How High the Moon Page 5

  “Ella!” My heart was pounding. She thought that was funny.

  “You kids don’t be playing over them tracks. You crazy?” Granny hated having to scold us in public. “Now behave.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” We both said it, even though it was Ella that was acting crazy. She was so excited to be going up to Boston to see her mama, she was dancing all over the platform.

  “You ain’t scared to be riding all by yourself?” I asked.

  Ella shook her head. “All’s I need to know is to get off when they call ‘Boston!’ Mama’s gonna be there to get me.”

  “What if she ain’t?” Myrna sidled up, grinning, hand on her hip.

  “Of course she’ll be there!” Ella stopped swinging and stepped up to Myrna.

  Myrna shrugged. “I sure hope you’re right,” she said, and tried to stroll off. Ella wasn’t having it.

  “You know my mama’s gonna be there!” Ella’s cheeks were dark pink.

  “She just wants to scare you, Ella,” I said, leading her past the wall of people that had managed to move between us and the front of the platform. Myrna looked back over her shoulder and I gave her a look to let her know I thought she was being awful. She stuck her tongue out at me.

  When we reached Granny and Poppy, Ella quickly took ahold of Granny’s hand and I realized that she was scared after all.

  “Now listen, sugar,” Granny said to Ella. “You go have a good time, and just see how things go, all right? You might not even like it.”

  “I’m hot. You sure I need this heavy coat?” Ella asked.

  “You’ll be happy you have it up in Boston, baby,” Granny said.

  Ella turned to me and smiled. “You gonna be okay without me, Henry?”

  I laughed and gave her a thumbs-up.

  The man on the loudspeaker rattled off the names of a bunch of cities. I couldn’t understand anything he was saying except “BOSTON!” Ella looked up, trying to locate where the garbled voice was coming from.

  “You hear that?” she asked Granny. “Poppy? That’s my train, right?” She was clinging to Poppy’s arm now, beaming and tapping her toes.

  There was a distant rumble along the tracks, accompanied by a high-pitched whistle. The whole crowd moved closer to the tracks. The whistle sounded again, louder and closer this time. The rumble was like thunder. Ella wrapped her free arm around mine and we both craned our necks to see the powerful locomotive as it arrived.

  The train came barreling down the tracks like an enormous metal snake. It hissed and shrieked before coming to a complete stop. The crowd pushed forward and, at the same time, several passengers flowed out of the train onto the platform and into the arms of loved ones. Everyone crying. Everyone happy.

  Ella, wide-eyed with excitement, broke away from me and Poppy and headed for the entrance at the middle of the train.

  “I better get on!” she said as she took off.

  The crush of exiting passengers was too thick and she couldn’t make her way through.

  “Ella, wait!” I called. But she didn’t hear me. She just kept jumping up and down, straining to see over the heads of the people. Finally Granny’s voice was able to cut through the crowd to her.

  “Ella! Hold on, baby! You gonna get on over here.” Granny indicated a few doors down that led to the colored section at the back of the train. There was a small trickle of folks still exiting. Ella ran to us and grabbed Granny’s hand.

  “Just hold tight till these folks have all got off,” Granny said.

  Ella’s legs were dancing again, but now her face looked worried.

  “Can I get my hug now?” I asked her. She turned to me and I could see that in all the excitement to go to Boston, she had forgot she was leaving us. She threw her arms around me and squeezed.

  “I’m gonna miss you so much!” She pulled back and said, “Write me. And draw me some pictures.”

  “Oh, you can count on it,” I said. I was gonna say more, but my throat closed on me and I could feel my eyes welling up.

  “I ain’t really gonna be gone, Henry,” she said. “I’m right here. Always.” She put her fist over my heart.

  Granny gave her a big hug and smothered her in kisses. Myrna even hugged her good-bye, though it was lukewarm at best.

  Poppy was near the train entrance, talking to a tall colored man wearing a white coat and black bow tie. On his head was a flattop black cap. I knew he was a Pullman porter. I’d learned about them in school. It was the porter’s job to greet the passengers, help them with their luggage, serve food, keep the train tidy, and make sure that the passengers were comfortable and had all their needs met while traveling. Almost like they was the hosts of the train. Even though most of the passengers were white, the Pullman porters was all colored men.

  “Ella, this here is Gerald,” Poppy said. “He has assured me that he’s going to take the best care of you and make your first train ride comfortable.” He turned to Gerald. “Right, young man?”

  “Yes, sir.” He turned to Ella and said, “How do you do, young lady?” Gerald’s long matchstick body bent at the middle to greet Ella. He extended a hand and Ella took it without hesitation.

  Granny and Poppy kissed her again and handed her off to the porter, who led her onto the train. We all anxiously waited to see her face through a window so we could wave good-bye like they did in the movies. We waited, and waited, and waited. Finally Poppy said, “I think he must’ve seated her on the other side.”

  We all stood there, just staring at the train. Ella was somewhere in there and we didn’t know when we’d see her again. Without her at my side, I was starting to feel a little bit of what it was going to be like with her gone.

  “Can we go, then?” Myrna broke the silence.

  Granny dabbed the corners of her eyes and her nose with her handkerchief and nodded. Poppy held back a bit. I turned and saw him looking at the train over his shoulder, but it wasn’t until we were all navigating the crowd to find our way out, that Ella’s voice cut through, at last.

  “Granny!”

  Her arm was all the way out the window and she was waving wildly. Through the glass, I could see her beaming face. Granny blew her a kiss and we all waved and waved until the train was gone.

  ella

  When Mama would come to stay with us, I’d always play her record for her. The demo record she made in a real studio while I was still in her belly. One day it’s gonna help her get her own record contract. She made an extra copy just for me. She says that I helped her sing the song from inside her belly. When I was a baby, she used to sing it to me all the time.

  I mostly keep it up on the shelf next to my bed, alongside my dolls, still protected by its brown paper sleeve. When I’m really missing Mama, I take it down and listen to it on the phonograph.

  Mama’s gonna be a real singer on the radio one day. I just know it. She’s already singing in a club, wearing pretty dresses, and lighting up the stage. Sure, she still works most days as a shipfitter for the navy, but soon enough she’ll be a recording star.

  I liked the train. It was like one of them big Greyhound buses, but even bigger. There were large windows on either side, so you could watch the world roll by, and seeing as we was on tracks, we could cut right on through the countryside. Didn’t have to stay on the regular road with people, cars, and buses.

  The wooden benches we had to sit on didn’t bother me so much at first, but after a little while I decided it’d be more comfortable to sit on my coat. I folded it and propped it under me like a cushion and that worked just fine. Up in the white section, I could see that the chairs were covered in plush purple-and-gold-striped velvet. Surely those seat bottoms were more comfortable on your rear end.

  Granny told me to use the bathroom before I left but I was so excited I forgot. Ever since I’d taken my seat, I’d been feeling the urge to go. Gerald was nowhere in sight, and I just wasn’t sure if the washroom a couple rows in front of me was the colored washroom, or if maybe it was somewhere farthe
r toward the back of the car. I couldn’t see nothing back there, but I didn’t want to make a mistake. I still had a long train ride ahead of me ’fore I reached Boston and I did not need to have that kinda trouble so early in my trip.

  Where was Gerald?!

  Finally I just stood. I didn’t want to wait any longer.

  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven small steps and I was at the washroom door. I scanned the white train car in front of me. No one looked up. I stepped inside and put the latch on the door.

  I was drying off my hands when I heard someone pulling on the handle outside. I quickly opened the door and there, in front of me, was a wide-bodied white woman wearing a thick black shawl, short white curls peeking from under her wool hat.

  I’d used the wrong washroom.

  Her eyes narrowed and she scoffed. “Oh! What’s this?” She shook her head and looked up and down the aisles. I was sure she was searching for Gerald. He’d be so disappointed in me. I didn’t think they would kick me off the train, but they’d surely tell Mama. She might get into trouble on my account! This was no way to start off my trip to Boston.

  “What’re you doing here? This is the white washroom. You could get in a lot of trouble.” She had a thick accent from another country, but I couldn’t know which one.

  “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I—”

  “Where’s your mother?”

  I shook my head. “Ain’t no one with me.”

  She looked over the white train briefly, and then scanned the colored section.

  “You wait right here,” she said, and went into the washroom. I was feeling ashamed of having made the mistake, but when I glanced over at the white section, no one there seemed to be paying any mind. Same with the colored section. Most folks were sleeping or staring out the windows.

  When the woman reappeared, she motioned for me to follow her toward the back of the train.

  “Where is your seat?” she asked.

  She bustled through the train, her behind tapping everyone seated on the aisle as she passed. As we approached my row, I pointed to my empty seat directly across from two sleeping lovebirds. The girl’s head was resting on her soldier boyfriend’s shoulder. Their arms entangled. In the seat next to mine, an elderly man snored. The woman turned to me and smiled.

  “Excuse me, sir.” She tapped and tapped and finally had to shake the man’s shoulder a while to wrestle him awake. When he did open his eyes and saw that white woman staring down, he was scared as the dickens. I think he thought he’d done something wrong.

  “Ma’am?” He sat up straight and wiped the trail of drool from his cheek with his shirtsleeve.

  After a brief exchange, she convinced him to take the empty seat a few rows over so that she and I could sit together. He seemed confused at first. Everyone listening, myself included, was confused. She was gonna sit in the colored section with all of us? He laughed and shook his head as he scooted past her and down the aisle.

  “What’s your name?” she asked me as she squeezed into the seat. Her nose and cheeks were perfectly round and pink like the pictures of Santa Claus. Ice-blue eyes, framed by a deeply knit, concerned brow that seemed to study my clothes, my hair, my fingernails.

  “Ella,” I answered.

  “Pleased to meet you, Ella. My name is Svetlana.” Her creased brow softened and her whole face smiled. It reminded me of Granny’s.

  Unlike the couple across from me, or the man whose seat she’d taken, Svetlana did not sleep. Not one blink. Instead, she talked. And talked. And talked. She told me about how she lived in New York City, but was originally from Russia. How she had just come from visiting her son in South Carolina. How she thought it was pretty, but she didn’t like much else about it.

  “It is not right the way they treat the coloreds,” she said, scowling again. “Where is it you’re going, Ella?”

  “Boston, ma’am. I’m fixing to stay with my mama.” I was giddy with the thought.

  “Oh, well, Boston. Yes! Now there’s a nice city. What does your mother do there?” she asked.

  “Well, she went up there working as a maid, but now she works helping to build ships for the navy. But truly,” I said, “she’s a singer.”

  “You must be so proud.” Svetlana smiled and I nodded, smiling back. She’d taken my hand in hers and was smoothing the skin over and over like she was trying to flatten out a wrinkle in a sheet. “My grandson, Nicolai, is about your age.” She looked out the window, a faint smile on her lips. I think she was lost in a dream. “Such a wonderful boy.”

  Finally, Svetlana excused herself to go back to her own seat. She said she’d be ready to sleep soon and I could see the Pullman porters already setting up the beds in the front cars. Back in the Negro section, we’d have to make do, sitting upright on that hard bench.

  I decided to pull out The Secret Garden and get lost in my book awhile, but Gerald the Pullman porter appeared, leaning over me to crack my window for fresh air. He nudged my arm and pointed to my book.

  “You don’t wanna get sick now, do you? Reading on the train gonna bring your stomach up if you ain’t careful,” he said.

  “But I feel all right,” I said.

  “I don’t wanna clean up your mess, girl. Save that book for Boston.”

  I didn’t want to argue with the man, so I put my book back in my knapsack. I turned to the window and watched as the landscape shifted, marveling at the kaleidoscope of changing color. Soon, I couldn’t see sunset, trees or land, only black.

  The motion of the train rocked me to sleep and I didn’t wake up again until the sky was all aglow with morning. I cleaned myself up in the washroom, had an apple and crackers, and before I knew it, Gerald was calling out:

  “BOSTON! Next stop BOSTON!”

  My stomach was tight with nerves and I could hardly sit back in my seat.

  When we arrived at the station, I searched the sea of bodies for Mama. There were so many people on the platform. Far more than at the Charleston station. And there was so much movement and commotion. I spotted a colored woman in a wide-brimmed hat. I squinted trying to see her face, to see if it was Mama, but she reached down and lifted a little boy onto her hip. She turned and planted a quick kiss on his head and I could see that it wasn’t her. I scanned all the brown female faces trying to find hers. Where was she? A hollow feeling caught hold of me for a moment.

  What if she didn’t come?

  Gerald was suddenly by my side with my suitcase.

  “You see your mama?” he asked.

  “Not yet… I don’t know.” I craned my neck, trying to see through the crowd. “I…” And then, there she was. How could I have missed her?

  In the middle of all that madness, Mama was calm and radiant. Shiny black pin curls framed her pretty face. A powder-blue fitted overcoat hugged her slender frame. Her eyes carefully searched the train windows.

  “Mama!”

  “Well, now.” I felt Gerald straighten up a little. “The apple don’t fall too far from the tree, lovely lady!” He laughed and tapped the top of my hat.

  I grabbed my suitcase and dashed for the exit.

  “Thank you, Gerald!” I shouted over my shoulder.

  “Baby!” Mama called. A delicious cloud of sweet vanilla enveloped my whole body as Mama wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight. I didn’t want to let go. When we finally did break and were walking out of the station, I held her hand tight, so proud to be walking with her. So proud that she was my mama.

  ella

  Mama’s house wasn’t far from the station. She kept apologizing for us having to do all that walking, but compared to back home, it wasn’t nothing at all. Along the way, Mama pointed out important buildings and landmarks. None of the names really stuck; I was mostly just amazed by how enormous they were. Taller than any buildings I’d ever seen anywhere in South Carolina.

  How could I possibly focus on what Mama was saying with all that noise? With all that commotion. Our school playground at three o’clock
wasn’t even so loud and wild. Here there were machines and cars and trolleys and horns and people. Lots and lots of people. All shouting and blaring and rushing at once. The whole place seemed big and there was so much going on. More than once, I grabbed Mama’s arm, yanking at her when a car seemed to lurch toward us or when there was loud and sudden horn honking.

  The city wasn’t what I was expecting. I guess I knew it’d be big, and Henry had talked a lot about how tall the buildings were, so I shoulda knew to expect that. I knew it was gonna have more people and more cars. But I think the big surprise for me was that it was so wild.

  “Different from Alcolu, ain’t it?” She laughed. “It’ll take a little getting used to.”

  The air was cold on my cheeks, as crisp as a gingersnap. The smell of diesel tightened my chest and I couldn’t turn my head to avoid it. We were walking in its cloud.

  I saw white people and colored people and shades of brown and tan that didn’t look to be white folks or colored folks. Everyone was bundled in large coats. The women wore brightly colored wool, and many wore fur. And hats! Lots of ladies had on snazzy hats in all sorts of shapes with furry muffs over their hands to keep them warm.

  “Oooh! Look, Mama!” It felt so good to say that. Mama.

  High over the street, arcing from one side to the other, was a fancy Christmas light display. In the center was a peacock, its wide tail feathers opened into a dazzling fan of lights. On either side of it were matching peacocks with long, sparkling tails.

  “Wow!”

  I was mesmerized. It was the most spectacular thing I’d ever seen, and the first thing I thought of was Henry. He’d have sat down right there in the street and drawn a picture of those beautiful lights. I tried to commit the beautiful image to my memory so I could share it with him later.

  “Wow. That’s a beauty,” Mama agreed. “Wait until you see them at night!”

  The whole way home, we pointed out the fancy Christmas decor on the streets and in the shops, declaring which ones were our favorites.

  “Now I have to remind you, baby: Mama’s working two jobs. I’ve got the Naval Yard most mornings, and a few nights a week I sing at the supper club,” she said.