Recap: Hope’s father tells her that the family has to leave. KKK members set fire to a mansion across the street thinking it was their house. The family is going to drive to some distant cousins in Pennsylvania and stay there.
Mother shook me gently awake. I’d gone to bed in my clothing.
“We have to leave now,” She whispered. “Father left the car parked in the back. Follow me out back. Sarah, Steve, and Henrietta are waiting to say goodbye.”
“You take care now, honey. Don’t forget us,” Sarah whispered.
Henrietta, our cook, was crying softly. “I’ll miss you,” I said softly. I swallowed back sobs as I followed Mother into our Cadillac.
We pulled away under a moonless night sky. I glanced at our home. I felt like it was begging us to stay. Such a strange notion, but the windows seemed like they were crying.
We drove familiar roads, passing homes of neighbors and friends we’d known for years, whom we might never see again, and then Father turned onto Highway One.
“They may expect us to go this way,” Mother said.
“I’m going to switch to back roads when the sun’s up.”
We drove down the empty highway. A truck passed us on the road. Father’s grip tightened on the wheel, and he sped up. I held my breath. Thankfully, the truck disappeared around a bend. I spotted some baby deer by the roadside.
I could see tension in Father’s shoulders and Mother’s stiff posture. She held a road map in her lap. I couldn’t remember the last time Father had driven us anywhere. Steve always took us places. Questions filled my mind, but I didn’t want to ask them when the car was bursting with worry.
Would the new house be big like our old house? Would I like my second cousins? Would they have a girl near my age? What would Father do in Pennsylvania? Would he still work in real estate? Ballet? That was a fresh wound, too sensitive to touch.
As we drove towards North Carolina, soft yellow rays ribboned the sky. The dark curtain lifted to reveal the beautiful North Carolina shoreline. Sunlight sparkled on the waves. Seagulls dipped in the water and an occasional surfer glided a wave. I wanted to stop and watch, but our car sped forward.
“I’m not sure which route to take.” Father slowed and pulled over to study the map.
“I think we’ll stick to the back roads.”
Mother pulled a corn muffin from a bag of food. “Would you like one?”
“No, thank you.” My stomach was too knotted.
We drove on. We stopped in Virginia for gas. Mother went into the convenience store to buy drinks.
“Are we almost there?” I asked.
Father shook his head.
Just then, a black car with a crooked antenna sticking from the roof pulled into the gas station. Its sudden appearance was like a shark in calm waters.
“Go quick, get your mother.” Father’s voice rose.
My heart thudded.
I flew into the store. Mother was about to purchase some bottles of cola.
“We have to go now,” I whispered urgently.
Mother left the Cokes on the counter and rushed after me.
We piled into the car and Father sped off.
I glanced behind.
“I’m sorry about the drinks, Hope,” Father’s voice was more natural.
“It’s okay.” I was shaking.
Just then, I glimpsed the black car. Its crooked antenna gleamed in the sunlight.
Father pressed hard on the accelerator. Our car shot forward.
Fields and farms rushed past in a blur. Father turned down a road. He zigzagged, retracing his route. He turned down back streets.
Mother gazed behind. “I don’t see it, Martin.”
“They could still be chasing us.”
My heart pounded so hard I almost couldn’t breathe.
Father zoomed. “I wish we’d taken a different car. This one is too recognizable.”
A white Cadillac. Funny, Heather complimented it. I wished we had a plain car.
We reached a fork in the road. “Which way?”
“Route One.”
“They’ll––”
“Take It!” I’d never heard my mother speak so authoritatively.
We raced along Route One. There were more cars on the road and pick-up trucks and jeeps.
I started feeling nauseous. “I don’t feel well.”
Mother handed me a bag.
My stomach lurched. We sped down the highway and then Father took an exit.
“It’s the wrong one but I have to lose them.”
The people in the black car had to be KKK. I was sick again into the bag.
“Father, why are they chasing us?”
Father’s shoulders sagged. “One night I was working late. A man broke into my office. He hadn’t expected anyone to be there. He threw an envelope at me and said, ‘You saw my face. If you call the police, we will kill you and your family. There is no place you can hide.’ My hands were shaking when I opened the letter that said to stop disrupting the peaceful life in South Carolina. How dare you sell homes to Blacks. There was a seal of KKK on it. I dropped it like a poisonous snake, and I called the police. They know I contacted the FBI, too. That’s why they set that fire. Only they picked the wrong house. That’s why we had to leave.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Hope. I’m sorry I dragged you and Mother into this.”
My insides were fluttering, and part of me wished Father had not followed the integration law or called the police. Then we could have stayed in our mansion and I could have been in the ballet contest. I shuddered and wiped tears from my cheek.
Mother put her arm around me. “It’s going to be okay, Hope. We will get away.” I was glad she didn’t know the mean thoughts I was having. Again, I thought of Grandma Belle and her prayer book. How I wished I’d asked her to teach me how to pray.
It was late afternoon when we stopped at a deserted rest area to stretch.
I was dizzy.
Mother ran inside and bought me a cola from a soda machine.
We hurried back into the car and Father sped off again.
“I want to get to Maryland before midnight. We’ll stop there to catch some sleep and then head to Pennsylvania.”
Pennsylvania was so far away from home and friends.
We drove on and on. The sunset was a canvas splashed with pink and lavender.
“That sky means rain,” Mother said.
“It won’t matter. We’ll be almost there by tomorrow.”
My mother’s worried eyes didn’t reassure me.
When we reached Maryland, Father pulled the car to the side of the road behind some tall grass. The night was pitch black. “We’ll sleep for an hour,” he said, yawning.
All three of us slept in the car. I dreamed of dancing on a large stage and an audience clapping. I woke to a clap of thunder.
Father and Mother were whispering. “It’s a huge storm. Should we wait it out?” Mother asked.
“No, it’s too deserted.”
Father pulled the car back onto the road and accelerated.
Rain slashed the car windows. It grew steadily stronger. A fierce wind battered our car. Father gripped the wheel. “That wind is pushing me out of my lane.” Lightening zigzagged a wild dance, and then I started counting to myself. Heather had taught me that trick when we were little.
One, two–– “Kaboom!”
I screamed. Mother held my hand. “That is awfully close, Martin.”
The rain was so thick that it felt like we were driving under water. “It’s so dark and the water is so heavy I can’t see where I’m going.” Father’s voice rose. Rain like ocean waves thumped against the car. We skidded.
“Martin!” Mother yelled. “Please pull over. It’s too dangerous.”
Father pulled over onto a shoulder.
To Be continued…
Susie Garber is the author of the newly released historical fiction novel, Flight of the Doves (Menucha Publishers, 2023), Please Be Polite (Menucha Publishers, 2022), A Bridge in Time (Menucha Publishers, 2021), Secrets in Disguise (Menucha Publishers, 2020), Denver Dreams, a novel (Jerusalem Publications, 2009), Memorable Characters…Magnificent Stories (Scholastic, 2002), Befriend (Menucha Publishers, 2013), The Road Less Traveled (Feldheim, 2015), fiction serials and features in Binah Magazine and Binyan Magazine, and “Moon Song” in Binyan (2021-2022).
