I was converted into a bank. The back office became a vault, and marble flooring was laid on the ground floor. I never did understand what prompted the changes, but it wasn’t like I had a say in them either.
The bank did a good business until the war broke out. Then it became a stop on the Underground Railroad. That was when I learned their whole story.
************
Nolie walked slowly down the cobbled streets, her head bent lost in thought. It was the fall of 1860, and the countryside was rumbling with the rumors of war. She found the talk unsettling, and she made her way to the bank at the corner of Franklyn & Rhodes to visit her papa. The walk made her introspective, and she thought back over her life and what had brought her to the decision she’d come to that morning.
Cyrus Brighton was the president of the First National Bank and had guided it into prosperity in the years since its founding. He was well thought of in the community, and his plantation though not large was a thriving success. His house slaves were mostly devoted as he was not a hard master to serve.
One was particularly faithful. Rysa was a mulatto who’d been brought into the house as a youngster to be a companion to his newborn daughter. The eight-year-old stared at the new baby with wide hazel eyes not realizing the difference the little brown-eyed child would make in her life.
It was 1844 when Magnolia Brighton was born, the only child of Cyrus and Rebecca Brighton. They’d been married for twelve years when she made her appearance and never were two people so happy to welcome a baby into their home. Complications set in for Rebecca though, and before Nolie was two weeks old her mother passed into God’s arms leaving Cyrus to raise their baby girl alone.
Cyrus was distraught so his housekeeper slave who went by the name Twiggy took little Nolie in to Cyrus and laid her in his arms. He continued to look out the window though his arms tightened convulsively around the tiny bundle.
“Massa Cyrus? Massa Cy? Ah knows ya don’ wanna hears dis from me, sah, but Miz Nolie, she still needs ya, sah.”
He sat still so long that Twiggy wondered if he’d even heard her but finally his attention turned to the sleeping baby, then his eyes tracked to Twiggy. “I do not know anything about babies, Twiggy. What am I going to do without Rebecca?”
Twiggy couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down her face. “Massa Cy, if’n ya’d like sah, Ah’ll take care of de baby, sah. I knows of someones I kin git to hep wif her....”
Nolie started fussing, and Cyrus awkwardly patted her behind. “You do what you think is best for her, Twiggy. I leave her in your capable hands.”
Rysa became Nolie’s friend and companion, and they’d never questioned their right to be together. Rysa changed Nolie’s diapers, fed her and rocked her when she cried. As Nolie grew older, Rysa taught Nolie how to climb trees and fish and swim, and Nolie in turn taught Rysa how to read and write. Though Rysa was eight years older, the two girls grew up together, and Rysa was mostly able to put the fact of her slavery out of her mind.
On the eve of Nolie’s tenth birthday, Rysa’s slavery was brought home to them both in a very real way.
************
Rysa was accompanying Nolie downtown to see her father at the bank. It wasn’t something she particularly enjoyed because of the attention it got her. But Nolie wanted to see her father, and Rysa could not, would not allow the precocious child to walk into town alone.
When they arrived at the bank, Rysa was stopped at the door by the doorman who was unnecessarily rude and condescending. “Whaddya want here, Nigger? Yer kind don’t have business here.”
Nolie didn’t understand the man’s ugliness, but even as a child she knew she didn’t like his tone in addressing her friend. She stepped up in front of Rysa and pointed at the man, glaring up into his face. “You don’t talk to her like that, Mister. She is my friend!”
The man sneered at her and tried to push the child away from him. “Watch it....” was all he managed before finding his hand caught in a vice grip and blazing hazel eyes burning into him.
“Why do you not go tell...?”
“I’m gonna tell my papa on you, you bad man.”
“Problem, Mr. Fulton?” Cyrus Brighton’s quiet voice cut into the melee effectively silencing everyone. One of his tellers had heard the disturbance and fetched him from his office in time to hear Nolie’s youthful voice raised in anger.
“Yes, sir. This nigger was trying to get in the front door. We do not let her kind do business here.”
“I see. Perhaps you should know the facts before you start passing judgment, Mr. Fulton. Rysa is my daughter’s governess, and as such is allowed in with my daughter when she accompanies her to town. If that is going to be a problem for you, perhaps you should find other employment because I will not sacrifice Magnolia’s safety for your petty bigotry. Do I make myself clear?” he asked, not understanding how bigoted he himself sounded.
“Yes, sir. I did not realize....”
“Very well, Mr. Fulton. Don’t let it happen again.”
“Yes, sir,” the young man said grudgingly, just moving out of the way to allow Rysa to pass by him into the building.
That night Nolie went into Rysa’s room without knocking and for the first time noticed the scars on Rysa’s back. Rysa quickly pulled on her nightshirt when she heard Nolie’s gasp. “Rysa? What happened to your back?”
It was a little awkward between them now - Rysa was an adult while Nolie remained a child, and Rysa never lost sight of the fact that she was a slave though she managed to put the fact aside most of the time. She silently mourned this day... knowing it would put a gulf between them that they would never be able to bridge.
She sat down on her bed and Nolie crawled up beside her. Trusting brown eyes looked into hazel and asked again. “Rysa?”
Rysa looked down into Nolie’s eyes, then shrugged as if it were of no great consequence. “I’m a slave, Nolie,” she answered quietly. “I was taken from the fields as a child and brought in to be a companion to you. It’s something I’ve always been thankful for - at first because it got me out of the fields. But later it was because we became friends. I never expected that. But I am still a slave.”
Rysa stopped talking as though afraid to reveal too much, and Nolie sat quietly pondering her words. Finally Nolie looked up into Rysa’s eyes. “I don’t care. You are my best friend, and nothin’ is goin’ to change that.” She jutted out her chin diffidently. “I won’t let it.”
Rysa brushed a light kiss over the child’s light brown hair, and they sat quietly for a time after that. Rysa began to think Nolie had fallen asleep she was silent so long, then her young friend spoke again.
“Rysa? Who hit you? Who left the marks on your back?”
“It does not matter, Nolie. It was a long time ago.”
“It matters to me, Ry. Please tell me.”
Rysa sighed, wondering how they’d gotten into this bizarre conversation of times and events she tried very hard not to remember. “It was Master Wilkes.”
“Wilkes? The plantation foreman?” Nolie’s childish brow knotted in thought. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like him. He is just mean.” Nolie scrambled from the bed and headed towards the door. “I’ll ask Papa to fire him.”
Rysa rushed from the bed to stand in front of the door. “No! You cannot do that, Nolie, please.” She knelt down to be at eye level and went on quickly when the small face scrunched in confusion. “Please... it will only make things worse if you do.”
Nolie stared into the hazel eyes she had trusted since birth and saw truth and terror and sorrow. She nodded her head slowly. “Okay, Rysa. But I am not lettin’ the fact that you are a slave change things between us. You are still my best friend and always will be.” She clasped her arms around Rysa’s neck and kissed her smooth cheek goodnight. “Maybe if I ask Papa to free you....” she mumbled mostly to herself not seeing the eyes behind her widen in alarm. She slipped out of the room closing the door behind her, then just as suddenly reopened it and stuck her head in.
“Good night, Ry.”
“Good night, Nolie,” Rysa whispered, still overwhelmed by what had just happened.
************
Nolie shook her head remembering that day six years prior as she walked up the short steps to the bank. She had been so young and so naïve, but she hadn’t let it change their friendship. Even when her father refused to free Rysa and she’d been angry with him for weeks, her friendship with Rysa had remained steady.
“Good mornin’, Charles,” she said politely to the doorman. Fulton had left shortly after the incident with Rysa, and Nolie for one was glad to see him go. His rudeness to her friend had marked him as unacceptable in her child’s mind, and she’d never gotten past it. Now that she stood on the cusp of adulthood, she was even more adamant in her feelings and was coming to break the news to her father before he could send out invitations to her cotillion.
She stepped through the portal, nodding to the men who though busy with work took the time to greet her. She walked to the back area where Cyrus maintained his office and waited for his assistant to announce her. Then she crossed the threshold and closed the door softly behind her.
Her father rose from behind the desk and came around to meet her, arms extended for a hug. When the embrace ended, Cyrus stepped back with a smile and motioned her to a seat. “Nolie, what a nice surprise! Are you so excited about your coming out party that you came down to make sure I sent the invitations out today?” He gestured to the stack of thick, cream colored envelopes on his desk and grinned. “I was just finishing up the last of them. General is supposed to pick them up and deliver them round this afternoon.”
“Well, it is partly true, Papa,” Nolie said softly, taking a deep breath before looking up into his eyes. “I don’t want a party, Papa. Ry cannot come, and I will not have one without her.”
Cyrus looked at his daughter in consternation. “Nolie, this has been the talk of the town for weeks. Why are you deciding this now? Folks expect this.”
“Well, folks will just have to lower their expectations. I will not have a party if Rysa cannot come, and I will not have her be shunned because of her skin color if she was to come. There is no way to win so I will simply not have a party.”
“And if I go ahead and give you one? There are a number of eligible young men who have been looking forward to this, Nolie. Rysa is just a slave. Is it fair not to give them the opportunity t...?” Cyrus didn’t finish, stopped by the fire in her almost black eyes.
“If you go ahead with the cotillion, Papa, I won’t be there. You will have it without me.”
He looked at her in silence, the stubborn set of her jaw reminding him so much of her mother it almost hurt to see it. “You’re serious.”
“Yes, I am,” she answered quietly but with conviction. Her glance never wavered, and in that moment Cyrus Brighton had never been more proud of his willful, determined daughter. He sighed audibly though. She was making a statement he wasn’t sure he wanted the world to know about in these turbulent times. Cyrus was considered a fair and just man, but he still owned slaves and honestly saw no problem with it. He wasn’t a cruel master and could not understand his daughter’s attitude.
“I am not going to convince you otherwise, am I?”
“No sir, and I do not want you to take this out on Rysa. She knows nothin’ about this; it is completely my decision.” Cyrus had the grace to blush at Magnolia’s intuition. He had been thinking exactly that, wondering in the back of his mind if Rysa had somehow influenced Nolie’s decision. “Promise me, Papa. Promise me you will not take this out on Rysa.”
He looked at her sheepishly. “You have your mother’s strength of will, Nolie. I promise I will do nothing to Rysa for your decision. But you are going to have to explain to the neighbors. They have been waiting for this occasion... some of them for years.”
She rose from the chair. “It is my choice, Papa and not their business. Thank you for allowin’ me to choose.”
“I have never denied you much of anything, Daughter, and if you do not want a cotillion I certainly will not make you suffer through one.” He stroked her cheek gently. “You have such a tender heart. I hope you do not get hurt by this.”
“I won’t, Papa. Rysa means more to me than our gossipy neighbors,” she assured him blithely. But she had no idea of the things that were to come.
************
Now you have to understand that the War Between the States was probably the most horrific event I have ever been exposed to including the ugliness I later endured. Brother turned against brother and for what? Greed, mostly. It was one of the few times I was grateful not to understand humans.
I do know from listening to and watching everything around me that it started out because of economics, and it ended up being about so much more. The Emancipation Proclamation really did not accomplish much except to anger Southerners a little more. Those who were against slavery were already making strides to make things better. The Underground Railroad was a reality, and more and more slaves were leaving the fields and slavery of the South for a supposedly better life in the North. Some of them found better but most got a rude awakening instead.
However, what happened to most doesn’t concern me as I was not witness to their stories. Perhaps I should let you see a little more about Rysa and Nolie first. Then you will understand more the breaking they felt when the time came.
************
Rysa noticed that fewer and fewer of Nolie’s friends came around when Nolie refused to have a cotillion, and she did her best to step away from the younger woman and let her become the belle her father wanted her to be. Nolie was having none of it however, and continued to cling to her friendship with Rysa. She didn’t flaunt their friendship, but she did nothing to hide it.
Eventually their attention turned towards the ever-increasing threat of war, and they lost interest in scorning Nolie for choosing a slave’s company over their own. Instead they became more and more adamant in the vocal outcries for war and stopped by frequently to talk about why war was becoming more necessary and how it would change the country for the better and....
Nolie got sick and tired of hearing the incessant chatter and took to escaping out the back with Rysa when she heard General headed her way. They had worked out a signal, and when General cleared his throat upon receiving callers Nolie grabbed Rysa by the hand and ran out into the gardens so as to be unavailable.
The first time it happened, Rysa was stunned. She sat in the gazebo catching her breath and looking at Nolie. Finally she opened her mouth and spoke quietly. “Do you want to explain to me why two grown women just went flying out of the house as though the hounds of hell and damnation itself were giving chase, especially when you have company?” Her tone wasn’t accusing but merely curious. She’d long ago given up trying to understand Nolie; Rysa simply loved her and accepted Nolie as she was.
Nolie stretched out along the length of the bench where Rysa sat, laying her head in the older woman’s lap and enjoying her rather unladylike position. It reminded her a lot of the many times they’d sat here just like this during her growing up years, and for a moment she wished she could reclaim that time and go back to when things were so much simpler.
She closed her eyes and sighed when she felt Rysa’s long fingers gently begin to comb through her hair. “I am tired of the singular focus of their conversation, Ry, and I know it gets to you. They are deliberately nettlin’ you, and I do not like it. So General and I have worked out a signal, and when they stop by I am conveniently not in to receive them.”
Rysa sat silently absorbing the information Nolie had just imparted, gently massaging through the light brown hair and marveling at its softness. She felt Nolie unwind and smiled. Always since Nolie had been a small child, this had been one of the best ways to calm and relax the small whirlwind the young woman had been. Rysa smirked to herself - and obviously still was. She sat a while longer in noiseless contemplation.
“Nolie?” Rysa said softly, finally. She did not want to disturb the younger woman if Nolie was asleep. One brown eye peeked up at her.
“Hmm?” came the drowsy answer.
“Why?”
“Hmm?” came the sleepy response again. “Why what, Ry?”
“Nothin’... never mind.” Rysa’s shoulder’s dropped. Both of Nolie’s eyes popped open at the dropped ‘g’. Since learning to read, Rysa had always taken great care with her language, and Nolie could count on her hands the number of times she had let her speech slide. It always coincided with upset or distress, and Nolie wondered what had happened. She turned her head to look directly at Rysa and caught the tears glistening on the smooth skin.
Nolie reached a hand up and gently removed the traces of wetness. “This is not nothin’, Ry. What’s wrong?” It was times like this that Nolie was reminded of Rysa’s fragility, and she felt the more grown up of the two of them.
Rysa clasped the fingers on her face and kissed the tips lightly before smiling through watery eyes. “You have always put me... put our friendship before everything, no matter the cost to yourself. I just sometimes wonder why. How can the life and friendship of a slave be worth so much?”
Nolie sat up so fast she nearly caught Rysa in the chin with her head. She grabbed Rysa’s face firmly between her hands, making sure the hazel eyes were focused on her completely before she continued. “I know that it has been very hard for you, especially lately with all the rude and snide comments. But I only want to have to explain this to you once, and I want you to understand and accept that I mean every word that I say.”
Rysa’s eyes searched Nolie’s and she nodded. Nolie looked back at her intently. “You were a child, and yet you raised me and taught me. You gave me everythin’ you had Rysa, even when you had nothin’ left to give. Now as a slave, I am sure you did what was expected of you. But you went beyond that. More than that, more than anythin’, you loved me. You loved me and cared for me and that wasn’t expected.”
Nolie took a deep breath. “So even if I did not love you and even if you were not my very best friend, I would still look out for you, Rysa. But the fact is I do love you and you are my very best friend in the whole world. And friends, especially best friends, stick together... no matter what.”
Rysa didn’t answer but laid her head on Nolie’s shoulder and wept tears of joy and sorrow and relief. In all her years, though she’d known Twiggy and General cared for her and Master Cyrus liked her well enough, not once had anyone aside from Nolie ever expressed love for her and never had Nolie put it so succinctly.
Nolie just held onto her and let her cry.
************
Things changed subtly for them after that. I know this because they made a few more trips into town. Up to that point except for the bits I was actually witness to, most of their story that I knew came from their reminiscing together here on the last night they had together before Rysa left for parts unknown. But we’ll get to that shortly.
Two separate events before that night stand out clearly for me because unlike most of this story, which I got second hand after the fact, both of these occurrences happened within these walls. The first was just days before the war began.
************
After their conversation in the gazebo, things seemed to calm down for a while. Winter settled into the land and Rysa and Nolie fell into a normal winter routine. At sixteen, Nolie was considered a grown woman now so days were spent quietly and the evenings were even more so. Cyrus had tried, subtly for him, to encourage Nolie to dismiss Rysa from her service. He argued that now that she was grown up she no longer needed a governess. She agreed and immediately made Rysa her companion. Cyrus gave in quietly, knowing in his heart that he could never separate them unless Nolie willed it so.
Though she cherished the time she and Rysa got to spend together, never was anyone so happy to see spring come as Nolie was. She was looking forward to getting out and seeing sun and green grass. The first nice day she cajoled Rysa into a buggy ride, and they headed out into the still cool, muddy world to visit Cyrus at the bank.
The ride in was nice, relatively speaking, and both women were glad to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. The buggy slowed as they reached town as most of the countryside seemed to have the same desire to get out.
Just as they came to the intersection of Franklyn & Rhodes, there was a horrendous crash and Nolie felt the carriage go flying as a heavy weight plowed into the side of it. She remembered Rysa’s body covering her own protectively before her head slammed into the floor and everything went mercifully black.
When she came to, Nolie moaned and lifted her free hand to her throbbing head. She blinked her eyes opened, then slammed them shut again as pain lanced through her head at the brightness she encountered. “Ouch,” she whimpered.
“Magnolia? Sweetheart, are you all right?”
“Papa? Papa, where is Rysa? And why does my head hurt?”
Cyrus knelt right next to the couch and cupped his hands around Nolie’s face. “Nolie, can you open your eyes for me?” He waited as she blinked them open furiously, tears sliding down her face. “Good girl. Now what’s the last thing you remember?”
Nolie was confused. “Papa, where’s Rysa??” She focused on that solitary thought. She clutched at his coat. “Papa, you’re scarin’ me. Where is she, Papa??”
“Magnolia, Nolie... listen to me, Honey. I want you to focus on the sound of my voice.” Nolie tried to nod but groaned at the motion instead. Her eyes closed again reflexively. “That’s good, Sweetheart. Just lie still and tell me the last thing you remember.”
She licked dry lips, forcing herself to think back. “Uh, we were comin’ into town to um... we were comin’ to see you. I... I... we slowed down, and....” Nolie started shaking. “Papa, where is Rysa?”
Cyrus glanced at his desk where the woman was laid out as the doctor worked feverishly to staunch her bleeding. The doctor who something of a white supremacist had been somewhat surprised at Cyrus’ vehemence that the mulatto be treated first, especially knowing Cyrus’ own leanings. But he did so knowing that the woman had saved Nolie’s life and that she had practically raised the younger woman. For Nolie’s sake, they both hoped Rysa survived.
“Nolie, when the accident happened, Rysa moved to cover you, to protect you like she has always done. She got somewhat injured in the process and Dr. Smithers is working on her now. We need you to lie here quietly until he gets done and can take a look at you, all right?”
Nolie blinked her eyes opened again slowly, peering into her father’s face with an intensity he found disturbing. She processed what he’d said and clutched his coat again. “Don’t let her die, Papa,” was all she said before closing her eyes and drifting off.
It was sometime later when Nolie opened her eyes again, wincing at the pain in her head and lifting a hand to find a bandage in place. She blinked, wondering if her sight had been affected or if she’d simply slept the day away. She sat up slowly, noting her father sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace talking quietly to the doctor. Both men turned to look at her at the noise she made.
Nolie had caught sight of the body stretched out on Cyrus’ desk and muffled a small cry of distress. She rose on shaky legs and walked slowly towards it. Cyrus stood and rapidly headed for her. He intercepted her in two steps and took her firmly by the elbow.
“Magnolia? Look at me, Daughter.” Cyrus waited until her had her full attention. “Rysa is resting, Sweetheart.”
Brown eyes filled with tears stared into his own, making his heart break at the pain he saw in them. “She’s not dead?” came the whispered question. Cyrus looked up at the doctor who’d come up on Nolie’s other side.
“No, Miss Magnolia. Your friend is not dead. But she is going to need rest and quiet for the next little while.”
Nolie moved her head around slowly to meet the doctor’s eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Smithers. When can we take her home?”
“I would like to keep her here overnight, but when she wakes up she should be able to travel the short distance home as long as you go very slowly and carefully.” At that moment a soft groan came from the desk and Nolie swiveled toward the sound, clutching her head at the pain the sudden movement caused. “Easy, Miss Magnolia,” the doctor advised. “You still have quite a big bump on your noggin.”
Nolie nodded slowly, then resumed her slow walk towards her father’s desk. Cyrus stayed at her side, a hand steadying her at the elbow. Then he seated her in his large leather chair and stepped away. Nolie slowly reached up and clasped Rysa’s hand in her own. Their conversation was too low to be heard, but the two men watched their interaction for a long moment before turning back to the fire.
“Thank you, George,” Cyrus said softly. “I know it was a lot to ask of you.”
The doctor shrugged. “I did it for Magnolia, Cyrus. The nigger is the only mama she’s ever had, and whatever else you can or cannot say about the woman, she did a damn fine job raising her. I could not ask Magnolia to lose more, especially when that nigger risked her life to make sure your little girl was safe.” He looked directly into Cyrus’ eyes. “Magnolia would have been killed.”
Cyrus swallowed hard and nodded. “I know. I saw the wreckage right after it happened. We were very lucky.”
They both turned to look at the two women, and despite themselves found the tableau before them touching. Nolie’s head rested on Rysa’s hip, and their hands were tangled together. The look of peace on both faces caused an unexpected smile to form on both men’s faces.
“You really think she will be all right?” Cyrus asked softly referring to Rysa.
“I do not think Magnolia will permit anything less.” Then they turned their attention back to contemplating the fire, and the silence of the night kept them company.
************
Rysa did make a slow recovery under Nolie’s watchful eye, and in the meantime, war broke out and split the Union and everything changed.
It was a very dark period in history, but nothing compared to the darkness I saw Nolie fall into, and all because of hatred and greed. It’s a story that bears telling though - just so humans never lose sight of the heights and depths that mankind is capable of.
Chapter VI
The winter of 1863 had been a very hard time for everyone, but especially Nolie who came down with a bout of coughing sickness so bad Twiggy and Rysa stayed by her side for three days fending off fever and chills. Twice they feared they’d lost her, but she fought back with a tenacity that brought happy tears to everyone in the house. It was the same fighting spirit that led to the confrontation in the spring the following year.
By the early part of 1864, the country was weary of war, but especially in the South where the way of life had been destroyed. Many slaves had run off when President Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation and the fields had been left to fallow.
For her part Nolie considered herself very lucky. She had lost a majority of her field hands, but she still had the household slaves and a few of the outdoor ones. She had tried to encourage them to leave, but following Cyrus’ premature death they had decided to stay with Nolie. She had promptly turned around and freed those that stayed.
Nolie had learned a lot since war had broken out and even more since Cyrus had died. She had learned about washing, gardening, cooking, cleaning and just scraping along to get by. She had learned about loyalty and true friendship. She had seen the ugly business war was, and what it did to men whom she’d always considered upstanding gentlemen in the community. Nolie felt tired to her very soul.
Rysa had watched with pride as Nolie grew and matured through the trials that the war had brought to her door. The household had become her family and friends and together they had survived.
Soldiers, both blue and gray, had preyed upon the house and its occupants. Nolie had hidden as many of the valuables as she could, but she couldn’t hide herself or Rysa and advances were made that made them both furious. Rysa had come into her own and had no problem standing up to those who wanted to take advantage of her for whatever reason. But there came a time when it caused Rysa and Nolie to separate from necessity.
************
The morning was warm and the sounds of the war were distant though there were still troops wandering through the area. Nolie was out back, hanging the washing on the line when she heard Rysa’s raised voice.
“NO!! Take your hands off of me!!” There was a male roar, then a female scream and then silence. Nolie dropped the laundry in her hands, gathered her skirts and took off at a run around the house. What she saw caused a red wash to flood her senses and time slowed as she allowed the fury to take over.
Rysa lay on the ground unconscious, bleeding from her nose and mouth. Her dress was ripped and torn, and all Nolie saw were two figures grabbing and mauling Rysa’s body beneath them with dirty, anxious hands. Nolie let out a guttural growl and ran towards them. The men were so involved with their assault that they didn’t hear her approach or see the murderous intent in her eyes until it was too late.
Nolie snatched up the bayonet that lay to one side, having been cast aside by one of men in his haste to violate Rysa. Without hesitation she rammed it into his back, feeling the warm blood coat her hands and arms as it spewed forth from his body. His compatriot didn’t even have time to stand before Nolie yanked the blade from the fallen man’s body and swung the weapon around in club fashion. The contact with the back of his skull sent shockwaves up her arms, but she swung twice more before he crumpled.
With a sob she dropped the gun and cradled Rysa’s upper body in her arms, jerking her out from under the two fallen soldiers. How long they lay tangled together Nolie couldn’t have said. But when her tears stopped flowing and allowed her to see, she noticed Twiggy and General kneeling beside them.
“Miz Nolie? Ya bein’ a’ right ma’am? Kin we’uns hep ya and Miz Rysa inside?” Twiggy eased her arms around Nolie’s small frame. “C’mon now, Miz Nolie,” she coaxed when Nolie’s arms tightened around Rysa’s still form. “Gen’r’l take Miz Rysa, an’ he’ll be real easy. C’mon, Miz Nolie... ya gots ta let us hep ya now.”
Twiggy continued to talk and coax until Nolie finally let loose of Rysa and General could lift her into his arms. There was a twin groan as he straightened and Rysa was shifted. Twiggy kept a firm hold on Nolie until they could get into the house.
General headed for the small spare bedroom just behind the kitchen, not wanting to take the chance of dropping Rysa on the stairs. He placed her gently on the bed and moved back outside to dispose of the bodies before they brought down more problems then they could handle.
Nolie knelt down by the bedside and took one of Rysa’s hands in her own. “Don’t you die on me, Rysa! Don’t you dare leave me like this, you hear me?? You fight this!”
Twiggy put a bowl of warmed water down beside her and put a cloth into Nolie’s hands. “Here, chile, ya needs ta clean her up... lessen ya wants me to do it.”
Nolie shook her head slowly. “I’ll do it, Twiggy. Will you please fetch a nightgown for her? She needs somethin’ more than this,” indicating the torn dress.
“Yes’m. Ah’ll brings sumpin’ fo’ ya too.”
Nolie started to protest, then caught sight of the blood all over herself. “Thank you, Twiggy. I appreciate that.”
She wet the rag and winced as the red slid off her hands. Nolie put that fact and the reason for it out of her mind and concentrated her energies on Rysa. She spoke softly as she wiped blood and dirt off Rysa’s face. Several times Nolie had to bite her lip to keep from crying. The bruises across Rysa’s upper body were already becoming a lurid shade of purple and Nolie winced to touch them. Nolie moved the hair off Rysa’s forehead and brushed her lips across it. Then she put her head down on the bed and cried.
There was the slightest touch on her head and it just made the tears flow faster. Then Twiggy was reaching for her hands and pulling Nolie to her feet. “C’mon, Miz Nolie. Let Twiggy gets ya cleaned up so’s we kin get Miz Rysa dressed.”
Nolie nodded slightly and rose to her feet unsteadily. She stood passively while Twiggy wiped the blood from her hands, arms and neck. “Lif’ ya ahms, chile, so’s Ah kin get dis dress off’n ya an’ git ya into sumpin’ clean.”
Nolie shivered when the clean linen slid over her skin and she sighed in sheer reaction. “Thank you, Twiggy.”
“Pawsh,” the slave answered. “Ain’t nuthin’ we’uns roun’ here wouldn’ do fo’ ya, Miz Nolie. Ya’s always been one ta look out fo’ us real good.” She brushed the light brown hair out of Nolie’s eyes. “Now, c’mon an’ hep Twiggy git Miz Rysa into her nightie.”
Nolie straightened then and moved back to the bedside. “What do you need me to do, Twiggy?”
“Ya set right dere behin’ her and lif her up real gen’le like. Let her res’ on ya. Twiggy’ll do the res’.”
Nolie slipped into the bed and eased herself behind her injured friend, tenderly lifting her and cradling Rysa’s bruised and battered face and torso in her arms. She helped Twiggy ease the torn and ripped clothing away from Rysa’s body, startled at the low moan and tight grip she found her wrist suddenly wrapped in.
Nolie looked down, pleasantly surprised to see hazel eyes looking back at her. They were pain-filled and slightly glazed over, and she brushed a light kiss over the now clean forehead. Rysa tried to smile, but the movement of her swollen lips caused another groan to emerge from her throat.
“Shh... easy. Just rest easy, Rysa. Twiggy and I will take care of you. Close your eyes now.”
Rysa gave the smallest nod and obeyed the command. Twiggy finished dressing her and moved to put a hand on Nolie’s shoulder. “Miz Nolie? Why don’ ya close ya eyes too? Ya need to res’ and Ah’ll wake ya up in a bit. Ah needs ta go fix sum broth fo’ de bof ob ya. C’mon now,” she coaxed softly, watching as Nolie’s eyelids fluttered and finally closed.
Twiggy stood in the doorway for a long moment and shook her head. “Sumpin’s gonna haf ta be done,” she muttered to herself, then turned her steps to the kitchen.
************
Day turned into night before either body stirred from sleep. Nolie blinked open brown eyes at a muffled moan from Rysa. Twiggy appeared at the door at the identical moment as though she had been waiting there for them to awaken, which of course she had.
“Miz Nolie? I’se gonna bring ya’ll some suppah. Kin ya hep me move Miz Rysa so’s ya’ll kin eat a bite?”
Nolie’s stomach rebelled at the thought of having food put in it, but she knew Rysa would need something to help her get better. Before she could move though, Rysa mumbled, “Help me up, Nolie. I think I can manage with help.”
Nolie slid out from behind Rysa, gently propping her up and waiting beside the bed until Rysa swung her legs over the side and slowly stood. “Are you doing all right, Ry?”
“Mostly. My face and my head hurt and my chest is a little sore.”
“Hmm,” Nolie acknowledged. She was could only imagine how Rysa hurt given the lurid bruises she sported. “Let’s see what Twiggy fixed us for supper. Bet it’s somethin’ good.”
Twiggy chuckled softly as she stepped into the room, subtly guiding Rysa to the table. “Ya jus’ be bettin’ right, Miz Nolie. I done fixed chi’k’n ‘n’ dumplin’s fo ya bof. I ‘spect ya bof to sit up to table an’ eat now.”
Rysa tried to smile though with her swollen face it was more of a grimace. “Thank you, Twiggy. My mouth and my stomach appreciate that.” Rysa did a credible job eating a decent portion of what was on her plate, but Nolie pushed her food around until Twiggy took away from her with a snort of disgust. Rysa rose and patted the elderly woman’s hand. “Thank you Twiggy. It was very good.”
“Leas’wise yo’d know, Miz Rysa, unlike sum pussons in dis house,” with a glance in Nolie’s direction. Nolie didn’t answer but simply turned on her heel and walked out the door not even minding the fact that she was in a robe and nightgown. Rysa’s eyes followed her in concern, then tracked back to Twiggy.
“What happened to upset, Miss Nolie, Twiggy?”
“I ‘spect yo’d bes’ be askin’ her ‘bout that, Miz Rysa. But give de chile a chance to think a while. She’s done had a hard day. Now why don’ yo’ let Twiggy draw yo’ a warm baf? It’ll make yo’ hurt less.”
Rysa’s eyes followed the small figure pacing through the neglected gardens, and her heart ached at the defeated attitude so painfully apparent in the slumped shoulders and drooping head. She took a step towards the screen door before Twiggy latched onto her arm in a gentle but firm grip.
“C’mon, Miz Rysa. Yo’ gif Miz Nolie sum time. She’ll be comin’ to fin’ yo’ ‘fore too long. Gen’r’l keep a eye on her meantime. C’mon now.”
Rysa allowed herself to be gently led upstairs, then she was left to undress and climb into the warm water. She restrained a groan but sank back into the warmth with a tiniest sigh of relief. She didn’t allow herself the luxury of too a long soak. She was still concerned over whatever was troubling Nolie.
She heard the sound of soft footfalls come up the stairs, then a door closing down the hall. Rysa eased from the tub, shaking her head at her bruised reflection. She dressed slowly, then eased into the hall and walked to stand in front of Nolie’s door.
She raised her hand to knock, then hesitated until she heard the soft sound of sobbing emanating from inside. Rysa opened the door and crossed to Nolie’s bedside, sitting down next to the younger woman who was curled into a tiny ball. Nolie reached a hand out and tugged gently, forcing Rysa to lie down beside her. Rysa wrapped her arms around Nolie and simply held her until the tears passed.
“You ready to talk now?” Rysa asked softly when Nolie’s crying had finally abated. She was quiet so long Rysa checked to see if Nolie had fallen asleep. She smiled into the sleepy brown eyes that gazed back at her, concerned when she didn’t get an answering one in return. “Nolie?”
Nolie sat up and wiped her eyes, accepting the cool, wet rag that Rysa had gotten and now offered her. She looked at Rysa a long moment before smiling sadly, her eyes lingering on the bruises that marred her face. “I think the time has come, Ry,” Nolie said softly.
Rysa frowned, wincing in reaction to the pain that motion caused her. “What time has come, Nolie?” asked in honest confusion. “What are you referring to?”
“The Underground Railroad, Rysa. I think it is time for you to use it.”
“You are sendin’ me away, Nolie?”
“No, Rysa. No! I just think the time has come for you to decide to leave. It’s gettin’ too dangerous around here for you to stay.”
Rysa got off the bed and walked to the window, turning her back towards Nolie. “What makes me so special, Nolie? Why are you not sending Twiggy, General... anyone else, everyone else away as well?” Hurt confusion and not a little anger were clearly apparent in her voice.
Nolie twisted the rag in her hands in sheer frustration, not wanting to go into specifics. She could still feel the warmth of the soldiers’ blood as it sprayed over her and the images continued to make her stomach roil. The silence made Rysa’s temper flare and she stalked back to the bed, reaching out and forcing Nolie’s eyes to meet her own. “Why, Nolie? WHY??”
Now Nolie’s own temper flared and she jerked her chin away from Rysa’s touch. She stood, forcing Rysa to back up. She poked a finger into Rysa’s chest, forcing the older woman to continue to step back. “Because I care about you. Because I cannot stand to have what happened to you today continue to happen. Because I killed two men today, and I don’t know if I can do that again!!!”
Rysa’s mouth dropped as Nolie’s words penetrated her consciousness. For her part, Nolie rushed for the washbasin as the implications of what she had said washed over her. Rysa moved to comfort her, holding Nolie up as she retched.
When Nolie was down to shivering and shaking in reaction, Rysa carried Nolie the short distance to the bed, then snatched a blanket from the end and covered her. She moved and re-wet the cloth Nolie had dropped on the bed and gently cleaned Nolie up. Nolie fell asleep and Rysa got up and cleaned up the water bowl, then moved a chair to the window and sat down to stare out into the darkness.
Sometime in the darkest part of the night, Nolie cried out and Rysa crawled into bed next to her until the younger woman settled back into a deep sleep. Near daybreak Rysa came to a decision and waited for Nolie to awaken.
************
They came in together that afternoon and sat reliving the memories I’ve told you about until sometime very late. I don’t know the exact time... just that it was quite a while after darkness fell. Then I became witness to the final scene between them.
************
In the darkest part of the night, a bare touch on Rysa’s arm awakened her and Nolie from the light doze they had drifted into. An older man stood in front of them, cap held in his gloved hands. He gestured for silence and motioned for Rysa to follow him. With a look she asked him to give them a minute of privacy, and he nodded and moved to wait by the door.
Nolie and Rysa stood together and embraced in silence for a long moment. Then Nolie stepped back a pace and looked into Rysa’s face, memorizing what she knew she would never see again. She took a deep breath and spoke so softly, Rysa had to strain to hear the words.
“I am not sure what I’m goin’ to do without you, Rysa. You’ve been my devoted friend and confidant since I was born.” Nolie’s voice shook slightly and she swallowed hard. “You will always have a place in my heart, but I want you to go and find better than what you can have here now. I....” She turned away to keep Rysa from seeing the tears spill down her face.
Rysa’s hands clenched and she stepped up behind Nolie. “I will never find better than what you’ve given me here, Nolie, and I will come home again.” She brushed a light kiss across the top of the brown hair and stepped away. Nolie caught Rysa’s hand and kissed her knuckles, then pressed her cheek against them before gently pushing Rysa towards the door.
“Go with God, my friend.” Then she watched until Rysa disappeared into the night.
Nolie sat until dawn began breaking over the horizon absorbing the sudden loneliness in her heart before she turned to make her way out the door silently... only to run into another obstacle before she was outside.
She felt the breeze go by her head as the blade plunged into the wood. Her eyes widened as the man towered over her and reached a hand toward her throat. Nolie pushed him away and stomped on his foot. He growled at her and lunged to find himself stopped by an unexpected barrier.
“I believe that you’d best look elsewhere for your entertainment. Miss Nolie is not nor never has been available to the likes of you. Now leave before I give you the thrashin’ you so richly deserve.”
Nolie looked up in surprise as Mr. Fulton seemed to grow larger as he defended her. She still remembered him harshly from her childhood and the day he was hateful to Rysa. It was odd to see him represented so differently after all this time. Then her attention turned back to the soldier who tried to reach around Fulton to find his hand caught and twisted at a painful angle.
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear.” Fulton twisted harder until the man’s legs crumpled under him. Then he shoved the soldier back and watched impassively as he fell onto his back.
“That was a stupid thing to do, old man. Two of my buddies disappeared after visiting that bitch and her nigger friend two days ago. And I saw them sneaking ‘round last night... figure she sent that nigger out of here. I’ll have my revenge one way or t’other.”
“Well, going by your behavior, I’d say they got what was coming to them if they didn’t desert. Now git on out of here before I have to do somethin’ you’ll regret.”
“You’d take action against a soldier?”
“Yer tryin’ to do harm to a lady; I most certainly would.”
The soldier stood then and came at Fulton, knocking the older man against the door. Fulton reached for the knife and yanked, pushing the soldier away from him simultaneously. The soldier changed directions slightly and headed for Nolie but never reached her as he found his own blade embedded to the hilt in his chest. He looked over at Fulton who gazed back at him coolly.
“I did warn you,” Fulton said calmly as the soldier sank to the ground. He turned and looked at Nolie. “Best if you head home, Miss Nolie. Robert here will see you home safely. I’ll clean up the mess and check in on you later.”
Nolie nodded absently and turned to allow Robert to help her up into the small wagon. Then she leaned back and closed her eyes, suddenly overcome with weariness.
************
Time passed even slower for Nolie with Rysa gone. She became more withdrawn and quiet and Twiggy and General kept a close eye on her. The war made things harder and harder and they struggled from day to day to hang on to what precious little they had left. Nolie and Twiggy turned the conservatory into a garden that supplied many of their basic needs. Most of what they raised in the fields was stolen by one group of soldiers or another.
Still they managed to get by and Mr. Fulton, surprisingly enough, became a good friend to them. He couldn’t stop the looting and plundering that went on, but he did manage to divert a lot of attention from Nolie and her household. And with both Rysa and her father gone, Nolie took to wearing mourning and found thankfully that even the basest of human beings tended to respect that. The fact that her grief was palpable lent credence to the effect.
************
Finally the war ended and a concerted effort towards rebuilding began. It was then that society saw what changes time and war had wrought on humanity.
I was one of the few buildings left standing in town at the end of the war, and so much effort went into rebuilding that I was neglected for a while. Besides which Nolie was the rightful owner of the property and didn’t have the immediate wherewithal to take care of the repairs that were necessary to make me fully functional. It gave me a lot of time to watch and listen to the world around me, and I heard a good deal of Nolie’s story from the talk and gossip that made its way around town.
Almost a year after the war was over, my repairs were begun though I still didn’t see Nolie at all. Eventually I was offered for sale and purchased by a young couple that was anxious to become merchants. They spent several months converting the downstairs into a dry goods store and turning the upstairs area into their home. In 1866, some sixteen months after the end of the war, Sanders Dry Goods opened to the public, and life for me settled into a new routine. Then the unexpected happened....
************
It was early summer in 1867 when Nolie ventured into town for one of her rare visits. She had been luckier than many of her neighbors and had managed to hang onto her home and a bit of her land by sheer grit and determination. But she was no longer the pampered young lady she had once been and even with help her days were long and hard.
She’d come to an arrangement with the Negroes who’d remained with her, and they worked the land for her in return for small wages and a percentage of the crop. But that still left the house, yards and garden as Nolie’s responsibility, and she worked side by side with the help she had left to get things back in order after the war.
On this morning though, Nora Sanders had cajoled her into coming into the store for tea. The fact that she needed to come to town for supplies pushed her into agreeing, and Nolie found herself preparing for a trip into town.
Twiggy smiled as she watched her young mistress dress in one of the few nice dresses she’d kept from the days before the war, knowing it had been reworked to fit into the fashion of the day. Nolie had done a very credible job with it and looked very much like the belle she’d once been. Then General brought the buggy around to the front of the house and whisked Nolie away.
They went around to the back of the building where Nora and Sam kept a private entrance to their home. Nora welcomed Nolie into her home and immediately ushered her upstairs into the sitting room. Nolie looked around in honest curiosity; Nora’s home didn’t even vaguely resemble the bank building Nolie remembered.
The second floor was the kitchen and dining area and held Nora’s large sewing room where she tailored the shirts and dresses customers ordered in the store. The third floor held two bedrooms and the parlor, and it was here that the two women sat down to take tea.
Nora fussed and puttered about, making sure things were just right. She kept up a running dialogue so all Nolie had to do was nod her head occasionally. When she finally settled down Nora found Nolie to be a very quiet young woman whose eyes belied her youthful features.
Talk ran the gamut of topics, and Nolie and Nora found they had many opinions and philosophies in common. After an hour of tea and conversation, Nolie made a move to leave. Nora understood and accompanied her new friend downstairs and into the store to take care of her shopping.
Nolie looked around in fascination, still able to see in her mind’s eye the way the building had looked under her father’s keeping as a bank. The marble floors seemed incongruously out of place with the groceries and cloth and other supplies. She shrugged and turned her attention towards gathering up her purchases. As much as she had enjoyed her outing, Nolie found that sharing tea and conversation simply made her miss Rysa that much more, and she felt the tears building up in the back of her throat.
It had been more than three years since Rysa had left and everyday Nolie wondered what had become of her. She’d never heard anything else from nor about her and every night she offered up a prayer for Rysa’s safety.
Nolie moved slowly around the shop, picking up the items she needed and placing them in her basket. The jingling of the doorbell didn’t even catch her attention as she walked over to examine the bolts of cloth set to one side of the back.
Nora came round to help Nolie with the different types of material, and they were deep in conversation about dress patterns when the door jingled a second time. The third time it rang Nora and Nolie had moved behind the screen to lay out the pattern and measure it against Nolie’s small frame.
“You are quite busy,” Nolie commented as the door opened yet again to admit someone out of their line of sight.
“Yes,” Nora answered with a smile as she held up the pattern. “We’ve been very fortunate in that business has been steady for us.”
Nolie smiled softly in return. “I’m glad. You’ve been very kind to me.”
“Pure selfishness on my part, I’m afraid, my dear. I enjoy having a large circle of friends, and I’m happy you’re a part of it. Now,” she added smartly, “let’s see how much material you’ll need for this.”
In the meantime, business had picked up briskly as the end of the day arrived and folks made a stop on their way home. Nolie finished choosing her material and was just finishing up her shopping when the door jingled again. It wasn’t until the voice spoke though that she looked up in shock.
“Excuse me, sir,” the voice said gently. “I was wondering what happened to the bank.”
Sam smiled. Occasionally he still ran into the old-timer who remembered the building as the barrister’s or the bank. He figured the young woman in front of him had probably left because of the war and had come home to find so many things changed from what she remembered. He wasn’t far from the truth. He opened his mouth to answer but was forestalled when Nolie came around the corner. Neither woman noticed when Nolie’s basket slipped to the floor.
Nolie stepped back out of the embrace and looked at Rysa with a critical eye. Standing before her was a cultured young woman in a fashionable new gown whose bearing spoke of money. She stepped back again and dropped her head, suddenly ashamed of her appearance.
Rysa stepped right into Nolie’s personal space and lifted her chin with gloved fingertips. She waited until brown eyes lifted to meet her hazel. “No ‘Welcome home, Rysa’ for me, Nolie?” Rysa watched as a myriad of emotion crossed Nolie’s face before two tears welled up and spilled down her face, then she gently wrapped her arms around Nolie.
“Welcome home, Rysa,” Nolie whispered into the hug.
“C’mon, Nolie. Let’s go home. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
************
I saw Nolie a lot more often after Rysa came home though I never did get the whole story about what happened while they were apart. Usually they came in together and took tea with Nora before doing whatever shopping they needed to do. It was good to see them together again, and when Nora and Sam started having babies in the years that followed, Rysa and Nolie played godmothers to the Sanders’ three girls.
I remember thinking how well they looked together though parts of society tended to scorn them because of their spinster status. The Sanders’ continued to be good friends to them and they in turn watched out for the Sanders’ girls, Faith, Hope, and Charity.
But until the day that they passed away, Rysa and Nolie were beautiful women who took care of each other. I always wondered at the difference having Rysa and Nolie made in Faith’s life. I think hearing her story will help you understand what I mean.
Part 4
If you look very closely, you will see that there are two places where the bricks don’t quite match. Those and the long gash on the door were the results of the War Between the States.
The first there on the lower corner, see it? That one came from a direct cannon shot in the spring of 1863. Blew a rather big hole in the wall as you can tell. The other right at the front, took out the window and part of the framing in 1864. But it is the gouge on the door that is the most interesting. It is a reminder of Rysa and Magnolia.
I should probably give you a little bit of backstory before I go any farther. In 1853, I was converted into a bank. The back office became a vault, and marble flooring was laid on the ground floor. I never did understand what prompted the changes, but it wasn’t like I had a say in them either.
The bank did a good business until the war broke out. Then it became a stop on the Underground Railroad. That was when I learned their whole story.
************
Nolie walked slowly down the cobbled streets, her head bent lost in thought. It was the fall of 1860, and the countryside was rumbling with the rumors of war. She found the talk unsettling, and she made her way to the bank at the corner of Franklyn & Rhodes to visit her papa. The walk made her introspective, and she thought back over her life and what had brought her to the decision she’d come to that morning.
Cyrus Brighton was the president of the First National Bank and had guided it into prosperity in the years since its founding. He was well thought of in the community, and his plantation though not large was a thriving success. His house slaves were mostly devoted as he was not a hard master to serve.
One was particularly faithful. Rysa was a mulatto who’d been brought into the house as a youngster to be a companion to his newborn daughter. The eight-year-old stared at the new baby with wide hazel eyes not realizing the difference the little brown-eyed child would make in her life.
It was 1844 when Magnolia Brighton was born, the only child of Cyrus and Rebecca Brighton. They’d been married for twelve years when she made her appearance and never were two people so happy to welcome a baby into their home. Complications set in for Rebecca though, and before Nolie was two weeks old her mother passed into God’s arms leaving Cyrus to raise their baby girl alone.
Cyrus was distraught so his housekeeper slave who went by the name Twiggy took little Nolie in to Cyrus and laid her in his arms. He continued to look out the window though his arms tightened convulsively around the tiny bundle.
“Massa Cyrus? Massa Cy? Ah knows ya don’ wanna hears dis from me, sah, but Miz Nolie, she still needs ya, sah.”
He sat still so long that Twiggy wondered if he’d even heard her but finally his attention turned to the sleeping baby, then his eyes tracked to Twiggy. “I do not know anything about babies, Twiggy. What am I going to do without Rebecca?”
Twiggy couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down her face. “Massa Cy, if’n ya’d like sah, Ah’ll take care of de baby, sah. I knows of someones I kin git to hep wif her....”
Nolie started fussing, and Cyrus awkwardly patted her behind. “You do what you think is best for her, Twiggy. I leave her in your capable hands.”
Rysa became Nolie’s friend and companion, and they’d never questioned their right to be together. Rysa changed Nolie’s diapers, fed her and rocked her when she cried. As Nolie grew older, Rysa taught Nolie how to climb trees and fish and swim, and Nolie in turn taught Rysa how to read and write. Though Rysa was eight years older, the two girls grew up together, and Rysa was mostly able to put the fact of her slavery out of her mind.
On the eve of Nolie’s tenth birthday, Rysa’s slavery was brought home to them both in a very real way.
************
Rysa was accompanying Nolie downtown to see her father at the bank. It wasn’t something she particularly enjoyed because of the attention it got her. But Nolie wanted to see her father, and Rysa could not, would not allow the precocious child to walk into town alone.
When they arrived at the bank, Rysa was stopped at the door by the doorman who was unnecessarily rude and condescending. “Whaddya want here, Nigger? Yer kind don’t have business here.”
Nolie didn’t understand the man’s ugliness, but even as a child she knew she didn’t like his tone in addressing her friend. She stepped up in front of Rysa and pointed at the man, glaring up into his face. “You don’t talk to her like that, Mister. She is my friend!”
The man sneered at her and tried to push the child away from him. “Watch it....” was all he managed before finding his hand caught in a vice grip and blazing hazel eyes burning into him.
“Why do you not go tell...?”
“I’m gonna tell my papa on you, you bad man.”
“Problem, Mr. Fulton?” Cyrus Brighton’s quiet voice cut into the melee effectively silencing everyone. One of his tellers had heard the disturbance and fetched him from his office in time to hear Nolie’s youthful voice raised in anger.
“Yes, sir. This nigger was trying to get in the front door. We do not let her kind do business here.”
“I see. Perhaps you should know the facts before you start passing judgment, Mr. Fulton. Rysa is my daughter’s governess, and as such is allowed in with my daughter when she accompanies her to town. If that is going to be a problem for you, perhaps you should find other employment because I will not sacrifice Magnolia’s safety for your petty bigotry. Do I make myself clear?” he asked, not understanding how bigoted he himself sounded.
“Yes, sir. I did not realize....”
“Very well, Mr. Fulton. Don’t let it happen again.”
“Yes, sir,” the young man said grudgingly, just moving out of the way to allow Rysa to pass by him into the building.
That night Nolie went into Rysa’s room without knocking and for the first time noticed the scars on Rysa’s back. Rysa quickly pulled on her nightshirt when she heard Nolie’s gasp. “Rysa? What happened to your back?”
It was a little awkward between them now - Rysa was an adult while Nolie remained a child, and Rysa never lost sight of the fact that she was a slave though she managed to put the fact aside most of the time. She silently mourned this day... knowing it would put a gulf between them that they would never be able to bridge.
She sat down on her bed and Nolie crawled up beside her. Trusting brown eyes looked into hazel and asked again. “Rysa?”
Rysa looked down into Nolie’s eyes, then shrugged as if it were of no great consequence. “I’m a slave, Nolie,” she answered quietly. “I was taken from the fields as a child and brought in to be a companion to you. It’s something I’ve always been thankful for - at first because it got me out of the fields. But later it was because we became friends. I never expected that. But I am still a slave.”
Rysa stopped talking as though afraid to reveal too much, and Nolie sat quietly pondering her words. Finally Nolie looked up into Rysa’s eyes. “I don’t care. You are my best friend, and nothin’ is goin’ to change that.” She jutted out her chin diffidently. “I won’t let it.”
Rysa brushed a light kiss over the child’s light brown hair, and they sat quietly for a time after that. Rysa began to think Nolie had fallen asleep she was silent so long, then her young friend spoke again.
“Rysa? Who hit you? Who left the marks on your back?”
“It does not matter, Nolie. It was a long time ago.”
“It matters to me, Ry. Please tell me.”
Rysa sighed, wondering how they’d gotten into this bizarre conversation of times and events she tried very hard not to remember. “It was Master Wilkes.”
“Wilkes? The plantation foreman?” Nolie’s childish brow knotted in thought. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like him. He is just mean.” Nolie scrambled from the bed and headed towards the door. “I’ll ask Papa to fire him.”
Rysa rushed from the bed to stand in front of the door. “No! You cannot do that, Nolie, please.” She knelt down to be at eye level and went on quickly when the small face scrunched in confusion. “Please... it will only make things worse if you do.”
Nolie stared into the hazel eyes she had trusted since birth and saw truth and terror and sorrow. She nodded her head slowly. “Okay, Rysa. But I am not lettin’ the fact that you are a slave change things between us. You are still my best friend and always will be.” She clasped her arms around Rysa’s neck and kissed her smooth cheek goodnight. “Maybe if I ask Papa to free you....” she mumbled mostly to herself not seeing the eyes behind her widen in alarm. She slipped out of the room closing the door behind her, then just as suddenly reopened it and stuck her head in.
“Good night, Ry.”
“Good night, Nolie,” Rysa whispered, still overwhelmed by what had just happened.
************
Nolie shook her head remembering that day six years prior as she walked up the short steps to the bank. She had been so young and so naïve, but she hadn’t let it change their friendship. Even when her father refused to free Rysa and she’d been angry with him for weeks, her friendship with Rysa had remained steady.
“Good mornin’, Charles,” she said politely to the doorman. Fulton had left shortly after the incident with Rysa, and Nolie for one was glad to see him go. His rudeness to her friend had marked him as unacceptable in her child’s mind, and she’d never gotten past it. Now that she stood on the cusp of adulthood, she was even more adamant in her feelings and was coming to break the news to her father before he could send out invitations to her cotillion.
She stepped through the portal, nodding to the men who though busy with work took the time to greet her. She walked to the back area where Cyrus maintained his office and waited for his assistant to announce her. Then she crossed the threshold and closed the door softly behind her.
Her father rose from behind the desk and came around to meet her, arms extended for a hug. When the embrace ended, Cyrus stepped back with a smile and motioned her to a seat. “Nolie, what a nice surprise! Are you so excited about your coming out party that you came down to make sure I sent the invitations out today?” He gestured to the stack of thick, cream colored envelopes on his desk and grinned. “I was just finishing up the last of them. General is supposed to pick them up and deliver them round this afternoon.”
“Well, it is partly true, Papa,” Nolie said softly, taking a deep breath before looking up into his eyes. “I don’t want a party, Papa. Ry cannot come, and I will not have one without her.”
Cyrus looked at his daughter in consternation. “Nolie, this has been the talk of the town for weeks. Why are you deciding this now? Folks expect this.”
“Well, folks will just have to lower their expectations. I will not have a party if Rysa cannot come, and I will not have her be shunned because of her skin color if she was to come. There is no way to win so I will simply not have a party.”
“And if I go ahead and give you one? There are a number of eligible young men who have been looking forward to this, Nolie. Rysa is just a slave. Is it fair not to give them the opportunity t...?” Cyrus didn’t finish, stopped by the fire in her almost black eyes.
“If you go ahead with the cotillion, Papa, I won’t be there. You will have it without me.”
He looked at her in silence, the stubborn set of her jaw reminding him so much of her mother it almost hurt to see it. “You’re serious.”
“Yes, I am,” she answered quietly but with conviction. Her glance never wavered, and in that moment Cyrus Brighton had never been more proud of his willful, determined daughter. He sighed audibly though. She was making a statement he wasn’t sure he wanted the world to know about in these turbulent times. Cyrus was considered a fair and just man, but he still owned slaves and honestly saw no problem with it. He wasn’t a cruel master and could not understand his daughter’s attitude.
“I am not going to convince you otherwise, am I?”
“No sir, and I do not want you to take this out on Rysa. She knows nothin’ about this; it is completely my decision.” Cyrus had the grace to blush at Magnolia’s intuition. He had been thinking exactly that, wondering in the back of his mind if Rysa had somehow influenced Nolie’s decision. “Promise me, Papa. Promise me you will not take this out on Rysa.”
He looked at her sheepishly. “You have your mother’s strength of will, Nolie. I promise I will do nothing to Rysa for your decision. But you are going to have to explain to the neighbors. They have been waiting for this occasion... some of them for years.”
She rose from the chair. “It is my choice, Papa and not their business. Thank you for allowin’ me to choose.”
“I have never denied you much of anything, Daughter, and if you do not want a cotillion I certainly will not make you suffer through one.” He stroked her cheek gently. “You have such a tender heart. I hope you do not get hurt by this.”
“I won’t, Papa. Rysa means more to me than our gossipy neighbors,” she assured him blithely. But she had no idea of the things that were to come.
************
Now you have to understand that the War Between the States was probably the most horrific event I have ever been exposed to including the ugliness I later endured. Brother turned against brother and for what? Greed, mostly. It was one of the few times I was grateful not to understand humans.
I do know from listening to and watching everything around me that it started out because of economics, and it ended up being about so much more. The Emancipation Proclamation really did not accomplish much except to anger Southerners a little more. Those who were against slavery were already making strides to make things better. The Underground Railroad was a reality, and more and more slaves were leaving the fields and slavery of the South for a supposedly better life in the North. Some of them found better but most got a rude awakening instead.
However, what happened to most doesn’t concern me as I was not witness to their stories. Perhaps I should let you see a little more about Rysa and Nolie first. Then you will understand more the breaking they felt when the time came.
************
Rysa noticed that fewer and fewer of Nolie’s friends came around when Nolie refused to have a cotillion, and she did her best to step away from the younger woman and let her become the belle her father wanted her to be. Nolie was having none of it however, and continued to cling to her friendship with Rysa. She didn’t flaunt their friendship, but she did nothing to hide it.
Eventually their attention turned towards the ever-increasing threat of war, and they lost interest in scorning Nolie for choosing a slave’s company over their own. Instead they became more and more adamant in the vocal outcries for war and stopped by frequently to talk about why war was becoming more necessary and how it would change the country for the better and....
Nolie got sick and tired of hearing the incessant chatter and took to escaping out the back with Rysa when she heard General headed her way. They had worked out a signal, and when General cleared his throat upon receiving callers Nolie grabbed Rysa by the hand and ran out into the gardens so as to be unavailable.
The first time it happened, Rysa was stunned. She sat in the gazebo catching her breath and looking at Nolie. Finally she opened her mouth and spoke quietly. “Do you want to explain to me why two grown women just went flying out of the house as though the hounds of hell and damnation itself were giving chase, especially when you have company?” Her tone wasn’t accusing but merely curious. She’d long ago given up trying to understand Nolie; Rysa simply loved her and accepted Nolie as she was.
Nolie stretched out along the length of the bench where Rysa sat, laying her head in the older woman’s lap and enjoying her rather unladylike position. It reminded her a lot of the many times they’d sat here just like this during her growing up years, and for a moment she wished she could reclaim that time and go back to when things were so much simpler.
She closed her eyes and sighed when she felt Rysa’s long fingers gently begin to comb through her hair. “I am tired of the singular focus of their conversation, Ry, and I know it gets to you. They are deliberately nettlin’ you, and I do not like it. So General and I have worked out a signal, and when they stop by I am conveniently not in to receive them.”
Rysa sat silently absorbing the information Nolie had just imparted, gently massaging through the light brown hair and marveling at its softness. She felt Nolie unwind and smiled. Always since Nolie had been a small child, this had been one of the best ways to calm and relax the small whirlwind the young woman had been. Rysa smirked to herself - and obviously still was. She sat a while longer in noiseless contemplation.
“Nolie?” Rysa said softly, finally. She did not want to disturb the younger woman if Nolie was asleep. One brown eye peeked up at her.
“Hmm?” came the drowsy answer.
“Why?”
“Hmm?” came the sleepy response again. “Why what, Ry?”
“Nothin’... never mind.” Rysa’s shoulder’s dropped. Both of Nolie’s eyes popped open at the dropped ‘g’. Since learning to read, Rysa had always taken great care with her language, and Nolie could count on her hands the number of times she had let her speech slide. It always coincided with upset or distress, and Nolie wondered what had happened. She turned her head to look directly at Rysa and caught the tears glistening on the smooth skin.
Nolie reached a hand up and gently removed the traces of wetness. “This is not nothin’, Ry. What’s wrong?” It was times like this that Nolie was reminded of Rysa’s fragility, and she felt the more grown up of the two of them.
Rysa clasped the fingers on her face and kissed the tips lightly before smiling through watery eyes. “You have always put me... put our friendship before everything, no matter the cost to yourself. I just sometimes wonder why. How can the life and friendship of a slave be worth so much?”
Nolie sat up so fast she nearly caught Rysa in the chin with her head. She grabbed Rysa’s face firmly between her hands, making sure the hazel eyes were focused on her completely before she continued. “I know that it has been very hard for you, especially lately with all the rude and snide comments. But I only want to have to explain this to you once, and I want you to understand and accept that I mean every word that I say.”
Rysa’s eyes searched Nolie’s and she nodded. Nolie looked back at her intently. “You were a child, and yet you raised me and taught me. You gave me everythin’ you had Rysa, even when you had nothin’ left to give. Now as a slave, I am sure you did what was expected of you. But you went beyond that. More than that, more than anythin’, you loved me. You loved me and cared for me and that wasn’t expected.”
Nolie took a deep breath. “So even if I did not love you and even if you were not my very best friend, I would still look out for you, Rysa. But the fact is I do love you and you are my very best friend in the whole world. And friends, especially best friends, stick together... no matter what.”
Rysa didn’t answer but laid her head on Nolie’s shoulder and wept tears of joy and sorrow and relief. In all her years, though she’d known Twiggy and General cared for her and Master Cyrus liked her well enough, not once had anyone aside from Nolie ever expressed love for her and never had Nolie put it so succinctly.
Nolie just held onto her and let her cry.
************
Things changed subtly for them after that. I know this because they made a few more trips into town. Up to that point except for the bits I was actually witness to, most of their story that I knew came from their reminiscing together here on the last night they had together before Rysa left for parts unknown. But we’ll get to that shortly.
Two separate events before that night stand out clearly for me because unlike most of this story, which I got second hand after the fact, both of these occurrences happened within these walls. The first was just days before the war began.
************
After their conversation in the gazebo, things seemed to calm down for a while. Winter settled into the land and Rysa and Nolie fell into a normal winter routine. At sixteen, Nolie was considered a grown woman now so days were spent quietly and the evenings were even more so. Cyrus had tried, subtly for him, to encourage Nolie to dismiss Rysa from her service. He argued that now that she was grown up she no longer needed a governess. She agreed and immediately made Rysa her companion. Cyrus gave in quietly, knowing in his heart that he could never separate them unless Nolie willed it so.
Though she cherished the time she and Rysa got to spend together, never was anyone so happy to see spring come as Nolie was. She was looking forward to getting out and seeing sun and green grass. The first nice day she cajoled Rysa into a buggy ride, and they headed out into the still cool, muddy world to visit Cyrus at the bank.
The ride in was nice, relatively speaking, and both women were glad to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. The buggy slowed as they reached town as most of the countryside seemed to have the same desire to get out.
Just as they came to the intersection of Franklyn & Rhodes, there was a horrendous crash and Nolie felt the carriage go flying as a heavy weight plowed into the side of it. She remembered Rysa’s body covering her own protectively before her head slammed into the floor and everything went mercifully black.
When she came to, Nolie moaned and lifted her free hand to her throbbing head. She blinked her eyes opened, then slammed them shut again as pain lanced through her head at the brightness she encountered. “Ouch,” she whimpered.
“Magnolia? Sweetheart, are you all right?”
“Papa? Papa, where is Rysa? And why does my head hurt?”
Cyrus knelt right next to the couch and cupped his hands around Nolie’s face. “Nolie, can you open your eyes for me?” He waited as she blinked them open furiously, tears sliding down her face. “Good girl. Now what’s the last thing you remember?”
Nolie was confused. “Papa, where’s Rysa??” She focused on that solitary thought. She clutched at his coat. “Papa, you’re scarin’ me. Where is she, Papa??”
“Magnolia, Nolie... listen to me, Honey. I want you to focus on the sound of my voice.” Nolie tried to nod but groaned at the motion instead. Her eyes closed again reflexively. “That’s good, Sweetheart. Just lie still and tell me the last thing you remember.”
She licked dry lips, forcing herself to think back. “Uh, we were comin’ into town to um... we were comin’ to see you. I... I... we slowed down, and....” Nolie started shaking. “Papa, where is Rysa?”
Cyrus glanced at his desk where the woman was laid out as the doctor worked feverishly to staunch her bleeding. The doctor who something of a white supremacist had been somewhat surprised at Cyrus’ vehemence that the mulatto be treated first, especially knowing Cyrus’ own leanings. But he did so knowing that the woman had saved Nolie’s life and that she had practically raised the younger woman. For Nolie’s sake, they both hoped Rysa survived.
“Nolie, when the accident happened, Rysa moved to cover you, to protect you like she has always done. She got somewhat injured in the process and Dr. Smithers is working on her now. We need you to lie here quietly until he gets done and can take a look at you, all right?”
Nolie blinked her eyes opened again slowly, peering into her father’s face with an intensity he found disturbing. She processed what he’d said and clutched his coat again. “Don’t let her die, Papa,” was all she said before closing her eyes and drifting off.
It was sometime later when Nolie opened her eyes again, wincing at the pain in her head and lifting a hand to find a bandage in place. She blinked, wondering if her sight had been affected or if she’d simply slept the day away. She sat up slowly, noting her father sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace talking quietly to the doctor. Both men turned to look at her at the noise she made.
Nolie had caught sight of the body stretched out on Cyrus’ desk and muffled a small cry of distress. She rose on shaky legs and walked slowly towards it. Cyrus stood and rapidly headed for her. He intercepted her in two steps and took her firmly by the elbow.
“Magnolia? Look at me, Daughter.” Cyrus waited until her had her full attention. “Rysa is resting, Sweetheart.”
Brown eyes filled with tears stared into his own, making his heart break at the pain he saw in them. “She’s not dead?” came the whispered question. Cyrus looked up at the doctor who’d come up on Nolie’s other side.
“No, Miss Magnolia. Your friend is not dead. But she is going to need rest and quiet for the next little while.”
Nolie moved her head around slowly to meet the doctor’s eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Smithers. When can we take her home?”
“I would like to keep her here overnight, but when she wakes up she should be able to travel the short distance home as long as you go very slowly and carefully.” At that moment a soft groan came from the desk and Nolie swiveled toward the sound, clutching her head at the pain the sudden movement caused. “Easy, Miss Magnolia,” the doctor advised. “You still have quite a big bump on your noggin.”
Nolie nodded slowly, then resumed her slow walk towards her father’s desk. Cyrus stayed at her side, a hand steadying her at the elbow. Then he seated her in his large leather chair and stepped away. Nolie slowly reached up and clasped Rysa’s hand in her own. Their conversation was too low to be heard, but the two men watched their interaction for a long moment before turning back to the fire.
“Thank you, George,” Cyrus said softly. “I know it was a lot to ask of you.”
The doctor shrugged. “I did it for Magnolia, Cyrus. The nigger is the only mama she’s ever had, and whatever else you can or cannot say about the woman, she did a damn fine job raising her. I could not ask Magnolia to lose more, especially when that nigger risked her life to make sure your little girl was safe.” He looked directly into Cyrus’ eyes. “Magnolia would have been killed.”
Cyrus swallowed hard and nodded. “I know. I saw the wreckage right after it happened. We were very lucky.”
They both turned to look at the two women, and despite themselves found the tableau before them touching. Nolie’s head rested on Rysa’s hip, and their hands were tangled together. The look of peace on both faces caused an unexpected smile to form on both men’s faces.
“You really think she will be all right?” Cyrus asked softly referring to Rysa.
“I do not think Magnolia will permit anything less.” Then they turned their attention back to contemplating the fire, and the silence of the night kept them company.
************
Rysa did make a slow recovery under Nolie’s watchful eye, and in the meantime, war broke out and split the Union and everything changed.
It was a very dark period in history, but nothing compared to the darkness I saw Nolie fall into, and all because of hatred and greed. It’s a story that bears telling though - just so humans never lose sight of the heights and depths that mankind is capable of.
Chapter VI
The winter of 1863 had been a very hard time for everyone, but especially Nolie who came down with a bout of coughing sickness so bad Twiggy and Rysa stayed by her side for three days fending off fever and chills. Twice they feared they’d lost her, but she fought back with a tenacity that brought happy tears to everyone in the house. It was the same fighting spirit that led to the confrontation in the spring the following year.
By the early part of 1864, the country was weary of war, but especially in the South where the way of life had been destroyed. Many slaves had run off when President Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation and the fields had been left to fallow.
For her part Nolie considered herself very lucky. She had lost a majority of her field hands, but she still had the household slaves and a few of the outdoor ones. She had tried to encourage them to leave, but following Cyrus’ premature death they had decided to stay with Nolie. She had promptly turned around and freed those that stayed.
Nolie had learned a lot since war had broken out and even more since Cyrus had died. She had learned about washing, gardening, cooking, cleaning and just scraping along to get by. She had learned about loyalty and true friendship. She had seen the ugly business war was, and what it did to men whom she’d always considered upstanding gentlemen in the community. Nolie felt tired to her very soul.
Rysa had watched with pride as Nolie grew and matured through the trials that the war had brought to her door. The household had become her family and friends and together they had survived.
Soldiers, both blue and gray, had preyed upon the house and its occupants. Nolie had hidden as many of the valuables as she could, but she couldn’t hide herself or Rysa and advances were made that made them both furious. Rysa had come into her own and had no problem standing up to those who wanted to take advantage of her for whatever reason. But there came a time when it caused Rysa and Nolie to separate from necessity.
************
The morning was warm and the sounds of the war were distant though there were still troops wandering through the area. Nolie was out back, hanging the washing on the line when she heard Rysa’s raised voice.
“NO!! Take your hands off of me!!” There was a male roar, then a female scream and then silence. Nolie dropped the laundry in her hands, gathered her skirts and took off at a run around the house. What she saw caused a red wash to flood her senses and time slowed as she allowed the fury to take over.
Rysa lay on the ground unconscious, bleeding from her nose and mouth. Her dress was ripped and torn, and all Nolie saw were two figures grabbing and mauling Rysa’s body beneath them with dirty, anxious hands. Nolie let out a guttural growl and ran towards them. The men were so involved with their assault that they didn’t hear her approach or see the murderous intent in her eyes until it was too late.
Nolie snatched up the bayonet that lay to one side, having been cast aside by one of men in his haste to violate Rysa. Without hesitation she rammed it into his back, feeling the warm blood coat her hands and arms as it spewed forth from his body. His compatriot didn’t even have time to stand before Nolie yanked the blade from the fallen man’s body and swung the weapon around in club fashion. The contact with the back of his skull sent shockwaves up her arms, but she swung twice more before he crumpled.
With a sob she dropped the gun and cradled Rysa’s upper body in her arms, jerking her out from under the two fallen soldiers. How long they lay tangled together Nolie couldn’t have said. But when her tears stopped flowing and allowed her to see, she noticed Twiggy and General kneeling beside them.
“Miz Nolie? Ya bein’ a’ right ma’am? Kin we’uns hep ya and Miz Rysa inside?” Twiggy eased her arms around Nolie’s small frame. “C’mon now, Miz Nolie,” she coaxed when Nolie’s arms tightened around Rysa’s still form. “Gen’r’l take Miz Rysa, an’ he’ll be real easy. C’mon, Miz Nolie... ya gots ta let us hep ya now.”
Twiggy continued to talk and coax until Nolie finally let loose of Rysa and General could lift her into his arms. There was a twin groan as he straightened and Rysa was shifted. Twiggy kept a firm hold on Nolie until they could get into the house.
General headed for the small spare bedroom just behind the kitchen, not wanting to take the chance of dropping Rysa on the stairs. He placed her gently on the bed and moved back outside to dispose of the bodies before they brought down more problems then they could handle.
Nolie knelt down by the bedside and took one of Rysa’s hands in her own. “Don’t you die on me, Rysa! Don’t you dare leave me like this, you hear me?? You fight this!”
Twiggy put a bowl of warmed water down beside her and put a cloth into Nolie’s hands. “Here, chile, ya needs ta clean her up... lessen ya wants me to do it.”
Nolie shook her head slowly. “I’ll do it, Twiggy. Will you please fetch a nightgown for her? She needs somethin’ more than this,” indicating the torn dress.
“Yes’m. Ah’ll brings sumpin’ fo’ ya too.”
Nolie started to protest, then caught sight of the blood all over herself. “Thank you, Twiggy. I appreciate that.”
She wet the rag and winced as the red slid off her hands. Nolie put that fact and the reason for it out of her mind and concentrated her energies on Rysa. She spoke softly as she wiped blood and dirt off Rysa’s face. Several times Nolie had to bite her lip to keep from crying. The bruises across Rysa’s upper body were already becoming a lurid shade of purple and Nolie winced to touch them. Nolie moved the hair off Rysa’s forehead and brushed her lips across it. Then she put her head down on the bed and cried.
There was the slightest touch on her head and it just made the tears flow faster. Then Twiggy was reaching for her hands and pulling Nolie to her feet. “C’mon, Miz Nolie. Let Twiggy gets ya cleaned up so’s we kin get Miz Rysa dressed.”
Nolie nodded slightly and rose to her feet unsteadily. She stood passively while Twiggy wiped the blood from her hands, arms and neck. “Lif’ ya ahms, chile, so’s Ah kin get dis dress off’n ya an’ git ya into sumpin’ clean.”
Nolie shivered when the clean linen slid over her skin and she sighed in sheer reaction. “Thank you, Twiggy.”
“Pawsh,” the slave answered. “Ain’t nuthin’ we’uns roun’ here wouldn’ do fo’ ya, Miz Nolie. Ya’s always been one ta look out fo’ us real good.” She brushed the light brown hair out of Nolie’s eyes. “Now, c’mon an’ hep Twiggy git Miz Rysa into her nightie.”
Nolie straightened then and moved back to the bedside. “What do you need me to do, Twiggy?”
“Ya set right dere behin’ her and lif her up real gen’le like. Let her res’ on ya. Twiggy’ll do the res’.”
Nolie slipped into the bed and eased herself behind her injured friend, tenderly lifting her and cradling Rysa’s bruised and battered face and torso in her arms. She helped Twiggy ease the torn and ripped clothing away from Rysa’s body, startled at the low moan and tight grip she found her wrist suddenly wrapped in.
Nolie looked down, pleasantly surprised to see hazel eyes looking back at her. They were pain-filled and slightly glazed over, and she brushed a light kiss over the now clean forehead. Rysa tried to smile, but the movement of her swollen lips caused another groan to emerge from her throat.
“Shh... easy. Just rest easy, Rysa. Twiggy and I will take care of you. Close your eyes now.”
Rysa gave the smallest nod and obeyed the command. Twiggy finished dressing her and moved to put a hand on Nolie’s shoulder. “Miz Nolie? Why don’ ya close ya eyes too? Ya need to res’ and Ah’ll wake ya up in a bit. Ah needs ta go fix sum broth fo’ de bof ob ya. C’mon now,” she coaxed softly, watching as Nolie’s eyelids fluttered and finally closed.
Twiggy stood in the doorway for a long moment and shook her head. “Sumpin’s gonna haf ta be done,” she muttered to herself, then turned her steps to the kitchen.
************
Day turned into night before either body stirred from sleep. Nolie blinked open brown eyes at a muffled moan from Rysa. Twiggy appeared at the door at the identical moment as though she had been waiting there for them to awaken, which of course she had.
“Miz Nolie? I’se gonna bring ya’ll some suppah. Kin ya hep me move Miz Rysa so’s ya’ll kin eat a bite?”
Nolie’s stomach rebelled at the thought of having food put in it, but she knew Rysa would need something to help her get better. Before she could move though, Rysa mumbled, “Help me up, Nolie. I think I can manage with help.”
Nolie slid out from behind Rysa, gently propping her up and waiting beside the bed until Rysa swung her legs over the side and slowly stood. “Are you doing all right, Ry?”
“Mostly. My face and my head hurt and my chest is a little sore.”
“Hmm,” Nolie acknowledged. She was could only imagine how Rysa hurt given the lurid bruises she sported. “Let’s see what Twiggy fixed us for supper. Bet it’s somethin’ good.”
Twiggy chuckled softly as she stepped into the room, subtly guiding Rysa to the table. “Ya jus’ be bettin’ right, Miz Nolie. I done fixed chi’k’n ‘n’ dumplin’s fo ya bof. I ‘spect ya bof to sit up to table an’ eat now.”
Rysa tried to smile though with her swollen face it was more of a grimace. “Thank you, Twiggy. My mouth and my stomach appreciate that.” Rysa did a credible job eating a decent portion of what was on her plate, but Nolie pushed her food around until Twiggy took away from her with a snort of disgust. Rysa rose and patted the elderly woman’s hand. “Thank you Twiggy. It was very good.”
“Leas’wise yo’d know, Miz Rysa, unlike sum pussons in dis house,” with a glance in Nolie’s direction. Nolie didn’t answer but simply turned on her heel and walked out the door not even minding the fact that she was in a robe and nightgown. Rysa’s eyes followed her in concern, then tracked back to Twiggy.
“What happened to upset, Miss Nolie, Twiggy?”
“I ‘spect yo’d bes’ be askin’ her ‘bout that, Miz Rysa. But give de chile a chance to think a while. She’s done had a hard day. Now why don’ yo’ let Twiggy draw yo’ a warm baf? It’ll make yo’ hurt less.”
Rysa’s eyes followed the small figure pacing through the neglected gardens, and her heart ached at the defeated attitude so painfully apparent in the slumped shoulders and drooping head. She took a step towards the screen door before Twiggy latched onto her arm in a gentle but firm grip.
“C’mon, Miz Rysa. Yo’ gif Miz Nolie sum time. She’ll be comin’ to fin’ yo’ ‘fore too long. Gen’r’l keep a eye on her meantime. C’mon now.”
Rysa allowed herself to be gently led upstairs, then she was left to undress and climb into the warm water. She restrained a groan but sank back into the warmth with a tiniest sigh of relief. She didn’t allow herself the luxury of too a long soak. She was still concerned over whatever was troubling Nolie.
She heard the sound of soft footfalls come up the stairs, then a door closing down the hall. Rysa eased from the tub, shaking her head at her bruised reflection. She dressed slowly, then eased into the hall and walked to stand in front of Nolie’s door.
She raised her hand to knock, then hesitated until she heard the soft sound of sobbing emanating from inside. Rysa opened the door and crossed to Nolie’s bedside, sitting down next to the younger woman who was curled into a tiny ball. Nolie reached a hand out and tugged gently, forcing Rysa to lie down beside her. Rysa wrapped her arms around Nolie and simply held her until the tears passed.
“You ready to talk now?” Rysa asked softly when Nolie’s crying had finally abated. She was quiet so long Rysa checked to see if Nolie had fallen asleep. She smiled into the sleepy brown eyes that gazed back at her, concerned when she didn’t get an answering one in return. “Nolie?”
Nolie sat up and wiped her eyes, accepting the cool, wet rag that Rysa had gotten and now offered her. She looked at Rysa a long moment before smiling sadly, her eyes lingering on the bruises that marred her face. “I think the time has come, Ry,” Nolie said softly.
Rysa frowned, wincing in reaction to the pain that motion caused her. “What time has come, Nolie?” asked in honest confusion. “What are you referring to?”
“The Underground Railroad, Rysa. I think it is time for you to use it.”
“You are sendin’ me away, Nolie?”
“No, Rysa. No! I just think the time has come for you to decide to leave. It’s gettin’ too dangerous around here for you to stay.”
Rysa got off the bed and walked to the window, turning her back towards Nolie. “What makes me so special, Nolie? Why are you not sending Twiggy, General... anyone else, everyone else away as well?” Hurt confusion and not a little anger were clearly apparent in her voice.
Nolie twisted the rag in her hands in sheer frustration, not wanting to go into specifics. She could still feel the warmth of the soldiers’ blood as it sprayed over her and the images continued to make her stomach roil. The silence made Rysa’s temper flare and she stalked back to the bed, reaching out and forcing Nolie’s eyes to meet her own. “Why, Nolie? WHY??”
Now Nolie’s own temper flared and she jerked her chin away from Rysa’s touch. She stood, forcing Rysa to back up. She poked a finger into Rysa’s chest, forcing the older woman to continue to step back. “Because I care about you. Because I cannot stand to have what happened to you today continue to happen. Because I killed two men today, and I don’t know if I can do that again!!!”
Rysa’s mouth dropped as Nolie’s words penetrated her consciousness. For her part, Nolie rushed for the washbasin as the implications of what she had said washed over her. Rysa moved to comfort her, holding Nolie up as she retched.
When Nolie was down to shivering and shaking in reaction, Rysa carried Nolie the short distance to the bed, then snatched a blanket from the end and covered her. She moved and re-wet the cloth Nolie had dropped on the bed and gently cleaned Nolie up. Nolie fell asleep and Rysa got up and cleaned up the water bowl, then moved a chair to the window and sat down to stare out into the darkness.
Sometime in the darkest part of the night, Nolie cried out and Rysa crawled into bed next to her until the younger woman settled back into a deep sleep. Near daybreak Rysa came to a decision and waited for Nolie to awaken.
************
They came in together that afternoon and sat reliving the memories I’ve told you about until sometime very late. I don’t know the exact time... just that it was quite a while after darkness fell. Then I became witness to the final scene between them.
************
In the darkest part of the night, a bare touch on Rysa’s arm awakened her and Nolie from the light doze they had drifted into. An older man stood in front of them, cap held in his gloved hands. He gestured for silence and motioned for Rysa to follow him. With a look she asked him to give them a minute of privacy, and he nodded and moved to wait by the door.
Nolie and Rysa stood together and embraced in silence for a long moment. Then Nolie stepped back a pace and looked into Rysa’s face, memorizing what she knew she would never see again. She took a deep breath and spoke so softly, Rysa had to strain to hear the words.
“I am not sure what I’m goin’ to do without you, Rysa. You’ve been my devoted friend and confidant since I was born.” Nolie’s voice shook slightly and she swallowed hard. “You will always have a place in my heart, but I want you to go and find better than what you can have here now. I....” She turned away to keep Rysa from seeing the tears spill down her face.
Rysa’s hands clenched and she stepped up behind Nolie. “I will never find better than what you’ve given me here, Nolie, and I will come home again.” She brushed a light kiss across the top of the brown hair and stepped away. Nolie caught Rysa’s hand and kissed her knuckles, then pressed her cheek against them before gently pushing Rysa towards the door.
“Go with God, my friend.” Then she watched until Rysa disappeared into the night.
Nolie sat until dawn began breaking over the horizon absorbing the sudden loneliness in her heart before she turned to make her way out the door silently... only to run into another obstacle before she was outside.
She felt the breeze go by her head as the blade plunged into the wood. Her eyes widened as the man towered over her and reached a hand toward her throat. Nolie pushed him away and stomped on his foot. He growled at her and lunged to find himself stopped by an unexpected barrier.
“I believe that you’d best look elsewhere for your entertainment. Miss Nolie is not nor never has been available to the likes of you. Now leave before I give you the thrashin’ you so richly deserve.”
Nolie looked up in surprise as Mr. Fulton seemed to grow larger as he defended her. She still remembered him harshly from her childhood and the day he was hateful to Rysa. It was odd to see him represented so differently after all this time. Then her attention turned back to the soldier who tried to reach around Fulton to find his hand caught and twisted at a painful angle.
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear.” Fulton twisted harder until the man’s legs crumpled under him. Then he shoved the soldier back and watched impassively as he fell onto his back.
“That was a stupid thing to do, old man. Two of my buddies disappeared after visiting that bitch and her nigger friend two days ago. And I saw them sneaking ‘round last night... figure she sent that nigger out of here. I’ll have my revenge one way or t’other.”
“Well, going by your behavior, I’d say they got what was coming to them if they didn’t desert. Now git on out of here before I have to do somethin’ you’ll regret.”
“You’d take action against a soldier?”
“Yer tryin’ to do harm to a lady; I most certainly would.”
The soldier stood then and came at Fulton, knocking the older man against the door. Fulton reached for the knife and yanked, pushing the soldier away from him simultaneously. The soldier changed directions slightly and headed for Nolie but never reached her as he found his own blade embedded to the hilt in his chest. He looked over at Fulton who gazed back at him coolly.
“I did warn you,” Fulton said calmly as the soldier sank to the ground. He turned and looked at Nolie. “Best if you head home, Miss Nolie. Robert here will see you home safely. I’ll clean up the mess and check in on you later.”
Nolie nodded absently and turned to allow Robert to help her up into the small wagon. Then she leaned back and closed her eyes, suddenly overcome with weariness.
************
Time passed even slower for Nolie with Rysa gone. She became more withdrawn and quiet and Twiggy and General kept a close eye on her. The war made things harder and harder and they struggled from day to day to hang on to what precious little they had left. Nolie and Twiggy turned the conservatory into a garden that supplied many of their basic needs. Most of what they raised in the fields was stolen by one group of soldiers or another.
Still they managed to get by and Mr. Fulton, surprisingly enough, became a good friend to them. He couldn’t stop the looting and plundering that went on, but he did manage to divert a lot of attention from Nolie and her household. And with both Rysa and her father gone, Nolie took to wearing mourning and found thankfully that even the basest of human beings tended to respect that. The fact that her grief was palpable lent credence to the effect.
************
Finally the war ended and a concerted effort towards rebuilding began. It was then that society saw what changes time and war had wrought on humanity.
I was one of the few buildings left standing in town at the end of the war, and so much effort went into rebuilding that I was neglected for a while. Besides which Nolie was the rightful owner of the property and didn’t have the immediate wherewithal to take care of the repairs that were necessary to make me fully functional. It gave me a lot of time to watch and listen to the world around me, and I heard a good deal of Nolie’s story from the talk and gossip that made its way around town.
Almost a year after the war was over, my repairs were begun though I still didn’t see Nolie at all. Eventually I was offered for sale and purchased by a young couple that was anxious to become merchants. They spent several months converting the downstairs into a dry goods store and turning the upstairs area into their home. In 1866, some sixteen months after the end of the war, Sanders Dry Goods opened to the public, and life for me settled into a new routine. Then the unexpected happened....
************
It was early summer in 1867 when Nolie ventured into town for one of her rare visits. She had been luckier than many of her neighbors and had managed to hang onto her home and a bit of her land by sheer grit and determination. But she was no longer the pampered young lady she had once been and even with help her days were long and hard.
She’d come to an arrangement with the Negroes who’d remained with her, and they worked the land for her in return for small wages and a percentage of the crop. But that still left the house, yards and garden as Nolie’s responsibility, and she worked side by side with the help she had left to get things back in order after the war.
On this morning though, Nora Sanders had cajoled her into coming into the store for tea. The fact that she needed to come to town for supplies pushed her into agreeing, and Nolie found herself preparing for a trip into town.
Twiggy smiled as she watched her young mistress dress in one of the few nice dresses she’d kept from the days before the war, knowing it had been reworked to fit into the fashion of the day. Nolie had done a very credible job with it and looked very much like the belle she’d once been. Then General brought the buggy around to the front of the house and whisked Nolie away.
They went around to the back of the building where Nora and Sam kept a private entrance to their home. Nora welcomed Nolie into her home and immediately ushered her upstairs into the sitting room. Nolie looked around in honest curiosity; Nora’s home didn’t even vaguely resemble the bank building Nolie remembered.
The second floor was the kitchen and dining area and held Nora’s large sewing room where she tailored the shirts and dresses customers ordered in the store. The third floor held two bedrooms and the parlor, and it was here that the two women sat down to take tea.
Nora fussed and puttered about, making sure things were just right. She kept up a running dialogue so all Nolie had to do was nod her head occasionally. When she finally settled down Nora found Nolie to be a very quiet young woman whose eyes belied her youthful features.
Talk ran the gamut of topics, and Nolie and Nora found they had many opinions and philosophies in common. After an hour of tea and conversation, Nolie made a move to leave. Nora understood and accompanied her new friend downstairs and into the store to take care of her shopping.
Nolie looked around in fascination, still able to see in her mind’s eye the way the building had looked under her father’s keeping as a bank. The marble floors seemed incongruously out of place with the groceries and cloth and other supplies. She shrugged and turned her attention towards gathering up her purchases. As much as she had enjoyed her outing, Nolie found that sharing tea and conversation simply made her miss Rysa that much more, and she felt the tears building up in the back of her throat.
It had been more than three years since Rysa had left and everyday Nolie wondered what had become of her. She’d never heard anything else from nor about her and every night she offered up a prayer for Rysa’s safety.
Nolie moved slowly around the shop, picking up the items she needed and placing them in her basket. The jingling of the doorbell didn’t even catch her attention as she walked over to examine the bolts of cloth set to one side of the back.
Nora came round to help Nolie with the different types of material, and they were deep in conversation about dress patterns when the door jingled a second time. The third time it rang Nora and Nolie had moved behind the screen to lay out the pattern and measure it against Nolie’s small frame.
“You are quite busy,” Nolie commented as the door opened yet again to admit someone out of their line of sight.
“Yes,” Nora answered with a smile as she held up the pattern. “We’ve been very fortunate in that business has been steady for us.”
Nolie smiled softly in return. “I’m glad. You’ve been very kind to me.”
“Pure selfishness on my part, I’m afraid, my dear. I enjoy having a large circle of friends, and I’m happy you’re a part of it. Now,” she added smartly, “let’s see how much material you’ll need for this.”
In the meantime, business had picked up briskly as the end of the day arrived and folks made a stop on their way home. Nolie finished choosing her material and was just finishing up her shopping when the door jingled again. It wasn’t until the voice spoke though that she looked up in shock.
“Excuse me, sir,” the voice said gently. “I was wondering what happened to the bank.”
Sam smiled. Occasionally he still ran into the old-timer who remembered the building as the barrister’s or the bank. He figured the young woman in front of him had probably left because of the war and had come home to find so many things changed from what she remembered. He wasn’t far from the truth. He opened his mouth to answer but was forestalled when Nolie came around the corner. Neither woman noticed when Nolie’s basket slipped to the floor.
Nolie stepped back out of the embrace and looked at Rysa with a critical eye. Standing before her was a cultured young woman in a fashionable new gown whose bearing spoke of money. She stepped back again and dropped her head, suddenly ashamed of her appearance.
Rysa stepped right into Nolie’s personal space and lifted her chin with gloved fingertips. She waited until brown eyes lifted to meet her hazel. “No ‘Welcome home, Rysa’ for me, Nolie?” Rysa watched as a myriad of emotion crossed Nolie’s face before two tears welled up and spilled down her face, then she gently wrapped her arms around Nolie.
“Welcome home, Rysa,” Nolie whispered into the hug.
“C’mon, Nolie. Let’s go home. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
************
I saw Nolie a lot more often after Rysa came home though I never did get the whole story about what happened while they were apart. Usually they came in together and took tea with Nora before doing whatever shopping they needed to do. It was good to see them together again, and when Nora and Sam started having babies in the years that followed, Rysa and Nolie played godmothers to the Sanders’ three girls.
I remember thinking how well they looked together though parts of society tended to scorn them because of their spinster status. The Sanders’ continued to be good friends to them and they in turn watched out for the Sanders’ girls, Faith, Hope, and Charity.
But until the day that they passed away, Rysa and Nolie were beautiful women who took care of each other. I always wondered at the difference having Rysa and Nolie made in Faith’s life. I think hearing her story will help you understand what I mean.
Part 4
