time.â
âMind if I tag along?â
âOf course not. It will save me having to run after any bothersome ones.â
âBy making me run after them instead?â laughed Micah.
âIf youâre feeling well enough to run across the field just now, you can chase down a cow!â
âThanks a lot!â he laughed.
We fell into step together.
âWhere are they?â he asked.
âIn the field yonderâjust past those trees,â I said. âWe move them from field to field as the grassgrows. As they eat one field down, we move them to the next.â
âIt sounds like a lot of work.â
âKeeping milk cows is never-ending work, in more ways than milking them twice a day. But we could all live off the milk from them, so how can we complain? Itâs how we feed ourselves.â
âDo you sell any of the milk?â
âWe thought about it, but lately so many people are angry at us and especially at my papa and Uncle Ward for what weâre doing here, that we donât think many would buy from us.â
âAngry . . . why?â
âBecause of blacks and whites together,â I said. âThey think weâI mean me and Josepha and Henry and Jeremiah and Emmaâus coloredsâthey think weâre uppity and donât know our place. But I think they hate Uncle Ward and Papa even more for treating us like equals.â
âIt is the most remarkable place Iâve ever seen,â said Micah.
âI suppose Iâm used to it by now,â I said. âWe all treat each other normal, like people ought to be treated. But maybe it is unusualâlike you say.â
âBelieve me, it is. I doubt thereâs another plantation like this in the whole country.â
âI am very glad you found your way here,â I said.
âI hardly found my way,â laughed Micah. âI believe I was led here. But either wayâI am more grateful than I can sayâboth to God for guidingmy steps, and to you all for opening yourselves to me the way you have. I feel like Iâve known you all for years.â
âAre youââ I began, âI mean . . . you mentioned God leading you here. I just wondered . . .â I hesitated.
âWhat?â he asked.
âIâm not sure how to say it,â I said, smiling a little awkwardly.
âAm I a Christian, you mean? Is that what you wanted to ask?â
âI guess thatâs something like it,â I said.
âYes, I am,â Micah answered. âI tryâthough not as successfully as I would likeâto order my ways by what I think God would have me do, and to follow the example of Jesus Christ as much as I can.â
âJeremiah told me a little about some of the things you and he talked about. I hope you donât mind.â
âOf course not,â smiled Micah. âMy life is an open book. If anyone finds anything useful from it, they are welcome to it. I have nothing to hide.â
âThatâs probably as unusual a thing as you say Rosewood is.â
Micah laughed. âIâm sure youâre right. Nevertheless, it is how I try to live. How else can people really know one another and love one another than by being open and honest and transparent?â
Iâd never heard a man talk like Micah Duff! To imagine that a black man who wasnât much olderthan me could know so much and speak with such confidence and wisdom . . . I found myself almost in awe of him!
We were walking close together now and had entered a small grove of trees between the fields. It was quiet and peaceful and we were in no hurry. It felt good to talk and share with someone who seemed to understand everything, and even seemed to know what I was thinking as I tried to say it.
âKatie and I, after we got together here,â I said, âwe were so young and alone and afraid, and we knew we were in a desperate situation. We tried to talk to God and do