Chapter 20
May 31, 1936
Belle caught me in Richard’s room today, looking for clothes I could take to Samuel. I miss my brother, but he is gone. His clothes should go to someone who needs them. Richard would have wanted that. He was not greedy like Papa.
“Get what you need and get out,” Belle whispered. “Before you get caught, and we both suffer from it.”
“You won’t tell, will you?”
“No, Angel.” Her gaze melted into something softer, more loving. She had always called me Angel.
“But, I’ve seen yous sneakin’ around,” she said, her voice still low. “What are you up to? Does it have somethin’ to do with that boy Jo’s been seein’ ’round? You know your Papa won’t allow it.”
“But I like him,” I pleaded.
“Don’t matter what you like. I likes pretty dresses and look at this rag I’m wearin’. Your Papa will never allow it. He’s meaner than a serpent of Satan’s.” She pointed her finger at me. “And if yous knew what was best for you, yous would leave that boy alone. If your Papa find’s out that boy’s as good as dead.”
The screen door slammed, and I heard Papa’s voice carry through the hall downstairs. My heart raced and hands trembled as I reached for the clothes in Richard’s dresser. “Help me,” I begged.
Belle took the bag from me and opened it wide. I stuffed a few shirts, underwear, and socks in the sack, as well as a pair of pants then went to yank the bag from her.
“Don’t forget that.” She pointed to the top of the dresser where I had placed food and art supplies. I had taken the provisions from Papa’s office, praying he’d never notice.
I shoved the fruit, crackers, and other articles in the bag. With the carrier stuffed so full, I struggled to fasten the flap as heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs.
I sucked in a deep breath and glanced around, frightened. How could I escape without him seeing me?
“Go child.” Belle shoved me. “Take the servant’s stairs.”
I did as she commanded, turning the corner of the hallway and pushing through the door to the stairs before Papa made it to the top step. On my way out, I grabbed a blanket and then ran as fast as I could to the tree.
Samuel was there, standing underneath the gnarled limbs, waiting for me. His smile animated his whole face and caused me to still. My heart swelled for him. The excitement of our relationship was more than I’d ever experienced.
He reached for my hand and pressed his lips to the top. My fingers tingled from his kiss.
“What’s in here?” He took the items from me and tossed the blanket over his shoulder before holding up the bag.
“For you. Food, clothes, and more paper.”
When he opened the flap and stared at the bounty, a saddened expression crossed his features. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.”
“I should be giving you things. Not the other way around.” He closed the flap of the bag and handed it back to me.
I had insulted him. How stupid of me. Yet, the motion of him pushing the garment back toward me laid heavy on my chest—no one so young, besides my sister, had ever been as nice to me as Samuel.
Tears formed in my eyes as my chin trembled. “Please. Accept them.” I shoved the goods back. “You have given me so much already. Take them. I have nothing else to give you.”
He wiped my tear away with the pad of his thumb, staring at me with an intensity I’d never seen before. His hand resting so close to my nose, I could smell the undercurrent of pencil shavings and charcoal. Between the aroma of him and the intensity of his gaze, dare I call it adoration, euphoria washed over me and a feeling of safety I hadn’t felt since momma had been alive.
“You have given me so much already, hope, joy, the gift of your presence.” He held my gaze. “I’ll accept what you’ve given me as long as you allow me to return the favor one day.”
“Yes.” I nodded and sucked back my tears, no longer tears of sorrow, but joy as well. He wanted to see me more. No one has ever wanted to spend more time with me.
“Walk with me.” He took my hand and led me toward the tracks.
Mesmerized by this mysterious boy, I did as he asked.
We walked a little ways before he spread out the quilt, and I removed the food from the bag for a picnic by the pond. The sun shone down on us, the rays overhead peppering our skin with its heat, but I didn’t care how hot it was. I sat beside him silently, happily, my legs outstretched, embracing the moment as a slow, easy breeze blew my hair back, and the safety I felt in his presence warmed me more than the sun’s rays. His skin, the cleanest I’d ever seen it, let me know he must have bathed in the pond, and I wondered how often he used ponds as his bathing supply. How long had he been a drifter?
We’d seen each other a few times now, and not once had he mentioned any family. I found that with each passing night we were apart, I laid awake thinking of him. I wanted to know everything about him, so I asked, “Where is your family?”
His jaw twitched with the answer. “My parents are dead.”
I winced at the sorrow in his tone, but understood all the same. “I’m sorry. My mother is also dead.”
“I’m sorry as well, but…can we please not talk about this? Not now.” Another pained expression crossed his features.
I nodded. I understood not wanting to talk about death. Every time I thought of my mother, I asked God why it couldn’t have been my father instead. I knew these were evil thoughts, but I was my father’s daughter—perhaps some of his malice rippled down to me.
I shuttered at the thought of being anything like my father.
“How did you end up here?” I asked, turning the conversation back to Samuel.
“The past six months, I’ve been hitching rides on the freight trains, earning wages, doing odd jobs, and selling my art.” He bit into a piece of bread. “I heard about a ship from a newsie when I was in Atlanta. The SS Normandie.” He’d said the name of the ship like it was a wish. The thing that would make all his problems go away.
If only a boat could’ve done that for me.
“It’s going to sail back to Paris from New York in July,” he continued. “My dream is to go to Paris and sell art. I was waiting on the north-bound train when I met you.”
“The night train.”
“Yes.”
A cloud moved, offering a bit of reprieve form the bright rays that continued to sink lower in the sky. I needed to return home, the position of the sun telling me my time was almost up, but with each visit, I found it harder and harder to leave Samuel. Gentry, Lila’s courter, and his family were coming for dinner, and father wanted me to look my best. Despite knowing I needed to dress, I still didn’t want to part from Samuel just to go sit at a table with people I didn’t know, doting on how perfect Lila and Gentry would be together. They made a handsome couple, and I was happy for my older sister, but what I wanted was to be right here, lying on this same blanket next to Samuel.
With regrets, I sighed. “I have to leave.”
He stood and reached for my hand. After he helped me to my feet, he pulled me closer.
“Samuel, what—”
“Shh.” He placed a finger on my lips. The previous sorrow in his gaze had disappeared, replaced with one of curiosity and excitement. The blanket shifted under our feet as the tips of our shoes touched.
My senses heightened with our nearness, as the world whooshed and buzzed around me. Slowly, he leaned his head closer, and I thought my heart might explode as my stomach flipped at the first touch of his lips. My brain hummed with fear of being caught, as my limbs shook from excitement of Samuel’s body pressed to mine. I closed my eyes and explored the feel of his mouth, wet and soft. He pushed his tongue through my closed part, and I gasped. I tried to pull back, for I had never been kissed, but he gently placed his hand on the back of my head and drew me closer, our mouths locked. I relaxed my shoulders and leaned into him more, allowing myself to enjoy new sensations as they coursed through me, never wanting the moment to end.
When he pulled away, I let out a slow breath, my lips tingling.
Samuel flashed a smile, and heat seared my cheeks, happy from our kiss and embarrassed I had mucked it up all at the same time.
“I’m sorry if I messed up. I’ve never kis—”
He placed his finger over my lips again, his smile staying in place. “You’re wonderful, Myrtle. Our kiss was wonderful.”
And it was. The first thing I thought about in the morning and the last thing I thought about at night was Samuel. His smile, his hands when he drew me, the way his hat sat ever so crooked on his head, and his kiss would be something else I would constantly think about.
Feeling bold after our embrace, and wanting to experience the foreign sensations all over again, I asked, “Please, kiss me again?”
“You’ll never have to ask, Myrtle.”
He pulled me back into his arms, holding me closer for longer.
After, as I ran back home, the tingles that started in my fingers had radiated all the way to my toes…
Even as I write this entry, I still feel the warmth of Samuel around me. But now, I must push these girlish feelings aside to get ready for our company. I feel different than I did before I left the house. I hope Papa does not notice.