The two worked together and in no time had a piping hot and delicious-smelling breakfast on the table. Mia turned to go upstairs, only to find the two bleary-eyed boys already standing at the bottom.
Billy rubbed his eyes with his fists, his black hair standing straight up. “It smells real good upstairs.”
“Smells even better down here,” Elias said and hurried to his chair.
They ate in silence, no one looking at the empty chair at the head of the table. Mia scooted her hotcake around in the syrup, her appetite dulled after she sat down and saw Josiah’s empty spot at the table.
“Mia, what are we going to do today?” Billy asked, stuffing the last bite of hotcake in his mouth. She smiled at the syrup he’d managed to smear over the lower half of his face.
“How about we do something a bit different?” She laid her fork on her plate and pushed it away, her hands dropping into her lap. “After you and Elias clean out the horses’ stalls, then feed and water them, I’d like to swap stories.”
The children frowned at each other, then at her. Summer, as the oldest, spoke up first. “We don’t understand. What kind of stories?”
“The stories you were told when you were little by your parents. The important histories about the Creeks or any other tribes they might have mentioned.” She met Elias’s green gaze. “Stories your mother may have told you about the negroes and the slaves back east. The important stories that tell who your people are. I want to learn about your cultures, and I can tell you a few tales about who the white people are and where they come from.”
Billy scowled at her. “Why would we want to know about them?”
Mia smiled at him. “When you first saw me, what was your first thought?” She glanced at Summer. “Or yours? You thought I was a mean white woman who wouldn’t want you around, didn’t you?”
The three children glanced at one another, then slowly nodded.
“You based that opinion on what you knew about a few white people, am I right?”
Again, they nodded.
Her smile widened. “Now, if you had known more white people before meeting me or learned their history, do you think your first impression of me might have been different? Would you have reacted differently?”
Summer shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I think you would have. Knowledge opens up everything, who people are. If the white people back east understood the Indian cultures better, maybe they wouldn’t be as fearful."
“They do this to us because they’reafraidof us?” Billy asked, his face twisted in disbelief.
Mia nodded. “Yes. Fear can make people do terrible things. Things they normally wouldn’t do.” She stood and gathered up the plates. “Now, you boys hurry and get dressed, brush your hair and teeth, and then take care of the horses, while Summer and I clean up in here.”
As the children got themselves ready for the day and completed their chores, Mia put the kettle on for coffee, which she badly needed. Knowing the boys' daily ritual included asking for a snack halfway through the morning, she prepared a plate of cookies she'd baked the day before and set them on the counter, covering them with a red and white checkered cloth so they wouldn’t dry out.
She poured herself a cup of coffee, allowing for a bit of cream and sugar, and sat in the rocking chair Josiah made for her. Summer was the first to return and dropped onto the couch then the boys ran inside, laughing and trying to trip each other. Mia smiled and pointed to the two empty spots next to Summer.
“All right, who wants to tell their story first?”
Elias held up his thin arm. “I will, Miss Mia.” He took a deep breath and lowered his arm. “My ma used to tell me about a black woman who was born as a slave. Her family worked for mean people who would loan her out to other families. Worse families. One day, she got tired of being hit and decided to run away. She made her way north, moving from house to house, getting help from people who didn’t like slavery. Well, she made it to safety, but she wasn’t happy cuz her family wasn’t safe. So, she went back time and again, helping them all as well as others escape north.
“Ma said Harriet was a fine woman who called herself a conductor on the Underground Railroad for eight years. Said she used to joke that she could honestly say that she never ran her train off the track and never lost a passenger. She was my ma’s friend.”
Mia nodded. “I’ve heard of her, Elias. Her name is Harriet Tubman. She is an amazing woman, to have achieved those feats of bravery in this day and age. That is definitely a story worthy of sharing. Thank you.”
She glanced at Summer and then Billy. “Next?”
“I guess I’ll go next,” Billy said.
“You sound so excited.” Mia chuckled.
He rolled his eyes but smiled. “The only story I remember is about a rabbit and the wildcat. I don’t know who told it to me, though.”
“That’s all right,” Mia said. “Just tell the story.”
“Well, there was this Rabbit who was hopping down a trail. I can’t remember what time of day it was, but I don’t think it matters. Anyway, he stops cuz he sees a paw print in the sand. He sticks his own foot next to it and admires his claws. The print didn’t have any, which he thought was funny.