Chapter 5
SOPHIA
Sophia lugged the red plaid Olney train case, stolen from Ma Deary’s closet, up the steps from her dugout.
For once, she was pleased to hear the rhythmic snores and snorts of Ma Deary and the Old Man.
It confirmed that they were dead asleep and made it easier for her to tiptoe out the back door undetected.
She hadn’t told the twins she was going away. But she’d squeezed them extra hard before they’d gone to bed last night, reminding them not to skip out on their homework. It was breaking her heart to leave them behind.
The dewy scent of morning greeted her as she crept onto the back porch, and the air was foggy. Careful not to step on anything that would crackle, she trod onto the overgrown path that led to the main road.
“What happened to your hair?” Walter leaned against the white oak tree.
“I dyed it.” She fingered the nape of her neck. “You don’t like it?”
Walter shrugged. “I liked it just fine before.”
As he led her through the grass, Sophia heard a barn owl hissing and screeching, sounding like a terrified woman, and crickets rubbing the edges of their forewings.
“I don’t know how you sleep out here,” she whispered to Walter. “So creepy.”
“The sounds don’t bother me none.”
But then Sophia thought she heard a rustling coming from behind them, just below the evergreen bush.
She held the travel case in her arms like a football.
She didn’t know if she should hide or run.
Her heart seemed to move down into her stomach.
It was over. Ma Deary or the Old Man had gotten wind of their plan.
They would make Sophia stay and work the farm.
When she turned, she braced herself to come face-to-face with one of the grown-ups, but what she saw was a startled fawn.
“Come on.” Walter continued.
They hiked a little farther, until they reached the small clearing where he had hidden Ma Deary’s Rambler.
“How in the world did you get the car all the way out here?” Sophia asked, placing the train case in the backseat.
“I pushed it in neutral so that the engine wouldn’t wake the house.”
“All by yourself?”
He stretched his arms above his head, then cranked the engine. “You owe me.”
Sophia settled in her seat, filled with gratitude for her older brother. She had never felt much tenderness from Ma Deary, not even as a child. When she fell, it was always Walter who picked her up and bandaged scraped knees.
They pulled onto the main road. Ma Deary’s car smelled like her lily-of-the-valley perfume. “You sure you know how to get to the school?”
“I studied the Old Man’s map last night.
” Walter rolled his window down a crack for fresh air.
Sophia looked over at the gas gauge and thanked her lucky stars that it was Tuesday.
The Old Man had a ritual. He filled up both cars and the tractors every Sunday night. The Rambler had close to a full tank.
The morning was well underway when the Rambler coasted through the wrought-iron gates welcoming them to West Oak Forest Academy.
The lawns on either side of the road were so manicured, they looked like thick carpet.
As they drove through the circular roundabout, Walter let out a long whistle between his teeth, pointing out the fleet of expensive cars: Ford Thunderbird, Mustang, Jaguar, Plymouth Barracuda, Buick Riviera.
“You’re going to school with some fancy folks, Rusty. ”
The grounds were green, wide, and expansive beyond what her eye could see. “This place looks bigger than our entire county.”
“I doubt that. But it does sit on one hundred and seventy acres of land,” she said, quoting from the brochure.
The pea-size knot that had been in her belly when she woke had grown to the size of a beefsteak tomato.
Her mind had taken up a steady chant. Ma Deary was right.
She wouldn’t be able to keep up. Why hadn’t she listened?
She should have been feeding the hens and pulling the eggs, milking the cows, and preparing breakfast for the twins.
“We should turn back,” she said, panicked. “Stop the car. Please, Walter! Let’s go home.”
Walter had located the administrative building at the center of campus. It was distinguished by white columns and a grand double staircase.
“Seriously, Walt. I’m not kidding.” Sophia grabbed her stomach. She hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast, but she could feel the bubble of bile coming up. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Her brother pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. “Rusty, listen to me. You belong here. And it’s not because you dyed your red hair black.”
“I can’t do this,” she insisted.
“Opportunities like this come up for kids like us once in a lifetime. If you go home, they might not open this door for the next Negro from Prince Frederick.”
“I’m overwhelmed. It’s too much.”
“Look at me.”
Sophia turned in her seat.
“You are Sophia Clark. You have earned this. Now go. ’Cause I’m not taking an ass beating for nothing.” He pressed a dollar bill in her hand, leaned across her seat, and pushed her door open.
She knew her brother was right. They had come too far for her to turn back. “Can you at least walk me in?”
“Not in my overalls, Rusty. I don’t want to make you look like a country bumpkin. Now go on, get.” He gave her his gap-toothed smile.
Sophia carried her bag up the formidable stone staircase, looking around to see if anyone was watching her.
There was a squat Negro man trimming the hedges, but he was focused on the task at hand.
She pushed the double doors open and stepped into the cool lobby, following the sign to the administrative office.
Behind the desk sat a pale woman with tendrils curled around her ear.
“Can I help you?” She took in Sophia with her thin lips set.
“Yes.” Sophia’s voice squeaked. “I’m Sophia Clark. A new student here.” She held out the papers that Mrs. Brown had given her. Last night Sophia had forged Ma Deary’s signature.
The woman silently picked Sophia apart with her blue eyes before accepting the paperwork. “You from that program? The Prosser Foundation?”
“Yes, ma’am. Tenth grade. I’ve just arrived.”
“Don’t you have any parents?” the woman said, looking past Sophia.
“They work in D.C. and just dropped me off to get ahead of traffic,” she said, repeating the lie that she and Walter had concocted.
“Where’s your birth certificate?”
Sophia paused. Mrs. Brown hadn’t told her to bring it.
“You’re not supposed to start school without a birth certificate,” the woman said.
Sophia stuttered. “I… must have… left it in my mother’s car.”
The woman wheeled her chair to the file cabinet behind her. She spun around, thumbing through the second drawer. What if she told Sophia she had to go back home? She was sure Walter had left. The woman turned toward her desk with a sheet of paper that she pushed toward Sophia.
“We need that birth certificate, but I’m going to go ahead and let you get settled. Here’s your room assignment and your class schedule.”
The woman looked over at a young brunette with white ribbons in her hair, standing against the wall. “Patty, will you show Sophia to the W5 dormitory?”
Patty shook her head violently. “No, ma’am. My parents told me I cannot talk to any of the Negro students.”
The woman pursed her lips in a way that conveyed to Sophia that she was satisfied with Patty’s answer.
She pointed. “Well, if you go down the steps and make a right, you’ll come to a path.
Walk past the tennis courts, and on the other side of the pool, you’ll see a big bush.
Then go to the left, and the dorms will be right there.
Can’t miss it. Big old brick building. Room 202.
” The woman said this loudly, like Sophia was hard of hearing.
“Thank you,” Sophia said. She walked back to the door, where she had strategically left her train case out of sight because it was tattered and the handle frayed.
As she moved through the double doors, she heard the woman mutter, “God help us. The founding fathers must be rolling over in their graves with all this desegregation stuff. Just doesn’t make sense. ”
The directions were so awful that, by the time she finally located the dormitory, sweat had stained her only white blouse.
Ma Deary’s platform Mary Janes clicked loudly against the porcelain-tiled floor.
As Sophia read the numbers on the doors, she could still smell manure on her despite her water-bucket bath.
She felt the grime of dirt underneath her fingernails, even though she had used a piece of cardboard to clean-pick them on the drive over.
The farm was not easy to wash off. It was like a bloodstain.
She could blot it, but it never quite went away.
According to the numbers, she had made it to the correct floor.
Room number 202 was the last one on the right.
Now that she was standing in front of the brown wooden door, she wondered what to do next.
Should she knock or just open it? She decided to do both and rapped twice while turning the knob.
The door scratched against the floor, and the hinges creaked.
The room was sunlit, spacious, and smelled of lavender.
On the left was a bed made with blankets folded and tucked neatly around the edges of the mattress.
“Hello,” Sophia called.
On the right was a shapely girl stretched out on the bed, clutching a book. Her wavy hair was neatly parted down the middle and gathered in two ponytails. When she saw Sophia, she swung her feet around and sat up.
“Hi. I think we are roommates?” Sophia made it sound like a question, but it was most definitely a statement. Her name was tacked to the door.
“It’s nice to make your acquaintance,” the girl said formally. Then she stood, wiped her hand on her dark gray skirt, and stuck out her hand. “I’m Wilhelmina Pride, but my friends call me Willa.”
Her palm was as soft as cotton, and Sophia was painfully aware of how callused and dry her hand must have felt in comparison.
“Nice to meet you, Willa. I’m Sophia Clark.
” She opened her mouth to say her friends called her Rusty.
But that wasn’t true. Now, with her new black hair, at her new school, she would be known only as Sophia.
Even though Sophia stood in her best skirt and blouse, she paled next to her new roommate. Wilhelmina had startling green eyes and looked well kept. Even in the drab school uniform, she still looked like well-to-do was her everyday attire.
“Are you a freshman?” Willa asked, breaking the silence.
“No, sophomore.”
“You do realize that you’ve already missed the welcome parties and the first two days of class? Did you have a long way to travel?”
“Sort of.” Sophia couldn’t tell the truth of why she’d arrived late and was glad when Willa changed the subject.
“Well, I’ve been hiding out here during my free period because some of these white people are positively crazy. Lunch is at eleven-thirty if you are hungry. Have you received your schedule?”
Sophia pulled it from her bag and offered it over.
Willa scrunched her nose. “We don’t have any classes together, but let’s meet at the foot of the girls’ building and walk to dinner together, and I’ll introduce you to the others.”
“What do you mean?”
“The other Negro students. There are five of us in total.”
“On this whole gigantic campus?”
Willa nodded. “They didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“We are the first Negro girls to ever attend Forest. The boys started last year.” Willa slipped into her leather saddle shoes. “Since I have arrived, I’ve been feeling like Rosa Parks.” She smirked. “But as my mother says, the first must open the doors for the next.”
“Do you know where I can find my uniform?”
“It’s in the top of your closet. If it doesn’t fit, you’ll have to go back to the administrative office for an exchange.”
“Thank you.” Sophia stood.
“I need to stop by the library before my next class. I’ll see you at dinner.” The door closed with a click.
Sophia sat down on her bed gingerly, afraid of messing it up.
Her brain was on overload, trying to understand all that she had done in just a few hours.
She had moved from one end of the state to the other without parental consent.
Forged her way into Forest. Had Willa said they were the first Negro girls to attend the school?
Sophia and her brothers had sat around their black-and-white television about five years before, watching a little girl named Ruby Bridges being escorted to elementary school by federal marshals.
Watching this take place on television was one thing, but Sophia didn’t consider herself a front-liner.
She had come here to get away from the farm, not to break barriers.
To receive an education so that she could grow up and work in an office.
She was barely strong enough to keep the twins from ripping each other’s hair out.
And what was she going to do about getting her birth certificate?
As she rose to unpack her suitcase, she tried not to worry about any of it. Though there was one nagging thought that wouldn’t leave her mind: Ma Deary would be waking up soon. Once she found out that Sophia had escaped, would she drive to the campus and demand that she return home?