I SAT UP STRAIGHT IN MY BED, GASPING FOR AIR. My heart raced so fast I felt it would rush right out of my chest.
Sunlight filtered into the room through the thin beige curtain.
Queen was back in her bed, curled into her covers like a baby who just got over the colic and could finally sleep. Since I hadn’t heard her sneak in and hadn’t heard Slick Charlie when he crowed, the dream, which felt so short, was obviously much longer.
Exhausted from the lack of sleep and the weariness of my worries, I forced my body off the bed and to the back room to use the pot. As I sat there, I realized that the aroma of coffee seeped through the walls, but its accompaniments—?the biscuits and the Sunday-morning salt pork—?were missing. Nor had Ma Pearl yelled for us to rise and shine.
I felt an ache in the pit of my stomach as I crept back to my room to dress. Fred Lee was still in bed. This was unusual for a Sunday morning. I threw a housecoat on over my nightgown and headed to the kitchen. My heart leaped when I saw Aunt Belle sitting at the table. Her hands were wrapped around a cup of coffee as she stared at Ma Pearl, who sat across from her. They were both silent.
As hot as it was in our house, I suddenly felt chilled. The looks on Aunt Belle’s and Ma Pearl’s faces immediately signaled something was wrong. I wrapped my housecoat tighter around my body and hesitantly crossed the threshold into the kitchen.
Aunt Belle’s head jerked in my direction even though I hadn’t made a sound.
I’m not sure why, but the first words out of my mouth were, “Where’s Papa?”
“Papa’s with Preacher,” Ma Pearl answered briskly.
“And Monty,” Aunt Belle added. Both of their expressions were tense.
I looked from face to face, confused. My thoughts raced. It’s Sunday morning. Ma Pearl didn’t wake her troops for church. Aunt Belle is here in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a chipped white mug filled with black coffee. Yet they both say to me, “Papa’s with Preacher. And Monty.”
Something wasn’t right. “How come Papa’s with Reverend Jenkins?” I asked, my voice quivering. “Something happened at church?”
Aunt Belle removed her right hand from the coffee cup and extended it toward me. “Come sit down,” she said quietly.
As I entered the kitchen, a jolt of nervousness attacked my stomach. I stumbled to the chair next to Aunt Belle and sat.
She took my hand and held it in hers. Her hand was warm from the coffee. “A Negro boy is missing,” she said.
My heart beat faster. “Hallelujah?”
Aunt Belle squeezed my hand. “No, sweetie,” she said, shaking her head, looking apologetic.
“It’s one of Mose Wright’s grandboys,” Ma Pearl interjected, her tone indifferent. “Down here from Chicago.”
“Nephew, Mama,” said Aunt Belle. “It’s his nephew that’s missing.”
“Missing?” I asked. “What you mean by missing?”
“We’re not sure,” answered Aunt Belle. “Monty’s cousin in Greenwood got a call early this morning from another cousin who lives near Money. Said he heard that two white men burst into Mose Wright’s house before day this morning and took the boy. Monty insisted on going there, so I called Reverend Jenkins to go with him. When Reverend Jenkins stopped by here to let Papa know there’d be no church today, Papa offered to ride with them and insisted I stay here with Mama.” She glanced at Ma Pearl, as if the idea repulsed her.
“My Papa?” I asked.
Ma Pearl glared at Aunt Belle. “To keep this gal from runnin’ over there.”
Mose Wright? The name sounded familiar. “Ain’t that the man you asked Monty if he was kin to?” I asked Ma Pearl.
Ma Pearl pushed her chair from the table and heaved herself to a standing position. “Um-hmm,” she said. “That’s him. And I bet you any ’mount of money, that boy of his was down here stirring up trouble, jest like this gal and her boyfriend is doing,” she said, glaring at Aunt Belle. “That NAACP nonsense go’n git us all kil’t.”
Aunt Belle’s forehead wrinkled. “This has nothing to do with the NAACP, Mama. I doubt that boy was old enough to know anything about the NAACP. But I can assure you, the NAACP will not let this thing go unnoticed. It’s time somebody put a stop to all this white terror.”