JOHN AND ROSE
Chapter Forty-Five
August 19, 1931
Cedar Rapids, Iowa
Rose sat in the rocking chair in the living
room, cradling Peter in her arms and humming soothingly to him. Her youngest
child was irritable in the summer heat, and the fact that he was teething
didn’t make him any happier. Nadia was always able to soothe him, but she was
going out with Sam tonight, and Rose didn’t want to hand the baby over to her
when she had other things to think about. The fretful infant might spit up on
her, and would almost certainly scream when she left.
The baby whimpered as the doorbell rang,
startling him out of his light doze. Rose patted his back soothingly, wiping
his face with a damp, cool cloth as she went to answer the door.
Sam stood at the door, looking a little
nervous. It was the first time he had taken Nadia out since John had given his
permission, and he was a little uncomfortable coming right up to her house to
fetch her for a night on the town. Had Nadia been a member of his own race, he
wouldn’t have been so nervous, but he knew how society in general regarded a
relationship between a white woman and a black man, and even John’s grudging
approval and Rose’s outright acceptance didn’t make it easier. But he wanted to
be with Nadia, and she wouldn’t stand for sneaking around and keeping things
secret—not when she had her family’s approval.
"Sam!" Rose greeted him, smiling.
Peter squirmed in her arms, his whimpers ceasing as he caught sight of Sam and
stared at him with wide eyes. "Come in. Have a seat. Nadia will be with
you shortly." She wondered what was taking Nadia so long. Usually, her
stepdaughter was ready to go long before Sam made an appearance, and rushed out
to meet him before anyone could say a word.
Nodding to Sam, Rose made her way up the
stairs, Peter fussing again in her arms. The baby had taken a liking to Sam the
night he had come to dinner, and Rose was tempted to let Sam hold him in hopes
that he would calm down. Still, Sam looked so nervous, she didn’t want to
further burden him by putting him in charge of a fussy infant.
When she reached the top of the stairs, Rose
moved swiftly to Nadia’s door. She knocked, hearing a crash as something fell
on the floor, and then Nadia’s voice responded.
"Come in."
Rose opened the door slowly, her eyes
widening at the sight of Nadia kneeling on the floor, trying to collect the
contents of her cosmetics case, which she had dropped when Rose had knocked.
But it wasn’t the sight of the spilled makeup that had caught Rose’s attention;
it was the sight of the amount of makeup that Nadia was wearing.
Setting Peter on her hip, Rose knelt down
beside Nadia to help her clean up. The baby immediately brightened, then began
to wail in earnest when his mother kept a firm grip on him, not allowing him to
go to his sister.
"Sam’s here," Rose told her
stepdaughter, handing her a cracked container of blush. Nadia had already
applied so much of the stuff that she looked like a painted doll.
"Already?" Nadia jumped up, looking
at the clock.
"He’s five minutes late getting here.
What’s wrong, Nadia? Usually, you’re ready to see him long before he gets
here."
"I’m trying to look my best."
Rose eyed her heavy makeup. "I think
you’d look better if you wiped some of that off. You’re going on a date, not a
movie set."
Nadia looked at herself in the mirror.
"I don’t know…"
"You never fussed so much about makeup
before," Rose told her, handing her the wailing infant. The boy quieted,
staring at his sister’s heavily painted face with interest.
"We haven’t been on a…on an official
date before. I mean, we’ve gone places, and studied together and everything,
but it was never…I don’t know…approved of by Dad before. It’s…I don’t
know…different now."
"How so?"
Nadia stared at her stepmother, at a loss for
words. "It just is."
"Does Sam expect you to be different
because your father approves?"
"Yes…no…I don’t know…he’s treated me the
same as always when I’ve been tutoring him…but I’m leaving tomorrow."
"And?"
"And I don’t want him to forget
me."
Rose raised an eyebrow. "Small chance of
that, I think, but Nadia…you aren’t planning something inappropriate, are you?"
Nadia blushed at Rose’s implication.
"No, Mom! I mean—I’ve still got another year of college to go,
and…well…things happen."
Rose nodded. Things did indeed happen—that
was how she’d gotten Christopher.
"Just be sure that
nothing…untoward…happens, Nadia. You’ll be back for Thanksgiving, and if things
are meant to work out between you and Sam, he’ll be waiting for you then. If
not…it’s best to stay out of trouble."
"I know, Mom. I’m not going to do
something I shouldn’t and risk everything I’ve worked for."
"That’s good, Nadia." Rose took
Peter back, sighing as the baby began to fret again. "Now, wipe about
two-thirds of that makeup off your face and come downstairs. Don’t keep Sam
waiting too long."
*****
Sam sat in the living room, jiggling one leg
nervously. He stopped, trying to act indifferent, as Ruth came into the room
and sat down in a chair across from him, fixing him with an unfriendly,
disapproving gaze.
Sam tried to ignore her, but his eyes kept
drifting back to the older woman, whose disapproving gaze seemed to burn right
through him. Finally, he looked directly at her.
"Is there something you need,
ma’am?" he asked, trying to hide how uncomfortable she made him.
"You’re taking my granddaughter out
tonight, aren’t you?"
"Yes, ma’am."
"I would prefer if you didn’t."
Ruth’s tone of voice made it clear that it wasn’t a request.
Sam thought about arguing with her, then
thought better of it. "It’s up to Nadia if she wants to go on a date with
me."
"You should never have set eyes on
her."
"She was hired to teach me to read and
write…"
"Yes. I know. That was my daughter’s
decision. There have been times when she was very foolish, and this was one of
them."
"Nadia is a very good teacher…"
"Who should finish her education and
teach children. Not the likes of you."
"She didn’t have to accept the
job."
"How many people are willing to pass up
a job in times like these?"
"Not many," Sam admitted, "but
I don’t think that she really needed the money, coming from a family like
this."
"Is that what you think?" Ruth’s
eyes narrowed. "I come from old money, and in my day you would never have
crossed my doorstep unless you were doing the most menial of work. This family
used to be wealthy, and in those days my granddaughter would never have had a
reason to accept a job teaching you." She sniffed disdainfully. "It’s
a credit to her that you learned anything at all."
"Yes, it is. She knows what she’s doing.
She’ll be a great teacher one day—"
"I thought I was already a great
teacher," Nadia interrupted, coming into the living room with Rose
following close behind.
"You are," Rose told her, giving
Ruth a warning look. She had overheard the end of the conversation and knew
exactly what her mother was up to.
Ruth rose stiffly from her chair.
"Excuse me," she told them, holding her head high and walking up the
stairs.
Rose stared after her, her eyes narrowing.
"She makes me so angry sometimes…" She turned to Sam and Nadia,
shaking her head. "Have a good evening, you two. Take care."
"We will, Mom." Nadia took Sam’s
arm and headed for the door, only to be stopped by Rose, who pointed to her
chin.
Nadia gave her a puzzled look, then wiped her
chin, blushing a little as her fingers came away covered with lipstick. Rubbing
her fingers to wipe it away, she gave Rose a grateful look, then hurried out
the door, Sam following close behind.
*****
Sam and Nadia walked slowly down the dusty
road in the direction of Nadia’s home, enjoying the cool evening breeze. They
had gone to dinner at a small establishment that didn’t mind having Sam for a
patron, and then gone to the movie theater to see the picture that Polly had
directed. The picture that Rose had cast Sam in was not yet finished, but she
anticipated that it would probably be ready for the theaters around
Thanksgiving—just in time for Nadia to come home.
Nadia smiled to herself, thinking about
seeing Sam on the silver screen. He would look wonderful, she was sure. Perhaps
it would even make people more approving of her relationship with Sam, she
hoped. After all, how could a woman be expected to resist such a handsome face?
As they came to the bend in the road that
would take them the last half-mile to Nadia’s home, they stopped, not wanting
to go back just yet. Nadia would be leaving on the train the following
afternoon, and they wouldn’t see each other until she returned home for
Thanksgiving. They had already promised to write, but it wasn’t the same.
It was late, but Nadia still looked around to
be sure that no busybodies were watching as Sam pulled her close. She smiled at
him, glad to have a few minutes alone with no one watching, disapproving or
not. Tilting her head back, she looked at him in the moonlight, eyes sparkling.
He was going to kiss her. She knew it. He had
never kissed her before, but there was something about the moonlight, about the
cool, pleasant night…she stretched upwards as he lowered his mouth toward hers,
relishing the warm, private moment of their first kiss.
It was all too short. Caught up in one
another, neither Sam nor Nadia had heard the cars coming down the road in their
direction, nor did they notice when they pulled to a stop not far from them—but
they did notice when one of the car doors slammed, and a voice rang out.
"There they are!"
Startled, they jumped apart, turning in alarm
as several men in white robes and hoods rushed toward them.
"Run!" Sam shouted, pushing Nadia
out of the way and turning to face the Klan members himself.
"No!" Nadia grabbed his hand,
determined not to leave him to their attackers. "It’s not far…we can make
it!"
She started to run, pulling Sam along, but it
was only moments before the hooded men caught up them, yanking them apart. Two
of them grabbed Sam and dragged him in the direction of the cars, laughing at
his attempts to get free. Someone else made a remark about lynching, drawing
vicious laughter from the others.
Nadia stood frozen in place, not sure what to
do. She wanted to help Sam, she wanted to run…the choice was taken out of her
hands as one of the men grabbed her and pushed her to the ground, slapping her
as she tried to struggle free.
"No!" Nadia cried, kicking out. He
grunted in pain as she caught his shin, giving her enough time to raise a hand
and yank his hood loose.
He cursed, yanking it back into place, then
hit her again, harder. She tasted blood as her lip split from the blow. She
tried to scream, but he clamped his hand over her mouth, turning her scream
into a barely audible whimper.
Another man came up to them, his posture
showing anger.
"No! Don’t touch her! Her father will
have us all lynched."
"She’s nothing but a slut!" Nadia’s
attacker raised his head for a moment, his hand loosening over her mouth.
He yowled in pain as she jerked away from his
grip, sinking her teeth into his hand and biting deep.
"She can identify you! She pulled off
your hood, and those bite marks are dead giveaways! Nobody will do anything
about the nigger, but her…"
"Let’s get out of here!" The
drivers of the cars were back in their seats, ready to go, a bound and gagged
Sam in the closer car.
"God dammit!" Nadia’s attacker got
to his feet, giving her a shove. He followed the other man to the cars and they
jumped in, speeding away before Nadia could run more than a few towards them.
Nadia chased after them for a moment, then
stopped, realizing that it was hopeless. She saw a few lights on in houses, a
few faces staring out from windows, but no one seemed inclined to do anything.
She couldn’t stop them herself. She didn’t
even know where they were going. Whirling around, Nadia ran towards the only
place where she might find help—her own home, half a mile away.