The Color of Your Skin Ain’t the Color of Your Heart by Michael Phillips Read Free Book Online Page B

but what about all the other plantations around? What about everyone else?”
    “Dey mostly had dere cotton in an’ under cover or sol’ ter Mr. Watson weeks ago. Dat’s why I been wonderin’ what’s goin’ on at Rosewood when I seein’ you bring in dem scrawny little bales so slow an’ I’m wonderin’ ter myse’f, What dat Mistress Clairborne wastin’ so much time fer—don’ she know dat she’s gotter beat da rain? Dat’s why I come out. But hit ’peers I was jes’ a mite late ’cuz here’s da rain an’ dat cotton’s still on da stalk.”
    The four of us stood there silently staring out as the water poured down. Beside me, I felt Jeremiah’s fingers, then slowly he closed his big hand around mine. A tingle went through me. It made me feel warm inside, even though I was soaking wet. On the other side of me I glanced toward Katie.
    Tears were falling from her eyes. I think she realized the rain wasn’t going to stop.

F LOOD
    8

    T HE RAIN DIDN’T STOP. I T DIDN’T LET UP FOR three days. I’d never seen it rain so hard. And when it finally did let up, it didn’t stop but only slowed down a little. Already the streams and rivers had filled so full that a few of them were lapping at the top of their banks. As for the cotton, it wasn’t just wet—half the field sat under two or three inches of water. The first big rainstorm of the year turned out to be the worst storm Shenandoah County had seen in a dozen years. That’s what Henry told us later that folks were saying.
    Katie was somber and so were the rest of us. From being so hopeful such a short time earlier, now our hopes of raising the money to pay off Rosewood’s second loan were gone.
    We didn’t see Henry or Jeremiah again for several days. We didn’t know it, but after the third day of rain we were cut off from them anyway. The river had come up over the road in several places and we couldn’t have gotten to Greens Crossing if we’d wanted to, or anyone from there to us.
    We stayed inside, not doing much but trying to keep a good fire going and keep dry and warm. The cows, of course, couldn’t go out to pasture and had to stay in, and that took more work because we had to feed them and clean up after them. None of us realized the danger we were in from the stream that wound west of the house. I’d gone down the road to keep an eye on the river, which was about a half mile northeast and then wound in closer by one of the cotton fields. And while the river was getting mighty huge and was spilling over the road in spots, it was still too far away from us to cause us any worry. But it’s a funny thing about floods, sometimes the littlest streams can grow as big as rivers. And without us even realizing it, the stream that went through the woods at Katie’s secret place was quickly becoming a river and was overflowing its banks. Though it wasn’t moving fast, it was spreading out everywhere and flowing over the fields toward Rosewood.
    Katie was the first to see it. She was upstairs one day and absently glanced out the window of Emma’s room, a window facing west. All of a sudden she gasped in astonishment. ‘
    ‘Mayme!” she cried. “Mayme, come up here … there’s a lake out there! A whole lake I can’t even see the end of. The road toward Mr. Thurston’s … it’s gone. It’s covered by water!”
    By then we had all heard her and were running upstairs to see the sight.
    I don’t know if we were really in any danger. The house and barn and other Rosewood buildings sat on slightly higher ground than any of the surrounding fields. But seeing the water so close, and stretching out in three directions farther than we could see, was about as fearsome a sight as I’d ever seen in my life. The look on Katie’s face wasn’t just concern, it was a look of terror.
    I don’t think we had felt so helpless since we’d been together as we did at that moment. All four of us just stood there in silence. The sight struck awe into us.