Across the River - an 1800s Black / Native American Novella

Chapter 2

Johnny shook his head. "No, Mama. Uncle William is strong. When he helped us, that time the roof fell in, he got the whole thing fixed in less than a day. And Aunt Elizabeth made us that yummy dinner afterwards."

Naomi tweaked his nose. "You little sow cat! I think you had eight helpings of her sweetnins that night."

Johnny blushed, but she could almost see his mouth water at the memory.

Naomi smiled, standing again. Just like her own family, Elizabeth's Oxendine line was made up of mutts. A swirling mix of Lumbee, black, and who knew what else. Elizabeth had skin several shades darker than their own, not having been watered down by the Irish.

Naomi's brother adored Elizabeth, and Naomi felt blessed that the couple lived just an hour's walk away.

She patted Johnny's cheek. "Your cousin, Hiram, will be at church, so we best get a move on."

Johnny nodded, his eyes shining. "Hiram's just like me – he's brown like the tilled earth."

Polly wriggled against her, and Naomi adjusted the carry strap. "That's right, Johnny. The Good Lord made every person with their own color. We are like snowflakes. We're all different, and God wants us like that. It doesn't matter if my skin is dark or your daddy's skin is light. All that matters is how we use the gifts we have."

She folded her son's young hand within her own, snugged her daughter up on her chest, and together they stepped along the snowy path. Clumps of briars lined the edges, their brambles standing out sharply against the white. Off in the distance Naomi could hear the soft shush-shush of the river wending and twisting along the rocks.

It was another half hour before they approached the small settlement tucked around the church. The homes here were sturdier than her own, some with a second floor or attached barn. The church was painted white and boasted an elegant steeple up above its large double doors. Pastor Smith, his creased, brown face showing his advanced age, was standing in the doorway, shaking hands. He smiled as Naomi approached.

"Naomi! There you are. Always a pleasure to have you and your adorable children in our flock. Come on in – the fire's stoked and your pew is all ready. William and his family are already here."

Naomi nodded to him, then moved inside. Sure enough, she could see her brother's sturdy form, his curly, dark hair starting to streak with grey. Alongside him was his willowy, dark wife, Elizabeth. Elizabeth glowed with serenity and contentment; her dark-blue dress fit her with well-tailored style. At her side was their son, Hiram. Hiram was just two years older than Johnny.

Johnny's eyes lit up with delight. "Hiram!" He raced forward to sit alongside his cousin, and immediately their heads were together, sharing whatever it was young boys found most fascinating.

William and Elizabeth smiled fondly at Naomi as she settled onto the smooth wood of the pew. Their voices came in harmony. "Merry Christmas, Naomi."

Her heart warmed as she looked up her older brother. He'd been born a full ten years ahead of her, and he'd always kept an eye out for her. She could remember countless times that he'd pulled her down from a too-high tree or carried her on his strong shoulders when her tiny legs had given out.

William's gaze held her with tenderness, and then he looked down at the cloth horse in Johnny's hands. His face eased into a frown. "I thought –"

She cut him off with a shake of her head. "Johnny likes his horse. Santa brought it for him." She smiled at her precious son. "Don't you like your gift, my sweetheart?"

Johnny nodded enthusiastically. "He's gonna ride me wherever I want to go!"

William gave a tight smile to his nephew, his dark face creased with tender worry. "Of course you will, Johnny. You can do anything you set your mind to."