Chapter 5
August, 1871Thomas
Thomas could almost reach out and touch two of the four walls of Douglass’s home in a single turn. It was no bigger than a mining shack and as poorly insulated and lit as a slave cabin, yet the tight quarters felt like a familiar hug. The smells of home-baked goodness, sweet fruit, cinnamon, and baked pastry wafted in the warm, dry air, making his mouth water.
A large woman with a smile to match reached for his hat and hung it on the peg just inside the door. “Welcome to our home, Mr. Shankel. My Douglass tells me you’re in need of a suit.”
Thomas returned the slight bow of the robust woman and looked to Douglass for introductions.
“This is my beautiful wife, Harriet Douglass, and your new tailor, or seamstress, I should say.”
Her silver hair and white teeth sparkled in the firelight. Thomas returned an amiable smile.
Douglass tapped the wooden chair beside him. The straight lines against the curved upper back cradled the man’s hand. “You care for a cup of coffee and a piece of pie?”
Thomas took in the simple table and two chairs at the end of the short two feet of counter and patted his stomach. “Thank you, but no. I ate more than my fill at the boarding house.”
He needed to change the subject. Thomas was never able to tell a lie. Meager funds were typical after the war, and he’d take nothing from these people. “So, Douglass is your last name?”
“One and the same. Only name I have. You might change your mind about pie in twenty minutes. I’ll keep the coffee hot. Roasted the beans myself. We don’t need any fancy Arbuckles’ Ariosa coffee here.” Douglass winked.
The man’s dark hand brushed against his wife’s lighter, scarred one as he walked to the stove. The woman’s cheeks took on a deeper hue. Longing filled Thomas with a desire for a relationship where meanings and conversations passed through simple touch.
The tape measure and the chalk in Mrs. Douglass’s hand wobbled as she directed Thomas to the small area close to the fireplace. She tightened her fist around the items, and the slight tremor stopped. “Mr. Shankel, you come stand here.”
Thomas noted her swollen knuckles and crooked fingers and moved in the direction she pointed toward. “Please, call me Thomas.”
“Alrighty, but you’ll be calling me Harriet.”
The coffee pot clattered against the single-burner iron cookstove. Douglass’s bones creaked as he plopped into one of the kitchen chairs, whose joints made no noise.
“Oooph.” Air escaped Harriet’s tight lips as she crouched low. Thomas stood still as the woman pulled at his pant leg.
“You need my help over there?” Douglass offered.
Thomas followed the slow tilt of Harriet’s head even as her eyebrows reached for her hairline. Laughter bubbled from deep within him at the woman’s expression. He coughed to keep from embarrassing himself in front of the two he hoped would soon be his friends.
“Don’t listen to a word that man says. Doesn’t know the threading side of a needle. Now, let’s see what we got here.”
Thomas watched as Harriet’s gaze lingered a moment longer on her husband. She stuck the paper and pen in her mouth as she stretched the tape measure in one direction, then another. Thomas hoped she wouldn’t swallow them because of the smile she tried to contain.
He followed her instructions, keeping his feet a foot apart, lifting and lowering his arms as requested, and keeping his chin up. His eyes roamed the home. The fireplace warmed and shed light on the kitchen and parlor, which were the same. The firelight cast shadows as Harriet crouched, stood, bent, and took notes. He diverted his eyes from the chicken scratch on the paper and the narrow bed in the room behind the open door.
Thomas focused on the sounds of passing carriages, raucous male laughter, and the howl of a dog as they whistled their way through the single window. Even if he felt uncomfortable having a strange woman so close to his person, this home was a haven from the outside world. The sounds on the street outside reminded him of the growth in the town of Shumard Oak Bend, and the calming crackling of the fire felt like the comfort of home.
Thomas ached to lower his arms but did not flinch. He focused on the knots of the pine floor that appeared to move in the flickering light.
Harriet stood and measured his arms and neck, then tapped his tired shoulders. “You can relax. I got all the measurements I need.” She scribbled several notes and numbers on the edge of the now-damp magazine page.
Wood scraping the floor pulled Thomas’s attention to the right. Douglass poured a mug of steaming liquid. “You’ll be sorry if you don’t taste this pie. ‘Sides, I’d enjoy the company. That wife of mine will spout numbers to herself for the next half hour.” Douglass placed two plates of pie on the table.
The well-worn wood of the high-backed chair was soft in Thomas’s hand as he sat. The earthy, almost smoky smell of coffee rose from the brown ceramic mug, the liquid dark and inviting. “Thank you.” Thomas eyed the slice of pie on the table. Light caramel-colored fruit peeked from beneath a golden crust. Thomas used his fork to lift a flake as light as air.
“Can’t beat Harriet’s pie crust,” Douglass said. “She makes do with pears for the filling for now, but you wait until apple season. Mmm mmm, that’s one good pie. Woman knows how to make a pie with zucchini, too; yes, she does. Didn’t even know it weren’t apple until she told me.”
Thomas took a bite. The grainy texture of the soft pear complemented the crisp crust and sweet juices. “Zucchini pie?”
“When you got an overabundance of the squash in the heat of summer, you’ve got to get creative. She is that and much more.”
Thomas followed the man’s gaze to the hearth, where Harriet sat by the fire’s light, reading her notes. Their forks clinked on the heavy stoneware.
Douglass wiped his mouth. “You got a girl back home?”
It was as if Douglass had read his mind, where his thoughts focused on home. “No, sir. No time and fewer options.”
“You were looking a little far away. Missing your family?”
“Yes, sir. I suppose I am. Them and my best friend, Gabe.”
“Always good to have a friend. Tell me about home. Who all are you missing?”
“Well, there are my parents. My little sisters, Cecelia, who is thirteen, Serafina, who’s twelve, the eleven-year-old twins, Esther and Ruth, and Patricia, who just turned nine.” Thomas paused slightly, checking his math.
“That’s a pile of girls.” Douglass took a swig of his coffee.
Thomas fully relaxed. “My brother, Charlie, and I are the only boys, and he’s married with his own child now. It’s a girl.”
“Lots of family to miss.”
Thomas felt the familiar pangs of homesickness. “What about you? Do you have family nearby?”
“Oh, some cousins scattered about, but most of our family on both sides is gone. The Lord never blessed us with children, but then, I supposed Harriet had her fill taking care of me.” Douglass winked at his wife, who made an mm-hmm sound in response through a closed mouth. “Who else you missing?”
Thomas drew in a deep breath. “Miss Martha and Henry. They were a big blessing in helping me get here. She was my teacher and is Judge Pennypacker’s daughter.”
“Well, I’ll be. I didn’t make that connection, but now that you mention it, I remember Miss Martha going out west to help her aging aunt. How’s Miss Martha getting along?”
“Fine. I grew up calling her Aunt Martha. She was our schoolteacher until this year.” The coffee scalded his tongue and reminded Thomas to quit rambling.
“Seeing as you made it into medical school, she must have been a mighty fine teacher. She taught me my ABCs before the law allowed it. I didn’t have a choice but to learn. She was a force to be reckoned with, even as a small child.”
Thomas let out a slow breath. He could name most of the townsfolk of Shumard Oak Bend. They all felt like family, like Moses, Delphina, and their daughter, Mary Ellen. “I plan on returning after graduation and setting up a practice. It will be a long two years, but it will go by quickly with the Lord’s help.”
Douglass beamed. “Good to know you’re a fellow believer.”
“Yes, sir. Since I was six. My Grammie helped me hear God’s voice and obey it. I guess I still am. Obeying His voice, I mean. At least, I hope being here and attending medical school is God’s purpose for me.” Thomas’s knee bounced under the table, causing his coffee to slosh in his mug.
Douglass reached his hand out for a well-worn Bible at the table’s edge. “Psalm ninety verse seventeen.” He didn’t open the book but quoted from memory.
“And let the beauty of the LORD our God be upon us: And establish thou the work of our hands upon us; Yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.”
The crackle of the fire and Harriet’s murmurs of agreement filled the room.
Douglass continued, “Thomas, knowing the Lord’s will is mighty tough. To gain that wisdom, one must pray for divine instruction and plead with the Lord for knowledge. You have to want to be taught by the Holy Spirit, and seek Him in everything, whether good or bad. You spend time on your knees long enough and stay clear of claiming any merit of your own, and He’ll direct your steps in due time.”
Thomas felt his head move in agreement, but in his heart, he could not understand why God had not allowed Gabe to walk this path with him. They’d dreamed of opening a practice together.
Harriet accepted the chair Douglass now stood behind. “You men save me a slice of pie?”
“Of course, darlin’.” Douglass placed his work-worn hand over his wife’s. “Mr. Thomas, we best be getting you back. My wife gets up earlier than I do, but I’m the one needing more beauty rest.”
“You’re still as handsome as the day I married you.” Harriet’s eyes softened as she gazed at her husband.
The creak of Thomas’s chair on the wood floor felt intrusive. “Thank you both for your hospitality. The pie was delicious. My Aunt Aideen would have loved for her crust to be that flaky.”
“It’s the apple cider vinegar. Just a splash now, but it makes all the difference. And you’re most welcome. I’ll have your Sunday suit ready for you to try on by Saturday.” She looked at her husband for confirmation.
“I can come get you Saturday night, same time, if that works for you,” Douglass offered.
“Thank you, I’d be most grateful.” Thomas yawned, immediately embarrassed at the unexpected sound. “Pardon me. I’m more tired than I realized.”
Douglass’s hand on Thomas’s shoulder made the last of the tension he’d been carrying release.
“Young man, you’ve had a busy day. Let’s get you home.”
Harriet placed her hand on her husband’s other forearm and whispered, “Come straight back, Douglass.”
The parting kiss Douglass placed on his wife’s hair was familiar, much like how Thomas’s mother had said goodbye right before he’d boarded the train east.
“I’ll hurry back,” Douglass said. “Don’t you worry none.”
Harriet did not offer the hand still hugging her husband but dipped her head. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Thomas. We’ll settle up on Saturday.”
“The pleasure was all mine. Thank you both for your hospitality.” Blessed cool air greeted Thomas, and his eyes took little time to adjust to the darkness of night. His mind went over the home’s interior as he climbed aboard the conveyance. The home had no lanterns. They’d used the small fireplace to provide light. And nothing on the walls but the splash of fabric over the two windows provided color. Yet he’d felt right at home.
Neither man spoke as they maneuvered through the streets. Even at this hour, people milled, mainly with a stagger. No lamplights lined the narrow street, but Thomas could still make out the rows of small houses and a large brick church, distinguishable only by the wooden spire and cross lifted high above the single-story structures surrounding it. Lights ahead let him know they’d arrived at the edge of Center Square. The city bustled with men in dark clothing, but no skirts rustled near the shopping areas.
“Mr. Thomas, you be mindful when walking back and forth from school to that boarding house of yours. Even in daylight, you’re likely to meet some . . . Let’s just leave it at that. You mind your back in this town.”
Thomas understood, though Douglass’s words felt foreboding and caused his heart to pick up speed. “I suppose humanity is the same everywhere, but thank you for the warning.”
The street widened and larger, two- and three-story structures came into view.
Douglass pulled on the reins and slowed the horses in front of the boarding house. “Whoa. Here you go. If you need me, come by the judge’s place. Don’t be trying to find your way to my home. It’s not a good place for a white man of your standing to get lost.”
Thomas didn’t need the lamplight to see the concern in his friend’s eyes. He dipped his head once. “Thank you for your care. Good night, Douglass.”
“Night, sir.”
Thomas labored up the three steps to the door. No lights shone in the front windows. He fumbled with the key, the unfamiliar action reminding him he was not truly home.
The door creaked, as did the floor. A sly smile inched the side of Thomas’s mouth higher. He might not be used to locking and unlocking doors, but he was familiar with sneaking in and out. Gabe’s dark eyes and ever-present, broad smile shown in his mind. Thomas removed his shoes and tiptoed across the polished wood.
The chime of the clock had him scrambling to catch his falling shoe. Would that constant tick-tick-tick keep him up all night? Thomas kept to the outside edge of the steps where it would be least likely to make noise and slid his feet across the well-worn path down the hall.
Light shone from the crack underneath the door with the wreath, but not enough to help him see, so he could unlock his bedroom door. He fumbled twice before hearing the click.
No matter how tired he was, he needed a bath—and not like the ones he’d had over the past weeks of travel. The hall was quiet as he tiptoed into the bathing room. Tepid water, warmed only by the day’s heat, came out in a steady stream as it slowly filled the tub. They’d added indoor plumbing to their home out west, but their tub wasn’t nearly this deep. It would take time for the water to rise enough to get a good soak in this one.
Water splashed as Thomas sank into its depth and shivered as his back connected with the cast iron. He couldn’t afford to fall asleep here, so he briskly rubbed and scrubbed, dunking his head underneath to remove the last remnants of soap.
Rough cotton scratched his skin and smelled of tobacco with a hint of lavender. The combination made his stomach flip. The nightshirt he placed over his damp head reminded him he’d need a haircut soon. Another thing Martha had suggested he wait to get until he’d arrived. He’d ask Douglass whom the judge used, then snickered, wondering if Harriet used her scissors for that as well. He’d do just about anything to save a penny.
Murky water swirled down the drain, and Thomas cleaned up after himself before blowing out his candle. A toilet flushed, as did his cheeks. He was in his bedclothes, and someone was in the lavatory next door. Dark brown eyes and unruly chestnut waves clouded his already blurry vision. Thomas put his ear to the wood, then heard the creak of the one next door and light footsteps padding across the floor. When a second door opened and closed, he hustled back to his room in the darkness.
Habit had him in front of the mirror, combing his hair from his eyes, even though it was too dark to see. The sheets were cool on his skin as he slid beneath their embrace. The mattress sagged, pulling Thomas into its center point. He’d need to fix that, but he only desired sleep and sweet dreams tonight.
The women he’d met at dinner had all been nice enough, but Teddy had seemed like one who’d know how to skip rocks and climb trees. The one Reggie seemed to like, Merriweather, he thought was her name, probably preferred dolls and dancing.
Dancing. Thomas felt his pulse quicken. He was used to Shumard Oak Bend summer socials and barn dances but did not know what to expect here.
“Lord, I’m out of my element and need your help. You are a God of grace and mercy, so I’m asking you to send some my way. I can hold my own in the classroom, but I’m going to need divine intervention to figure out the rest.”
Douglass’s words from earlier floated through his mind. He yearned to gain the wisdom only the Holy Spirit could provide. He wanted to be teachable and seek God in all circumstances, even in how to adapt to this new lifestyle. Thomas crawled from the bed and knelt, his knees poking out from under his nightshirt.
“Lord, I need your help. It’s one thing to keep up with those I’ll be competing against in the classroom, but it’s another thing altogether outside the university walls. Direct my steps, Father. I want to represent You well.”
Thomas climbed back into bed, exhaustion taking over, but not before uttering one more prayer.
“And be with Gabe, Father. Heal his heart.”