When I Crossed No-Bob Read Online Free
Author: Margaret McMullan
brother to me."
Little Bit goes on like she's telling me some once-upon-a-time story. "Pa and Frank walked Buck to the river Strong. Pa give Buck a pair of eyeglasses and his freedom papers and then he crossed over."
"Pa
gave
Buck," Mr. Frank says.
"He's in New York City now," Little Bit goes on.
"They say that when a person crosses that river called Strong, the Lord gives you what you want," Mr. Frank's pa says. "When we were there, I told the Lord I don't want nothing much, only to get back home. And here we are."
Mr. Frank smiles and makes a toast to his pappy. I nod, wondering about this family. What crazy people set their slaves free before the fighting was over?
We eat the pickled peaches and I say to myself,
These here peaches are now my favorite food.
I clear the table while Miss Irene and Mr. Frank's ma clean up in the kitchen. Miss Irene says she's sorry because she doesn't have enough sugar for the coffee. She sent me over before noon to borrow a cup from a neighbor, and the neighbor
lady sent the sugar back with me with a note saying to pay back in full measure. Miss Irene sent me to take the sugar back.
"That woman will not lecture me on rules of conduct," Miss Irene says to Mr. Frank's ma, who has a nice, gentle laugh.
I serve the men their coffee on the porch and listen to their talk about Mr. Frank starting a general store. He's saying how hard it is for people in the county to get things. He says they have to drop everything just so they can go to New Orleans or Montgomery for three days when he could get a whole lot of things himself, bring it back, then sell it all off for a profit. It's such a fine idea, I can hardly believe someone else hasn't thought it up.
Mr. Frank's pa talks about a store that opened on the Taylorsville-Williamsburg road. The owner hung a coffeepot over his door and served coffee made with fresh spring water and beans from New Orleans, using molasses drippings to sweeten it. A person could get either long or short sweetening, but no cream.
"Well, there's no post office here that's accessible and folks like a place to sit and talk," Mr. Frank's pa says. He says he'll back him and they clink coffee cups to seal the deal.
Mr. Frank's pa leans on the porch pole, itching his stump while he looks me over. He moves slow. I know that he lost his
arm in the war. Everyone has a story. But I'm not clear how the big story really started. All I know is that they were mad about something so they had a war.
"You could have this girl, Addy, do your work in a few years. Like Buck."
"She's not a slave, Pa."
I stand still while the two of them look me over.
"And she's not staying here forever."
As the day closes and Momma still doesn't come, I can see Mr. Frank making his surmising that Momma never did plan on coming back. If it were all up to him, I know he'd turn me loose. But he's aiming to please Miss Irene.
Momma knew what she was doing.
"Addy," he says after his pa, his ma, Little Bit, and Jack leave. "You don't need to be doing boys' work outside. Miss Irene will teach you to help out with the washing, ironing, baking, and the common et cetera of the house."
I know that Mr. Frank does not want me around him. Outside, he can be alone.
After he leaves the house, I have to ask Miss Irene if Mr. Frank always talks like a schoolteacher. "And who et Zet up?"
Miss Irene laughs, says for me to never mind, then shows me about rolling out dough because tomorrow it's baking day.
I miss Momma, but I am glad that Momma's misery weren't no catching sickness. Mr. Frank and Miss Irene have been nothing but good to me and this makes me feel growed up and good myself. They make me want to do right. I am not hungry either and I feel quicker and not so mad. I try to remember the word for what I am feeling. And then I recall.
Happy.
I am happy.
Chapter 3
From May to September I work hard to prove to Mr. Frank that me and all the other O'Donnells aren't the lazy, mean good-for-nothings he
Little Bit goes on like she's telling me some once-upon-a-time story. "Pa and Frank walked Buck to the river Strong. Pa give Buck a pair of eyeglasses and his freedom papers and then he crossed over."
"Pa
gave
Buck," Mr. Frank says.
"He's in New York City now," Little Bit goes on.
"They say that when a person crosses that river called Strong, the Lord gives you what you want," Mr. Frank's pa says. "When we were there, I told the Lord I don't want nothing much, only to get back home. And here we are."
Mr. Frank smiles and makes a toast to his pappy. I nod, wondering about this family. What crazy people set their slaves free before the fighting was over?
We eat the pickled peaches and I say to myself,
These here peaches are now my favorite food.
I clear the table while Miss Irene and Mr. Frank's ma clean up in the kitchen. Miss Irene says she's sorry because she doesn't have enough sugar for the coffee. She sent me over before noon to borrow a cup from a neighbor, and the neighbor
lady sent the sugar back with me with a note saying to pay back in full measure. Miss Irene sent me to take the sugar back.
"That woman will not lecture me on rules of conduct," Miss Irene says to Mr. Frank's ma, who has a nice, gentle laugh.
I serve the men their coffee on the porch and listen to their talk about Mr. Frank starting a general store. He's saying how hard it is for people in the county to get things. He says they have to drop everything just so they can go to New Orleans or Montgomery for three days when he could get a whole lot of things himself, bring it back, then sell it all off for a profit. It's such a fine idea, I can hardly believe someone else hasn't thought it up.
Mr. Frank's pa talks about a store that opened on the Taylorsville-Williamsburg road. The owner hung a coffeepot over his door and served coffee made with fresh spring water and beans from New Orleans, using molasses drippings to sweeten it. A person could get either long or short sweetening, but no cream.
"Well, there's no post office here that's accessible and folks like a place to sit and talk," Mr. Frank's pa says. He says he'll back him and they clink coffee cups to seal the deal.
Mr. Frank's pa leans on the porch pole, itching his stump while he looks me over. He moves slow. I know that he lost his
arm in the war. Everyone has a story. But I'm not clear how the big story really started. All I know is that they were mad about something so they had a war.
"You could have this girl, Addy, do your work in a few years. Like Buck."
"She's not a slave, Pa."
I stand still while the two of them look me over.
"And she's not staying here forever."
As the day closes and Momma still doesn't come, I can see Mr. Frank making his surmising that Momma never did plan on coming back. If it were all up to him, I know he'd turn me loose. But he's aiming to please Miss Irene.
Momma knew what she was doing.
"Addy," he says after his pa, his ma, Little Bit, and Jack leave. "You don't need to be doing boys' work outside. Miss Irene will teach you to help out with the washing, ironing, baking, and the common et cetera of the house."
I know that Mr. Frank does not want me around him. Outside, he can be alone.
After he leaves the house, I have to ask Miss Irene if Mr. Frank always talks like a schoolteacher. "And who et Zet up?"
Miss Irene laughs, says for me to never mind, then shows me about rolling out dough because tomorrow it's baking day.
I miss Momma, but I am glad that Momma's misery weren't no catching sickness. Mr. Frank and Miss Irene have been nothing but good to me and this makes me feel growed up and good myself. They make me want to do right. I am not hungry either and I feel quicker and not so mad. I try to remember the word for what I am feeling. And then I recall.
Happy.
I am happy.
Chapter 3
From May to September I work hard to prove to Mr. Frank that me and all the other O'Donnells aren't the lazy, mean good-for-nothings he
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