Wild, Beautiful, and Free(56)

“Dorinda!”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to fly. It was Dorinda—Dorinda after all these years. It felt so good to see her I could have devoured her with my eyes. I guessed she was in her fifties—she was older but not yet old. The way she had descended the steps had affirmed that.

“Oh, Dorinda! How did you find me? How did you get here?”

Templeton followed from the house, and Dorinda reached for him. “This is my youngest sister Lottie’s boy. Some of the people here are from the Archinard family’s plantation. That’s where she used to be.”

Templeton nodded. “Ever since Mr. Colchester sold Belle Meade and gave us our freedom, I’ve been looking for my mama to buy hers.”

“And he found me first. Found me at Catalpa Valley.”

“And your mother?” I asked him. “What about her?”

Dorinda shook her head. “Poor Lottie, God rest her soul, died of the yellow fever in New Orleans. Not long after Madame sent you away. But Templeton wrote to us.”

Templeton interrupted her. “Naw, Jelly wrote the letter for me. I told her what to say, how I was grateful to know what happened to my mama. I told her about the fire and how you saved Jelly’s life.”

Dorinda squeezed my hand. “You know I can’t read. But Miss Calista, she was kind enough to read it to me—Lawd, how we jumped up and down in my kitchen! We screamed, ‘It’s her! She’s alive! Thank you, Jesus!’”

“Calista?” My heart thumped hard like it had bumped into the wall of my chest. “She knows where I am?”

Dorinda pulled me close and looked around. “Come on in and I’ll tell you. Can’t be puttin’ our business out in the street.”

I smiled—she had been the one to run out into the street! But I was too happy to argue or scold.

We sat at the family table. Jelly sidled up to me at once, and I put an arm around her. Templeton frowned. “Jelly, go play.”

I kissed her on her forehead. She pouted, but she went.

Dorinda was rummaging through a cloth-covered bag. Her hands shook. She pulled out a small and square box with a metal hinge at the back. “Miss Calista said to give this to you.”

I knew at once what it was. My hands began to shake, too, and I cried even before I pried the box apart. My locket. I grasped it in my hands, held it to my forehead, then hugged it to my heart. I sobbed. Dorinda held on to my arm with one hand and wiped tears from her eyes with the other.

“Go on, chérie. Open it.”

I wasn’t sure I could bear to do so, but I did. There he was. Papa. And my mama. I’d thought I hadn’t forgotten his face, thought it had always been before me, in my mind. Now I saw how much it had been enshrouded in a fog, the fog of time and memory. This image was so clear, like he was sitting there with us. I wanted to tell him everything, all that I had done, all that I had endured. I looked at Dorinda and took her hand. Our tears flowed.

“Oh, Papa! I miss him, Dorinda. I miss him so bad.”

“I know, honey. I do too. Miss Calista, she about lost her mind when she found out Madame sent you away like she did.”

“What happened, Dorinda? What happened after I left?”

“They fought something terrible! Madame locked Miss Calista in her room for days. Said she couldn’t come out until she could act like a lady.”

“Oh my God. What did you do?”

“I looked after her best I could, but Madame was crazy. Every time she think one of the coloreds look at her cross-eyed, she’d have ’em whipped. Man, woman, child. Didn’t matter. Screams, crying, day and night.”

Dorinda paused and mopped her forehead, damp with sweat.

“Miss Calista said she was ready to come out. She knew she had to calm Madame, make her stop. And she did. But as time went on, Calista turned the tables on her.”

I wasn’t surprised. I knew my sister was probably much stronger—and smarter—than Madame knew. “How did she do that?”

“Madame wanted to marry her off to make a wealthy connection. Had a fancy party with the Prudhomme family—it was young Noah Prudhomme that Calista was supposed to marry. Everyone was gathered, and they were about to make the announcement. Miss Calista stood up, bold as anything, and said she wouldn’t marry. Said she’d never marry until her sister, Jeannette, came home. Said she couldn’t think of marrying without you. The Prudhommes didn’t know what in the world was going on. Madame nearly fell over from the shame.”

I sat in wonder and pride. Calista was so strong. “What did Madame do?”

“She was licked. It got out what she had done, and of course most folks knew how your papa doted on you. She didn’t want to leave the house after that. After a while she got sickly. Miss Calista runs everything now.”

“How did you get here?”

“She wrote me a pass, but the man she sent with me, Mr. Louden, who sells the plantation’s cotton, didn’t dare come across the river with me. Said it wasn’t safe for him to cross into a Northern state because he might be taken as a spy.”

“He’s not one of the rebel soldiers?”

“Naw, very few of the young men around Catalpa are. They just waiting to see what will happen. They might join the Union soldiers.”

“Where is Mr. Louden now?”