Emma Field Book I - coming of age in the changing times of the mid-19th century

Chapter XXXV - The Root Cellar

Elizabeth said not a word when Emma appeared beside the root cellar, her suitcase in her hand, her head bowed, her hair wet and stringy, her grey dress torn. Elizabeth leaned on the basket of beans and looked into the girl's eyes.

"Thee can stay here," she said plainly.

Emma didn't move, but her eyes were choked with tears. Her face twisted, her shoulders shook with wrenching sobs. Elizabeth stepped carefully over the beans and peas and took Emma's hands in hers.

"God is within thee and around thee, Emma."

Emma buried her face in Elizabeth's feather-soft bosom. She wrapped her arms around the girth of the big, comfortable woman.

"I know. I know that, Elizabeth, but it was awful, just awful. I hate Mr. Franklin. His eyes followed me everywhere, just like a hawk. Today he touched me – all over, he touched me...in the water...with his hands and his...his tongue...and it felt awful. Like he would eat me or kill me."

Sobs wracked her body. When she finally quieted a little, she continued. "And the children...I hate tending those children. They are never happy. They fight each other all the time. They ask for so much. I spend all day longing for the time when they are in bed, and all the time they are asleep I am dreading the time when they will awaken."

"God is within thee and around thee," the Quaker repeated. "Thee has listened well to God within. Thee need not suffer; that serves no one. Come here, Emma child." Elizabeth took Emma's case from her and they sat on the step to the root cellar.

There was silence for a long time, as slow and steady tears coursed down Emma's face.

"I feel like such a failure, Elizabeth. You were so good to take me in after Father died; but I don't want to take advantage of your goodness. I need to make my own way." Her face twisted again and she covered it with both hands.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Emma, I will tell thee a story I have told few people. I know of the pain of which thee speaks...I too once spent time with a man who made me feel dirty; and he was a weighty Friend. He was respected by many, including my parents. He was respected and he also...he also had his way with me when I was young and uncertain and unable to defend myself."

Her voice tightened. Emma looked up and saw the woman's eyes were clouding with tears.

"That was a long time ago, yet look at the power he still has over me," she smiled as though looking at herself in a mirror. "I know little of these things, but I do know that it should never be like that – ever. The true union between man and woman is the union of equals. Neither person should feel sullied by it. I didn't know that then, so I did not remove myself from the situation as thee has just now done. And so, a child resulted." She hesitated.

Crows cawed from high in the ash tree. Elizabeth looked directly at Emma and, in a voice as quiet as a sunrise, whispered, "That child was Prue."

The crows cawed again. Emma straightened her back. Elizabeth rested her elbows on her knees, clasped her hands together, and stared unseeing toward the strong brick building.

"Prue is your daughter?" Emma asked quietly.

"Yes."

There was silence as the two reflected on what had been revealed.

"Yes. She was born of that union which should never have been. Yet, here she is – a girl I could never imagine my life without. I was fortunate, Emma. In most circles I would have been banished as a 'fallen woman.'

"My parents were not at all happy. It was very hard for them, especially as they had held this man in high regard. But, in many ways they were weightier Friends than he was. They bore my pain with me, and helped me to create a life for us both. They raised Prue until she was able to join me as a student at the Nine Partners Boarding School. When this boarding school opened we were able to come here.