He did not have to speak for me to know what he desired. He wanted the truth and it was that I could give him anything in the world, but the ever-lasting-personable-heart-breaking-truth. His eyes screamed pain, but the rest of his expression was composed of calm, relaxed muscles. He was breathing deeply and overwhelmingly unable to disguise a hint of anger, a smidge of regret. For this moment his life yielded, and he rested in a maroon armchair, big enough for two, it had once held us both in a few moments of a passionate embrace, and nothing more so; for our love was what felt centuries old, but morals remained just and pure. He was seated in the armchair so I could make no mistake that he wanted any company. I longed to sit beside him and to be his equal.1
Anybody walking in on this scene would have witnessed a troubled woman and what seemed to be a care-free man who had just finished his days run. White clouds of smoke erupted from his cigar, I could feel that his anger was about to break-free. Tears drew into my eyes, how could I tell him the truth? How could I not? Did he have to know that I am really a black woman? It would taint his race, and more importantly his family history, it would penetrate our children's lives with unjust criticism from all. Marriage is about love and truth and by not telling him so I am dishonoring our love. 2
He looked as if the armchair was weighing him down. I took a step closer and it was like he noticed me, for the first time...in the room.3
"George?" I lightly inquired, my voice was teetering on the edge. He finished his cigar, stood up, and beckoned me to sit in the armchair.4
"Ladies first," he insisted, and he knew I thought he was being too gentleman-like. I obeyed, not wanting any future contingencies. Normally he would have sat with me, but he pulled up an old wooden chair that he used to keep in the corner of his study.5
"Rena, I have been in doubt for some time about you. I can see that there is something you wish to tell me, but do not. For whatever reason do you not, my love? For you know that you are and nothing could ever change it. Oh, Rena, don't you see?"6
I silently contemplated what he was saying and peeked at his eyes to sense a pure of heart. I could see it, but I could see pain. This was it. I had to tell him. 7
"George, I want to tell you, if you'll listen to me, but you must listen to me before your wrath or before comment?"8
"Wrath? Whatever for would I have anything against you my Rena, anything!?! Never will you know the weight of my hands, of my touch, except in love."9
I sat before him, my eyes growing wide, knowing I might lose him forever. 10
"I am not exactly what you believe I am to be. I am that of a forbidden blood to your race, a black dot on a white canvas, even if my skin is white, black is invisible at night. I am not white even though as I appear, I am negro, nothing more and nothing less. I have been blessed, or burdened with being able to choose between two races. God made me appear white, but as it is I am not. Warwick is not my blood brother, he is white and pure and it's for sure, he was adopted by my mother. She is black and my father was white. Warwick's ideas and his life-style was everything I did not desire until he explained to me ignorance is opportunity. I trotted along, but very slowly behind him to get to where I am and it is only through lies that I have become successful. But, these lies are justice! George, it was meant to be this way, meant to happen, God gave me the grace of choosing and I don't care about race, I care about you. Love is blinding, color-blinding George, for your blood taints my race too and I could care less because we would be happily wed and our children would rest securely knowing their parents love each other. I am so white and you are as you are, nobody would know the true heritage of our children if I am to bear any. I have not lied to hurt you, but I can see it has and most certainly will faultier your decision, my dear George. I am so unashamedly sorry." I stopped talking and put my lips together firmly, waiting for a blow of any kind. It did not come. Moments passed and he stared at the floor. He stood up and beckoned me to do the same.11
"Leave," he commanded.12
"George? No, please talk to me, please?" I began questioning and crying and trying to reach out to him.13
"Rena, you have toyed with a poor young man's heart, your brother has done the same to me as well, white or black. You know this situation is most inopportune for me. It's unspeakable, if any of my family hears of it they will be utterly ashamed. ASHAMED RENA! I have been blinded, indeed by the love of a brewing-black witch. I have been in a trance from some sort of potion you forced down my throat."--14
"A witch? George I am nothing but what you see before you, only a little darker. I have made something of myself because I could. I have kept nothing else from you. I did it because I love you, and yet I know in love truth wills out. You said you would love me no matter what. If you can not love me because of this you have never loved me at all."15
"Then perhaps I have never loved you Ms. Rowena Walden, perhaps I never," he seemed to be contemplating, and went on with tears in his eyes, "I do love you, but I can no longer have you. I can not stain my family. I am a profit to them and this news would be too much to bear for their world. There may only be one Earth, but there are three worlds. Those who are white, those who are black, and those who are graced as neither and possibly the luckiest of all. I wish you every happiness, will give you money for the train back to Patesville, but nothing more. I do not want letters and I will not write. This is something to be painstakingly forgotten. My sentencing for us both still stands, no amount of love can make me marry you now. If you bear children, and I hope you one day do in marriage, I hope the father is of their race as to not create more problems. I no longer think the world of Warwick, and I still do of you, but it can not be helped. Go." he said as he handed me money.16
"I must reassure you," he began, "that I will keep your passing quiet, it will have to be as if I have never met you, we must inevitably move on."17
I knew his decision would be final and before he could say anything I moved closer to him. 18
"I love you George Tryon," I softly stated, tears flowing down my cheeks. I embraced him, lovingly kissed him, walked outside and out of his house forever. Before I left I noticed a picture of an older woman on his desk, thinking perhaps it was his mother. As I exited the gate I saw that woman open it, walk through it, and shut it. No longer would I attend to George's emotional needs, but it would be his mother once again. Would he mention me to her or would his simply let our love slip from his mind, had he loved me at all.19
I could do one of two things, proceed back to Patesville, or go back to Warwick. I chose Warwick. He could still provide me with much opportunity and I could care for my nephew.20
It was days I spent alone in my room, crying, wishing God had granted me the gift of white blood. I was being enticed to come out of my room with the promising of food or that my nephew was crying for me. I longed for George, pined for him, no amount of rushing emotion could bring him back. I was worse than dead to him. I am dead, and he above me, breathing strongly for now he will always see himself above me. Hours later I picked myself up and left my room. I cared for my nephew as thoughts and emotions raced through my head. I told Warwick goodbye before he left to go to the office. I gave the child to the head-nurse. He was not to see me, nobody was to see me.21
I left for Patesville, when I arrived home nobody was there. I inspected the house to make sure. How could I tell mother about what had happened? She was so happy. The whole neighborhood would find out and mother’s social circle, all she had, would cease to exist. There was no way out now, if I was worse than dead to George then so be it. Death would be my way to get closer to him, to be at his level of comprehension. I pulled the rope from my bag and decided the cedar tree would be best.22
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