LIZZY Read online

  Martin’s head bowed as he slowly walked over to the steps. He looked up at her and she could see the color drain from his face.

  “What’s happened Martin?” Lizzy reached for Martin’s arm. She saw his expression and knew something terrible had happened. She stepped down towards where he now stood, his one hand on the telegram and the other covering his mouth.

  “Oh God, Lizzy.” Martin’s voice was muffled, barely audible. His eyes stared blindly at the ground in front of him.

  “Martin, you’re scaring me. What’s happened?”

  “Garfield’s been shot,” Martin said, barely above a whisper.

  Lizzy felt sick at just the sound of Martin’s voice and the words that he was trying to convey. She looked up at him for any sign of hope. She could see him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly as he stared down and read the telegram again. She followed his head as it methodically moved from left to right, his lips silently mouthing the words that he read. An eternity of time elapsed as Martin read the telegram over and over again, hoping that the words would change.

  Martin looked up at her and let out a gasp, his whole demeanor instantly changing.

  “Oh my God, Lizzy!”

  “What now?” Lizzy was afraid to ask.

  “They actually think he’s going to be all right.” He choked out a chuckle. “I couldn’t read the whole thing, too shocked I guess, but, well, it goes on to say that they expect him to have a full recovery.”

  Martin let his shoulders relax, shaking his head in disbelief. He held tightly to the telegram and looked at Lizzy, his color still pale.

  Lizzy reached for him and pulled him to her. As they held each other, Lizzy whispered in his ear. “Hey, you see? He’ll be back on his feet before you know it, and then everything will be just fine.”

  Martin looked at her as she repeated, “See, he’s going to be fine; you just wait and see.” Seeing that he wasn’t convinced, she continued, “He’s going to be just fine, Martin . . . I can feel it.”

  Lizzy whispered a third time as she hugged him tight and felt his body relax as he let out a slow and exhaustive breath of air.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Reunion of Memories

  1885

  Lizzy hadn’t realized how long she’d been gone. She felt as if she’d been staring at the house for at least an hour. The sunflowers were in full bloom and the smell of wild garlic reminded her of her childhood. Oddly, her father’s house looked different. Despite the fact that she’d grown up there and her own children knew every inch of the place, to Lizzy on this sunny, yet breezy day it seemed old and run down, not the way she remembered it. After hearing Martin’s dreadful news, she knew she had to get away, to take a walk and see the town, her town, one last time.

  She had such fond memories of this house and knew that it was going to break her heart to say goodbye. It was the house that they had rebuilt when her father had decided to stay on in Wheeling just after the war. As she looked at it from under the large tree out in front, she smiled at the thought of her father hiding out under the porch. With a pet chipmunk to boot.

  “Oh Papa, you must have been quite the little boy. I can see where William gets it from, that’s for sure!”

  When Lizzy walked up to the porch, she tried to envision what it was like when her father had to say goodbye to his own parents. Right over there on the steps, I bet. Something about a missionary trip or something. Lizzy vaguely remembered the story, but what she did remember was the pain in her father’s voice as he told it.

  The night before as the family sat for supper, Martin announced that the state capital was once again being moved to Charleston. The words hit Lizzy like a brick. Wheeling was her home. This was where most of her ancestors were laid to rest. This was where she’d raised her own children. But now it was going to be her duty as a wife to follow her husband.

  Saying goodbye to all you cherish is not coming easy, girl. She breathed in hard and tried to shake herself out of her thoughts. She stared at the front door, with its screen ripped in two. Oh Papa, your house. . . .

  She turned to look out into the yard and to the giant oak. I know that I need to support him and be there for him, just like before. Lizzy’s memory shifted back a few years when the hopes of President Garfield’s full recovery from his gunshot wound were shattered. She remembered the endless nights of talking and consoling each other after his death. It had been like a reenactment of an old nightmare, only the end was just as surreal as the last assassination of a president only sixteen years earlier. She tried to brush off the cold shiver that trickled down her spine. She felt her body shake as she took in a slow, deep breath as she walked down the front steps and towards the front drive.

  In just a short while, she approached the old house where her great-grandparents Jacob and Hannah had lived. It had been vacant for years, although a small family had lived in it for about a year or so in the early ’70s. Other than that, no one had taken care of it. The thought made her feel guilty as much as she tried to brush it off. The old house was in such disarray that it was hard for Lizzy to visualize some of the stories she’d been told as a child. She carefully walked around to the side of the house that faced the river. The tall grass was now halfway up the side of the dried wooden siding and shutters had been nailed in to cover the windows. She could hear the sound of water crashing over the rocks from the river and smiled softly. She remembered the tales and became absorbed. Well, at least we know there’s a bit of hope down there, hey Lizzy? She smiled at the memories of the many tales told by her father of how much the river had meant to her ancestors.

  She turned away from the river and moved up towards the back door. Oh Papa, if you’d only talked more about them. I can’t feel them here!

  After a quick shake of the head, she turned her attention back to the sounds of the water below. She glided across the leaf-covered patio and down the two steps to her left. She could see what used to be a path, but now much of it was overgrown. She did her best to follow the course she thought may have been her great-grandparents’ trail and to her delight, it eventually took her to the river’s edge.

  It’s so beautiful here. She looked at the river, which was, to her, more like a large stream. Lizzy scolded herself for not visiting the place more often, especially since she’d lived just across town. At least I could have come here to the water, for Christ’s sake.

  She pulled up her dress and followed the path along the river’s edge. She knew what she was headed for, but she just had to see it one last time. As she walked along, she thought of the diary. She teased herself for being the romantic and soon felt a whole different emotion come over her. She looked down at her feet and then to the path just ahead of her. The story filled her mind. The one story that her father did tell her and her brothers so many times. An eerie feeling came across her. She felt as if her great-grandfather was right alongside her, walking with her, just as he had on his very last walk.

  Lizzy picked up a dead branch and tossed it to the side. After moving a few rocks that had fallen, she stepped back and looked on. Her mind froze. She could still hear her father’s words: “Half on the landing and half in the water.”

  She knelt down and scooped up a handful of sand and looked at it. “Monroe’s Landing Sand.” She dropped the sand from her hand. She had a hard time envisioning the whole scene. The landing where her father had found her great-grandpa Jacob. The story of how he so lovingly described it when he found him. “Like he’d fallen asleep, still with a smile on his face.”

  The area was overgrown with weeds and dead limbs. The stream was littered with fallen trees and an abundance of dried leaves. The water from the river still rushed through though and the sound of it crashing over the rocks made her smile. I bet he came here often just to listen to that sound. My God, how soothing it must have been for him, especially after his Hannah had died.

  She thought of Hannah and the beautiful words that she’d read in her diary. It had taken her awhile to rea
d the whole thing . . . between taking care of a husband and four children, she reminded herself. The words were clear to her though, very clear. Yet, to Lizzy, it still wasn’t clear as to what it was that she could do to honor Hannah’s requests. She looked up and down the river, across the way to Wheeling Island and up over to her great-grandparents’ home in hopes that she’d see a sign, feel a message, something that would tell her what it was that she was supposed to do now. She took in a deep breath and turned towards the trail that would lead her away from the river. And away from my childhood and where I desperately want to stay.

  Lizzy looked around the yard and at the sun glistening through the branches of the large tree out front. She could tell that the day was growing long and although she was enjoying her memories, she needed to get home. Best be getting back home before the children send the dogs after me.

  On her way home, she walked past Wheeling Church and a plethora of memories swarmed in: her father preaching, the choir singing and most of all, the Christmas Eve service when her brother Micah came back home. She stopped and walked up to the front of the church. She placed the palm of her hand on the door and rubbed it slowly.

  “Oh Micah, my dear, dear brother Micah. You did make an entrance here, there’s no denying.”

  Lizzy turned and went back across the street, stopped and turned around. She looked up at the freshly painted steeple pointing upward. She was pleased that the church had been taken care of and she hoped that the new pastor would enjoy his work as much as she knew her father had.

  A smile appeared on her face as she turned to walk towards her home. At the next corner, she felt a gust of air hit her. She put her hands up to cover her face and as fast as it was there it was just as quickly gone. She brushed herself off and patted down her hair. She noticed that a hair pin had fallen and as she bent down to retrieve it, she saw a shadow of a person in front of her.

  Startled, she rose in an instant, forgetting about the hair pin and gazed up at a woman, a black woman, looking right at her.

  “Miss Lizzy Monroe?” the woman asked.

  “Uh, well yes, I mean, I used to be Lizzy Monroe,” Lizzy stuttered nervously, patting her hair where the hair pin had fallen out. “I’m ah, well, I’m Mrs. Martin McKeever now, Lizzy McKeever. Do I, I mean, have we met?” Lizzy asked.

  “No ma’am, but I’s just knowed it was you. I was told that this here’s was the town yous all lived in and I’s just had to comes sees it and sees if I could fines you.”

  Lizzy tilted her head and studied the woman. She racked her memory of the many black women she and Martin had helped but nothing was registering.

  “Please forgive me, but I’m a bit confused,” Lizzy said, much calmer now. “You knew it was me and you heard that we lived here? Do I know you, maybe from the Railroad or from . . . ?”

  “No, no, no, it’s not likes dat at all, Miss Lizzy.”

  “Please don’t call me ‘Miss Lizzy.’ Just Lizzy will be fine.” Lizzy put her hand up and stopped the woman. “But do forgive me; you know my name, but I’m at a disadvantage. I do apologize, but I don’t remember yours.”

  Lizzy stared at the woman and tried again to remember. The woman looked to be about the same age as Lizzy, but her hair had greyed more. Her face was weather worn and her hands looked callused. She had the build of a woman who’d endured some hard times, but her demeanor impressed Lizzy as someone who had found the peace of God.

  “Are you staying here in Wheeling?” Lizzy asked the woman when she hadn’t provided her name. “Do you have family here?”

  “Oh no, I means yes’um, well, I’s means dat I’s just passing through, but . . . but it was dis place that I knew I had to makes a stop,” she said as she looked over at the church.

  “Is dat the Wheeling Church, Miss?”

  “Well, I guess you could say that; it was my father’s church, but he just recently died.”

  “Dat’s the church that he said he’d go to, da one’s that he’d knowed you’d be.”

  “The church that who would go and who would know?”

  Lizzy started to get nervous. She’d been around many people after the war who had lost their senses and she had the feeling that this woman just might be one of them.

  “Would you care to walk with me?” she asked, hoping to get some answers.

  “Sure, Missus; it’s beens so long, but I’s still can see his face, hears his voice. In facts—”

  “Whose voice?” Lizzy stopped, turned and blurted out unaware of how it sounded. “You talk as if you know me, but forgive me because I don’t know you. Who is it that you are here to see?”

  “Oh, I’s sorry, Misses, but it’s your brudder . . . your brudder Micah.”

  “M-my brother Micah?” Lizzy stammered as she tried to regain her senses. “I . . . I’m sorry Miss, uh, Miss—”

  “Oh, goodness sakes, ma’am, I’s plumb lost my manners. It’s just, well, it’s just beens so long and wells, I used to calls myself Mrs. Monroe, but dat was ways back just afters da war.”

  “Mrs. Monroe?” Lizzy stopped abruptly. “What do you mean, Mrs. Monroe?”

  “Oh’s I can sees how you’d be surprised about dat and all, especially if yous brother nevers talks of me. I can’t say dat I’s not disappointed, especially on how’s close we’d got. But I’s surely think I’s understand, knowing the times and all. He’s dun tol’ me time and time again how he messed up real bad and wanted so much to make his peace wif ya all.”

  “His peace?”

  Lizzy felt numb. She looked around her to gather her bearings. She looked behind her and was surprised that they had walked over four blocks since they first met in front of the church. She looked ahead and could see James playing in the street with his best friend Alexander, the red-headed boy next door. She wondered if the girls were nearby and if it would be wise to continue walking closer, not knowing the sanity of this woman.

  “Who’s peace? My brother’s peace?” Lizzy demanded. “You’d better talk some sense lady, or—”

  “Oh please, Missus, I’s don’t wants to cause yous no fret and certainly no harm. I can sees how yous looked at that boy down the street. I sees it in you eyes. Dat’s your son, ain’t it? I’s can always sees the motherly look from a woman. I’s probably has it too. Us mudders and us womenfolk has lots in common, if’n the menfolks could finally get it in their thick skulls, that is.”

  Lizzy turned and glared at the woman. She studied her expression, the lines on her face, the blotched marks on the left side of her cheeks and the darkness of her eyes. She looked down the street to her house again; James and Alexander had moved out of the street, but she was still aware that her children were close by.

  “Why is it that for some reason, you remind me of some memory of mine? I should be most leery of you, protective of my family and defensive of your every move.” Lizzy reflected out loud, still studying the woman’s face. “But, for some reason, I’m not.”

  The woman’s face softened as she searched for Lizzy’s eyes. “Yours brudder softened up just as you’s just did. He’s and I’s got real close, like kin. I’s still remember us two crying like babes when we’s had to says our goodbyes. But you know sometin’, Missus? I’s just knowed that I’d see his face again, I’s just knowed. The odd parts is, I gots a mix of excitement and nerves. Just don’t knows what’s hitting me mo’. If meetin’ you’s is any sign of hows it gonna be, I’s mighty pleased, yes ma’am, I’s mighty pleased. You’s just like he’s told me, just like he’s told me. He sures loved you, Missus, just wants to tell you that befo’ I sees him again, he sures loved you.”

  Lizzy felt a knot in her stomach. She knew that this woman knew Micah, but how so and why was she here now? And why, for God’s sake, would she refer to herself as Mrs. Monroe? But, most importantly, how was it that she was going to tell this woman Micah wasn’t alive? Without realizing it, Lizzy had continued to walk with the woman. She now stood in front of her home. She stopped and so did the woman.
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br />   “This be your home, Missus?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Lizzy looked at her and then turned to look at her home. When she turned back to the woman, she could see that she was crying and her heart opened up to her.

  “Can you, I means, would you’s go in and tells him he has a visitor?”

  “Tell him?” Lizzy questioned.

  “Yes, Missus, it’s beens a long time, an’ I’s don’t wants him startled.”

  Lizzy froze, not knowing what do to.

  “Please, Missus, if you could just tell him that his Agatha would love to sees him again.”

  Lizzy jerked her head towards the woman as her jaw dropped.

  “You’re Agatha? The Agatha!?”

  “Yes, Misses, Agatha Monroe, but now’s I’s Agatha Porter, but Mista Micah, well he just knows me as plain ol’ Agatha. Oh Lordy, I’s so nervous and all. So if you’s please, Missus, I’s just dyin’ to sees him again.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Truth Is Hard to Hear

  1885

  It was eerily quiet. The children, once cheerfully playing outside, had now come in and were all seated in front of Agatha as she sipped on some warm tea, sympathetically offered to her by Martin. The afternoon sun was beginning to fade and Agatha looked unsettled not only by the news she’d just received from Lizzy, but also about the whereabouts of her own family.

  “Did you’s say dat word was sent for my husband and childen to come?” Agatha’s eyes met those of Martin, searching for answers.

  Looking over to Lizzy for reassurance, Martin replied, “Uh, yes we have, Agatha. I’m sure they’ll all be here real soon.”

  “You said that you now have three children?” Lizzy asked in an attempt to keep Agatha’s mind from worrying.

  “Yes Missus, I’s have a boy and two girls. They be a bit younger dan yours here, in facts, I’s think they be a lots younger.”

  Lizzy looked over at Martin with a questioning expression.

  “I’s just cant’s believe he’s gone, Misses, I’s just cant’s.” Agatha choked again. “We’s practically been together the whole last years of da war, ya know, together, his and me.”