Chapter 26: The Underground
Clara was waiting for them. “Everyone’s getting ready.”
“Good,” Adelaide said. “Can you help these two?”
“Yeah,” said Clara, “I’ll take care of these guys.”
“Get me my jumpsuit,” Sammy said, and the women laughed.
They followed Adelaide to her caravan and found Matt there. Adelaide nodded to him and said, “I’ll have the letters ready in a minute.” She went in her house.
Matt turned to Clara. “Be careful,” he said.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Clara said. As she spoke, something about her changed. Naomi thought she knew what that look meant.
“Oh, but I do,” Matt said, and he went up the steps, closing the door behind him.
Clara turned back to Naomi and Sammy, who were starting to get a little nervous. “Come on, guys,” she said, as she led them past Adelaide’s house. “My mom didn’t freak you out, did she?”
Naomi said, “A little.”
“She’s a little intense,” Sammy said. “Kind of like my mom.”
“Well,” said Clara, “Our mothers used to know a different life. A better one. So for them, all they want is to have that back.”
“Yeah,” Sammy said.
“You didn’t believe in them, did you?” Clara said.
“The horses?” Sammy said.
“Yeah,” Clara said.
“I guess I always did, I just didn’t want to get my hopes up.”
“Well, our mothers have their hopes up,” Clara said. “And now, it’s our job not to disappoint them.”
“Do you think this will work?” Naomi said.
Gypsies were putting up a tent as big as the one they had at the paste fair in the town square every year. “Yeah,” Clara said. “I think it’ll work.” She paused. “But it’s okay if it doesn’t. The point is to fight. As long as we do that, we’re being true. The problem with this town is that it is numb.”
“They’ve been pastified,” Naomi said.
“They have,” Clara said, “but still, we are risking our lives to fight against the paste company, and they’re sitting at home eating paste and watching TV.”
Sammy said, “Yeah,” and nodded in agreement.
Clara stopped at an ornate caravan, larger than the others. Black shutters flanked the portholes, and a levered wooden hatch scissored upward like an accordion, with canvas connecting the hatch to the body below. Along the canvas, horses danced in a great field filled with caravans.
“This is mine,” Clara said.
“It’s beautiful,” Naomi said.
The inside was much bigger than Adelaide’s caravan, and tidy. A couch dominated the far room. There was a table, a diner booth, and some benches built into the walls, which were painted with scenes from Endless Ranches.
“Who did all these?” Sammy asked.
“I did,” Clara said.
Sammy pointed to the painting. “This is the Farmer’s Market,” he said, “but it looks fun.”
Naomi looked. All kinds of people filled Farmer’s Market. There were farmers behind the booths, talking to browsing townsfolk. Kids played a game of marbles in the dirt. In the corner stood a large white horse, its foot cradled in the hand of a gypsy. The man held a hammer in his other hand. He was tacking a horseshoe onto the animal’s hoof. That’s how it’s done, thought Naomi. High in the background, the Farmer flag waved atop the flagpole.
“When was this?” Sammy asked.
“A long time ago,” Clara said. “Before I was born.”
“How?” Naomi asked.
“From pictures my mom has, and some from imagination,” Clara said.
“It’s great,” Sammy said, though Naomi thought it was better than great. On the other wall, horses stood behind a wooden fence, next to a wooden building. Naomi recognized it from the video screen in the white people’s dorm. It was her father’s paddock. “Where is this?” Naomi asked.
Clara said, “It’s nowhere now. But it used to be right between town and one of the northern neighborhoods.” Clara went to the benches and opened one. From inside she took a stack of folded jumpsuits.
“Here,” Clara said.
Sammy flicked his jumpsuit open and stepped in. “I’m beginning to like these,” he said. “Don’t have to think about what I’m going to wear.”
The suit billowed around him.
“You’re not fat enough,” Clara said. “Oh well. I guess they’ll catch you and we’ll have one less skinny farmer.”
“Really?” Naomi said.
“No,” Clara said. “They won’t even notice.”
“Do we make our faces white?” Sammy asked.
“You don’t like being white?” Clara said.
“Not really,” said Sammy.
“But you were so pretty,” Clara said. “I’m going with you to the exit, near the mansion. From there, you’re going directly inside, so you’ll need to have makeup on. While you infiltrate the mansion, I’ll join the others in the paste factory.”
Clara went back in the bench and pulled out a black box that Naomi knew contained the makeup.
Clara came over, and Naomi sat in the booth. Clara picked out a greasy round sponge. “Close your eyes,” Clara said. Naomi closed them, and Clara started spreading the makeup on her face.
“Won’t somebody try to stop us?” Sammy asked.
Clara said, “There will be some white people around, but you should go unnoticed with your disguise. If you encounter any non-white people, just don’t talk to them. Get inside and find the landing that goes to the field. It will be in the back of the house. Take the stairs down to the horse pen.”
Naomi said, “Then it happens.”
“What happens?” Clara said.
“Exactly,” said Naomi, opening her eyes and looking into Clara’s face.
“You’ll do fine.” To Sammy Clara said, “Your turn.” Naomi hopped up, and Sammy replaced her on the seat. He shut his eyes and Clara began smearing his face. “Go in that bench and pull out the caps.”
“Caps?” Naomi said.
“Hats. You know, for your head. We’re not going to wear mops.”
The bench was cluttered with paints in all kinds of colors—blue, green, red, brown, black, white. There were a handful of brushes and some rolls of paper. “These are your paints,” Naomi said.
“Yeah,” said Clara. “Have you ever painted?”
“No,” Naomi said.
“When this is all over, I can teach you,” Clara said.
All sorts of clothes and blankets and whatnot were thrown in next to the paint. Naomi had to dig through until she came up with three white caps that looked like breakpaste bowls. Clara finished Sammy’s face.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“Totally boring,” Naomi said.
“That’s what we’re going for,” said Clara. She took a cap from Naomi, slapping it on Sammy’s head. “When you get settled with the horses, you’re going to need to get them to one of the chutes. We’ll be inside the factory, ready for you.”
“What then?” Naomi said.
“Then we get them out.” Clara put makeup on herself. When she finished, she capped the box and set it on the table. “Time to meet the others,” she said.
If Naomi hadn’t known better, she would have thought Gypsy Grove had been infiltrated by white people. They came out of caravans and walked the alleys. Clara led Naomi and Sammy into the procession, and soon they were under the sunlit windows like a bunch of moths. Naomi realized the light was changing from white to yellow: the sun must be going down.
Sammy put his hand on her arm. “You okay?” he said.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Nervous?” he said.
That hardly seemed the word for it. There was tightness in her belly like a knotted shoelace. “Yeah,” she said.
“Me too,” he said, and gave a weak smile.
A man
nearby said, “You’re Naomi.”
“Yes,” Naomi answered.
The man said, “Here she is.”
“We’ve heard so much about you,” someone else called out.
Soon more and more people were saying hi to her, taking her hand, hugging her. They even greeted Sammy, surrounding him like a cloud of gnats, asking how he blew up the turbine. Before she could even think about it, her nervousness vanished, washed away by the attention.
Clara called out, “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” the people shouted. They all puffed up like doves ruffling their feathers. Someone took out an instrument that Naomi instantly figured out was the lute. He strummed it and the crowd sang:
Come all you tramps and wandering folk of the field
That work the countryside scrambling for your meals.
I’ll tell you a roving tale of the journeys I undertake
The work of the horse, the hammer, and the rake.
Oft while traveling in the Texas sun, sweating in the road
My feet an achy mess and face as bloated as a toad,
I dream of Endless Ranches, my days of childhood abound
Vegetables, fruits, and bread we ate, honey by the pound.
I’ve done more than my share of banging nails in horse hoofs,
Tinkering with copper pots, and mending tin roofs.
Seen sunrise in the desert, the Gulf lashed with rain
Been all over Texas but Endless Ranches calls me home again.
I'm happy in the summer beneath the Texas sky
Not caring in the morning about night where I’ll lie
In a barn with a horse nearby, spread out in the hay
When I return to Endless Ranches, I’ll be happy that day.
The song ended and the gypsies pumped their fists and cheered.
Clara called out, “Onward gypsies! Come on!” They started moving down a dark hallway lit by lanterns.
Clara fell into step beside Sammy and Naomi. “This group will take you just outside the governor’s mansion, then we’ll head into the factory. The others are already headed to their positions.”
The hallway turned at strange angles. They walked for a long time, maybe ten minutes. Naomi did not want time to move at all. Her nerves had returned.
The people stopped. One of them said, “We’re here.”
“Come on,” Clara said. Naomi did not see the stairway until she was on the first step. It seemed just like the staircase Adelaide had taken them up, but this time Naomi didn’t think she would get to chat in the shade of a big old tree.
With every step, Naomi’s heart felt like it was going to explode. And if she felt like this now—like every moment was an ocean of darkness—then how would she survive even to the next minute, the next second, once she was in the mansion? She breathed in and her lungs filled with air, but it was like breathing that dark ocean’s water. She gulped, and thought she would scream. But Sammy’s hand reached out and caught her hand.
“Calm down,” he said.
His simple words worked magic on her. She held on to him as if he were the only thing keeping her anchored in this scary world. Sammy moved ahead, pulling her forward like a toy boat on a string. She let herself be tugged, until they reached the field at the top of the stairs and the sky above cracked like dawn over the dark sea, and Naomi stood in the open evening air.
Behind her Clara said, “You ready?”
A couple of gypsies stuck out of the hole, and Naomi imagined they looked like sprouted mushrooms from above. Naomi couldn’t help herself and laughed. Her heart settled. She was ready, and she nodded. “You know the plan,” Clara reminded her. Naomi nodded again. She looked at the mansion standing there like a shoebox, and she saw the horses in the pen behind it.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Good luck,” Clara said, hugging each of them in turn. She let go of Naomi. Naomi felt inside her pocket, finding the carved horse. She offered it to Clara. “Take this,” Naomi said. “I don’t think I’ll need it any more. I’m about to have the real thing.” Clara took it from her, and rubbed the carved wood in her hand, as if for good luck.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Okay,” Naomi said. She heard Sammy shuffle to her side, and did not look back. In a minute they were standing in front of the bone white stairs that lead to the mansion’s front door. Naomi climbed. She took the doorknob, twisted, pushed. “Here goes,” she said, making big eyes at Sammy, and stepped in.