WE RODE INTO GREENS CROSSING SITTING ON the two wagons, bouncing along the street toward Watson’s Mill, Katie leading, me following. Jeremiah had jumped off about a mile from town and disappeared across a field.
These were our fifth and sixth wagonloads since we’d started on the cotton field.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Henry as we passed the livery stable. I could tell he was watching us a little more carefully than I liked.
“Please, Mr. Watson,” said Katie when we got to the mill and his men were unloading the two wagons, “my, uh … could you pay us today for all the cotton we’ve brought so far? My … my mama wants me to deposit it in the bank.”
“Certainly, Kathleen,” he said. “I’ll go inside and tally up your account, then we will add today’s weight to it. Do you want it in cash or a bank draft?”
Katie seemed confused for just a second. But then she answered, “Cash please, Mr. Watson.”
We kept waiting. I tried to sit there looking down as if I wasn’t paying much attention. But every once in a while I saw Henry down the street eyeing us.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, Mr. Watson came out of his office.
“Here you are, Kathleen,” he said, handing her a small bag. “You’d better take this straight to the bank. Tell your mama I wish it were more, but hopefully she’ll get the rest of the crop harvested in a little faster. And here are the scale sheets,” he said, handing her a paper, “—two thousand one hundred and ten pounds at sixteen and a half cents a pound, which makes the three hundred forty-eight dollars that’s in the bag.”
Katie took both the paper and the bag, staring at him like she hadn’t heard right.
“Did you say … three hundred dollars?” she said.
“Yes, three hundred forty-eight.”
“Thank you … thank you, Mr. Watson!”
Katie turned and ran back to where I was sitting, her eyes huge and a big smile on her face. Then she stopped and turned back.
“May we please leave the wagons and horses here for a few minutes, Mr. Watson,” she asked, “while we walk down to the bank?”
“Of course, Kathleen,” laughed Mr. Watson. “And don’t spend it all in one place!”
I got down. Katie was obviously excited. I tried not to act like I’d understood, but I was dying of curiosity.
“Did he say what I think he said?” I whispered as we walked down the street toward the bank.
“Yes … yes!” said Katie. “There’s over three hundred dollars here. It’s enough … it’s enough, Mayme!”
“I had no idea cotton cost so much,” I said. “No wonder plantation owners are rich.”
Katie laughed. “Maybe we are rich too,” she said, “for a few minutes at least.”
We walked into the bank and I stopped. “I’ll wait for you out here,” I said.
“This time you’re coming in with me, Mayme,” said Katie.
“I can’t, Katie. People will stare.”
“I don’t care. You helped me save Rosewood. You earned most of this money, and so you’re coming in with me. We’re going to pay off that loan, and with what’s left over, I’m going to give you twenty dollars and you’re going to open your own bank account.”
“Twenty dollars! Katie, I couldn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear another word, Mayme. If you don’t do it … I will open an account myself with your name on it.”
Katie marched toward the door, with me following.
We walked into the bank, two dirty, scruffy girls, one white and one black. We hadn’t even stopped to clean up after our morning’s work.
I could see people glance up immediately all through the place looking at us. But Katie didn’t seem to mind. She went straight to Mr. Taylor’s desk.
He looked up but didn’t smile. I think he was getting very tired of seeing Katie all the time instead of her mother.
“Yes, Miss Clairborne, what is it?” he said curtly.
“Today is September twenty-ninth, I believe,” said Katie.
“It is. In fact I have just been completing the foreclosure documents right here. Since your mother persists in refusing to—”
Katie set down the bag of money on the desk with a loud clunk. Now even more heads turned.
“Would you please take one hundred fifty-three dollars of this,” said Katie, “for the payoff of the loan, and deposit all but twenty dollars of the rest into our account?”
“Well … I, uh, yes … yes, of course,” he said, fumbling for words as he rose from his chair. He pulled the bag across the desk, opened the top, and looked in. His eyes widened just like Katie’s at what he saw.
“This is … this is, of course, good news. Yes … I will see to it, Miss Clairborne!”
He reached down to his desk, picked up some papers, then smiled at Katie. “It appears we will have no more need of these,” he added, then ripped the papers in half. “I will process everything immediately. And you say you want twenty dollars in cash?”
“Yes,” answered Katie. “We want to open a new account with it.”
“I see. What kind of account?”
“Just a regular account, but in someone else’s name.”
“Ah, I see … of course. And whose name would that be?”
“Miss Mary Ann Jukes,” said Katie. “This is Miss Jukes with me,” she said, nodding toward me. “She will now be your customer.—Mary Ann, I would like to introduce you to the manager of the bank, Mr. Taylor.”
I reached out my hand. He looked at it as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it. I don’t know whether he’d ever shaken a colored person’s hand before.
“Uh, I … I am, uh—pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss, uh … Miss Jukes,” he said, hesitating a second, then limply shaking my hand and releasing it quickly.
“You will open the account, then?” said Katie.
“Yes … yes, right away,” said Mr. Taylor, picking up the money bag and walking toward the counter. I think he was relieved to get away from me!
Katie looked over at me and gave a little smile.
Yes, sir, I thought—she was growing up fast! She had just put a banker in his place who was probably the richest man in town.
When we walked out of the bank ten minutes later, we were both smiling. And I was holding a little booklet that had the words Mary Ann Jukes written across the top of it, and that inside on the first line said, Sept 29, Deposit, $20.
I’d never been so proud of anything in my life! Now I felt rich!