Love Knows No Color Pt. 16

Nora stared at Shavonda. "No, I did not," she replied.

"Von was raised right," I continued. "She goes to church regularly, and I go with her. And she's smart, probably smarter than I am. She's beautiful as well. Did you know she outearned me by about 50 percent last year? And I have a good job. This is the person you think unworthy of your respect."

"I told you not to mess with them," Mom said.

"What church do you belong to?" Nora asked Shavonda.

"Bethel AME," Shavonda replied.

"What's AME? Never heard of it," Nora asked.

"It's a Methodist church," I replied. "AME means African Methodist Episcopal. They're good people. They embraced me with open arms when I started attending."

Nora was silent. I knew that, even though it probably would make no difference to Nora, we were demolishing her stereotypes one at a time. And it felt good.

With a knock on the door, Kenny arrived with Edie on his arm. They'd come for breakfast before we headed off into the misty mountains. We all ate breakfast, engaging in lively conversation. The kids were still asleep, and Mom promised to look after them while we were gone. We loaded Miracle into the Jeep, locking the baby carrier into its carseat base, then headed off into the rainy morning. In addition to the diaper bag, Shavonda had brought along a blue denim tote bag. Kenny was curious about its contents, and Shavonda showed him the binoculars, and the field guide to birds of the eastern United States. "I don't know how many species I'll see today," she said, "but there are a lot of them here that I never see in Pittsburgh."

"Has Jason had you up to Hanging Rock?" Kenny asked her.

"No, what's up there?" Shavonda asked.

"There is an old fire cabin up there. It's on top of the mountain above the farm." Kenny replied. "During the autumn, raptors migrate through there. It's a little bit of a hike, but you can see hawks and eagles up there."

"We can't go up there today," I replied, "Because it's all in clouds. But maybe if you want to go early tomorrow morning we could make the hike, if the weather clears. It's only about a mile off the road."

Kenny had brought his ham radio, which he'd programmed to receive railroad frequencies, and the magnetic mount rooftop antenna that gave the radio excellent reception, even in these tall mountains. We could hear the occasional crackle of a distant radio transmission as the trains communicated with each other and the dispatcher.

The clouds covered the tops of the mountain as we followed the road deeper into the mountains. All of the 4000 footers were cloud covered, and many of the lower ridgetops were shrouded as well. A couple of times I stopped and took a photo of a particularly beautiful scene. We headed upward through the narrow gap the railroad had tunneled under. Edie noticed a brick building off to the right at the very top of the gap, and asked what it was. "That's the ventilation fans for the tunnel," Kenny told her. "They sit on top of a shaft that goes down to the main tunnel. The fans suck all the smoke from passing trains up through the shaft, and blow it out the top of the building, which also serves as a smokestack. If there were a train in the tunnel, you'd see the smoke billowing out the top of the building."

Our first stop was KR, at the end of the tunnel. We'd no sooner gotten there than we heard the rumble of diesels moving fast in the tunnel. When they popped out of the tunnel, moving about 40 mph, we counted six locomotives running light without cars. They quickly passed us and disappeared around the distant curve and out of sight. A distant airhorn was heard as they blew for a road crossing. "That was the zigzag heading back for another coal train," Kenny told us.

"We saw that train yesterday when we were up here," Shavonda said. "He was stopped, and let us come up on the engine."

We waited for a little while, the raindrops drumming on the roof, to see if there were any more trains close by. But the signals stayed red, and we found our way back to the paved road and continued on down the mountain. The first few miles were in a pastoral valley, with plenty of cows out grazing in the rain.

"Dispatcher to WC13, over," crackled the radio.

"Sounds like we got something," Kenny said.

"WC13, over."

"Ease on down to Foster," the dispatcher said, "I've got a WC7 to run around you. As soon as he clears Foster, you'll follow him down the mountain."

This was getting interesting. If we'd have stayed at KR we might have gotten two trains cresting the mountain side by side.

"Dispatcher to WC7, did you copy that?"

"This is WC7, we copy. I assume we're going from track 2 to 1 at Foster?"

"Roger that, WC7. 2 to 1 at Foster. Give me a good move if you can. I got 16 coming at you. He's just coming into Norcross now. Don't delay him." Norcross was at the very bottom of the mountain, and 16 was heading straight for the two other trains, in the opposite direction, most likely on track 2.

"Where's Foster?" I asked Kenny. "It sounds like that's the place to be."

"It's about 3 miles further. It sits way up on the mountainside, between two tunnels. You'll like it."

Edie sat in the back with Shavonda, the baby between them, and it appeared she was enjoying the scenery as much as Shavonda. The valley narrowed, and the road and creek dropped in elevation much more rapidly than the railroad, which was soon high on the mountainside to the left. We continued winding down the narrow valley, tree covered mountains rising steeply on either side of us. The rain appeared to have stopped, at least temporarily, which was good.

"Turn left here," Kenny said, as we came to a rutted dirt road that climbed the mountainside. I was glad we had my Jeep, because I'd have had second thoughts about taking Shavonda's Cruze up the rough road. We followed it up the steep mountainside, hoping we wouldn't meet anybody on the blind curves. If we did, somebody was going to have to back up, with a steep hillside rising on the left and an equally steep dropoff to the creek on the right. Eventually, we emerged from the forest at the railroad tracks. As Kenny had described, Foster sat on about a half mile straightaway with a tunnel at each end. Signals bracketed a set of double crossovers that allowed trains to move from track to track. And as Kenny had also said, it was a beautiful, peaceful place. We instantly fell in love with it, perched high on a rain soaked mountainside with the mist swirling around the peaks above us.

Kenny had a video camera in his camera bag, along with a tripod, and he set them up as we waited. "MY new toy," he said. Soon we could hear the whine of Dynamic brakes as the first train popped out of the upper tunnel, and threaded its way through the crossover switches, weaving from track to track. As soon as it had passed, the second one appeared, creeping out of the tunnel up to a stop signal. The dispatcher lined the crossover switches for the train, and gave him a signal, and he whined by on his way down the mountain, a hundred or so cars later, helper locomotives marked the rear of this train, adding their dynamic braking power to hold the heavy train back. With the first two trains gone, we listened in the mist to them descending the mountain grade. Due to the way the railroad was laid out, it meandered along the mountainsides. Just beyond the lower tunnel was a horseshoe curve where the line doubled back on itself. We could hear the trains as they passed below this curve, and soon heard the 16 climbing the mountain at full throttle. Soon, it popped out of the lower tunnel, doing about 35-40 mph. The mountain was having little effect on the overpowered, short intermodal train and it thundered past, quickly disappearing into the upper tunnel. Foster was quiet once again.

Shavonda had pulled out her binoculars, and was scanning the trees in search of a bird she'd heard. She pointed it out to Edie, and handed her the binoculars. "Woodpecker," she said to me. "In that tree right above the signal."

We continued on down the mountain, stopping at the upper Horseshoe curve, which featured a tall trestle in the middle where the railroad hopped across the valley as it doubled back on itself. Driving further down the valley past limestone quarries, we eventually came to the lower Horseshoe at the very bottom of the climb, just before the bridge over the New River. By this time, Miracle needed fed, and Shavonda breastfed her in the Jeep with Edie as Kenny and I waited outside.

"I'm glad I got the chance to talk to you without the ladies," he said. "I'm in a bit of a bind."

"What's up?" I asked, concerned.

"Edie is tired of the long distance relationship and wants us to live closer together." He replied. "Problem is, I've got ten years in with the state of Virginia, and a pension. She has her own career up north. One of us has got to sacrifice, but which one is the question. She could move in with me, but I don't know that she'd be able to find a good job here. If I move to Pittsburgh, I have to give up my pension."

"I can't really tell you what to do," I told him. "But we have room at our house. You could crash there until you get on your feet, if you decide to move to Pittsburgh. I know Edie's apartment is tiny, and you'd want more room. If you decide to move Edie down here, I'll drive the moving van for her, since I am comfortable driving big vehicles. We'll help you in any way we can, but the choice is yours."

A short time later, we caught a zigzag train starting up the mountain, and decided to follow it home. The combination of a heavy coal train, made even heavier by the rain soaking into the coal, and the steep mountain grade had the train down to about ten mph by the time the rear end roared past. We jumped ahead of it to the upper horseshoe, watching it wrap itself around the curve. It was interesting to be surrounded on three sides by the slow moving train as it rumbled across the trestle and squealed around the curve with the steep slope of the mountains rising into the mist above it. "Wow," Shavonda said. "That's really something. I hope you got some good pictures."

"Kenny," I asked, "Can we still drive to the iron bridge between our pastures?"

"I think so," he replied. "But won't Mr. Craig have something to say about that?"

"He better not," I said. "He only leases the land. We are the family of the landowner, and as long as we don't let his cows loose, he really doesn't have anything to say about it." I turned to Shavonda. "Von, baby. Want to get this train coming past the iron bridge I took you to yesterday? After that, we'll go home for lunch, and we'll be there when your parents arrive."

"I'd like that," she said. "But first, can we beat him to KR? I want to see if my buddy is running this one."

And so, we headed for KR, where we listened to the train climbing up the valley for about a half hour before he finally poked around the corner. And yes, our friend Scott was out working the zigzags again. He gave us a big wave as he went past. With the battle won, the train picked up a little bit of speed as it crept over the summit and into the tunnel. As soon as the helpers had passed, we hightailed it back to the main road, and made a beeline for our pastures and the iron bridge. And there, I got my favorite photo of the entire trip. I shot Shavonda and Edie from the back, leaning on the bridge railing as the coal cars thundered below.

Returning to the house, we cooked up some hamburger meat we found thawing in the refrigerator, poured ourselves each a tall glass of Kool aid, and headed out to the back porch where Mom, and Grandma sat with Nora. Sally had also returned, as I expected she would. She didn't live far away, and generally she wanted to spend as much time with her big brother as possible.

As we'd come to expect, Nora had something to say. Shavonda was wrapped in the baby sling, and had a blanket over the baby as Miracle nursed yet again. The little one was hungry today. Must have been the rainy day. "I told you she was uncouth. Nursing that baby where everybody can see her."

"Why should I be ashamed to feed my baby?" Shavonda asked pointedly. "Would you object if I fed her the exact same milk from a bottle?" By this time, Nora's comments no longer bothered us, and we were doing things specifically to get a rise out of her, like kissing in front of her.

"That would be much better," Nora replied.

"But the container wouldn't be as pretty," Shavonda laughed, just to watch Nora turn red yet again. This was getting to be fun.

"Public breastfeeding," Nora muttered. "Sex in the shower. What's this world coming to? I bet she even lets Jason sodomize her too."

"That's none of your business," Shavonda replied. "But I will say Jason doesn't do ANYthing to me that I don't want him to." Mom and Sally looked at Shavonda, wondering what was coming next. They could barely contain their laughter. "Except when he touches that spot on my inner thigh. Jason I'ma get you for that. Boy, you know what that does to me. I'ma get you good." Everybody laughed as Nora squirmed. Even Grandma cracked a smile.

"What spot is that?" Kenny asked.

"Right where her butt cheek meets her inner thigh," I said. "Every time I massage that spot, it sends her over the edge. You know you love it boo."

"Damn right. But I'ma still get you good." Nora looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. We all watched her, laughing at her reaction.

"Nora," Mom said, "If you haven't figured it out by now, those kids are going to torture you until you leave them alone." She laughed. "Seriously, though. Nora, you're a fool. You are upset about Jason and Shavonda race mixing. But you forget I married a Seneca. And you didn't have anything bad to say about that. And Jason, he looks more Indian than any of Ed's family. He got all the traits. So basically, you are telling a mixed-race boy, and his wife, that mixing races is wrong. No wonder they're riding your ass now."

"That's different," Nora said. "He's Indian. She's, she's..."

"African American." Shavonda finished Nora's sentence for her. "And damn proud of it. I wouldn't want to be anything else. And Jason wouldn't want me to be anything else either, would you, Jason?"

"Nope. I love you just the way you are. And anybody don't like it can pound salt."

"Seriously, Aunt Nora," Shavonda pronounced the word as 'ahnt' rather than 'ant' the way we did. "Mama's coming here soon. We joke around with you and push your buttons, but Mama don't play that. She tear you apart if you say that stuff in front of her. She ain't got time for fools. So, my advice to you is, can it. Trust, you don't want to go there with her." Nora was silent. "You treat her with the respect and dignity she deserves, and she'll invite you to her house for the weekend. You don't and you'll wish you were burning in hell cause it'd hurt less." She turned to me. "Jason, I'm going out on the front porch to wait for mama. You coming?"

I followed her, but first we went upstairs to retrieve the baby carrier, and put Miracle down for a while. Shavonda also grabbed her hair brush. I grabbed the carrier and took Miracle out to the front porch, where Edie and Kenny were sitting, talking. Shavonda was right behind me. She sat down in one of the porch chairs. "Sit," she said, motioning to the floor in front of her. I sat, my back between her legs and let her brush out my hair.

"She's got you well trained," Kenny said.

"Yes, but she loves to play in my hair. You should let Edie do the same." I enjoyed when Shavonda brushed out my hair, and braided my tail. It beat the hell out of using hair bands, and to be honest, Shavonda loved my hair as much as I loved hers.

We sat on the porch, discussing music, as we awaited Althea's arrival. On our road trip, Kenny had heard a couple of songs he wanted to try, Footprints by Porcupine Tree was one. "Your dad will get off on the Beatles references in the song, and I love the guitar part," he said. "Jason, do you have one you'd like to try?"

"Refugees, by Van Der Graaf Generator. Sorry, Kenny, not much guitar there, but I think Shavonda and I could do that one justice. But I do agree with your choice as well. Ladies, you have any suggestions?"

They didn't, at least not at the moment. It was okay though. We had two songs we wanted to try and learn today. More would probably overwhelm us.

Nora had ambled out onto the porch. "Shavonda," she said. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Depends on what you do with the answer," Shavonda replied warily. "If you promise me you won't use my answer against me I'll answer anything you ask."

Kenny got up. "Ummmm, I think me and Edie are going to move the amps and instruments back out on the porch, before it gets crowded." He motioned to Edie to follow him. I think they sensed Nora wanted a private talk, away from the rest of the family.

The sun had finally broken through the clouds, and we sat in the shade of the porch, watching the mist burn off the mountains to the east. This time of day, the front porch was in shade, but the day was warm enough it didn't matter. Nora spoke. "Von, why did you marry a white man?"

Shavonda rolled her eyes at Nora, she was a bit perturbed by the question. But she'd promised Nora an answer. "I didn't marry a white man," she said, "I married Jason, who just happens to be white. That's the short answer. The long answer is that the man God sent into my life, to be my soulmate, is Jason. I married my best friend, the one who always had my back through some tough times. There's nobody in the world I'd rather be with."

Nora nodded her head, then looked at me. "Jason," she started, then did a double take. Shavonda had finished braiding my hair. "You DO look like an Indian with that braid." She stared a minute, then recovered and said, "Jason, same question. Why did you marry a black girl?"

"Von and I have known each other for well over two years. We were very good friend long before we ever met," I thoughtfully explained. "I never considered dating her, because I didn't think she'd be interested. But she told me it would be a shame to lose my queen. That's when I knew she had feelings for me. So, we met, we clicked, and we've been together ever since. I won't lie to you and say I am not attracted to her dark exotic look. Because I am. But the main reason I married her is that it would have been a shame to let her get away. You know as well as I do that if Von were white we wouldn't even be having this conversation." I got up and headed for the door. "Wait here. I want to show you something."

I walked upstairs to the bedroom and retrieved Shavonda's laptop from its case, then brought it downstairs. Opening it, I fired it up and found the video file I wanted. "I want you to watch this. This is what you missed." I played our wedding video for Nora. "This is what true love looks like." On the screen, I stood at the altar with rose in hand while Shavonda made her way down the aisle on James' arm. She took her place beside me. I handed her the rose. Shavonda broke the stem off, handing it to Tamika, then placed the rose in her curls. "Did you know that moment was totally unrehearsed? My friend bought me that rose, and told me to give it to her. Nobody knew what her reaction would be. Now that's simply beautiful. And that's what our love is about, the little spontaneous moments like that."

Nora sat still. I looked at her. "I don't expect you to understand why we did what we did. I don't expect you to even like us. Really, it's irrelevant. The only person who I care what they think of our marriage is sitting right her with me now." I reached out and took Shavonda's hand in mine. "People are either going to love us or hate us. As long as we love each other none of that matters. We both knew that we were going to piss people off simply by being together. But for us, it's a lot better than being apart, because neither of us is whole without the other. By the way, you can take what you've seen here the past two days, and tell the whole Duncan clan about it. I know you will. And if they don't like us, so what? They're the ones missing out on their great granddaughter. You won't stop us. We made our commitment. Let no man put asunder."