“We are very happy with our staff,” Mary said, setting down her teacup.
“Happy with a colored in the house? Why they are low class, not worth living in such a fine house. Eatin’ in your kitchen. Gettin’ special privileges.”
“Josie,” Mary said gently, “I ran a hotel in Springfield. I managed a large staff and some were colored. Any person having difficulty with that was asked to leave. I did not abide prejudice amongst my staff. If the person could do the work or be trained to do the work, and they caused no problems, they stayed. Things are no different here at the ranch. You understand, Josie?”
James looked up from his teacup and smiled. “Mary here is a tough boss. This colored person you are talking about, is it Ol’ Jon?”
“No, ain’t him,” said Josie emphatically.
“So havin’ Ol’ Jon is not a problem to you, but someone else is?”
“Well, he don’t work in the house and he don’t sleep in the house.”
“Ol’ Jon sleeps in the servant’s wing of our house,” replied James.
Josie sat a little straighter. “I’m talkin’ about someone so high and mighty they work and sleep in this house, not a servant’s wing.”
“High and mighty?” asked Mary.
Josie was confused. She knew what she was saying was right. She’d seen it where she grew up. “Well yes, saw her takin’ a trail ride with Capp the other day. All “stuck up” like she was better than all of us. Time off for a trail ride on a Friday, when there is work for everyone else to do? And she gets an ol’ trail ride with Capp!”
“Are you talking about Maizie?” asked James.
“Yes. Seems you don’t know she’s colored.”
Mary cleared her throat. “You believe that we, James and I, Philippe, Leon, and others working here at the ranch house give a hoot if someone is colored?”
“There’s segregation laws—you know, Jim Crow.”
“Now Josie, I think it would be wise for you to return to the backside and think about what you are doing at the ranch to make this a better place. Write your thoughts down on a piece of paper. I want to see them. Then I’m wondering if I asked others who work down there, if they’d say your list is true,” explained Mary.
“Well, I don’t think you need to do that,” replied Josie.
“It’s not your business to tell me whether something is or isn’t necessary. I’m your employer and I’m asking you to do it.”
Josie was bewildered by Mary’s reaction. She’d never heard of someone so unbothered by a colored person living in their house.
“Maizie is colored. She told me as much. Seemed proud of it and those blue eyes. It’s not natural.”
“Josie, enough. Are you jealous of Maizie?” asked James.
“No, but she sure gets special treatment. The coloreds shouldn’t have it better than whites.”
“I feel sad for you, Josie. Seems with an attitude like yours life will be very hard. Hate is an emotion that empties your soul.” Mary took a stern look at Josie. “We have no room for hate here at Glidewell.”
“Mary and I agree on this, Josie. We want Glidewell to be a place where people can be themselves, work hard, and treat others right. We believe that tolerance will make us a great horse ranch. Most of our employees feel part of that effort. Do you?”
“Most folks would want to know if they had coloreds living in their very house. That’s all I’m saying.”
“The color of someone’s skin is not important to us. What matters is whether they are good hardworking folks. And at any rate, it isn’t your place to tell us who we should or shouldn’t hire,” concluded Mary.
James stood. “Josie, I’ll walk with you to the backside. Just let me run these cups to the kitchen. I’ll meet you in the foyer.” He walked quickly out of the room and saw Maizie headed toward her bedroom. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head back toward Mary’s office door.
Josie rose slowly from her chair, gathering herself. She lifted her chin in the air and walked out. She was shocked to see Maizie coming toward her. Maizie stepped aside, putting her back to the wall, leaving plenty of room for Josie to pass. Josie glowered, her dislike for Maizie palpable. Noticing that James Glidewell was well out of earshot, she whispered, “Stay away from Capp or you’ll be sorry.”
Chapter 12
Maizie’s Diary
May 28, 1931
I rode with Philippe and Leon into Springfield today to pick up supplies. We picked out a few dried herbs ’cause Ol’ Jon’s were gone. Philippe says that Ol’ Jon will be having fresh herbs like tarragon and chervil in a bit for our meals at the ranch house. Seems all Ol’ Jon has to do to keep Philippe and Leon happy is grow good herbs.
Ol’ Jon is a nice old man. He has white and gray hair and a beautiful face. His eyes are so kind that I sometimes want to hug him. He smiles when he talks about his garden. He walks tall and straight and strong. He told me a story one day about living in Louisiana. About being a Creole and the cooking and spices and the music. He seemed real proud of it. Like me, he’s mixed. Says he’s Haitian and French. He knows French too. So see, we are like each other. I told him my story, at least what I know. I even told him about my daddy. I don’t usually do that. There were tears in his eyes. He’d seen men lynched. Wouldn’t tell me what it was like. Said it would pain him. Said he didn’t want to burden such a young girl who lost a daddy that way.
Today Mrs. Glidewell asked me if anyone at the backside had treated me mean. Now why’d you suppose she’d ask me that? I didn’t tell her about Josie. Better not to, I thought. Sometimes it seems Mrs. Glidewell sure
