On to Richmond (64 page)

             
Rose’s hand was already in the air.  “What does it take to be a good teacher, Marianne?”

             
Marianne smiled.  “Well, of course, it takes knowing how to teach.  But I’d say that is just the beginning.  You have to have a heart for what you’re doing.  I believe to be a good teacher you have to be passionate about it.  Unfortunately, our country is full of women who have become teachers simply because there is nothing else for them to do.  Teaching used to be the man’s domain.  When our country discovered women would teach for much less pay, the number of women teachers increased tremendously.  Now, with so many of our men at war, teaching has fallen almost entirely into the hands of women.  That is both good and bad.  Many women have become teachers who never should have, simply because it’s more appealing than working in the mills or in the fields.  Yet, their students suffer.”

             
“Because they don’t love to teach?”  Rose asked.

             
“Yes, because they don’t love to teach.  You cannot impart a passion for learning if you don’t have both a passion for learning yourself and a love for your students.”  She paused. “I don’t want to be too hard on the women, though.  Teaching is not just reading and writing.”

             
“What do you mean?”  Rose asked.  Then she blushed and looked around.  She realized she was giving no one else a chance to talk.  But the others didn’t seem to mind, so she turned back around to hear the answer.

             
“Teachers have a rather difficult place in the community.  Especially if they are young women.  They are expected to not only teach but to serve the community as well.  The restrictions on them are very stern.  For some reason towns think if a teacher has fun it somehow keeps her from being a good teacher.   I don’t share those feelings, but they can be very difficult to fight.”

             
“It’s worth it, isn’t it?” Rose asked anxiously. 

             
“My goodness, yes,” Marianne laughed.  “I would do nothing else.  There is nothing like watching the face of a child light up when they finally catch on to what you’re teaching them.”

             
Rose smiled.  “I know,” she said softly, more to herself than to anyone.

             
“You’re Rose, aren’t you?” Marianne asked with a smile.

             
Rose nodded. 

             
“Alice has told me about you.  About your desire to teach.”

             
“It’s all I want to do,” Rose said firmly. 

             
Alice stepped to the front then.  “It’s time for math class.  Gather your books.  I will meet you in the other room.”  Then she turned to Rose.  “You may stay here and talk with Marianne.  You two have a lot in common.” 

             
Rose turned to Marianne as soon as the room was empty.  “Thank you so much for coming today and telling us about the contraband camps.”

             
“Did you know anything of them before?”

             
Rose nodded.  “I intend to teach there.”

             
“Would you like a place in my school?  I would be pleased to have you join me,” Marianne said sincerely.

             
Rose was startled.  “Now?”

             
Marianne nodded.  “Alice has told me about your plantation school.  She says you are a very bright student, far above many here in the school.  You would be a wonderful addition to our school.”

             
Rose flushed with pleasure but shook her head firmly.  “I can’t go now.”

             
“Why not?”

             
Rose struggled to explain.  “It’s not time yet.  I know I will be teaching in the contraband camps.  But there is still so much I want to learn.  When I begin to help my people, I want to be as well equipped as possible.”  She paused.  “I believe my people will be free someday soon.  I just feel it in my bones.  I agree with you they are going to need black teachers.  Teachers who can understand them because they know where they have come from.  Teachers who understand their perceived laziness is merely an indication of being told what to do all their lives - of being robbed of any personal initiative.” 

             
She stopped and then looked Marianne straight in the eye.  “I don’t just want to be a teacher.  I want to be a leader for my people.  I want to start schools that will make a difference.”  Then she paused, embarrassed at her own honesty.  She had never told anyone the full scope of her dream before.

             
Marianne reached forward and took her hand.  “I believe you will do that, Rose,” she said firmly.  “You have a vision and a dream.  And a willingness to work hard to make it come true.  That combination can never be defeated.”  She looked at the clock and rose to her feet.  “I have to speak at a luncheon in just a few minutes.  I’m afraid I must be going.  I will count on hearing from you when you’re ready to come to the camps.”

             
“You can indeed count on it, Marianne,” Rose said.

             
Rose was walking as fast on the way home as she had on the way to school.  She knew Moses wouldn’t be home for a while, but just being in the house, waiting for him so that she could share her news, was enough.  Bursting through the door, she was startled to see him rise from the chair by the window.  Obviously he had been waiting for her. 

             
“Moses!  What in the world are you doing home this time of day?  Did you lose your job?”  Then she looked at him more closely.  There was a huge grin on his face.

             
Moses shook his head.  “Nope.  I quit!”

             
Rose stared at him.  “What in the world did you do a thing like that for?”  In spite of his obvious happiness, she felt a pang of uneasiness.  “Did something bad happen?”

             
Moses laughed and stepped forward to take her hand.  “Nothing happened.  At least not anything bad.  Come over by the window.  I want to talk to you.”               

             
Rose followed him to the window, took a seat, and then turned to him.  “All right,” she said with a smile.  “I’m listening.”

             
Moses gave her a brilliant smile.  “I was accepted as a Union spy today,” he said triumphantly.

             
Rose gasped and sank back against the pillows.  She knew Moses wanted her to be excited.  All she could think about was that they were going to be apart.  “Why don’t you tell me about it?” she managed. 

             
“McClellan is finally going to make his move.  I heard he met with Lincoln two days ago.  The pressure is on.  The plan is to take Richmond.  They figure if they can take the capital, the Confederacy will collapse.  They are going to go in from the coast.”

             
“Past the plantation,” Rose murmured, suddenly frightened for Carrie.

             
Moses read her face.  “I’ve thought of Carrie, too,” he said with a troubled look.  “I’ve taken a look at the map.  We don’t seem to be going too awfully close to the plantation.  It looks like we’ll be north of it.”

             
Rose nodded, but she was still troubled.  “What will you be doing?”

             
Moses shrugged.  “Whatever they tell me, I reckon.  They need someone who knows the area.  Who can get around without raising too much suspicion.  Someone who can help them figure out the best way to get where they’re going.  I’ll help anyway I can.”

             
Rose looked at him.  She had rarely seen him so excited.  She knew how much he wanted to play a part in helping the Union win.  He hoped it would mean the end to slavery.  She also knew how much he wanted to return to the South in the hope of finding his family.  She took a deep breath and smiled.  “When do you leave?”

             
Moses hesitated and then looked her straight in the eye.  “Tomorrow.”

             
Rose felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach.  “Tomorrow?” she whispered.

             
Moses nodded.  “I know it’s sudden, honey, but they are already beginning to pull together the troops.  Now that the decision has been made, everything needs to move quickly.”

             
Rose shook her head, too stunned to really comprehend what he was saying.  “How many of you?”

             
“How many Union troops?”

             
“No,” Rose answered.  “How many black spies?”

             
Again Moses hesitated.  “Just one.  Me.”

             
Rose stared at him.  “You’re going to be the only black man with all those white men?”

             
Moses nodded again, the excitement returning to his face.  “I could be blazing the way for more blacks to follow.  If I do a good job, if I can prove myself, maybe they’ll let other blacks serve.  There are thousands eager to enlist!”

             
Rose struggled to push down the bile of fear rushing to her throat.  “Let me get this straight.  You are leaving tomorrow to be the only black spy with thousands of white men?”

             
Moses stood and walked over to her; then he lifted her from the chair and took her into his arms.  “I’ll be fine, Rose.  You know I’ve got to do this.”               

             
“Yes, I know,” Rose murmured into his broad chest.  Then she wrapped her arms around him and began to sob.

Dinner that night was a somber affair.  Aunt Abby had been just as stunned as Rose when she arrived home and received the news.  She had insisted on fixing a special dinner.  Now, an hour later, Rose could hardly remember what she had eaten.  Whatever it had been, it was sitting like a lead weight in the bottom of her stomach.  Moses was still talking quietly to Aunt Abby when she excused herself and climbed heavily up the stairs to their bedroom. 

              When she entered the room, all she could do was stare dully at the canopy bed.  Soon she would be sleeping alone.  Soon she would be spending all her nights wondering whether Moses was dead or alive.  She knelt now beside the window and stared out at the swirling snowflakes dancing in the light of the gas lamps lining the street. 

             
“Lettin’ go of someone you love... why girl, that be the hardest thing you ever have to do.”

             
Rose lifted her head as her mama’s words rang through her heart.  It was as if her mama was right in the room with her.  She could almost feel her wrinkled hand smoothing her hair as she talked. 

             
“You gonna think ‘bout him every day.  You gonna miss him with an achin’ every day.  That’s how you gonna keep him alive in your heart, girl.”

             
“But, Mama, what if I never see him again?  What if something happens to him?”  Rose moaned softly.

             
“Then you’ll cry and go on livin’.  But girl, you be borrowing trouble ‘fore there be trouble to borrow.  You done be lettin’ that fear take over your heart again.  What happened to your trust, chile’?  What happened to your trust?”