Read Online When I Crossed No-Bob by Margaret McMullan - Free Book Online
Authors: Margaret McMullan
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about Jess?" I whisper to Little Bit. We are all supposed to be quiet now, thinking and praying. Jess Still lays in a pine box in front of us. They made his coffin at home and blackened it with soot. We have services outside because the schoolhouse was this town's one building and it is now burned to the ground.
Little Bit thinks some. "When he was littler, he used to leave out the
g
's on all his
-ing
words."
I am both glad and sad to know this about my friend.
The black folks sing and it is slow and sad, the pitifullest and mournfullest song I ever heard. Mr. Frank and his parents, Miss Irene, Little Bit, Jack, and me are the only white folks here. Mr. Frank's ma and pa brought Early Rise a ham. They said they didn't know what else to doâthey felt so terrible bad for Early Rise and her husband, Sunny. They said they know what it is to lose a son.
The preacher is the preacher from that night, a black man who speaks in a calm, quiet way. No shouting, ranting or raving, or speaking in tongues the way I seen some preachers do. He just speaks to us, like he is talking to me personal and from
his heart. Like he's talking to his brother or his sister, his son or his daughter, like he cares.
I look at each of the people as they come up to say goodbye to Jess Still. There is a former slave woman named Please Cook with her son, Deuteronomy. She puts a kerchief inside Jess's open coffin. A man named John Calhoun steps up, kneels down on one knee, and stays with Jess for some time.
Little Bit whispers to me about Mr. Calhoun. Before the war was over, his mistress agreed to grant Mr. Calhoun freedom for one thousand dollars. Mr. Calhoun worked after he'd finish his day's work. He was good with his hands and made walking sticks and split rails by moonlight. On days off he made cabinets and sold them to the white people. He saved nine hundred dollars and gave it to his owner, but before he could make an additional one hundred dollars, the slaves were freed. Without asking, Mr. Calhoun's mistress gave him a deed to forty acres of land, because, she said, that's what he had paid for. I suppose she thought she was doing right by Mr. Calhoun, but what if he didn't want the land at all? What if he just wanted to leave?
Mr. Calhoun stands and places a little hand-carved wooden ark in Jess's right hand.
I recognize some from the schoolhouse, others I don't.
There is the black man without a hand. Heard tell he was trying to read and write and his master cut his hand off. He's carrying a Bible with his one hand and he reaches in and leaves that book with Jess. They all have something to give Jess, for where he's going in that sweet afterlife, there's no telling what he'll need.
Then the people sing "Been Toilin' at the Hill So Long" while Jess's momma lays a new asafetida bag in Jess's left hand.
I'm so sad I can't cry.
It is like I see them all for the first time and my heart is heavy, heavy with hurt and worry for what I seen, what I see now, and what I know. This feeling I have is bigger than the sad feeling I have had for Momma and Pappy. I grieve so much that my heart feels heavy in my breast.
"Are you for religion?"
"Well, sure I am, Addy," Little Bit whispers.
"Is there a heaven for colored people?"
"I suppose there is."
"What's it look like?"
"Can't rightly tell. Never been to any of the heavens. And I'm in no hurry neither."
"Y'all need to hush," little Jack says.
The O'Donnells, we don't bury our dead on public
ground. We bury our dead on our own farms. The land is tilled over our graves.
Little Bit and I get to talking about ghosts. I say Jesus came back and spoke to his friends, the Apostles, after he died. Didn't that make him a ghost? Little Bit says it makes him a holy ghost.
"Do you hear them talking during prayers?" little Jack says to his ma, trying to get me and Little Bit in trouble.
The night of the fire, after I put Jess Still before her, Early Rise took her son and had him stretched out just
Little Bit thinks some. "When he was littler, he used to leave out the
g
's on all his
-ing
words."
I am both glad and sad to know this about my friend.
The black folks sing and it is slow and sad, the pitifullest and mournfullest song I ever heard. Mr. Frank and his parents, Miss Irene, Little Bit, Jack, and me are the only white folks here. Mr. Frank's ma and pa brought Early Rise a ham. They said they didn't know what else to doâthey felt so terrible bad for Early Rise and her husband, Sunny. They said they know what it is to lose a son.
The preacher is the preacher from that night, a black man who speaks in a calm, quiet way. No shouting, ranting or raving, or speaking in tongues the way I seen some preachers do. He just speaks to us, like he is talking to me personal and from
his heart. Like he's talking to his brother or his sister, his son or his daughter, like he cares.
I look at each of the people as they come up to say goodbye to Jess Still. There is a former slave woman named Please Cook with her son, Deuteronomy. She puts a kerchief inside Jess's open coffin. A man named John Calhoun steps up, kneels down on one knee, and stays with Jess for some time.
Little Bit whispers to me about Mr. Calhoun. Before the war was over, his mistress agreed to grant Mr. Calhoun freedom for one thousand dollars. Mr. Calhoun worked after he'd finish his day's work. He was good with his hands and made walking sticks and split rails by moonlight. On days off he made cabinets and sold them to the white people. He saved nine hundred dollars and gave it to his owner, but before he could make an additional one hundred dollars, the slaves were freed. Without asking, Mr. Calhoun's mistress gave him a deed to forty acres of land, because, she said, that's what he had paid for. I suppose she thought she was doing right by Mr. Calhoun, but what if he didn't want the land at all? What if he just wanted to leave?
Mr. Calhoun stands and places a little hand-carved wooden ark in Jess's right hand.
I recognize some from the schoolhouse, others I don't.
There is the black man without a hand. Heard tell he was trying to read and write and his master cut his hand off. He's carrying a Bible with his one hand and he reaches in and leaves that book with Jess. They all have something to give Jess, for where he's going in that sweet afterlife, there's no telling what he'll need.
Then the people sing "Been Toilin' at the Hill So Long" while Jess's momma lays a new asafetida bag in Jess's left hand.
I'm so sad I can't cry.
It is like I see them all for the first time and my heart is heavy, heavy with hurt and worry for what I seen, what I see now, and what I know. This feeling I have is bigger than the sad feeling I have had for Momma and Pappy. I grieve so much that my heart feels heavy in my breast.
"Are you for religion?"
"Well, sure I am, Addy," Little Bit whispers.
"Is there a heaven for colored people?"
"I suppose there is."
"What's it look like?"
"Can't rightly tell. Never been to any of the heavens. And I'm in no hurry neither."
"Y'all need to hush," little Jack says.
The O'Donnells, we don't bury our dead on public
ground. We bury our dead on our own farms. The land is tilled over our graves.
Little Bit and I get to talking about ghosts. I say Jesus came back and spoke to his friends, the Apostles, after he died. Didn't that make him a ghost? Little Bit says it makes him a holy ghost.
"Do you hear them talking during prayers?" little Jack says to his ma, trying to get me and Little Bit in trouble.
The night of the fire, after I put Jess Still before her, Early Rise took her son and had him stretched out just
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