“Now who you callin’ old, ol’ man?” said Sugar, grinning.
“Well, forgive me for being impolite to a lady. You relax. I bet they have an old nag at the barn that you could ride,” chided Meadowlark.
Millie pulled to the side of the road near a trailhead heading east, and the horse debate abruptly ended. After walking for about twenty minutes, the three saw through the trees a rundown shack on stilts about one hundred yards to the right of the trail. A small footpath meandered to the hovel’s front steps.
“We’ll stay right here in case there is anyone holed up in the place,” said Millie.
Maizie stood with her mouth agape. All waited for her to say something, but she remained silent. “Honey, you okay?” said Sugar. “Come, let’s sit down on this log.”
“It’s all right. I’ve seen this place over and over again in my nightmares—the house on stilts. My mama drew a house like this on the map. I had dreams about being in the house when bad things happened. There was a faceless man. There was a river that flooded, but I don’t see that. And animals.”
“Maizie, look just beyond the house. There’s a good-sized creek there. It flooded every time it rained hard. That’s why this house is on stilts. It’s a tiny house with one bedroom. The ol’ man slept on a cot when he was home. He gave you and your mama his bedroom. He was a decent sort,” explained Millie. “What about the man in your dreams?”
“He was scary. My mama and I would run from him. It was mostly at night we were running,” replied Maizie.
“I hope I didn’t do wrong bringin’ you here,” said Millie.
“No, just hard to see this place outside my nightmares,” said Maizie.
Millie, Sugar, and Meadowlark walked with Maizie slowly back to the car, enjoying the beauty and the nice spring day, but Maizie was clearly shaken. She remained silent in the car as they headed back to Vicksburg to continue their tour.
Millie maneuvered the car carefully up a busy street and pulled up to a steepled church. Keeping the car running, she said, “This is the Baptist church where your daddy sang. Folks would come from all over to hear him. Some thought he was an angel. The fact his name was Gabriel convinced them, I think,” said Millie, smiling. “Would you like to go inside?”
Maizie looked around, imagining her daddy walking on these streets, going into this church. The thought gave her comfort. She could picture him in her mind. Young, strong, handsome, with skin slightly darker than her own. “Yes, please. I’d like to go inside,” she said, finding her strength again. As the group stood on the path leading to the church’s door, they could hear a choir singing in the sanctuary. Millie led the way. Walking through the door, Maizie held on to Sugar’s arm. Meadowlark followed. They all took seats in the back pew and gave Maizie a few minutes to observe, to imagine.
“Your daddy would stand right there in the front with the choir behind him. Why, there were times folks would be so full of the joy of God that they’d be dancing in the aisles. Like they did at your concert, Maizie.”
“How do you know what the church was like, Millie?”
“My family came here off and on. We had relatives that were like your daddy and you. Part white, part colored. We were always welcome even though we was white. My parents believed everyone equal. They were in a minority, but they were freedom fighters for the colored. My parents did all they could to help.”
“Like Buckus Del Henny?”
“Yep, like Buckus. My daddy always said that the Lord would pass judgment on those who did harm to coloreds because we’s all children of God,” added Millie.
Choosing a side door, Millie led them down a few steps and around the back of the building. Following a path through a grassy field, they came upon a small cemetery surrounded by a picket fence. In the center of the enclosed area was a large tree standing like a sentinel for the colored souls placed in this hallowed ground. Millie opened the gate and allowed Meadowlark, Maizie, and Sugar to pass through. Closing the gate, Millie led the group to a small headstone inscribed with the name Gabriel “Gabe” Freedman.
Maizie stood quietly. She’d had little practice praying, but the weight of the moment caused her to lower her head and then go down on her knees. The group of friends stepped back and gave her time to do whatever she needed to do.
Chapter 92
Tilly’s Back
After a tough winter training season in Arkansas, trainers and horses returned to Churchill Downs, settling into their familiar barns. As everyone looked forward to spring and stake races, the backside was coming to life.
Around the grounds, trainers were hiring grooms and stable hands to help handle the influx of thoroughbreds. It wouldn’t be long before the Kentucky Derby, Preakness, and Belmont would be on everyone’s lips. The developing excitement drew onlookers too. Standing near a corral was Tilly Coombs Garner, looking fetching in her tight-fitting western wear. She was busy flirting with a few of the grooms. Like catching flies with honey, she talked suggestively as the men succumbed to her charms.
Bob Hench was making the rounds when he saw the crowd of men hovering around Tilly. He approached the group of men with an air of authority.
“Tilly? What you doin’ here?”
Tilly adjusted the sleeves on her shirt, pushing them up to just below her elbows. “Hello, Mr. Hench. Just sayin’ hi to my old friends,” she explained while chewing on a wad of Wrigley’s. About five of the men were chewing gum as well. The smell of spearmint was heavy in the air.
“Martin know you’re here?” asked Bob.
“Martin? Nah, he don’t know. None of his business, anyway. We are done. Not married anymore. Didn’t work out,” she explained.
“You workin’ here again?”
“Nope. I
