Chapter Thirty-Five #2
She hesitates for a moment. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t understand.
You’re risking everything—your marriage, your son’s peace, and maybe even his safety.
And while I’m so proud of you, I can’t make sense of why you want this job so badly.
Maybe it is time to do what Lisle wants.
When the Mob is getting this close, maybe it’s time to quit. ”
Her words astonish me. “You, of all people, know the importance of my work and—”
“I don’t want to hear what you’ve practiced for the press,” she interrupts, leaning in closer to me. “I’m asking you woman to woman, friend to friend. You have a husband who loves you and a son who needs you. Yet you seem so willing to put it at risk. What’s driving you to do this?”
I sit with her question for a moment. “I can’t give it up. I don’t know how to walk away,” I say, quietly. And then I ask, “Have I ever told you about my grandfather?”
She squints as if she’s trying to recall, then shakes her head.
“I’m surprised, because Stanton Hunton, my father’s father, is my hero. He died before I was born, but with my father’s stories, it was like my grandfather was alive in our home.
“My grandfather was enslaved, but he refused to accept those shackles. He escaped, only to be hunted down and dragged back. But being captured didn’t keep him in chains.
Because he was never going to give up on being free.
So he escaped again and was dragged back.
And then he escaped again. Three times, until he was given what he desired most. He was given his freedom; he was manumitted.
“What I learned from my grandfather’s life is never to give up on what you really believe. But what I’ve learned from my life is that shackles aren’t always made of iron. I’ve felt bound for so long—not by chains that I could see, but by all of my failures.”
“You failed? At what?”
I give her a faint smile. “Only a friend would say that. But if you were being honest, you know, I was like a ship adrift. Yes, everyone said I was smart and educated, but I was floundering. It took me six years to decide to go to law school. And even when I finished, I didn’t know if I was going to return to social work, or try writing again, or do something else entirely.
I never felt free to sit and ask myself what it was that I really wanted to do.
Because I was living for the blessing of my mother, the approval of my husband, and the favor of the Harlem society ladies who expected so much from me simply because I was Addie Hunton’s daughter and Dr. Lisle Carter’s wife. ”
“But you’re one of the most successful people I know.”
“Maybe by your standards, but not by mine. Not until now. This is the first time I’ve attained something without giving thought to what Lisle would say or my mother would think.
I interviewed for the prosecution team without telling anyone.
I walked into that interview feeling free.
I was confident and determined because it was my decision and it was for me.
“And once I was selected, I blazed my own trail. Even when I felt pushed aside, I did the work and got results. I did all of that—not as a Hunton, not as Lisle’s wife.
I did it as Eunice Roberta. And even with all the challenges that come with being a colored woman on that team, I can live with it because I’m free. ”
“I’ve only ever thought of freedom in one way.”
“I’m not saying that what I’m talking about is equivalent to the emancipation that my grandfather and the other slaves received. But I know my grandfather and the others fought to break the chains of slavery so that every one of us could live up to our God-given potential.
“I’m thirty-six years old, and for the first time, I feel like I’m not bound by any chains.
Yes, there are still forces that seek to keep me in my place.
But I’m a colored woman on the most important prosecution team in the country.
” My voice falters. “And yet, I can’t even celebrate, because while finding myself, I’m losing my husband.
God knows this isn’t what I want, but shouldn’t Lisle and Junior have the best of me? ”
She nods.
“I can only give them that once I believe that I am the best version of myself. I’m just now beginning to believe that.”
“Wow.” Regina sits for a while, taking it in.
Her eyes glisten as her fingers close around mine.
“I’ve always looked up to you, Eunice, but in just these few minutes, you’ve given me a lifetime of lessons.
You’ve stopped dimming your light to please others, and now you’re shining like God intended.
You’re right: There’s no greater freedom than that.
And I hope one day to be as brave as you, so I can be free, too. ”
—
As the Apollo Theater fills up, I fight to hold myself together. What made me think I could attend this performance alone? Everything reminds me that Lisle isn’t here—from the people who stopped me as I entered the theater to the empty aisle seat beside me.
I need to leave. But as I have that thought, Regina leans in close to me. “It’s going to be fine,” she whispers, as if she read my mind.
I nod, and when she turns back to her conversation with her husband and Adam Clayton Powell Jr. and his wife, Belle, I shrink into my seat.
The theater lights begin to dim, and for the first time since I arrived, I’m relieved. I can hide in the darkness. And then…Lisle slips into the empty seat next to me.
I stare at him, astounded. “What…”
He presses his forefinger against my lips before he gives me a small kiss. “Let’s just enjoy the show.”
From the wings of the stage, the tuxedoed announcer says, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Duke Ellington,” and the ovation erupts.
As the dapper Duke strides onto the stage in his charcoal-gray three-piece suit, almost everyone in the two thousand seats in the Apollo Theater rises.
The Duke hasn’t struck a single note, but the walls of the Apollo quiver with admiration and reverence for him.
He gives the audience a gracious wave, and the cheers break out. Women are swooning—the Duke has already cast his spell on every lady in the theater.
I’ve always admired Duke Ellington, and I’ve had my moments of swooning, but right now, I just want to take my husband by the arm, go home, and set our marriage right.
But then Lisle intertwines his fingers with mine, and I settle with the rest of the audience as Duke bows before his fifteen-piece orchestra. It’s only because Lisle keeps holding me that I can be still.
For the next hour, Duke and his orchestra blow the roof off the Apollo with his hits: “Harlem Speaks,” “Mood Indigo,” and of course, “In a Sentimental Mood.” Finally, he rises from the piano and comes to the center of the stage.
“Before we perform our last number, I want to thank everyone for joining us this evening. You know, I may have been born in Washington, DC, but Harlem is where I belong.”
With our applause, we welcome him home.
“If you will allow me a few minutes of personal privilege, there are a few Harlem dignitaries I’d like to recognize. Of course, Reverend Adam Clayton Powell Jr. and his lovely wife, Belle. And Assemblyman William T. Anderson and his lovely wife, Regina.”
Duke Ellington continues, calling out Walter White and Roy Wilkins and his favorite writer, Langston Hughes.
Then he says, “And a name we all know from her bid for assemblyman and for her tireless work with the special prosecutor’s office. Mrs. Lisle Carter.”
Me?
I am taken aback.
Lisle grins as he offers me his hand to help me stand—and I wonder if my husband knows his gesture means as much to me as Duke Ellington calling my name.
But once I rise, my legs feel like jelly. It is Duke Ellington, after all, acknowledging me. The theater is loud with thundering applause, and I turn, waving to everyone.
I am walking on air. Duke Ellington knows my name, and my husband is home. And I will see to it that Lisle and I stand firm, even as I fight to keep my own light burning.