January 11, 1963 CONT.
Annabeth had just lit the lantern when she saw Terry coming from the woods. She lifted her head briefly to smile his way, noticing the small blanket that he carried in his hands.
The moment they greeted each other was laced with nervous energy, the two of them unsure as to how they were expected to say their hello's now that they had shared their first kiss.
Annabeth looked down at the ground to where the milk crates used to be and frowned.
"Daddy gave the extras to Mr. Ryker," Annabeth sighed. "Hope you don't mind sitting on the ground."
Terry shrugged his shoulders and took the last few steps toward the wall, sliding down the wood until his bottom hit the dirt. Annabeth followed him with her eyes before she lowered herself to the cold earth beside him.
Terry unfolded the blanket and spread it over both of their legs, scooting himself closer to Annabeth so the fabric would cover them completely.
Terry reached over and picked up Annabeth's hand, turning it over so that it rested palm up in his.
"In New Orleans, there are women who believe they can tell your future by simply looking at your hand," he said as he began to delicately trace the lines in Annabeth's palm. "Have you heard of them? Fortune tellers? Voodoo Queens?"
"Only when Pastor Jameson condemns them in church," she answered meekly.
Trying to find her voice was difficult with Terry softly running his fingers over the inside of her hand. To say that she enjoyed his touch was truly an understatement.
"It's not uncommon for man to crucify that which they don't understand," Terry mused. "I've met voodoo queens of the French Quarter and they're probably some of the most interesting women I've ever met. Their families have been practicing the craft since they were held in captivity as slaves. It's become just as much a way of life for them as running this farm is to your family. They have stories to share that would make your head spin."
"I have no doubt," Annabeth smiled, in awe of all the places Terry had been and the unique experiences he had. "And did they share your fortune with you?"
Terry stopped tracing patterns on her palm and looked up at Annabeth with a sneaky grin. He slid his fingers over her hand completely, locking their fingers together before he placed them underneath the blanket and on his knee.
"It's like blowing out candles on a birthday cake or wishing on a star. If I tell you what she said, maybe it won't come true."
"What did she tell you? Must've been something great if you aren't willing to share and risk it."
"Let's just say, with every rainbow comes a storm."
Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows and crunched her nose, curious as to what he meant and what the woman had said.
Terry laughed at her expression and threw their linked hands over her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Then, he leaned his head down and kissed the top of her head, causing a warmth to spread through her body.
"If I tell you what she said, you must promise not to tell another soul," he whispered, leaning his head on hers, their hands still linked at her shoulder.
"Cross my heart," she replied with a grin.
"Alexandrine Berangere met me in the foyer of her Grandmother's small shop and greeted me by name even though I'd never set my eyes on the woman in my life. She asked me how I was enjoying Louisiana as opposed to Alabama. Then, she offered her condolences on the passing of my brother."
"And you'd never met before?" Annabeth questioned disbelievingly.
"Never," he promised. "Clearly, her presence left me on edge and I almost booked before we even got to the part where she told me my future. Instead, my curiosity got the better of me and I followed her back into this little room that smelled like frankincense and candle wax. I sat at a small table and she sat across from me. Without warning, she reached out and took my hand, flipping it over on the table to study my palm..."
*flashback- 3 years prior*
Terrance couldn't help but shake his knee nervously underneath the small, wooden table. His eyes darted every which way, his nerves overtaking his body. Hanging fabric flooded the room, candles lit on every surface. The smells of incense and marijuana permeated his nose and his senses were on high alert. The human skull in the corner did nothing to calm his thoughts, nor did the varying hand sized rag dolls that packed the shelves in the over-crowded space.
This trip to New Orleans was one of the first he'd taken as a vigorous activist. How he had ended up in an essentially unseen Voodoo shop in the French Quarter was beyond him- Even though he was pretty sure he could thank Henry for putting the idea in his head with all the talk of New Orleans witches on the train ride over.
The allure of knowing your future is a great one, and once it was a notion in his head, Terry had a hard time letting go. That was always a problem for Terrance. A plan would bloom and he would have to follow it through, never giving himself time to rethink the situation or the idea.
As this mysterious woman reached across the table and snatched his hand, he regretted this flaw of his- And not for the first time. His impulsiveness had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.
The woman squeezed his hand and eyed his palm only briefly, before looking up and meeting Terry's eyes with hers.
"I see great conflict, child," the woman recited in her thick Cajun drawl. "But with great conflict is sure to come great reward. You're certain to be in the line of fire, but the winds of change will protect you from yourself and from those around you who are not who they say they are. Women will come and go until one woman will grip your heart with an unwavering virtue and light so unpolluted that you'll have no choice but to lure her into your world- The exact place she's supposed to be- Even if she can't always be with you. A family tragedy will separate the weak and through time and space this love will conquer, but only if you're both willing to sacrifice for the other."
Terry scoffed.
"You see all of this from my palm."
"I see all of this in your eyes, child," the woman answered. "Your palm tells stories of wealth, prosperity and life. But your eyes, they truly do show your soul."
Shortly thereafter, Terry paid the woman and was on his way, but he never could get her words free from his mind, or the look of honesty in her eyes when she spoke them.
***
Annabeth and Terry spend the rest of the night talking about nothing and everything. They laughed with each other, shared more stories of their childhood and their youthful indiscretions. In the hours between 10 P.M and sunrise the two learned more about each other than they had ever learned about another person in a single sitting.
Terry noticed Annabeth begin to shiver and pulled her into his lap to rest between his legs, bringing the blanket up to her chin and wrapping his arms firmly around her stomach.
"I should have you go before you catch your death," Terry whispered, his head tucked next to hers, his breath a whisper on her neck.
"I'm not ready to say goodnight," she yawned, resting her cheek against his chin, causing him lean down to kiss her shoulder and pull her tighter against him.
"Three days," Terry said, referring to the time they had agreed to meet again.
Annabeth sighed, a puff of air escaping her cold, purple lips.
"Three days," she repeated, knowing that it wouldn't be soon enough.
***
January 14, 1963
To Annabeth and many others, it was a sad day for the state of Alabama.
George Wallace had taken power as Governor and many couldn't help but fear what might come next.
Wallace was a renown racist. He had the nerve to declare "Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever," to the world without a care at all. Watching it on the nightly news made Annabeth sick to her stomach.
Reginald was as happy as Reginald was capable of being and took the family out to dinner to celebrate. Annabeth pouted in the booth of Jim's diner as she twirled her straw in her coke. She had no interest in celebrating such a barbaric and inhumane existence.
She barely picked at her food, thinking of how unfair the world was for people of color- For people like Terry.
Terry, who's only determined flaw was being born of a darker complexion.
To Annabeth, this wasn't a flaw at all. But no one asked and no one cared what she thought either way.
The bells chimed as the door to the restaurant opened and Bobby strolled in with his pal, Tommy, in tow. His eyes scanned the eatery and landed on where Annabeth sat miserably with her family. He muttered a few words to Tommy before they shook hands in departure and Bobby headed toward Annabeth's table.
"Excuse me, Sir," Bobby said, directing his attention toward Reginald respectfully. "I hope that I'm not intruding on family time but I was wondering if you would allow me to drive Miss. Annabeth home this evening."
Reginald, already in a good mood, was all too happy to oblige.
"Thank you," Annabeth breathed once they walked from the confines of Jim's. "If I had to hear my Daddy tell us how Wallace is going to restore Alabama to its former glory one more time, I swear to you, I was going to say something very unbecoming of a lady and get myself in a whole heap of trouble."
Bobby laughed as they turned the corner and headed toward his truck.
"I take it you're not too pleased with our new Governor," Bobby asked as he opened the passenger side door for her and extended a hand for her to climb into the seat.
"I'd say that's an understatement," she grumbled.
Bobby nodded his head and closed her door. She watched as he walked around the front of the truck and let himself into the driver's seat.
"I'm not fond of the man either," he agreed as he started the truck.
Annabeth couldn't stop her thoughts from being on Terry and the way she felt when she was with him. How would they ever be able to truly be together in a place where the hate ran so thick?
She looked toward Bobby and bit her bottom lip, the guilt eating away at her for leading him on the way she was. She really liked Bobby. He was truly a good man. He was the easy choice- the safe choice. Bobby would do everything he could to make and keep her happy. Annabeth knew that.
But Terry.
The way she felt when she was with him? She had never felt anything like that before. It was like standing on top of a tall building and looking down, the excitement building up in your belly as your body shakes with adrenaline. Or the feeling you get when you look at a beautiful painting and your body is overcome with warmth and comfort. Peace. Serenity. Excitement. Danger. Passion. Being with Terry was all those things and more, and she just couldn't get enough of him.
"It just seems like things are never going to change, Bobby," Annabeth sighed sadly.
"Things are changing, A.B. And not even Wallace is going to be able to stop it." Bobby said.
"I sure hope you're right."
"Oh, I am. And sometime soon, I'll show you what I mean."
"How so?" she questioned.
"You'll just have to trust me. Wait and see, A.B."
Annabeth thought about his strange comment as she wrote in her journal that night. She did trust Bobby. He was a good guy, blessed with a good heart. If she had to fall for any man, she could only hope that it would be a man like Bobby.
Instead, she had fallen hopelessly in love with a colored boy, someone who would never be accepted into her world the way it was now. She wouldn't be able to walk down the street with him and hold his hand without judgement, ridicule and the fear of violence and hatred. She would never be able to have the easy life with Terry that she could have with someone as statistically right for her as Bobby Warren.
But in the words of a wise woman, "With great conflict is sure to come great reward."
Annabeth was willing to see where this conflict brought her. All she could do is hope that the reward would be worth it in the end.