Mystery of the Dark Tower Read online

  Papa hugged Bessie close. “You gonna love New York. You’ll see. It’ll be all right. I promise.”

  Bessie laid her head down on Papa’s knee. She gently touched Eddie’s hand and laced her fingers in his. Eddie slept on, but Bessie knew he felt her. It was their sign that no matter what happened, they would stand together.

  There was no way to make going to Harlem be all right, no matter how many promises Papa made. Bessie was not even impressed when they changed trains in Washington, D.C., to the Pennsylvania Railroad. It didn’t matter to her that now they could sit in any car, not just the one for coloreds. The truth was, Bessie hated Harlem already. Nothing could ever be all right again—not without Mama—and never, ever in old, stinking, ratty Harlem.

  CHAPTER 2

  HATING HARLEM

  From the moment Bessie stepped off the train in New York’s Grand Central Station, she struggled to remember how angry she was about coming to Harlem and to feel the pain of missing Mama. But she had to admit, she’d only seen one other thing in her life that made her so excited—a kaleidoscope in the general feed store back home in Burlington. When she’d picked up the long cylinder and placed her eye where the man showed her, her heart had burst open with joy—so many colors, so many shapes, so wonderful! That’s what Bessie saw when she first laid eyes on New York City.

  Papa hustled them out to the street. He put his fingers into his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. A colored man driving a car swerved over to the side of the street and hopped out.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” he said. He helped Papa put the bags in the trunk, and directed them into the backseat.

  “Who is he, Papa?” Bessie asked.

  “He works driving people in this taxi,” Papa said, holding Bessie and Eddie close to him.

  As they drove, the taxi driver pointed out statues and buildings. Bessie stared out the window in amazement. Iron posts with white bulbs attached to them stood along streets that were paved. The streets even had places for people to walk. Papa said they were called sidewalks. People rushed along the sidewalks, going in all directions. Cars bunched together like metal cows, honking their horns instead of mooing. The buildings were all brick. Some were so tall they looked as if they were pushing up into the clouds. It sure wasn’t like the dirt streets of Burlington, where Bessie had lived all her life.

  After riding for a while, the driver announced proudly, “This is the famous Lenox Avenue in Harlem.”

  Bessie was surprised to see a colored police officer directing traffic in the middle of the street. He looked important in his crisp uniform with shiny buttons. And he was telling the white drivers which way to go, too!

  Bessie’s grandma used to say, “Ain’t nothing worse than wanting to be mad and feeling glad instead.” That’s just how Bessie felt when she, Eddie, and Papa pulled up in front of the stone house at 124th Street in Harlem. Bessie had never imagined that her aunts lived in such a fine house. Green ivy climbed the tall building, like wisteria vines on an arbor, and other houses crowded it on both sides. Steps led to two doors, and over the doors were pale stone arches that looked like crowns.

  When Papa knocked on one of the doors, a woman not much taller than Bessie appeared. Her hair was completely straight and hung down past her ears.

  “Lord,” she said, grinning. “Come on in. If you ain’t a sight for sore eyes!” she continued loudly. “This must be Bessie, and this is little Eddie. Why, I ain’t seen you children in a month of Sundays. Get on in here and give your Aunt Nellie a hug.”

  Bessie and Eddie hugged their papa’s sister.

  “Go on,” Aunt Nellie said. “Look around at your new house while I talk to your papa for a spell.”

  Bessie and Eddie held hands, their fingers laced together.

  “Go on. Have a look around,” Papa said.

  Her aunts’ house had four spacious rooms with mantled fireplaces, plus a kitchen. The walls were covered with what appeared to be flowered satin. When Eddie and Bessie finished looking at the pretty rooms, they stopped short near a set of stairs that led up. They could hear their aunt whispering. But even her whispers were loud.

  “You right, Big Ed,” Aunt Nellie was saying. “It’s a shame about your wife. A real shame.”

  Bessie held her finger up to her lips, so Eddie would know not to make a sound. She motioned with her hand for him to stay put. Bessie tiptoed toward the room where Papa and Aunt Nellie were talking.

  Aunt Nellie said, “Lord, you got to be glad there’s a roof over her head. But ain’t nothing you can do. You had to leave your wife, Ed. And now, you’ve got to think about the children.”

  Papa broke into tears. Aunt Nellie hugged him.

  Bessie had never seen her papa cry. This was even worse than she had thought. Were her parents truly separated? Is that why Mama wouldn’t say good-bye?

  Bessie looked back at Eddie. He was hopping from one foot to the other. Then he lost his balance and crashed into a tall vase on the floor by the stairs. The sound brought Papa and Aunt Nellie running.

  “I-I-I’ve got to g-g-go,” Eddie said, flashing an apologetic look toward Bessie.

  Bessie knew Eddie felt bad about being clumsy. A few people back home thought Eddie was dumb. Bessie hated for them to say that about her brother. He might be slow to talk, but he wasn’t nowhere near being dumb. He just didn’t like talking to strangers because it took him so long to get his words out. If he was sad, mad, or nervous, he stuttered even more.

  “Son, look what you done,” Papa said, staring at the broken pieces of the fancy vase.

  “Oh, my,” said Aunt Nellie. “Esther is going to kill us all.”

  “I’ll handle her,” Papa said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Come on, follow me,” Aunt Nellie said, walking up the stairs. “I’ll show you where he can go.”

  Papa grabbed Eddie’s hand and followed Aunt Nellie up the staircase. Bessie followed behind them. She pulled on Papa’s sleeve. “Papa,” Bessie whispered, “Aunt Nellie doesn’t know he means he has to pee.”

  “She knows what he means, Bessie,” Papa said, turning to smile at her. “They have an inside toilet upstairs.”

  “Oh,” Bessie said, trying to sound like she didn’t care. But she did. She’d never been in a house that had an upstairs. And she’d never been to an outhouse that was inside!

  Aunt Nellie led Papa and Eddie into a room. She walked back out alone, leaving Eddie and Papa inside the bathroom.

  “You sure is a pretty girl. You look just like your …” Aunt Nellie paused. “I bet y’all hungry,” she finished quickly.

  A loud whooshing sound erupted from the bathroom. Bessie jumped.

  “Don’t worry, that’s just the toilet flushing,” Aunt Nellie said.

  When the door opened, Papa said, “I’m going down and clean that mess up.”

  “I’ll get the children washed up for supper,” Aunt Nellie said. Then she took Bessie into the bathroom with Eddie.

  Bessie was speechless. The room didn’t look like any outhouse she’d ever seen. There were no spiders or snakes. And there was even a pot of flowers. Bessie couldn’t believe that water came all the way upstairs and out the two spigots. One was for cold water and the other was for hot. Back home they had to bring water in from the well and heat it on the woodstove.

  “This is bath salt for you and Eddie to use later,” Aunt Nellie said, scooping a few capfuls to show them. “It’ll help you relax and sleep like you were babies. Lord, what am I saying—you are babies.”

  “No, we’re not,” Bessie said. “We’re big children. I’m almost grown, Aunt Nellie. I’ll be thirteen on my birthday. Papa said you got married when you was thirteen.”

  Aunt Nellie turned around slowly. “You’re right. Of course you aren’t babies. But don’t let your papa hear you saying that,” she said, smiling. She leaned down closer to them. “That’ll be our little secret.”

  After supper, Bessie took a bath and got ready for bed. By the time her head hit the
pillow, she could barely keep her eyes open. Papa came into the room quietly to say good night.

  “You and your brother asleep?”

  “No, sir,” Bessie said.

  Eddie shook his head.

  “I got something for you two.” He handed them each a little handmade wooden frame.

  Bessie’s eyes filled with tears as she studied her frame. “Papa, did you draw this picture of me and Mama?” Bessie asked, almost whispering.

  “Yes,” Papa said softly. “And I drew one of Eddie with Mama too, so’s you both could have a piece of Mama with you.”

  “It’s beautiful, Papa,” Bessie said.

  “Th-thank you, Papa,” Eddie said and hugged the picture to his chest.

  “Papa, why didn’t Mama come with us?” Bessie asked.

  “You can’t be worried about that. Children don’t need to know grown folks’ business. Your mama wouldn’t like that. She’d just want you to be a good girl. Now stop asking questions. I’m going out early in the morning to look for work, so I won’t see you tomorrow until late. But Aunt Nellie will take care of you.”

  Bessie thought she saw tears in Papa’s eyes. “Papa, you all right?”

  “Don’t worry about me. And you two gonna be all right, too. Look what else I brought for you,” Papa said, unfolding Grandma’s quilt. He spread it over them before kissing them good night.

  After Papa left, Bessie lay very still until the only thing she could hear was the creaking of the house’s bones and Eddie’s soft snoring. It was hot under the quilt, but Bessie didn’t care. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, holding her picture of Mama and hearing Grandma saying, “As long as you with your family, everything is gonna be all right.” This time Bessie didn’t believe a word of it.

  The next few days were like a dream, except Bessie was awake.

  Aunt Nellie rustled them up bright and early each morning. The first morning, Aunt Nellie showed them the rest of the house. She even showed them her bedroom and her dresser with her makeup, perfumes, fancy notepaper, and pen on it.

  At breakfast she always chattered on about this and that. Right after breakfast she would say, “Hurry. Get dressed now Let’s go air out. Once your Aunt Esther gets back, there won’t be a lot of airing out. Your aunt, she don’t cotton to but two things—housework and church.”

  At first, Bessie didn’t feel like airing out. But soon the exciting sights, sounds, and smells of Harlem made her forget her troubles for a while.

  Lenox Avenue was always packed with people airing out. Bessie loved seeing the peanut man, who walked down the street pushing a black baby carriage for a cart. She smiled when she heard him call out, “Peanuts! Peanuts! Get your hot peanuts!” And then there was the crab man, dressed in a white apron and carrying a basket that was filled with hot fried crabs and covered with a white towel.

  Aunt Nellie took them for rides on a train called a subway that went under the ground. One day they rode the trolley, which was like a train on tracks except it wiggled down the center of the street.

  The storefronts had wide glass windows with signs plastered on them. A man sat on the corner with a wooden box propped up and shined people’s shoes for three cents. Bessie couldn’t help looking down at her dusty brown oxfords as they passed.

  Bessie and Eddie stared and giggled with each other at almost everything. But sometimes Bessie would see a woman who reminded her of Mama. Bessie’s hand would automatically finger the necklace Mama had given her, and she’d go back to wondering about why Mama hadn’t come.

  She’d recall Papa’s words to Mr. Cannon that Mama wanted him to leave. Why? Why would Mama want Papa to leave and bring them with him? And why didn’t she say good-bye? It didn’t make sense. Bessie thought about the night, a few weeks before they left for Harlem, when she’d felt Mama slip something over her head while Bessie was supposed to be sleeping. After she heard Mama tiptoe out, Bessie sat up in bed and felt around her neck. Mama had put her Memaw necklace, a dime with a hole in it, strung on a cord, around Bessie’s neck.

  This wasn’t just any old necklace. Memaw, Mama’s mama, had put this dime necklace around Mama’s neck when Mama was ten years old. She had told Bessie that she’d never taken it off since the day Memaw gave it to her.

  The next day Bessie had asked Mama, “Why did you give me your Memaw necklace?”

  “It’s time you was wearing it,” Mama answered. “Now don’t be asking me no questions. I’m the mama here. And when I say it’s time, it’s time.”

  Maybe Mama knew Papa was leaving soon and taking them with him. Maybe it was Mama’s way of saying goodbye. The thought made Bessie shiver.

  As their first month in Harlem passed, Bessie, Eddie, and Aunt Nellie settled into a routine. Papa was gone most of the time, out looking for work. Bessie and Eddie liked to sit outside on the stoop in the summer sun. They enjoyed watching the people walk by. One day an old man with gray hair walked past. He was strutting with his head held high, wearing a nice brown suit and white shirt. He tipped his skinny-brimmed hat to them as he passed.

  “Howdy, sir,” Bessie and Eddie said. They watched him continue down the street and go into the house on the corner.

  Just then, a group of children came running up the street and stopped in front of the stoop. A tall boy held a key over his head. A plump girl jumped up and down, trying to grab the key while the other children laughed.

  Bessie could see the girl was about to cry. The look on her face reminded Bessie of Eddie when children teased him about his stuttering.

  Bessie stood up. “Give her the key.”

  “Stay out of this,” the tall boy said. “It ain’t your business.”

  “I’m making it my business,” Bessie said. “Now give her the key or I’ll—”

  “Or you’ll what?” a girl said.

  “Or I’ll—” Bessie picked up a chunk of brick. “See that sign over yonder?” she asked. “If I can hit the center of the sign, then you give her back her key.”

  “You can’t even hit near the sign,” one girl scoffed.

  “She can’t hit it. She’s just a girl,” a boy said.

  “A skinny girl, too,” another boy added.

  “Yeah. Go ahead,” the tall boy said, grinning. “If you even get close, we’ll go.”

  Bessie leaned back, sured-up her footing, and let the fragment of brick fly.

  The board shook. A dent appeared dead in the center.

  The children looked from one to another and took off running. The tall boy threw the key back. He stopped running just long enough to see Bessie snatch the key out of the air.

  Bessie offered the plump girl the key. She was sitting on the steps next to Eddie now, sniffling. The girl’s hair, which she wore in two braids, was long and silky, but it was her skin that caught Bessie’s attention. It was dark like Bessie’s, but it looked smooth as a piece of glass.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness,” the girl said, wiping her eyes. The girl’s talking sounded like she was singing a song.

  “Where you from?” Bessie asked.

  “I’m from here now. I live in this building. My parents brought me here three years ago, when I was eleven. We are from the British West Indies. We have just returned from our vacation there this week.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Lillian Moore,” the girl said, brightening. She reached out her hand.

  Bessie shook it.

  “Why were those children bothering you?” Bessie asked, sitting back down on the steps.

  “Because they are ignorant. Just because I am from some place other than America, they pick on me.”

  “I-I-I-I know what th-th-that f-feels like,” Eddie said.

  Lillian looked confused. “Why is he talking like that?”

  “He’s trying to tell you he’s different, too,” Bessie said. “He stutters, and people sometimes tease him about it.”

  “Then he’s right. We are alike,” Lillian said.

  Eddie
smiled.

  Pointing to Aunt Nellie’s door, Lillian asked, “Do you live next door now?”

  “I don’t really know,” Bessie said. She felt dumb for not knowing how to answer. And sad that she even had to think about it.

  Suddenly Lillian’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Look,” she said, pointing up the street. “Here she comes.”

  “Here who comes?” Bessie asked, following Lillian’s gaze to a woman walking in their direction. The woman was tall and slender with long, long black hair. Her complexion was like the dark bark of a tree. Her dress had red, yellow, and green birds flying all over it. Her body swayed as she walked toward them. She was very pretty.

  “No!” Lillian whispered through clenched teeth. “Don’t let her see you looking. Are you crazy?”

  “Why c-c-can’t we l-look at her?” Eddie asked.

  “Quick. Lower your head,” Lillian whispered as the woman neared them. “Don’t look in her face. She’s a hoodoo woman from the Caribbean islands. She could turn us into frogs or something.”

  Bessie remembered Grandma talking about hoodoo women back home. They used roots and herbs to put spells, or conjures, on people.

  “Sometimes Miss Flo does things to people,” Lillian continued.

  “Things like what?” Bessie asked, almost not wanting to know.

  Lillian shrugged. “Things. I’ve heard my mother talking about it. She says Miss Flo can make a man fall in love with a woman he doesn’t even like. Or make a man sick, like he has a stomach full of snakes, if he’s done something bad. Or, if a woman wants to make a man do a certain thing, Miss Flo can put a root on him and make him do whatever that woman wants.”

  Miss Flo kept walking toward them. Then she stopped in front of the steps. Bessie, Eddie, and Lillian held their breath.

  “Good morning,” Miss Flo said in a voice as pretty as Lillian’s.

  Bessie felt torn up inside. Back home, she was taught it was disrespectful not to look at your elders’ faces when they were talking to you. And if you disrespected them, not only would they whip you, but your parents would too, when they found out about it. Being turned into a frog might feel better than getting two whippings. Trembling, Bessie looked up. “Good morning, ma’am.”