Northern Georgia 1858
I first saw her at the market that Saturday in May when the skies opened up and unleashed a brutal rain onto villagers. The streets cleared of bodies but she took off her bonnet and extended her arms to the heavens. I watched from the butcher's window where I sought refuge and admired her pure, uncontained joy. It was as if God himself brought a touch of light into her heart where it radiated from her crooked smile. Mrs. Bluth told me, "that there's the new school teacher. I heard she come from a big city out east." But her name was not said, and soon, she was walking back towards the Wiester house where she stayed in their spare bedroom.
I lived with my brother, Arthur, and his wife, Grace, in their modest home that was free of children. Our Papa left the family house to the two of us, and I always assumed I would leave once I found a husband. But after twenty eight years, I was still no closer to marriage than a blade of grass in the yard. Grace had a cousin who was sweet on me, but I never liked the way he spoke. It was so harsh to the ears, when all I wanted to hear was something that could soothe me.
After I saw the schoolteacher enjoy an afternoon rain, I thought of her gaiety and felt a twinge of envy. How very rewarding life must be when one can see the good in any situation. I was always somewhat of a brooding spirit, but it was unclear why. Arthur told me once that a very sad goat bit me as a child, and that was why I suffered from persistent melancholy. I know he was chaffing though.
Every night, I would sit at my mirror and brush my long golden hair fifty times. But while counting, I would get lost within my delicate features and scrutinize every blemish I could find. My eyes were too dull, or my skin was not smooth. Once I even cursed the Lord for every freckle that dotted my cheeks. But doing so never made me feel any better. I suppose I needed something to place the blame on for why I felt the way I did-of which I could not see.
It was early June when I spoke with her for the first time-at the market once again. Our hands crossed as we reached for produce and an apology escaped both our lips.
"I seem to be overly eager for this squash," said the schoolteacher. "I didn't even notice your hand."
I snapped my arm back as if it had been threatened by a flame. "Oh, it's quite all right. Please, go ahead."
The woman grabbed a yellow gourd with a tapered end and fat bottom. She spun it a few times as if she were studying its potential, then a smile formed. A wonderful, crooked smile. "This one shall be perfect."
She took a step back and allowed me to grab some carrots, which I failed to examine. I was much too preoccupied with her energy.
"I saw you a few weeks ago. You'd gotten caught in the rain, but you seemed to enjoy it."
"Oh, I love a good shower," the woman sighed. "It's refreshing."
"Ain't you afeard of catchin' your death?" I gripped the carrots like they were my life source.
The schoolteacher looked as if she were thinking, but her smile remained the same. Soft strands of chestnut hair fell against her temple under her bonnet. She wore a patterned skirt and white blouse with puffy sleeves, and an arm carried a wicker basket full of goods purchased from peddlers and farmers at the market.
"I'm not afraid of a little rain. I suppose that's why I'm a teacher-my pupils feel the same." Her voice was so very calming, like a faint ripple on the still river outside of town.
I must have dropped my face, because she grew concerned as I lay silent in her presence.
"Are you all right? You look as if you're standing before a judge."
"Oh-ye-yes," I stuttered. "I was just thinkin' how your disposition is well suited for a school house. I'm sure the children love you."
Her smile returned and she gave a nod. "That's very kind. They respect me and that's all I can ask for." She held up her squash and pointed it towards the seller. "I ought to pay for this. I must return to Mrs. Wiester so she can begin dinner."
"I'm goin' that way!" I exclaimed. My, how very embarrassing I sounded in the moment. I cleared my throat and attempted to assuage my misstep. "My home is down yonder. Perhaps we can walk together? I'm finished as well."
The woman gave a chuckle and agreed before we both paid for our produce and headed in the same direction.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," she said.
I held my basked to my chest and felt my cheeks warm as though the woman breathed her words directly on them. "I'm Phebe. And you?"
"Ada. But my pupils call me Miss Henson." She walked with a skip in her step that gave her an air of nonchalance.
"Ada," I repeated-seared into my memory. "How are you enjoyin' the valley?"
"Oh it's lovely," said Ada. "Quite different from Boston. Much more quiet."
I found myself looking at her in favor of the road in front of me. The sun blessed her skin with a rich glow that gave it the appearance of fairy dust-almost magical. I knew at that moment, I needed to
know
this woman. And I wanted her to know me, although I thought perhaps only the good parts.
"I like the quiet," I said. "Sometimes I think the world would be a much better place if we didn't talk so much."
Ada laughed-the kind of laughter that comes from being caught off guard. "I must admit, I agree. There are so many things we can say with our eyes instead."
She looked towards me and met my gaze, causing my heart to beat inside my throat. I quickly looked ahead, wishing my home was not nearing.
As I slowed down, she followed my pace and gave a sigh. "This is you?"
"Yes," I replied. "I live here with my brother and his wife. It's my Papa's house."
She looked behind me and gave a smile. "How very wonderful it is to share a home with your loved ones."
I gave an awkward grin but my eyes found the grass at our feet and no words were thought of to offer.
"Well, it was so lovely to meet you," said Ada. She hesitated for a moment, as if her own thoughts perturbed her. "I-um..I hope it isn't an imposition to ask, but I've not many friends in town. Perhaps we could see each other again?"
My breath turned sharp as I nodded. "'Course, I'd love that!"
"Wonderful," she replied. "Sunday after service? We could take a walk along the river?"
The thought gave my chest the feeling of a thousand bluebirds fluttering within it. I tried to keep my excitement under the surface until I was in my room privately. "Yes! Shall we meet here?"
Ada hugged her wicker basket and gave a smile. "I'll be here. I'm looking forward to it, Phebe."
She turned and continued down the road, leaving me watching with a heart feeling light as air.
When I walked inside my home, Arthur asked me what I was smiling about. I told him I had just made a new friend, and he looked pleased to see me in good spirits. I had never touched a drop of liquor in my life, but I imagined that was what it was like to be three sheets to the wind. This woman was intoxicating and I was drunk on our brief interaction.
That night, and the following nights until Sunday, I thought of her. I thought of the sound of her voice-like the soft trill of bullfrogs by the river on a summer night. I envisioned her gray eyes looking into mine. They spoke a language I failed to understand, but I so desperately wanted to learn.
But I knew I had to keep my sentiments hidden, so when Sunday afternoon came, I waited for Ada while reminding myself not to appear too eager.
"Good afternoon," I said as she approached the white picket fence. "I seen you at church." I quickly wondered if she found my statement strange-like I was looking for her.
Ada beamed. "And I saw you! I do apologize though, I had a few people wanting to speak with me after service ended. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."
I shook my head as we began to walk towards the end of the village. "Not one bit." For a moment, I was feeling quite brazen. "You're lookin' rather fetchin' today."
She was wearing a cobalt blue bodice and skirt with a lace collar and sleeves. The color bore a striking resemblance to her eyes, which glistened under a mid day sun.
"Thank you kindly. I was feeling some excitement for our little walk this afternoon, and I wanted to look nice."
Her demeanor was much more reserved and she kept her eyes on the road as we made our way towards the river.
The grass was lush and fresh following an early spring. We went north towards a small forest of sugar maple trees, whose leaves produced a bright green canopy for villagers to rest under. Our discussion was that of service and the weather, but I was much too preoccupied with my newfound infatuation to provide significant insight. By the time we found ourselves hidden by the density of trees, Ada stopped and looked off into the river.
"Fancy a swim?"
"If only it wasn't so cold," I laughed. "Besides, girls ain't supposed to swim in the water. What would we even wear?"
Ada squinted as she looked up higher in the sky as a flock of sparrows passed over. "We'd wear nothing, of course."
I felt my cheeks redden and my ears grow hot at the thought. But being caught by others paled in comparison when I imagined swimming bare with Ada. The idea gave my whole body tingles.
"If only I were courageous like you, perhaps I'd give it a try."
Ada laughed and turned to face me. "Don't you ever feel like doing something like that though? Something that feels...freeing?"
"Well-" I stumbled on my words. "I reckon I've always lived my life safe. In truth, I'm not very brave. But I wish to be."
"But just jumping in the water doesn't make you brave," sighed Ada. "It's...doing the things you desire most, even if it scares you-no matter how small. For example, I'm expected to help prepare dinner after service, but this morning I told Mrs. Wiester I had an engagement I didn't want to miss."
My closed smile opened at her words. "I'd call that very brave, Mrs. Wiester is frightenin' when she's angry."
"And she wasn't happy," said Ada. "But it's all right. I feel very content being here with you." Her tone was so delicate, so flowery. It was like a touch of silk to my senses.
"My family goes to the McDowell's for dinner on Sunday after church," I responded. "But Arthur and Grace were all right to let me miss. I reckon they were just pleased to see me quite gay 'bout somethin' for once."