“There are some odd things here,” I said, pointing. “Do you see the ax? Those little red spots are blood drops coming off it. I don’t know what that—”
“Weren’t no ax.” Mama Nelle shook her head. “’Twas a hammer.”
It was my turn to frown. “What do you mean, ‘a hammer’?”
She quickly turned her face away from me, tightening her lips as if she’d said too much.
“Can you tell me what you mean by a hammer?” I tried again.
She looked back at the photograph and another smile came to her face. She laughed, tapping a long finger on the motorcycle, which was still grimy but identifiable. “I ’member that!” she said. “Jesse done cover it over. Miss Anna, she paint it again. Jesse cover it again.”
I was lost. “What do you mean?” I asked.
She lifted her watery gaze to my face. “You know you got to be quiet about her, right?” she asked me in a hushed voice.
“Why?” I asked, wishing I had the key to unlock this old woman’s skittering brain. “Why do I need to be quiet about her?”
She only pressed a finger to her lips again, and I sighed.
“All right, yes, I’ll be very quiet about her.” I looked at the grainy newspaper photograph, which now rested on my knees, and ventured the question that disturbed me the most. “Mama Nelle,” I said. “Do you know if Miss Anna killed herself?”
Behind her glasses, Mama Nelle’s dark eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no, child!” she said. “Why, that girl? She couldn’t even kill a chicken.”
Chapter 28
ANNA
January 12–15, 1940
The morning started out very well, the day full of promise. Miss Myrtle, Ellen Harper—the salesgirl from the Patsy Department Store—Freda, and Mayor Syke’s wife, Madge, all came to the warehouse to pose for the cartoon. Anna had borrowed dresses for Miss Myrtle, Ellen, and Miss Madge from a local historian Mr. Arndt had put her in touch with. The women changed their clothes one by one in the revolting warehouse bathroom, laughing over too tight bodices and scratchy petticoats. Then Anna sat the three Tea Party ladies around a crate they pretended was a table. The ladies giggled too much for grown women, but all in all, Anna was happy with the way her drawing turned out on the cartoon paper.
Freda was the real star in the modeling department, though. Because she never spoke, Anna had never really seen her teeth. When Freda smiled, as Anna asked her to do for the portrait, the woman displayed beautiful white teeth and a fetching smile. Anna’s plan was for Freda to hold out her apron full of peanuts. Anna had the apron, but no peanuts, so she would have to add them to the drawing later.
Jesse arrived before Anna was even finished sketching the women. She wasn’t surprised by his early, enthusiastic arrival, and without a word, he began cutting wood for the braces on the stretcher as she continued working with the women.
She was both exhausted and elated by the time the models left. Then Theresa and Peter arrived. Peter joined Jesse at work on the stretcher, but Theresa took Anna aside.
“My daddy won’t let me work here if he’s here,” she whispered, nodding in Jesse’s direction.
Anna was momentarily confused. “Why not?” she asked. “Do you know something about him I should know?” She recalled asking Martin the same question.
Theresa shook her head. “I ain’t never even seen him before yesterday,” she said, “but I can’t work with no colored boy.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Anna said. “He hopes to be an artist, just like you. The three of you are here to learn.”
“My daddy—”
“Why did your daddy even need to know?” Anna said, aware she was crossing a line. Theresa stared at her with disbelief that Anna would suggest she withhold such significant—to her—news from her father. Across the warehouse, Anna heard a burst of laughter from the boys. It warmed her. At least the two of them were getting along well.
“You don’t understand,” Theresa said.
“No, I guess I don’t,” Anna said wearily. “It’s up to you, Theresa. Jesse is working here. I’d like you to also work here. The choice is yours.”
“It ain’t right, what you’re asking.” She looked away from Anna, her coral-colored mouth set. “I got to leave.” And with that she stomped across the concrete floor, grabbed her coat from a hook on the wall, and headed out the door.
The boys looked up from their work.
“Theresa’s decided she doesn’t want to work here,” Anna said simply.
“What the—” Peter said, wrinkling his brow in confusion, but Anna watched Jesse go right back to work, measuring and hammering. He knew. She had the feeling that beneath his dark skin, his cheeks were burning.
Anna found Pauline to be a delightful traveling companion on their drive north to Norfolk, at least for the most part. They talked about what it was like growing up in Edenton and how Karl proposed to her (on a small boat while paddling through one of the many creeks in the area) and then Pauline shared all the gossip she could possibly remember about people in town. There was certainly plenty of it. She didn’t ask Anna much about herself, and that was fine. Anna still didn’t feel ready to talk about her mother with anyone.
“How many teenagers are working with you?” Pauline asked when she’d exhausted every salacious story she could think of about her fellow Edentonians.
“Just two,” Anna said. “Two boys. The girl quit because one of the boys is colored. She said her father wouldn’t approve.”
Pauline laughed. “I’m sure she’s right,” she said. “Who’s her father?”
Anna shrugged. “I haven’t met him. Her name is Theresa Wayman.”
“Oh, good heavens,” Pauline said. “Do you know who her father is?”
“I have no idea,” Anna said.
“Riley Wayman is president of the bank. A real bigwig in town.”
His name suddenly sounded familiar. Someone at that first meeting she’d had with the “movers and shakers” must have mentioned him.
“Well, is he that much of a jackass that he’d make his daughter quit working with me because of Jesse?”
“That and more,” Pauline said.
“I haven’t heard a peep out of her father, so I think everything is all right,” Anna said. “Of course Theresa only walked out on me Friday, so who knows, but I’m not worried about it.”
Pauline didn’t respond for a moment. From the corner of Anna’s eye, she saw her staring straight ahead through the window, blue eyes catching the sunlight. Finally, she took in a breath and turned to Anna. “I guess you have to ask yourself if having this Jesse helping you is going to create more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Of the three of them he’s by far the most talented,” Anna said. “And he’s passionate about art. He really needs more exposure to it, though. He needs the chance to visit museums. To get to study other artists. I wish I had my art books here to share with him.” She heard the rise in her voice. The enthusiasm. And she felt Pauline’s eyes on her.