"Fear no more the heat o' the sun, nor the furious winter's rages. Thou thy worldly task is done, home art gone and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, like chimney sweepers come to dust."

Pleasant looked up from the blue icing covered cake to the stage as Baldwin Monhollen stepped down to applause. She joined in as she watched him rejoin his mother and brothers at their table. The lunch was held in the lobby of a grand New York hotel in memory of the late Maurice Monhollen. Pleasant knew that on any other day she wouldn't have been able to afford to stand under the awning outside but as a teacher she had been specifically invited.

Margaret-Gay had chided her for looking too amazed at the furnishings warning her that such awe was a tell-tale sign that she was of humble means. It was easy for Margaret-Gay Singer who had stayed at the hotel before as one of the richest colored family's in New England. "Don't say ya'll", she had warned "And don't act shy". Such nuisances where what made Pleasant regret taking Margaret as her guest but her aunt and uncle had insisted and their good friend Alice was expecting.

"So Miss. Day," the man across from her said as the band took the stage and started to play. "You haven't told us yet where you come from?"

Pleasant looked between the man and his wife. She hadn't learned to stop being surprised that her drawl gave her away. "I am originally from Mississippi," she said hoping it would end there.

"Oh," the woman said. "Did you live there when the fire happened in 1888?"

Pleasant looked down at the cake on her plate then stole a glance at fancily dressed Margaret who looked annoyed. "Actually I was born in Jerusalem," she said and the couple were astonished. "I was a girl of twelve when the fire happened."

"So then you remember it," the man said. "I hear it was terrible."

"It was sir," Pleasant said.

"Won't you tell us?" the woman pressed.

Pleasant sighed inside. Without fail, every time someone heard she was from Mississippi they asked about the fire. She made a note to be vague next time and just say she was from the South. "It started late in the night," she began.

"The worst of times," the man said.

"It was summer," Pleasant said. "I remember that morning my sister and I had gone up to County Down to pick muscadine." She paused. "That's a grape. That was where the fire started. We were awoken by the screaming and the shouting. I remember going to the window and seeing a great orange curtain hanging from the sky."

"How did you get away when so many perished?" another man at the round table asked.

"My sister was put in a boat but I hid in the trees," Pleasant said. "People lived all along the river and that's what caused so many to perish." She looked down.

"My uncle worked at the lumberyard," Margaret-Gay said stealing the attention. "The flames swept through so quickly that he and the other men were forced to jump into the river. Every one of them drowned!"

"How terrible for Miss Day."

"Indeed," Margaret went on. "Some people tried to get across on the ferry but it caught fire sending them all to their graves."

"You speak as if you were there, Miss Singer" the woman said.

"Oh I wasn't there," Margaret said. "But I've heard the story enough times. Fortunately my aunt and cousins made it out alive."

Pleasant hadn't heard much of what Margaret-Gay had said. Her mind had gone back and gotten stuck in that terrible day. This of course brought up images of the Red Man. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her skirt and touched the plate card she had stashed there. "All was not lost," she said when she came back. She took out the card and passed it to the woman next to her. "That there is part of a collection called Urania's Mirror: Or a View of the Heavens. They depict the constellations. If you hold the card up to a light source it shines through and you can see the star pattern."

The woman passed the card to her husband. "What is it? Some sort of dog or something?"

"It is Ursa Major," Pleasant said. "It's the big bear that we call the big dipper or drinking guard. It points to Polaris the traveling star so I take it with me whenever I go out of town." The card circled the table until it came back to her.

"That is quiet the story you have there, Miss Day," the husband said. "Your students must love you as a teacher."

Pleasant smiled and put the card back in her pocket as she watched another guest go over to the Monhollen table and offer condolences and congratulations in the same breath. The Monhollen family was over many schools in New Hampshire and some other parts of New England.

"Mr. Monhollen knows not how lucky he was," the wife said. "Five sons to marry to rich men's daughters... They'll want for nothing until the sun turns gray. And handsome boys too. With four still eligible."

"I don't think I'd be so bold as to suggest one of our daughters," her husband whispered. "Old money like that means clandestine. In other words...too many skeletons in the closets."

His wife took out her fan. "I think they are a good family."

Margaret-Gay stiffed a laugh and leaned over to her cousin who was listening to the music. "It is as though they are cows at auction," she said with a grin. "I always wanted to see men paraded as we women are."

Pleasant shook her head distastefully. "Really, Margaret."

"Oh," Margaret gasped. "Don't tell me you haven't. The world is better for men, Pleasant and don't you forget it."

"I know that very well," Pleasant said turning back toward the stage only for Margaret to come up to her ear.

"No you don't," she said. "You just wait until one tries to marry you."

"I am not having this conversation," Pleasant whispered back.

"Well you should," Margaret said bitterly. "No one wants a negro schoolmarm." She leaned back in her chair and opened her fan.

Pleasant moved uneasy and turned her attention back to the stage.

The crowd stood and applauded as the band bowed then everyone prepared to depart. The lunch had been held as early as possible so the teachers could get home at respectable hours and not bring reproach on themselves.

/

"And why'd you have to talk about stars and constellations again?" Margaret-Gay asked as they stood in line at the coat closet.

Pleasant rolled her eyes as she stepped forward in line and readied her ticket. "They asked about where I was from. Anyways, I don't exactly have to answer to you."

"You should," Margaret-Gay said. "I am your cousin and am very concerned about your social life."

"I'm a teacher," Pleasant said giving the hotel employee a smile and handing him her ticket. "My occupation forbids a social life." The young man returned with her coat then turned to assist Margaret-Gay.

"Pity," the cousin said. "Smart as you are."

"Weren't you the one who said men don't like smart women?"

"No," Margaret said sheepishly. "I was the one who said men don't like women smarter than they are." She smiled at the boy who brought her mink coat and ermine stole followed by her hat and muff. "There are plenty of smart men in Natt Fristad."

"I wouldn't be interested," Pleasant said stepping aside so the line could disperse. "Mr. Monhollen called me to teach and that is what I intend to do. Children of tomorrow." She swept her hand then struggled to get into her coat.

Margaret sighed. "I still don't see why you can't have a little fun from time to time, cousin," she said. "You didn't even attend the Colombian Exposition five years ago—you weren't teaching then."

Pleasant grew frustrated trying to get her arm in her coat. "I didn't want to go to Chicago," she said. "Besides I had to take care of May."

"Excuses," Margaret said then smiled when the Monhollens came their way. "Espen, do you mind?" she handed him her coat and he helped her get into it. "You see, Pleasant how much easier things are when you aren't so tight laced?" she turned to Espen. "Thank you. And by the way, I didn't see you get up there and give a speech."

"Nor did you see Havelock," Espen said starting over to the line.

"Well I can expect that from him," Margaret said hitting him playfully. "Havelock hardly speaks to anyone."

Finally getting into her coat Pleasant started with the buttons. "It was such a fine event," she said.

Espen shrugged. "What can I say; Baldwin knows how to get things done."

Margaret giggled and Pleasant knew something was about to proceed from her mouth that she would deserve to be swatted for. "Little Pleasant is always saying something nice about Baldwin isn't she?"

Espen looked from Margaret-Gay to Pleasant. His blue eyes though having seen much of the world had still yet to lose their judgment of her. "Well you know what they say," he said. "My brother is a good man." He reached into his pocket and took out his ticket.

When Margaret turned to her Pleasant turned her back and occupied herself in putting on her gloves. She went over to a lion claw sofa and sat down in the window. It was snowing again. Mrs. Monhollen had said there was something magical about the snow fall in the city. Pleasant had to admit that it did feel enchanted. Wiping the condensation from the glass she smiled at a group of children running by.

"Are you ready to go, Miss Day?"

Pleasant turned to see Minas, the youngest son standing over her. He was the family blond and the only one married.

"Yes," she said getting to her feet. The two took up the rear, following Baldwin and Mrs. Monhollen. Margaret-Gay who had attached herself to Espen and was laughing at one of his jokes, her pompous fur hat bouncing back and forth. "I reckon you are excited to get back to Alice," Pleasant said to take her mind off of her inappropriate cousin.

"And my practice," Minas said. "My uncle says I must work on my bedside manners."

"Learning is never done," Pleasant said.

"Teachers," Minas scoffed. "Baldwin was always lording it over me. I'm glad he'll no longer be schoolmaster."

"I suppose," Pleasant said.

"His replacement comes highly recommended," Minas said. "If not then I'm afraid, Miss Day that you will be teaching boys."

"I shudder to think so," Pleasant said as they came to a stop before some coaches.

"Asmund will be returning," Minas said as he watched Espen help a still laughing Margaret into the coach with his mother. "That will take Espen out of the store...like he wants. The store doesn't give him enough reckless time. And I hear your sister will be coming to stay."

"That is correct," Pleasant said.

Baldwin approached them. "Miss Day, you're in with my mother and your cousin," he said. "We'll see you at the station."

"Thank you sir," Pleasant said. She climbed into the coach and took the seat next to Margaret. Soon they were off through the shoveled streets heading towards the station.

"I hope everything gets to the train safely," Margaret said as they watched the city go by.

"You shouldn't have packed a closet for only a few days," Pleasant said. "You didn't even have time to go to the city."

Margaret smiled. "That's what you think," she said enjoying the surprise that came to Pleasant's face.

"I have to say it was a pleasure to travel with you ladies," Mrs. Monhollen said. "It was nice to have young women along."

Pleasant smiled at the woman and stole a glance at her cousin who mouthed Espen and grinned. "If I had to choose a traveling companion it would be you, Mrs. Monhollen," she said, trying to ignore Margaret-Gay. She couldn't wait to get back to New Hampshire where she didn't have to put up with her antics. She'd be in her own little cottage on Heliotrope Row.

/

Pleasant starred at the ceiling as the train passed over the rails in the night. It wouldn't take them long to reach New Hampshire. Not as long as it had taken her to reach New Hampshire from Mississippi.

She rolled over and instead looked at the wall. To everyone else her feelings were obvious and she was coping well but at night thoughts of what happened at Greene's estate haunted her. The Red Man from the woods had become something else. He had become the same person who pulled her from the ice. Unable to sleep she climbed down from the bunk careful not to wake Margaret-Gay.

She hadn't bothered to undress so slipping out of the sleeping car was easy. She nodded to a porter she passed in the hall and went into the dining car. A few passengers mingled over what remained of their dinner and she took a seat by the window watching the night snow fly by. Slowly images of the past began to materialize. Flurry children laughed as they raced and played over blooming hills. Someone had put their horses in the pasture and the summer birds were singing. The snow swirled and there was her home, getting closer as she raced towards it into her father's arms.

"Ma'am?"

Pleasant jumped and turned away from the window. A waiter was standing next to her offering a napkin. "Thank you," she said dabbing her tears away. "Thank you."

The waiter nodded and collected a tray from another table before walking away. Pleasant rested her hands on her lap and felt the stiffness of the card in her pocket. Pulling it out she looked down at the long tailed bear.

Finding it had filled her with such a grand hope that everything would be all right. She had made a promise to her mother that she would not look back. That was what she tried to do every time she thought of the day at Greene's Estate; not look back.