A week and a half had passed since the Mikawa fight. Grace was home and life had mostly returned to normal with a few small differences. Timber noticed how cold Grace was when speaking to Chad, and she kept shooting him dirty looks. Grace had become unpredictable and sometimes she would break down and cry. Other times, she would go outside with an air rifle and waste bullets, shooting them into tin cans. She had also become more protective of Timber and Emily. Neither of them minded. Chad had been banished to the office for the day. They only saw him during meals. Even then, Grace would glare at him from the other end of the table.
One Wednesday, Timber was having trouble sitting still during class. They had just finished the math lesson about double-digit multiplication and she was anxious to get started on her favorite subject; history. They were supposed to be starting a new topic and she couldn't have been more excited. She didn't know what they were going to be learning about but that didn't matter to her. She was bouncing in her seat slightly and she could see Xianna fighting back laughter when she saw her.
"Alright, now settle down please," said Mrs. Gibney. "I have to let you know that this new subject we're covering is, to some extent, sensitive for some. I am asking you to handle this maturely please."
The whole class sat unusually still. Even Timber stopped moving.
"We're going to talk about the history of slavery in the United States during the early years of this country. Slavery means that one human being is owned by another human being for the purpose of labor.
"Slavery in the United States was the legal institution of human enslavement of Africans and African Americans that existed in the United States of America in the 18th and 19th Centuries after we gained independence and before the end of the American Civil War. Slavery had been practiced in British North America from early colonial days and was legal in all Thirteen Colonies at the time of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, though more than half of our founding fathers, including George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, were against slavery and did everything they could to abolish it."
A hand went up in the air.
"It's illegal now, right?" asked Gina.
"Yes, slavery in the United States has been permanently banned, though it still happens in parts of Africa, China, and India, even today," replied Mrs. Gibney. "During and immediately following the Revolutionary War, abolitionist laws were passed in most Northern states and a movement developed to abolish slavery. Most of these states had more free labor than in the South and their economies were based on different industries. They got rid of slavery by the end of the 18th Century, some with gradual systems that kept adults as slaves for two decades. But the rapid expansion of the cotton industry in the Deep South after the invention of the cotton gin greatly increased demand for slave labor, and the Southern states continued as slave societies."
"So everyone picked cotton?" asked Kendra, forgetting to raise her hand.
"Some people worked in the houses," said Timber before Mrs. Gibney could reply. "They helped dress the women and take care of the children. They also cleaned, and cooked."
"That's right, Timber," said Mrs. Gibney.
She continued for another several minutes before she began to pass out sheets of paper for the class to read and a separate page with questions for them to answer. Timber sat there absorbing all of this new information like a sponge. She was both fascinated and disgusted by the history of slavery. She looked over at Gina who was struggling with this new information. She decided that she was going to ask Grace to take her to the library after school so she could learn more on her own. She noticed layers in the story she was reading and she wanted to pull it apart.
As usual, during their history lessons, Timber was the first one done. She raised her hand and Mrs. Gibney took her paper, looking surprised at Timber's lack of enthusiasm about new historical information. When the bell rang, Timber hurried over to Gina and wrapped her in a tight hug. The others followed suit and took turns hugging Gina. They walked with her to the school busses though she kept playing with the ends of her braids.
"Gina, are you okay?" asked Kendra.
"I don't know," said Gina. "It's hard to think that humans were capable of treating other humans like property just because of the color of their skin." The others looked at each other. "Am I ugly?"
Every girl stopped immediately and buried Gina. They stood there in the middle of the main hallway while their classmates walked by but they paid no attention to anyone else but Gina.
"Gina," said Xianna. "You are beautiful and we love you."
"But I'm darker than all of you, my hair is different, and..."
"Who cares?" said Kendra.
"Gina you are perfect just the way you are and if anyone says otherwise, they're idiots," said Ashley. "We're all different. I'm the only girl in the whole school with red hair."
"We're all different in our own way," said Timber. "That's what makes us all special. We love you, Gina."
Gina wiped her tears away and smiled.
"Come on, you guys don't want to miss the bus," said Timber and walked with them outside to see them off like she did every day.
After she got home from school, Grace took her to the library and went with Emily to the children's room while Timber went around looking for books. With some help from a very surprised librarian, Timber found a book about slavery in the United States and she sat down to read. She learned how slavery in America began when the first African slaves were brought to the North American colony of Jamestown, Virginia, in 1619 by Dutch traders, to aid in the production of tobacco. She learned about how an indentured servant was an employee within a system of unfree labor who was bound by a signed contract to work for a particular employer for a fixed time. Then she learned that the first legal slave owner in America was black and he owned white servants. She stared at the book for a few minutes. This was a contradiction from the page Mrs. Gibney had the class read. She made a mental note to point this out and she kept reading.
Then she decided to double-check her source and asked for another book to confirm her discovery. She sat there for an hour until Grace told her it was time to go, so she checked the books out and brought them home. She was so engulfed in learning that Chad had to take the book from her so she would eat her dinner. During dinner, she brought up a name she read in one of the books she was absorbing.
"Aunt Grace, did our family own slaves?" she asked.
Grace was something of a family history expert and Timber knew she would know because certain stories were always passed down through every generation.
"What brings this question up?" asked Grace with a look of surprise. She put down her buttermilk biscuit and the knife she was buttering it with.
"I saw the name Brogan in my library book," explained Timber.
"Unfortunately, yes," said Grace. "We owned a few. From what I understand, we were one of the few families who never sold slaves. They stayed with us until the Civil War. We were good to them. I have a journal somewhere around here from one of the slaves."
"I thought slaves were undereducated," said Timber. "White slave owners didn't want to fully educate them. The book said that some states allowed slaves to learn how to read but not how to write and others denied slaves education altogether."
"Most of them lacked education, but your great great grandmother took it upon herself to teach them to read and write even though she was frowned upon by the community for doing so. The journal says she was the kindest woman with no hint of a temper. In the end, it said that when the slaves were declared free, most wanted to stay because they were promised fair pay. So they stayed. I think my mother's best friend is descended from one of the former slaves."
"Could I read the journal?" asked Timber.
"When I find it, but you'll have to be very careful," said Grace. "It's very old."
"I will be." Timber finished her green beans quietly before another question popped into her head. "How old is the name Brogan?"
"I don't know," said Grace. "We came over from Britain before the thirteen colonies were established, though we come from France originally. We came over on the ship 'Supply' in 1620. Our immigrant ancestors came as an indentured servant. His father was a sheriff in England. The odd thing is, I'm the first girl to be born into this line of the Brogan family in over a hundred and seventy five years. We have girls from other lines. We were all happy when you turned out to be a girl too. Then Emily came along."
"That explains why the name is in the history book," said Chad. "I didn't know that about you. I also thought you were bad at history."
"Well, now you know," said Grace harshly. She shot him a slightly dirty look like she had been doing since the Mikawa. "I know about my family history. That's as good as it gets."
The next day during school, Timber told her friends about what she learned and she showed them the library book. Then she told them about what she learned from her Aunt Grace about their family history and that she had a journal from one of the slaves.
"Did you see the journal," asked Gina timidly.
This topic was particularly sensitive to Gina. The previous night she had found out that her ancestors had been slaves. She was doing her best to cope, though she said she was grateful that she lived now instead of then.
"Aunt Grace needs to find it," said Timber.
"Did you know his name?" asked Gina, looking a little tense.
"Johnson M. Thatcher," said Timber. "Why?"
Gina didn't say anything. Her eyes were absent of all expression, her face fell and she went away with her attention at her feet. Timber was confused as she watched her head toward the classroom.
"What's wrong with Gina?" asked Kendra. "She's never just walked away."
"Xianna, can I borrow your phone?" asked Timber. "I want to call my aunt."
Xianna handed Timber her cell phone from the small pouch in her backpack. She dialed the number and put it on speaker.
"Hello?"
"Aunt Grace, this is Timber. I'm using Xianna's phone. I have a question. Do you know if Johnson Thatcher is related to the name Owenby?"
"Give me a few minutes," said Grace.
Timber stood in the middle of the playground surrounded by Xianna, Kendra, and Ashley, waiting for Grace to reply. It took about five minutes before Grace got back on the phone.
"Timber? I just called my mother who had Mae with her. Yes. Johnson Thatcher's first daughter was born free. Her name was Gina Thatcher. She married Harrison Owenby and they are responsible for five generations of sons and daughters. Her father is descended from Gina and Harrison Owenby."
"So our family owned her family?" asked Timber, feeling mortified.
"Yes," said Grace. "I know you had nothin' to do with it, but I think you should apologize and invite her and her parents over for dinner tonight. I'll try to find the journal so she can see where her family came from."
"I'll do that, thank you." Timber hung up the phone and handed it back to Xianna.
"Poor Gina," said Ashley, looking toward the classroom with sad eyes. "She's probably so hurt right now."
"We need to go to her," said Kendra. "She needs us."
Timber felt so horrible she wanted to empty the contents of her stomach onto the tanbark beneath her feet. She knew Grace was right. It happened six or seven generations ago, but it was still their family history. Timber and Gina would always have that eternal link between their families and there was no way around it. She crawled back into silent timidity and the rest of the girls seemed to realize what was happening. They hauled her by the hands toward their classroom and she was left with no choice but to follow.
Gina was sitting at her desk with Mrs. Gibney beside her. Tears were flowing from her dark brown eyes. Timber hesitated for a moment while the others surrounded her, but then summoned up her courage and sat in front of Gina.
"What's wrong, Gina?" asked Xianna.
"Daddy told me about our family last night when I asked him about our homework," Gina explained. "He said the farthest back he can trace is Johnson Thatcher. I didn't want to believe him. I didn't want to believe that my ancestors were slaves. The existence of Thatcher's journal means it was all real."
"My grandma is best friends with one of his descendants," said Timber. Gina looked up at her in confusion. "My family was the ones who owned yours. My aunt wants you and your parents over for dinner. She has the journal and she wants to let you read it. She's looking for it right now."
"Your family owned mine?" repeated Gina, as though that was all she heard.
Timber nodded miserably and Gina broke down completely. She began weeping so hysterically, she could barely breathe. The bell rang and Mrs. Gibney sent Gina and Timber to the counselor's office so they could work it out. Timber, who had already shut herself down, wanted to cry for Gina, but her eyes only misted over slightly. Gina, on the other hand, needed to be guided to the office because her eyes were overflowing. She refused help from Timber and pulled away every time Timber touched her. Timber's heart was breaking for her. She couldn't begin to imagine the kind of pain Gina was feeling right now.
"I'm sorry, Gina," said Timber.
Gina fell to her knees and began screaming in devastation. Her voice caught the attention of everyone. Teachers came hurrying out of their classrooms. All Timber could think of to say was they were on their way to the counselor. A teacher's assistant picked Gina up and carried her to the office when it became apparent that she was in too much distress to move by herself. Timber followed close behind and explained to the second teacher what was happening. The teacher looked sadly at the two of them and told Timber it was going to be okay. Timber didn't believe her, though she wanted to.
They got to the office and Timber explained again what was happening. It was so hard to repeat the story, she kept nearly choking. Gina had just started to calm down, but at Timber's words, she went over the edge again. Timber kept struggling to get the words to come out of her mouth. She wanted badly to cry, but she built up so many walls over the last few months, she found herself incapable of producing tears. The teacher sat Gina down as a receptionist came over. Timber was called into the counselor's office and once again, she found herself telling the story about her family and Gina's family and the link between them.
At the end of Timber's account, she was sent out to sit with Gina. There were a few minutes of silence with the exception of an occasional hiccup. Then Gina was called into the office and Timber was left alone on the row of seats. Timber began to feel anger at her family for doing this to Gina. She couldn't help it. She felt her insides twist and she forced herself to calm down. She sat for twenty minutes when she smelled her aunt's perfume. She spun and saw Grace come around the corner.
"Hi, Timber," she said. "How's Gina doin'?"
"Not good," replied Timber. "She's in a lot of pain. She's been crying a lot. I feel so bad for her. I wish I could help but I don't know how."
"Mrs. Frunden?" asked a receptionist.
"Yes, Ma'am," said Grace. "The principal called and asked me to come in."
"Oh yes," she said. "We're waiting for Mr. Owenby, now."
Grace nodded and sat beside Timber.
"What's happening?" asked Timber. "Are we in trouble?"
"No, we're here for Gina," replied Grace. "I don't think any of us are prepared to deal with somethin' like this, though. This situation between you and Gina is unique."
"Is she going to be okay?"
"Yes, once she's had a chance to calm down. I found the journal. It was in my hope chest under my great grandmother's weddin' veil. I'm thinkin' of givin' it to her. It's her ancestor's journal, after all. Well, ours too, but I think she needs it more."
"I think she'd like that," said Timber. "Oh, I think he's here."
A few seconds later, a tall, dark-skinned man came in and saw Grace and Timber. He checked in and then the three of them were called into the counselor's office with Gina.
"Are you alright, Baby Girl?" Mr. Owenby said, hugging his daughter.
She didn't reply but she fell limp in her father's arms. He held her tight but it seemed Gina was all cried out. She just closed her eyes and fell asleep.
"Now I understand that they had just started learning about slavery yesterday in Mrs. Gibney's class, correct?" asked the counselor.
"Yes, Ma'am," said Grace.
"And Gina came home with questions?"
"Yes," said Mr. Owenby, slowly rocking Gina back and forth. "I knew it was coming, but she asked if our family had ever been slaves. I can't lie to her. So I told the truth. Questions kept coming. I told her everything I knew. She didn't sleep very well last night. She had nightmares that she was a slave and they were taking a whip to her."
Grace began to cry. Timber looked at her feet with a feeling of shame she couldn't understand.
"I can truthfully say she would have had nothin' to worry about," said Grace, after regaining her composure.
Mr. Owenby looked at Grace sharply and said, "How would you know?"
"Well, the reason Gina had a breakdown is because she just found out that her closest friend's family owned yours."
"Yours?"
"Yes, Sir."
Mr. Owenby's face twisted with rage and Timber felt Grace grab her hand. She looked at her aunt and realized Grace was trying to keep her calm so she didn't Turn. Grace's face was relaxed and set.
"I also have Mr. Thatcher's journal about his time as a slave. It'll tell you all our history back to the Revolutionary War. My mother is still friends with one of your cousins." Mr. Owenby's face went from anger to confusion.
"Mrs. Frunden, could you please clear things up about the contents of this journal?" asked the counselor.
"His journal very clearly describes more of a peaceful coexistence," said Grace. "Your ancestors came to mine during the Revolution. We sheltered a husband and wife and their two children from gunfire. It gets a little vague after that, but it does say that no one was ever sold or traded and my family never used the whip. They never worked the field unless they wanted to and because the property was small, it was easy to work. That's what Thatcher said. He said the mistress of the house insisted that they learn to read and write and they ate dinner together like a family. It's all in this journal. Your family served mine for over a hundred years out of choice. They weren't forced. Even after slaves were free, your family stayed with mine and accepted payment. The women were able to raise their babies full time while only the men worked."
"So it wasn't the typical situation?" asked Mr. Owenby with misty eyes.
"No," said Grace. "Gina broke down because she thought it was and Timber is one of her best friends. She's only ten. She's not old enough to process this properly on her own." Grace handed Mr. Owenby the journal. "This belongs to you. If you want, I can give you your cousin's number. She lives in Louisiana where I'm from. She's best friends with my mother."
"Thank you." Mr. Owenby was choking down tears as Grace handed him the leather-bound journal and the phone number.
"You're a good woman, Mrs. Frunden."
"You're a good man, Mr. Owenby," replied Grace. "I wondered if you, Mrs. Owenby, and Gina would like to join my family for dinner tonight."
"My wife has to work, but Gina and I will be there. I'm going to take Gina home today," said Mr. Owenby to the counselor. "I want to read this with her as soon as possible."
"Of course," said the counselor. When Mr. Owenby and Gina left the room, she turned to Timber. "Are you alright, Timber?"
"I was a little angry for a few minutes for what this did to Gina, but I realized that this happened over a hundred years ago and the only thing affecting her now is the knowledge that it happened. I think knowing that people I'm related to made it that way was too much for her."
"You're a good friend, Timber. Now, you've missed a good majority of the morning. Mrs. Frunden, will she stay and finish or go home with you?"
"I'll take Timber home too," said Grace. "I want to sit down with her while all this is still fresh."
"Alright. I'll let Mrs. Gibney know that you and Gina will be back tomorrow. Have a good day."
Grace signed Timber out and took her home. She brought her upstairs to the master bedroom and opened her hope chest. She opened an old box and pulled out a notebook with dozens of discolored pages. Timber's curiosity peaked.
"This is the family tree," said Grace. "Your great great great great grandmother started it. We've all been good about keepin' it up to date and all of us have copies. There are about fifty copies of this all over the southern states and the rest of the country. I have the original because I'm from what we call the direct line back to Isom Brogan. Then it will either be up to you or Emily to keep passin' it down."
Timber opened it carefully. The pages were stiff and yellow and none of the writing was the same, but she could see names, birthdays, days of death, and causes of death. She stared at Emily's name. She was still the youngest in the whole family. She moved up and saw her parents' names and the date they died. The cause of death was murder. She blinked and kept going back. She went back seven generations and she almost dropped the book. She looked up at Grace in disbelief.
"Am I looking at this right?"
"Yes. Thatcher's mother was a Brogan. You and Gina are very distantly related."
"Like cousins?"
"Eighth cousins, if I remember right," said Grace. "The DNA you two share is goin' to be less than one percent similar."
"Doesn't that mean you and Mr. Owenby are seventh cousins," asked Timber. Grace laughed.
"You're right. So how do you feel about being related to Gina?"
"It's wonderful! But will she know?"
"It's in the journal, so yes. Or you could tell her tonight over dinner. Would you like to learn how to make my jambalaya?"
Timber grinned and said, "Absolutely."