Mary, Just Mary Chapter Five

Ah, Chapter Five is done! As I mentioned before, it's shorter. My only problem with it is that the police uniforms are NOT recolorable (sadface), so you'll have to use your imagination and pretend the Sheriff's uniform is actually a sheriff's uniform. Anyway, onward!

The morning after my visit to the Miller's house, I woke after another night of restless sleep. I got dressed and walked out on the balcony. In the distance, I saw Margie and Ronald walking to the Fickley house hand-in-hand with the beautiful sunrise in the background like a scene from a movie. Normally they wouldn’t walk together, Ronald would drop Margie off a block away because Mrs. Fickley didn’t want his rusty old car anywhere near her house. She didn’t want Ronald anywhere near her house either. I smiled. Margie held out her hand, and I could tell that she was very happy with the ring he gave her. I quickly went downstairs to say hello to Ronald.

But he didn’t come in the house. Only Margie stepped through the front door.

“Margie!” I called.

“Up early again, Mary?” she asked.

“Where’s Ronald?”

“He’s going back to the Miller’s house. Why?”

“I wanted to say hello!” I said cheerfully.

“Mary, wait!” Margie said, but I already walked past her and out the door. Ronald was heading back to his car.

“Ronald!’ I called, and waved. I was curious about what Margie said once he gave her the ring. But he didn’t seem to hear me, and kept walking. I quickened my pace to catch up with him. He looked back at me for barely a second, then began walking faster as well. I walked faster to catch up with him, but he walked faster away from me in response. Pretty soon, both of us were at nearly a run and I wondered why he was running away from me.

A car pulled around the corner of the street. Ronald stopped dead in his tracks, allowing me to catch up.

“Ronald, why did you run away?” I asked. He didn’t answer, just stared at the car with a horrified look on his face. I looked at the car, and it was a police car. For a second, I was excited because I thought it was Jake, but there was an older officer inside the car. He stopped right next to us.

“Officer,” Ronald said. His voice sounded tight.

“Relax, son,” the policeman said. “You can go about your business.”

Ronald quickly walked to his truck, and I tried to go after him, but the policeman spoke again.

“You two probably shouldn’t be seen together in this neighborhood.”

My cheeks burned. “He’s not at all what people around here say he is! He is a good man, he goes to church, he works hard, and he loves his wife!”

“You misunderstand,” the man said. His voice was heavy. “I only mean…there’s a lot of people around here that’ll let their hatred cloud their judgment.” The policeman stepped out of his car and tipped his hat to me. “Name’s Matt Thompson, miss.”

“Thompson? Are you the county Sheriff?”

“Yes I am.”

“Jake Harper told me about you…” I said, trailing off when I remembered exactly what was said about the sheriff.

“Ah, you must be Mary. Jake told me about you, as well.”

“He did?” I asked excitedly.

"Mhm, and from what I hear you’re a very interesting young lady.”

“Well, I don’t know about interesting…”

“If I can be so bold, would you mind joining me at the diner for some breakfast? I usually eat alone but I sure would like the company.”

“Oh, I don’t know…I’m supposed to say here,” I said. Sheriff Thompson gave me a hopeful smile, and I smiled back at him.

“I’d love to,” I said.

Sheriff Thompson took me to a diner that was a few blocks away. Since it was breakfast time I ordered my favorite food, pancakes. Sheriff Thompson only ordered coffee.

"So, Jake Harper told you about me, did he?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'm guessing he told you about my son..."

"Y-yes..." I said hesitantly. "I'm sorry. It's a terrible thing that happened."

"Seems like the older you get, the more terrible things end up catching up to you."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Sheriff Thompson was quiet. The waitress came by and gave him his cup of coffee, and he drank it in silence for a moment.

“Young lady, I made a lot of mistakes in my life," he finally said after the long silence. "I know why Jake didn’t tell you what I done.” He leaned closer to me. “You’re looking into the eyes of a murderer.”

I was frozen with fear. The look on his face told me he was not joking. My eyes darted to the door, but I was trembling so much I couldn’t stand. Sheriff Thompson took a deep breath and rubbed his bleary eyes. My fear for my own safety changed to a fear of having to listen to another sad story. I was getting weary of the sadness. It weighed me down like a heavy blanket left out in the cold. The sheriff rubbed his forehead with his hand and sighed. He kept his head bent low.

“It’s been almost thirty years now, but I remember it like it happened yesterday. I was a young, sturdy man, just named sheriff of this town, and it was my duty to uphold the law and carry out justice. One of m’first cases was the rape of a pretty young lady named Bethany Perkins. She blamed the rape on her neighbor, a black kid named Jeremiah Bates. I took him to the jail, but folks didn’t want to wait for his trial. They was a hundred percent sure that boy did it. So was I. When the mob came for him, I let them take him.”

Sheriff Thompson took off his eyeglasses and rubbed his eyes. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking, but I wasn’t scared of him. I was scared of the rest of the story. I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to run away. But I couldn’t. I had to stay.

“Jeremiah didn’t say nothin’ in his defense. He didn’t yell when they was beatin’ him, kickin’ him, spittin’ on him. He didn’t struggle when they put that rope round his neck. The whole town was cheerin,’ m’self included. At that moment I never felt more right, more like I was doin’ what was right. I was upholdin’ the law, and carryin’ out justice. Couple months later, Bethany Perkins had her baby. Blonde haired, blue-eyed thing. Looked just like the man she was sweet on but her parents wouldn’t let her marry.”

“Jeremiah was innocent,” I said sadly. “You regretted his death then.”

“You think so? Well, honey, that’s where you’re wrong. I was so full of m’self I thought ‘If’n it weren’t rape it be somethin’ else later.’ Didn’t regret it for a second.”

“What made you change?” I asked.

“I didn’t have to face m’crime til years later. You see, God knows all your sins, and He won’t let you off with a few days in jail.”

Sheriff Thompson looked out the window. In the sunlight I saw pain fall across his face. I thought about the picture of Matthew sitting on Jake’s end table. Matthew would have that empty smile forever. His father would never see the real one again.

“I let an innocent boy die. I stole a child from his mother and father. God taught me…that pain. An eye for an eye. I couldn’t look at my own son after he died. He knows what I done now…I had Jake take his picture away.”

Sheriff Thompson pounded his fists on the table, and the silverware clattered. I gently placed my hands on his.

“I don’t think God is punishing you. I think…it’s just something tragic that happened. Like when Jake’s father died.”

“Yes…Sam Harper…that was terrible.”

“I’ve never lost anyone that was close to me so I can’t pretend to know how you feel. But I don’t think your son would want you to be so sad.”

"You're a good person, Mary. I'm glad to see that hate has no place in your heart. We need more people like you in the world...or there will be more Jeremiahs."
My stomach did a flip-flop. "You don't think something like that could happen to Ronald, do you?" I asked fearfully.

Sheriff Thompson didn't answer. He took another sip of his coffee.

That's why Ronald looked so scared...

Even at church...

It's not fair.

I couldn't think of anything else to say to the sheriff, so when my pancakes arrived I ate them as quickly as I could. He thanked me anyway for my time, paid for both our meals, and dropped me off at home. I expected Margie's morning chores, like doing the laundry and making sure Mrs. Fickley has fresh, clean clothes when she woke up, were done and she was working on breakfast for the Fickley's. I walked into the house quietly and slowly, weighed down by everything I just discovered. I walked over to the kitchen and saw Margie at the stove.

“Do you mind if I help?” I asked softly.

Margie smiled and shook her head. I slid up to the counter next to her and picked up a bowl that had flour, eggs, and butter in it, everything you needed for a pancake. Though it was my favorite food and I knew how to properly mix it, I took the spatula and ground it against the bowl so forcefully that some of the flour spilled onto the counter. Margie giggled at the sight.

“Not so hard, Mary, you’re gonna turn those pancakes into rubber,” Margie said.

I didn’t want her to realize that I was almost crying. Cooking was my therapy. I put everything I had into that bowl: confusion, fear, anger, more confusion, more confusion. I couldn’t get Sheriff Thompson’s face out of my head. The whole time I thought war was patriotic, important…even fun and it never occurred to me the obvious fact that people were dying in that war. Husbands, fathers, sons… And the cruelty that was running rampant even in our own country? I imagined Jeremiah Wilson, how terrified he must have been at the last moment of his life, a boy, a child.

All these horrible things were happening and I didn’t even know. What else don’t I know? Oh, God…

Margie stared silently at me for a moment.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Just…I didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had no idea how hard it was for you. And...how dangerous."

Margie laughed. “I have to admit, I was pretty scared when I saw that cop's car. Ronald and I have had our fair share of close calls."

I’m so sorry that I couldn’t understand.”

"You’re sorry for being a pretty white Northern girl who was shut out from the rest of the world? That ain’t your fault. And I think you understand more than you think.” I looked down at my feet. Margie sighed.

“You remember yesterday when Albert told you to cut your hair?” she asked me.

“Yes…?” I wondered why she was asking about that.

“How did that make you feel?”

“Well…I kinda wished that he would just let me do what I want with my hair.”

“I wish I could sit where I want on the bus. I wish I could eat where I want. I wish I didn’t have to be afraid of what would happen if I don’t. Jim Crow is the most controlling husband in America, with a million dark faced wives. Mary…you might not know exactly how I feel, but our problems come from the same place. Someone decidin’ that he know better than us. Someone havin’ to make himself feel big and strong by makin’ us feel small and weak.”

“Men are supposed to know better.”

“Who told you that?”

“My father.”

“Why he say that?”

“Eve was the first sinner. All women are like that, they’re gonna continue to sin if their fathers and husbands don’t keep an eye on them.”

“Mary, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I…I don’t know…”

“I know you don’t believe it.”

“But I have sinned. I…betrayed Albert, being with Jake.”

“Mista Albert ain’t your husband yet. And you should marry who you want.”

I pounded the pancake batter harder. Little globs flew off the wisk and landed all over the counter, but I kept pounding like my life depended on it. I imagined it was my heart in that bowl, and I was trying to beat my doubts right out of it. Sin or obedience? Love or marriage? Reality or fantasy? True love or heartache?

Jake or Albert?

Margie put her hand on my arm and I stopped pounding.

“Wives, obey your husbands, right?” I asked, trying to joke my way out of crying.

“And husbands, respect your wives,” Margie said softly. “Who respects you, Mary?”

“I…”

“Mary, my little bird, where are you?” I heard Albert call from the dining room. Margie took the bowl from me and continued preparing breakfast. I looked over at the doorway to the dining room and saw Albert walk in. He walked over to me and smiled. He held my hands and kissed my cheek. I wondered if he noticed that I was crying. I wondered if he would even care.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked. “You don’t have to cook anything here, I told you the housekeeper will take care of everything.”

“I know,” I replied. “I just wanted to help.”

I want to help but I don’t know how.

I want to help.

I want help.

“Something is bothering you, my flower. You need some cheering up,” Albert said without even looking at me. “Would you like to go to the store? I’ll buy you a pretty new dress. Remember that blue one you pointed out when we first got here? I’ll buy you that one.” He kissed my hand, still barely noticing me. I pulled my hand from his and shook my head.

“What about the bakery? We can get some of those apple pastries you love so much.”

“No, thank you,” I said. I didn’t want to talk to him, I wanted him to go away.

“Oh, come now. Don’t sulk. You’ll get wrinkles on that pretty face of yours. What is it that you want, Mary? I hate to see you so unhappy. I’ll get you anything you want.”

I looked at him. “Anything?”

“Anything, my dear.”

“I want to be unhappy.”

Albert furrowed his brown in confusion, then laughed. “Now, why would you want to be unhappy? That’s such a silly idea.”

“Maybe it is,” I said.

“Darling, are you feeling all right?”

Before I could answer, I heard the door open, letting in the excited chatter of women. One of the voices I recognized right away.

“Mary? Sweetheart, we’re here!”

Albert smiled at me and walked to the door. I followed behind him, but I couldn’t cheer up. I actually felt worse for a second.

“Hi, my little angel,” Mother said, pulling me into a hug. “We missed you.”

“Ah, Princess, you look just as pretty as ever!” Daddy said.

“Have you been enjoying your stay here?” Mother asked.

“Yes,” I said as convincingly as I could.

“Helen, Edward, have you eaten breakfast yet? We were just about to sit down,” Mrs. Fickley asked.

“No, Miranda, I simply cannot eat at hotel buffets,” Mother said.

“Well, then, we’ll make you an extra plate then!” Mrs. Fickley said. “Margaret!” she shouted harshly. I flinched.

Margie came running out of the kitchen.

“Yes, Ma’am?” she asked.

“Take Mr. and Mrs. Baker’s coats and hang them up! And hurry up with that food, we can’t wait around all day!” Mrs. Fickley said.

“Miranda, have some pity on the poor girl,” Mother said. As Margie took her coat, Mother pulled out her purse and gave Margie a dollar. “Here you go,” she said, smiling. Margie stared at my mother, looking a little confused. I motioned for her to take the dollar and to smile, and she did both. Mother smiled.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Margie said.

“You are very welcome,” Mother said.

Mrs. Fickley shook her head.

“Honestly, Helen, why do you insist on being so generous to the undeserving?” Mrs. Fickley asked.

“Oh, it’s just my way of making the world a little bit better,” Mother replied. She and Mrs. Fickley walked into the kitchen. Daddy gently stroked my hair.

“Ah, Princess, where does the time go? I can’t believe that you’re going to be married in a few days, then you’ll be all grown up,” Daddy said. “You won’t be my little girl anymore. Sometimes I wish you weren’t getting married, then you could be my little girl forever.”

Daddy pulled me into a hug, but I felt troubled.

“Come, sweetheart, let’s get something to eat,” he said.

“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled. “I’m going upstairs.”

“Well, dear, your mother wants to take you shopping. Victor is having a little get-together on his yacht on the fourth. You’ll get a nice new dress to wear for that, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?”

I’m not sure what I like anymore. I thought. But I smiled at my father and nodded. He went into the kitchen while I sought solace in my room.

There was one thing I was certain of. I knew I liked Jake. A lot. There was no use trying to deny this. The confusing part came from all my other feelings. I loved my family and I wanted to do the right thing. And this was the right thing, they told me so every day. But every time they told me, I believed them less and less. Albert didn’t look at me like John looked at Becky. That was what I wanted. Maybe it was a silly thing to hope for, but I wanted to see that look in the eyes of the man I marry.

My mother eventually came to my room and peeled me from my bed and my thoughts to go shopping. She insisted we have a little bit of fun before getting the last few things all set for the big day. Normally I loved shopping, but I just felt completely disconnected from the town, the stores, the dresses, and my mother’s hand around my wrist.

“I love these quaint little shops! They’re so…quaint!” Mother sighed happily. We picked one of the small clothing stores along the main road. It was pretty crowded already. Mother scurried across the store snatching dress after dress and setting them in my lap. She was like a hunter on a safari, or a pirate searching for treasure.

“Try this one, dear. Oh, and this one! I just can’t decide!”

I tried on dress…

After dress…

After dress…

Until we finally found one she liked.

“You look absolutely perfect, dear,” Mother said.

I stared at the imperfect perfection.

Mary, Just Mary Chapter One

On my wedding day…

Bells will ring

And choirs will sing

I’ll be dressed in white

And walk to the candlelight

My love will smile at me

I’ll be just as beautiful as can be—

“Mary!  Mary Ellen!  Come along, now!  We’re here!”

Mrs. Fickley's shrill voice startled me from my day dream, and I grabbed my purse and opened the car door. The long car drive had brought us to a beautiful white house in the countryside. The scenery was almost overwhelming. I heard the leaves rustling in the wind, birds singing, and there were gorgeous flowers everywhere. My fiancé, Albert, took my arm and smiled at me.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s lovely! This is your summer home?”

“Yes, it’s wonderful to get away from the noise and crowds of the city, isn’t it? Too bad all those coloreds are moving in so close. I wish there was something we could do to keep them out. I guess I’ll have to have a talk with the mayor sometime. But not now, my dear.” He kissed my hand and led me inside. Mrs. Fickley also came in, and immediately grumbled and threw her hands in the air.

“Oh, these housekeepers get more and more incompetent!” Mrs. Fickley pulled a little bell from her pocket and started ringing it. “Margaret! Margaret, where are you?” She hollered. A young colored woman came running down the stairs with her head down, apologizing profusely.

 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said in a small voice.

“When I get home, I expect someone to be here to take my coat!” Mrs. Fickley snapped, shoving her fox-fur jacket into the poor girl’s arms. “Don’t let it happen again!” I didn’t even know why Mrs. Fickley was even wearing that jacket. It was late May in the small southern town of Sharon, and a very hot day indeed. Margaret took Mrs. Fickley's jacket, glancing up at me shyly. I smiled at her, and she turned away, rushing to hang up the coat.

“Good help is so hard to find these days. Mary, dear, I apologize for her rudeness. I found her on the streets begging for work because her bum of a husband won’t support his family like a real man and this is the thanks I get.” Mrs. Fickley shook her head.

“Mary, my little flower, you must be exhausted. Would you care to take a rest in the guest room?” Albert asked me.

“That would be fine," I replied.

Albert escorted me to my room, which was up the stairs and down the hallway. I walked in and saw a beautiful room with rosy pink wallpaper, and a lovely bed, dresser, and vanity. It was a quaint room with colonial style decorations, almost exactly like my room at home. I smiled at how well Albert knew me, and how nice it was to make me feel so welcome here.

“Well, how do you like it?” Albert asked.

“Oh, it’s so gorgeous,” I said. He chuckled and patted my hand.

“Why don’t you get settled in, dear?” He kissed my hand again and went back downstairs, and I walked further into my room. The wallpaper was soft and beautiful, and the entire room was spotlessly clean. Even though she was a bit flaky, the housekeeper did do a good job. I glanced over and saw her hanging up our coats in the hallway closet. I walked to her and gave a bright smile.

“Hello. The house looks so clean. You do a fabulous job here.” The housekeeper stared at me blankly for a minute.

Hmm, maybe she’s deaf. I thought. That would certainly explain her not hearing Mrs. Fickley right away. I cleared my throat and smiled at her again.

“Hello. The house looks so clean. You do a fabulous job here. And I really—”

The girl frowned.  “Please excuse me, I have work to do.”  I stood as dumb as she did earlier as she walked past me. How rude!  She can’t even accept a compliment! I thought, wondering if everyone down south was like that.  I brushed my hair from my face, and my hand stopped just short of halfway through my thick blonde locks.  I tugged, and tugged again, and realized with horror that my ring was stuck, again!

“Oh, no!” I wailed.  I pulled harder, but the stone only wound tighter around my hair.  The sting of my hair being pulled brought tears to my eyes, and I ran into the den, crying.

“What’s wrong, love?” Albert asked.

“My ring is caught!” I sobbed.

“Again? Oh, Mary, you’re such a silly little girl!” Mrs. Fickley said. She came over to me and tried to unwind my hair from the ring. As beautiful as it was, sometimes I hated it. That ring would constantly get caught on my clothes and hair. But I couldn’t take it off. One time I tried, just for a while, but Mrs. Fickley got so angry. I didn’t like the idea of the ring getting tangled up in everything all the time. Mrs. FIckley called the housekeeper in to help untangle the ring. I kept crying.

“This is hopeless. Albert, get some scissors, we’ll cut it out,” Mrs. Fickley said.

“No!” I cried. “Not my hair!” I cried harder.

“Come now, don’t be such a child. It’s just hair.”

“Wait, I got it,” the housekeeper girl said. She pulled the last bit of my hair from it, and it was free. I sighed in relief.

“Well, how about that. Looks like you’ll keep your long hair, Mary,” Mrs. Fickley said. Albert came back in with the scissors, and laughed as I put the ring back on my finger.

“Mother, don’t tease her so much. You know how much she cares about how she looks. It’s her right.” He held my hand and wiped away my tears. “Calm down, dear. It’s all right.”

I wiped my tears and nodded at Albert, and he gave me a smile. I went back up to my room and sat at the vanity to brush my hair, which had become a little messy. I heard a faint knock on the door. “Come in,” I called, and the young housekeeper came into my room. I was a little annoyed to see her again but I remained polite. She did get my hair untangled, after all.

“Mrs. Fickley wanted to know if you needed anything else, Miss Baker,” she said.

“No, thank you, and, please, call me Mary. Just Mary.”

“Oh…all right, Mary.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m…Marjorie. Marjorie Ruby. But, you can call me Margie.”

“Margie? Then, why was Mrs. Fickley calling you ‘Margaret?’”

“I’m not sure,” Margie said in a tone that sounded a bit resentful, as if she really was sure but didn’t want to say. Hoping that I could patch things over with her, I decided to try another friendly conversation.

“Are you married?” I asked her.

“Yes, my husband’s name is Ronald. He’s a good man, a hard worker. But, he hasn’t been able to find a job yet around here. He wanted to buy me a nice house and a wedding ring, but…”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

Margie seemed surprised by my question, but looked past me and shook her head. “Please excuse me, I have to get to the kitchen and get dinner ready.” I turned around and saw who she was looking at. Albert walked into my room, laughing.

“My dear, you don’t need to be so kind to the help. This is why they’re here. You don’t want to make them lazy and unappreciative now, do you?” Albert patted my head and put his arm around me. “Come, your parents called.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed in excitement. My parents had been traveling in Italy on an extended vacation. I was unable to come because I had to prepare for the wedding, but Albert promised to take me all over Europe for our honeymoon, so I wasn’t terribly disappointed. I ran into the living room, where the phone was resting and I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Mary, dear? Is that you?” my mother asked.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“How are you doing, darling?”

“Fine. Albert and I just made it to their summer house.”

“How lovely. It was good of him to take you on a vacation since you couldn’t come with us.”

“I’m still going to Europe, on our honeymoon.”

“How wonderful, dear! You must be so excited. Where will you be going?”

“Oh, he told me France, Spain, Italy, all the interesting places.”

“You’ll love it here. The weather is so nice! It’s been sunny ever since we got here.”

“Really? It’s been very nice here too. Not a cloud in the sky. The only thing is that it’s really hot! I didn’t know it got so hot down here so early.”

“Yes, it is quite different from Vermont. But Mrs. Fickley has quite the flower garden at their summer home. We talked about it all day last week. Did you see it yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Maybe you can use some of her flowers for your bouquet. Have you gone to your dress fitting yet?”

“We’ll be going tomorrow.”

“That’s great. Well, your father wants to sleep, so, good night, dear."

“Mary! Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Fickley said.

“Goodbye,” I said before hanging up.

Albert joined me by the phone and I followed him into the beautiful dining room. Mrs. Fickley was already seated, along with two other men I hadn’t seen before. They stood up when we entered, and Albert extended his hand and shook both theirs.

“Mr. Moore, Mr. Ellis, thank you for stopping by. This is my fiancée, Mary Baker. Mary, this is Mr. Moore and Mr. Ellis, my new partners at the bank.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mary.” Mr. Moore said. “Ah, Albert, she is a vision of loveliness. You did well for yourself.”

“Please, sirs, have a seat. I’ll have our housekeeper bring you some coffee. Or tea, if you’d like,” Mrs. Fickley said. She pulled out a little bell from his jacket pocket and rang it, and Margie came out with a tray of drinks. Mrs. Fickley frowned at her, and her footsteps faltered.

“Where is the cream?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Margie said.

“I can get it!” I offered.

“You will not!” she said to me. “Go back in the kitchen and get it right now!” she snapped at Margie. Margie’s eyes welled up with tears and she darted back into the kitchen. It was a very difficult task to please Mrs. Fickley. Even I didn’t like spending long periods of time with my future mother-in-law. Mrs. Fickley shook her head.

“I just don’t get these people. I’m nothing but nice to them, yet they don’t appreciate anything I do! They’re all so brutish and impolite,” Mrs. Fickley said.

“Oh, I agree. I don’t understand why the government wants me to hire them in my offices. Would any of you trust them with that much money?” Mr. Ellis said.

“Absolutely not,” Albert said.

“And asking them to do all that paperwork, it’s just too much for them.” Mr. Moore added. “A few months ago I had an attempted murder trial on my hands! Can you imagine if my opening statement was written by a colored man?” I looked at Margie, who remained silent as she poured the coffee and served us our meals. Her expression was blank, like a statue. I felt sorry for her, and could understand why her mood was so sour towards me earlier.

“I remember a colored man worked at our corner store, he was very polite and always gave exact change—” I started, but Albert started laughing and patted my hand. Margie looked at me for a second, a glint of surprise were in her eyes for barely a second.

“Ah, yes, I know men’s talk is boring to you, my little flower. Shall we discuss something else then, like our wedding?” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a little box. I opened it, and inside was a gorgeous gold ring, one that matched my engagement ring perfectly. I gasped and smiled at Albert, and he took the ring and put it on my hand. I held out my right hand, admiring the new ring.

“But, Albert, you already gave me an engagement ring.”

“I know, darling. But this is a promise ring. I promise that I will make all your wishes come true,” Albert said. I blushed as he kissed my hand, feeling so flattered that he would give me such a beautiful gift. I admired my ring just as Margie walked by, heading back towards the kitchen. I watched her go back into the kitchen, and I felt like I had to do something. I had to help Margie somehow. I looked into Albert’s warm eyes, and I knew he would understand.

“Albert, darling, I need to ask you something,” I whispered. No sooner had I said that, Mr. Moore and Mr. Ellis stood up from their chairs, and Albert stood up and walked towards them. He let go of my hand.

“Thank you for coming today. I promise you we’ll have a most profitable year,” Albert said.

“Thank you for inviting us. Good day, Madam Finney. Miss Baker.” Mr. Ellis said. The two men walked out towards the door, grabbing their coats and hats from the coat rack. Mrs. Finney stood up, yelled for Margie to clean up, then walked over towards us.

“What fine gentlemen they were, don’t you agree, Mary?” she asked me. I didn’t think they were fine at all for what they had said, but I nodded slowly.

“Yes,” I murmured.

“Good. I’m going to have the rest of my tea in the den. She walked to the den, and I turned to Albert. It was the perfect time to ask him my question.

“Albert, dear, I have something I need to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Mary. I know how bored you get at my formal dinners. You’re so skittish, like a kitten. We’ll work on that together,” he smiled at me, taking both my hands. “You’re so much like a child, it’s one of the things I love about you.”

“What? No, Albert, I—”

“Good night, my dear.” He let go of my hands and walked upstairs, I watched silently as he left. I heard Margie's soft footsteps as she came back into the dining room and collected the dishes carefully. I followed her to the kitchen.

“Need some help?” I asked.

“Why are you acting like this? You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me,” she said crossly.

“But…I’m not pretending.”

“I don’t know what’s worse. Those white men talking like that or you acting like Merry Miss Sunshine.”

“I’m very sorry about what they were saying. I wish I could get them to stop. I wish…they would listen…” My words trailed off as I thought of my parents. I loved them dearly, but they never listened to me. Everything had to be done their way, and I had to do everything I could to be the perfect daughter. I suddenly felt very empty. Margie turned around and looked at me.

“Well, the good book says ‘blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.’” she said as she started to smile.

“The book also says ‘love thy neighbor as yourself.’” I said.

“You would…call me your neighbor?” she asked.

“Of course. I hope we can be friends as well.”

“Hm. Maybe I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”

“About you.”

I stood still as she turned toward the door and walked away, wondering what she meant. For some reason, I didn’t feel insulted or angry. She stopped for a second, then turned back to me.

“Well, tomorrow is Sunday, and I don’t have to work. Would you like to come to church with me and Ronald, neighbor?”

“I’d love to!”

“Great! The church is just down the road from here, it’s the Riverview County Methodist Church. We’ll be looking for you.”

So, on Sunday morning, I wore my favorite blue dress and tied my hair back. I knew that neither Albert nor Mrs. Fickley would approve of me going to a colored church, so I snuck out the back door and briskly walked down the street, glancing behind me to see if I was being followed. Albert and Mrs. Fickley hated getting up early on Sunday mornings, since the medicine Mrs. Finney took every day made it difficult for her to get up in the morning, so I was quite safe from being discovered. It felt strangely good to be so sneaky. I was filled with confidence.

Confidence, that vanished entirely when I walked into the church. Every eye was fixed on me. Some looked confused, others glared harshly at me, but most stared blankly as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. My steps became slower and slower and my heart beat faster and faster. I was just about to turn around and head back out the door when I heard a familiar voice.

“Mary! Oh, Mary, there you are. We didn’t know if you were coming!” Margie walked over to me and gave me a hug. The tall man beside her gave me the same blank stare as the majority of the other worshipers in this church.

“Hello, Margie,” I said.

"Oh, Ronald, this is Mary Ellen. Mary, this is my husband Ronald,” Margie said.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said to Ronald.

Ronald was still for a moment.

“Margie, honey, you didn’t tell me she was…”

“Such a lovely lady?” Margie finished in a slightly warning tone. Ronald smiled nervously.

“Very lovely, yes, dear.”

“Well, let’s sit down,” Margie said. I heard hushed whispers as Margie, Ronald, and I took our seats. The preacher watched us, looking very thoughtful. He cleared his throat and raised his hands.

“Good morning. Let us start this day by thanking the Lord for this glorious morning, when we can all come together as brothers and sisters, for we are all children of God. Would you please rise and open your hymnals to page 133, as we celebrate the love of Jesus Christ.”

This church was different from any other I had ever seen. There was so much joy as the worshipers clapped and danced to the music. Nobody sang louder or danced quite like Margie, and I could see how much she loved God, despite everything she had to go through. The pastor’s sermon was about the verses John 16:19 and Matthew 25:34.

"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.”

I looked down at my two gold rings and felt ashamed. I had all these wonderful things and Ronald…poor Ronald couldn’t even buy his wife a wedding ring. The pastor concluded his sermon with a prayer. As he prayed for the good people in his church, I prayed that someone could help my new friends…somehow.

The service concluded, and people started to get up to leave. I went outside with the Rubys and light conversation filled the air as people talked about their families, jobs, and the good Lord. I enjoyed the somewhat melodious hum, coupled with the birds singing in the trees nearby, but it suddenly fell silent. I looked out the open doors of the church and saw a dirty red Ford truck pulling into the lot, and a white man got out of it. The conversation completely halted as he neared. Just like with me, every eye was on him. I couldn’t help but stare myself, but for a completely different reason.

He wore a blue checkered shirt and jeans with cowboy boots.  His hair was the color of dust when it gets kicked up and floats in the sun.  I suddenly felt faint, and my heart was racing.  I knew it was wrong for me to feel that way, but at the time I couldn’t care less.

Our eyes met, just for a few seconds, but it was all the time I needed.

Coming back to my senses, I looked down and scolded myself for being attracted to another man.  I wrapped my fingers around my engagement ring, remembering my other commitment.

“Good morning, officer,” Pastor Parrish said.

“Good morning. I wanted to stop by and see how everyone was doing,” the man said.

“There ain’t been no trouble lately. And everyone is just as eager as ever to be in the house of the Lord.”

“That’s good. I’m very sorry the investigation didn’t go anywhere.”

“Hey, it’s gonna take more than bricks to get people too scared to come worship."

“What happened?” I asked.

“Last week, someone threw a brick through the window during a service, but no one was hurt. We think it’s some neighbors around here that weren’t too pleased when this church was built.” Pastor Parrish explained.

“That’s horrible.”

“I think what’s horrible is that nobody at the squad wanted to do anything about it,” the man grumbled.

“Well, thanks for stopping by, Officer Harper.  It…really means a lot to us.”  Pastor Parrish cleared his throat.  “Ahem. I have to thank Mr. Jameson for those wonderful hymnals that he donated to our church.  Please excuse me,” Pastor Parrish walked back toward the church.

“Oh, where are my manners,” the man said in a frustrated tone. “Jake Harper, ma’am. If I had a hat, I’d tip it to you.”

His smile made my heart skip a beat. I couldn’t even say my own name as an introduction to him. All I could do was giggle like a silly schoolgirl. I saw another police car had pulled up behind Jake Harper, and a very mean looking officer in uniform was walking toward us. Jake’s face turned to a look of concern for Ronald and Margie. Ronald put her arms around Margie and they looked nervously at the police officer, then at me. The officer’s eyes were fixed on Ronald.

“Harper, you better have a good reason for being here,” the officer said coldly.

“I was just…checking up on—”

“I already told you, the case is closed.”

 

“Yes, lieutenant,” Jake Harper’s voice tightened, as did his fists.

“So, is there a problem here?” the officer asked Ronald, still glaring at him like a mean grizzly.

“N-no sir.” Ronald said.

“What business do you have with a girl like her?” the officer nodded towards me.

“I—I…”

“Um, she’s with me, lieutenant. She’s my…uh…cousin from out of town, sir,” Jake Harper said. My…cousin…”

“Mary,” I finished for him. “Mary Ellen.”

“Cousin, huh? Well,” the officer lowered his voice, “You might not want to have your cousin out and about in this neighborhood, Harper.” The officer turned and started walking away, nodding politely to me and glaring at Ronald as he walked away.

“Thank you for doing that, sir,” Ronald said. “I was sure he was gonna haul me in the can.”

“Not a problem. And, call me Jake.” He smiled at me again. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mary Ellen.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Jake, dear, would you mind taking Mary Ellen back home? Nothing safer than a police escort for a young lady, wouldn’t you agree, Ronald?” Margie said, her face breaking into a shrewd smile. Ronald stared at her.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” I said.

“It’s no trouble at all, miss,” Jake said.

“You can call me Mary,” I said.

“Just Mary,” Margie finished for me. We giggled together. “Well, we have to get going now. Goodbye, Mary. Goodbye, Jake.”

“Goodbye!” I said. I looked back at Jake, and he led me to his red truck. It was speckled with dirt, not nearly as clean or fancy as Albert’s car, but I still liked it. Jake looked a little embarrassed by it.

“Sorry about the mess. These dirt roads and the rain…”

“Oh, it’s okay.”

“So, ‘Just Mary,’ have you ever driven a truck like this before?” Jake asked me.

“No, my father never allowed me to drive any cars,” I said. “He always thought driving was too complicated for me. He said I daydream too much.”

“Well, let me teach you. It’s not complicated at all. We can drive to my house first, it’s just down the road.” He opened the driver’s side door, and held out his hand. My face flushed when his smile caught the light from the sun. I hesitantly put my hand in his, and he helped me into the car. I was in the driver’s seat, and Jake sat in the passenger side.

“Ok, so in front of you is the steering wheel, that’s pretty simple, right?”

“Mhm,” I turned the wheel back and forth and the tires scraped on the gravel underneath.

“This right here is your gear shifter. Pull it down like this to go into first gear. The pedal to your far right is the gas, and the wider pedal to the left is your brake. Now, just push down on the brake and put it into first gear.”

I pulled the knob and the car made a terrible scratching noise. I jumped and gasped in surprise.

“Don’t forget the brake,” Jake said, chuckling. I held down the brake and pulled the knob again, and the car started to roll slowly. I turned the wheel, and the car was back on the road.

“Hit the gas,” Jake said. I pushed down on the accelerator, and the car made the loud scratching noise again.

“Ok, now put it in second gear, like this. Hold down the brake.” I held down the brake and he pulled the knob downward, and when I hit the accelerator the car began speeding up.

“Am I driving?” I asked.

“Yes, you’re driving, Mary. My house is just down the road from here,” Jake smiled at me, and I could barely contain my excitement. I was driving, something my father or Albert never allowed me to do. My parents worried that I would get hurt, and Albert always wanted to use his chauffer.

“This is so easy,” I said. Jake chuckled, and my heartbeat sped up even more. He had such a friendly laugh. I saw a big, blue house in the distance. As we got closer, I saw how beautiful it was.

“Okay, we’re coming up on my house, now, hit the brake and turn slowly,” Jake said. I pushed down on the pedal, but it wasn’t the right one. We lurched forward instead of slowed down. The car’s gears ground again.

“Mary. Mary! The brake! Hit the brake!”

I slammed on the other pedal, closing my eyes in fear, and the car grinded and groaned, and I heard a “CLUNK!” followed by a “SNAP!” The car slowed to a stop. Jake quickly shifted the gears and got out of the truck and surveyed the damage. I bit my lip nervously and got out of the truck. Underneath it was a broken wooden plank, and Jake was holding a very flat piece of metal with a sad little red flag on it.

“Hm. Gone down in the line of duty,” Jake mused.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I’ll buy you a new mailbox! I promise!” I cried.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it. Nobody got hurt, that’s the most important thing. Well, nobody except my mailbox here,” Jake chuckled and tossed the mailbox aside. “You did great for a first try. We’ll just have to try again later.”

“Later?” I asked. My thoughts immediately turned to Albert, who was probably wondering where I was. If he found out I was with another man, especially someone I barely knew, he’d be furious. For the first time in my life, I was sad about having to go back to him. I ran my fingers across my diamond ring, and it felt so strange on my hand.

I didn’t want to go home.

But I had to.

“I--I need to go home, Jake. My…my fiancé is probably wondering where I am.” I said softly. Jake’s smile faded. He rubbed his brow and nodded to me.

 

“Here, I’ll…take you home,” he said.