Mustard Seed Read online

  ALSO BY LAILA IBRAHIM

  Yellow Crocus

  Living Right

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Laila Ibrahim

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781542045568

  ISBN-10: 1542045568

  Cover design by Laura Klynstra

  In gratitude for all the known and unknown people who sowed seeds of love and justice that matured in my lifetime and for the opportunities to sow seeds of my own.

  For my Maya, my Kalin, and my Rinda, I love you down to the ground and up to the sky, always.

  CONTENTS

  START READING

  CHARACTER LIST

  RICHMOND, VIRGINIA, 1868

  PROLOGUE JORDAN

  CHAPTER 1 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 2 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 3 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 4 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 5 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 6 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 7 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 8 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 9 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 10 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 11 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 12 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 13 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 14 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 15 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 16 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 17 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 18 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 19 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 20 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 21 LISBETH

  CHAPTER 22 JORDAN

  CHAPTER 23 LISBETH

  EPILOGUE JORDAN

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

  Section 2. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

  Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States

  I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it would move.

  Matthew 17:20

  CHARACTER LIST

  Jordan Freedman: a nineteen-year-old teacher who lives with her parents in Oberlin, Ohio

  Mattie Freedman (Mama): Jordan’s mother

  Emmanuel Freedman (Pops): Jordan’s father

  Samuel Freedman: Jordan’s brother

  Nora Freedman: Jordan’s sister-in-law

  Otis Freedman: Jordan’s nephew

  Lisbeth Johnson (Momma): thirty-year-old farmwife living in Oberlin, Ohio

  Matthew Johnson (Poppa): Lisbeth’s husband

  Sadie Johnson: Lisbeth’s six-year-old daughter

  Sammy Johnson: Lisbeth’s nine-year-old son

  Ann Wainwright (Grandmother Wainwright): Lisbeth’s mother

  Jonathan Wainwright (Grandfather Wainwright): Lisbeth’s father

  Jack Wainwright: Lisbeth’s brother

  Julianne Wainwright: Lisbeth’s sister-in-law

  Johnny Wainwright: Lisbeth’s nephew

  Emily Smith: Lisbeth’s half sister

  William Smith: Emily’s husband

  Willie Smith: Emily’s son

  Ari and Winnie Smith: Emily’s parents-in-law

  Mary Bartley: Lisbeth’s childhood friend

  Daniel Bartley: Mary’s husband

  Emma: Mary’s nurse

  Mary’s children: Danny, Harry, Rose, Hannah, and Freddy

  Sarah: Jordan’s cousin

  Sophia Rebecca: Sarah’s daughter

  Ella Georgia: Sarah’s daughter

  Edward Cunningham: Lisbeth’s former fiancé. Owner of White Pines

  Alfie and Alice Richards: new owners of Fair Oaks, the plantation where Lisbeth and Mattie lived

  Mother Johnson (Granny): Lisbeth’s mother-in-law

  Father Johnson (Poppy): Lisbeth’s father-in-law

  Mitch Johnson: Lisbeth’s brother-in-law

  Michael Johnson: Lisbeth’s brother-in-law. Lives in California with his wife and children

  Maggie Johnson: Michael’s wife

  Aurelia and Emma Johnson: Michael and Maggie’s children

  Miss Grace: owner of the boardinghouse where Jordan, Mattie, and Samuel stay

  Mrs. Avery: mistress of the contraband orphanage

  Tessie: lives in the orphanage

  RICHMOND, VIRGINIA, 1868

  PROLOGUE

  JORDAN

  1868

  Teachers are not supposed to have favorites, but I do. On the first day of the term last fall, little Sadie Johnson slipped her hand into mine, looked straight at me with her bright-blue eyes, and declared with a slight lisp, “It’s my first day too.” My affection for that sweet White girl took root and only grew throughout the school year.

  Mama says I feel a special kinship with her because she’s Lisbeth’s daughter, but I disagree—I hardly know the woman. Once a year she arrives with a basket of holiday treats for our family. Lisbeth and Mama catch up for a bit and hug long and hard before she leaves our life until the next Christmas. Mama says Lisbeth’s affection was written into my soul before I had words or thoughts, but I think Mama is speaking for herself, not for me.

  Lisbeth and Mama were special to each other before. I know about before only from stories. The tales of the quarters, the big house, and the fields are like Greek myths to me. I was only a baby when Mama carried me off the plantation to join Pops and Samuel in Oberlin. I don’t consider myself a freed slave, but Mama never lets me forget that we were all enslaved once, whether I like it or not. They gave me a last name that doesn’t let me or the world forget it either: Freedman.

  My parents are proud of their history—as they should be. I’m grateful for all that they have given to me; truly I am, but they don’t understand me, and I don’t believe they ever can. The gulf between our lives is simply too enormous.

  CHAPTER 1

  LISBETH

  Oberlin, Ohio

  Summer 1868

  Lisbeth’s hands were mixing biscuit dough for supper when Matthew walked into the kitchen with the envelope. Mother’s precise handwriting jumped out at her from the white paper. She didn’t break her rhythm or comment, but her body jumped to alert like a rabbit sensing a fox.

  Matthew pecked her on the cheek from behind. Then he greeted Sadie, who was shelling peas at the plain wooden table, and swung her out of her chair into a huge hug, her legs dangling in the air.

  Lisbeth smiled. Matthew’s affection for their children never failed to touch her spirit. Her mother could not possibly understand the deep pleasure Lisbeth took in the daily routines of domestic life and the love of her family. The warmth in their cozy home in Ohio was so very different from Lisbeth’s childhood home, the Fair Oaks plantation in Virginia.

  Matthew held up Mother’s letter. “Would you like to read it now?”

  Lisbeth waved her sticky fingers and shook her head. “Would you, please?”

  As he sliced open the envelope, Lisbeth steeled herself for unpleasant commentary disguised as polite news. Ever the “lady,” Mother did not write anything that Miss Taylor, the comport
ment instructor of Lisbeth’s youth, could criticize, but she never failed to point out the ways that Lisbeth’s life was lacking: in financial wealth, social standing, and sophistication.

  In the ten years since Lisbeth had fled Virginia, Mother had written nearly every month, but she had not once visited Ohio. Not after Sammy, her first grandson, was born in 1859, nor after Sadie’s birth three years later. Lisbeth had hoped her mother would be willing to travel once the War between the States was over, but her parents had disappointed her by ignoring each of her invitations in the three years since the end of the conflict. And Mother had not extended an invitation to them.

  In his calm voice Matthew read out loud:

  Dearest Elizabeth and family,

  I hope this finds you well. I imagine you are readying yourselves for the harvest. That is a simple pleasure in life that has been taken from me as I continue to mourn for my lost home.

  You will be happy to know that Mary Bartley welcomed another son. After two daughters in a row they are delighted. Do not let it weigh on you that God has blessed them with five children. I’m sure his plan for you has a reason and a purpose.

  Jack’s son had a fever last week. Johnny is still in bed but is expected to make a full recovery. He has missed many days of instruction, but since he is as bright as his father, I’m sure he will make them up in no time.

  Your father is ill and is not expected to live into the New Year. It is only right for you to see him one last time to seek his forgiveness and help me with preparations. Let me know when to expect you.

  Regards,

  Mother

  Stunned, Lisbeth collapsed into the chair across the table from Sadie. A swirl of emotion surged in her chest.

  Over the years she had pushed down the hurt from her parents’ rejection. She had accepted that they would have a relationship only over correspondence and had not expected to ever have an in-person visit with them again.

  But in her heart she longed to see them again, to make peace and perhaps cultivate true affection. Her choice had caused them harm—she knew that now with time and maturity.

  Matthew’s tanned hand tenderly covered her sticky pale fingers. “You must go,” he insisted kindly.

  “I would be gone for weeks, perhaps months—what about the harvest?” Lisbeth asked.

  “I can manage without you,” Matthew replied. “He’s your father. You would regret not being with him at the end.”

  “But he is nothing to me. He has not bothered to write me a letter.” Her voice cracked, and tears pushed at the back of her eyes, her body contradicting her words. She acted as if she did not feel the sting of her father’s disinterest, but in truth it hurt.

  Matthew stared at her, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Any dream of moving past our wounds, past our warfare, will only come through forgiveness. The North and the South cannot be irreparably divided—whether family to family or state to state.”

  If she went she could apologize, and they might offer forgiveness and blessings. This would be her final chance with her father, and maybe her only chance with her mother.

  “I had resigned myself to never stepping foot in Virginia again,” Lisbeth said.

  “Even if you do not get the reconciliation you desire, you will know you have done your duty as a faithful daughter.”

  Lisbeth exhaled sharply and nodded.

  Sadie perked up, and her bright eyes sparkled with excitement. “You’re visiting Grandmother and Grandfather Wainwright?! Can Sammy and I come too? To Virginia?”

  Lisbeth hadn’t realized her daughter was following their conversation. She considered the girl’s question.

  Matthew replied, “Sadie, your mother has just been delivered sobering news. Give Momma time, and then we will make a plan.”

  “Yes, sir,” the girl agreed, leaning back in the chair, “but I very much want to meet Grandmother and Grandfather Wainwright. And Uncle Jack. And my cousin Johnny! Don’t you think Grandfather wants to meet me? And Sammy?”

  Lisbeth’s chest swelled. She wished she shared her daughter’s faith that they would be welcomed by her family. Sadie had a romantic notion of her Wainwright grandparents, imagining them to be like Granny and Poppy, the grandparents who had made an effort to visit them in Oberlin—Matthew’s parents.

  Lisbeth sidestepped Sadie’s naïve question. “My father met your brother once, when I visited before the war.”

  “He was just a baby; babies can’t do anything,” Sadie explained. “Now Sammy is nine and can teach them all about baseball. And playing cards!”

  Matthew laughed.

  “I agree that your brother is much more interesting now than he was when we last visited,” Lisbeth replied, “though babies are a blessing, even if they can’t do much.”

  “Do they hate us because we are for the Union?” her daughter asked, worry furrowing her usually smooth brow.

  Lisbeth sighed at the question. How could she possibly explain the complexity of her relationship with her parents to a six-year-old? They had run her out of their home when she had eloped with Matthew Johnson rather than wed the suitor they had chosen for her. She’d utterly betrayed them by marrying an abolitionist and moving to Ohio instead of becoming the mistress of White Pines, a large Virginia tobacco plantation. Lisbeth looked at Matthew, hoping he had a reply, but he just gave a slight shrug.

  “Hate is a very strong word,” Lisbeth stated more clearly than she felt. “Your grandparents do not hate us. Though they are unhappy with the outcome of the war.”

  “Will we see slaves?” the little girl asked with wide eyes.

  “Slavery is over, Sadie,” Lisbeth said. “It’s a shameful part of the past but is no longer a stain on our country. Do you understand?”

  “Yes’m,” her curious child agreed, but then pushed on, intrigue in her voice. “But you saw slaves when you lived in Virginia?”

  Lisbeth nodded. The children knew that both of their parents’ families had owned slaves, but she and Matthew had avoided telling them her family owned one of the large tobacco plantations that had profited off the labor of nearly one hundred enslaved workers. It would cause pain for no purpose, and Lisbeth feared that they would lose respect for her if they knew the whole truth about her childhood while they were too young to put it in perspective.

  “And you, Poppa?” Sadie asked.

  “Yes, every home had slaves,” Matthew replied.

  “Many homes,” Lisbeth gently corrected her husband. “Not all.”

  “Slaves didn’t have slaves, did they?” Sadie asked.

  Matthew and Lisbeth laughed.

  Lisbeth said, “No, slaves did not have slaves.”

  “But some Negroes had slaves,” Matthew explained.

  Sadie looked at her father in utter disbelief; her eyebrows pulled down, and her mouth scrunched up.

  “It’s strange, but true,” Matthew confirmed.

  “Your parents had slaves”—Sadie pointed to Matthew—“but they aren’t mad that there’s no more slavery. And your parents had slaves”—Sadie pointed to Lisbeth—“but they are mad that there’s no slaves anymore.”

  “Correct,” Matthew replied, then looked at Lisbeth. This was a difficult conversation to have with Sadie. They’d hoped to protect her from the cruelties of the world as long as possible, but they also cherished being forthright with their children.

  “There’s people who used to be slaves still living in Virginia, right? If I get to go, I’ll see some,” she declared, excitement filling her voice.

  Lisbeth was taken aback by her daughter’s attitude. “Sadie, there is nothing to celebrate about the cruel treatment of other people.”

  Sadie nodded earnestly.

  Lisbeth’s child would have been surprised to learn that the very chair she was sitting on and the table she was working at were made by former slaves. Sadie knew Emmanuel and Samuel Freedman, the woodworkers who crafted this table. But she didn’t know that Lisbeth and Samuel had known one another as ch
ildren. Until he’d escaped when he was ten years old, Samuel had been forced to work on the plantation owned by Lisbeth’s father.

  Each winter Sadie accompanied Lisbeth to deliver a Christmas package to the Freedmans, believing it to be a thank-you to Samuel’s mother, Mattie, the midwife who had delivered Sammy and Sadie. But Lisbeth brought the basket in gratitude for so much more.

  Mattie had been Lisbeth’s nurse from the moment of her birth until Lisbeth was twelve years old. As a child Lisbeth was utterly devoted to Mattie, feeling more connected to her than to her own mother. Jordan, Mattie’s daughter, was the first baby Lisbeth had ever loved. Lisbeth had doted on her in the afternoons whenever she could get away from her lessons. When Mattie took Jordan and escaped from bondage, Lisbeth lost the two people she loved the most. Her life had been irrevocably turned upside down in an instant. That they both ended up in Oberlin, Ohio, was not entirely a coincidence, as many forward-thinking people chose to make this progressive community their home before and after the war. Their lives did not intersect often here, but Lisbeth was forever grateful for Mattie’s love and guidance, which had shaped her into the woman she had become.

  Sadie had no idea that their church and her school were unusual in their mingling of the races and in the roles of women. For her it was normal to have a colored teacher and classmates of every hue. Jordan Freedman had started teaching there last fall—the same year that Sadie had begun her schooling. Lisbeth was amused and delighted at the strange turn of events that caused her daughter to admire Mattie’s daughter so very much.

  “Will we get to stay with Granny and Poppy too when we go to Virginia?” Sadie asked.

  “I will be sure to see them when I go, but we have not agreed that you or your brother will be coming with me,” Lisbeth told her daughter.

  But in her heart she knew that it was time for both of her children to meet her parents.

  An hour into her first train ride ever, Lisbeth’s pulse was returning to normal. The blur of scenery outside the window was so dizzying that she had pulled down the wooden shutter, much to her children’s disappointment. She desperately needed a pause from the stimulation. The car was overly warm, but she kept the window closed tight because of the deafening noise and the bits of soot that flew in. One passenger, sitting just a few seats in front of them, had a hole burned into her traveling gown when a spark from the engine landed on her before it had fully extinguished.