The Sapphire Box (2)
"These girls at my school--they talked bad about my cartoons. They ripped them up, and threw them around the classroom today. They said kind of the same thing that this magazine said." Tears began flowing down Pearla's face after she had finished. She went and pulled some Kleenex from the box on her lamp table. As she wiped her face, Donny spoke again. "Oh come on. You're not gonna start that "Niagara Falls" waterworks on me with those tears now? Are you?" Donny paused and thought of something, then continued. "Look, you might remember that most of your ancestors were cartoonists and sketch artists, too." "Yeah, I do remember. My mother told me that most of their sketches are in a chest in the attic. I bet they never got teased about their work." � "You sure 'bout that, Pearla?" Pearla shook her head back and forth. "Well, maybe not. I don't know. You know more than I do, Donny." CHAPTER 3 "Tell you what I'll do," said Donny. "I'm gonna show you on my visual projector exactly how things were for your ancestors who were artists." From between Donny's eyes protruded a colorless beam. It extended out toward the foot of Pearla's bed where she sat. Then the beam enlarged into a circular shape. Pearla rose up to close the blinds and pull down the shades for a better view. She returned to her bed, sat, and looked inside the beam and saw a multitude of African natives being shoved off a large ship. Some of them were being whipped for no apparent reason. They were divided into many groups and placed in different horse carriages to the homes of their slave masters. The last group had been transported to to a white, three floor mansion with more than thirty bedrooms. Pearla watched a Caucasian leading this particular group of natives off the back of a carriage with chains on their legs and wrists to their slave master at the door. Pearla shuddered as she watched. "I don't understand what's going on." "This is close to the end of the 1600s, when a lot of Africans were still being forced off their continents and brought to the southern colonies in the soon-to-be America. That man you see in the front of the line with the natives is your ancestor Tubali'--" "Right, I read his journal about you," Pearla interjected. "That man standing at the door with the gray hair and beard must be Emile Taylor." "Um-hm," Donny mumbled. "He was the nicest master Tubali' ever had." "That's what Tubali' said in his journal, too, Donny. By the way, could Tubali' draw real good?" "You bet he could.Let me fast-forward a little, and we'll get around to that soon, " Donny said. Pearla watched everybody and everything in Donny's projector beam move by rapidly. She realized it was no different from how fast everything moves when she's fast-forwarding on her VCR. Donny stopped the fast-forwarding and continued the projection. "Now this is ten years later when Tubali' and his family are working diligently on one of the plantations. This was one of the hottest days because it was ninety-five degrees. There were supposed to have been twenty slaves helping him and his family on this plantation. When it became very, very hot, twenty of them complained and tried to sneak away. Tubali' tried to get them to finish helping him and his family but couldn't, so he went back to working. When Taylor's task masters caught these slaves sneaking off, they became so enraged that they were ready to crack their whips on them. Taylor saw what happened and came just in time to stop his task masters. He decided to give Tubali' and his family the rest of the day off and punish the other workers by making them return to the plantation to finish their work. He also made them miss dinner and free time the rest of that evening." "I never thought there were any fair slave masters until I found out about Taylor," Pearla interjected. "You'd be surprised to find that there were many more like him, but moving along," Donny said, after unfreezing the projection, "early the next morning, Taylor sent for Tubali'. He wanted to reward Tubali' and his family for all their hard work and dedication to growing the best crops from his farms, milking the cows, and other tasks. So Taylor told Tubali' just to name however they wanted him to reward them. Just name it. Tubali' discussed it with his family and came to an agreement with them. Tubali' returned to Taylor and told him they wanted a golden box rebuilt--an heirloom that had been in the family for generations. They had lost track of it when some Europeans came and raided their village and forced them out of their continent. Taylor pitied Tubali' and his family and asked him to draw him a picture of it so he could design and have someone else build it." "I bet his drawing of the golden box looked awesome," Pearla remarked. "Uh, I think you'd better take a look for yourself at his drawing coming up on my projector," said Donny. Donny unfroze the projection again and continued. "Here we are, finally, when your ancestor is in his bedroom spending hours sketching a picture of the way the box looked before--" "Donny, What's all that crumpled up paper on his desk?" Pearla asked, as her expression turned puzzled at Tubali's sketches. "His drawings look so amateur and messy!" "See? When Tubali' began sketching, his drawings didn't look all that great, either. Everytime he couldn't draw the box the right way, he'd ball up the paper and keep on trying. Finally, Taylor entered his room and saw the trouble he was having. Taylor picked up one of his sketches and was very impressed with it." Pearla's attention wandered off a bit to what Mrs. Jones had said about her cartoons compared to other people's cartoons. "PEARLA?! HELLO?!" "Oh, Donny. I'm sorry. I was distracted by something. Anyway, go ahead." "Okay. Later that day, Taylor decided to take with him Tubali', his sons, Ali' and Kumee', as guides, and some guards on a ship to Nigeria. As you probably know, Nigeria was their homeland. Tubali' told Taylor that they might still find a lot of gold in Nigeria that he could mold into his new box. It took quite a while for them to get there because of heavy rain and thunderstorms--the ship rocking back and forth. But Taylor's ship being large and powerful made it possible to stand up to the rain. And the winds blowing at the ship's sails helped Taylor and the passengers get to Nigeria quicker. It wasn't too long after the hard weeks of sailing that Tubali' smelled fresh soybeans, rice, and good stuff coming from a nearby island. It was because of the aroma that Tubali' knew they were approaching Nigeria--" "I see a lot of natives holding up spears on the island like they're about to attack Taylor and everyone on the boat!" Pearla said, as her eyes widened. "Oh. Not to worry. Nobody got hurt. Everything went smoothly," said Donny, after unfreezing the projection again. "When Taylor's guards saw the natives holding up spears, they took out their rifles and aimed them at the natives. But Taylor made them put the rifles away and told Tubali' to explain in their Hausa language the purpose of their arrival. After Tubali' explained the situation, the natives remembered Tubali' and his family and lowered their weapons. They had no problems leading them to their gold. But before that, they told Tubali' and his sons that his father Kodio-Tumang, was still alive but sick. He was the chief of the natives and had been hiding during the capture of Tubali', his family, and the other inhabitants. Tubali' and his sons went quickly to visit Kodio-Tumang while Taylor's guards stayed behind to watch the ship." "Donny! I look exactly like my ancestor Kodio. The eyes, the nose." "I can see the resemblance myself," Donny observed. "When Tubali' and his sons entered Kodio's hut, they walked closer to his bedside to get a good look at him. Taylor stood by the hut entrance watching all of this. Meanwhile Kodio took one look back at Tubali' and his sons and recognized them. Kodio's eyes were kind of weak at that time, though, and he could barely speak clearly. Sometimes he couldn't get a word out without coughing. After Tubali' explained to his father all the things that had happened to them since they were taken captive, Kodio told Tubali' to continue taking care of his family and trusting God. Next, Kodio called Taylor over to thank him for being so kind to his family. He even insisted that Taylor, Tubali' and his sons take all the gold that they needed. "Before they left the continent, Tubali' sketched some pictures of Kodio and some other pictures of the natives involved in different activities. They made pottery, planted crops, herded the animals, used iron to make weapons like spears, and did many other tasks. That evening, Kodio-Tumang died, and they had a burial in his honor. Tubali', his sons, and many other natives wept as they remembered a lot of great things about him. They remembered Kodio teaching them how to hunt, get along with one another, how to make weapons and use them for battle. They recalled from Kodio how to love their families and take care of them. Because Kodio lived a full life, his death wasn't too hard for them to bear. The next morning, Taylor, Tubali', and Tubali's sons collected as much gold as they could fit into their sacks. Taylor already had the sapphire stones at his mansion to decorate my box with--" "Is that how it became the sapphire box?" Pearla interrupted. "That's right," Donny replied. "When they were done, they boarded the boat to leave. As the ship was pulling out, Tubali' warned the natives to be on guard against any European tradesmen attempting to capture them." CHAPTER 4 "I'm going to fast-forward up to where Tubali' and everyone else is back home and where he is now observing a goldsmith making my box. Here we are," Donny said. "Tubali' is standing there sketching the goldsmith at work. Little did Tubali' know that most of the slaves on break were peeking through the window at him sketching. They ran off and told a few others, and soon all the other slaves knew. From that time on for the rest of his life, dozens of slaves would gather around him to watch him sketch something. He would sketch the slaves working hard in the fields, the little African children running around playing; one day he sketched a doctor delivering his grandson, Tumee'--" "Tubali' could really draw," said Pearla. "He made a lot of slaves happy, especially when they got sick of being beaten and tortured. This happened some years later when Taylor died. His son William is now in charge of the slaves and has inherited everything his father has worked so hard for. He is very mean and right now he's beating Tubali' for sketching a picture of a task master beating another slave. Tubali was kept in a cell for three weeks with only bread and water to live on. He was beaten real bad by the task master" "Did you and Tubali' know each other by that time?" "Yes, Pearla, this is now around the late seventeenth century when we had already met. In some kind of way, I came into existence with special capabilities after lightning struck my box. I explained to your ancestor that I could speak in any language, any slang like the kind that your Black American race speaks. I could think, reason, and feel emotions like a human being, keep up with past and current events, and choose whatever codes I want to summon me. I could exist forever-" "Donny? I remember that time when you and I first met and you spoke slang by saying, 'Yo? What's up?'" Pearla and Donny giggled. "Yeah, I remember that, Pearla" Donny unfroze his projection and continued. "Tubali' didn't tell his family about me yet because he wasn't sure how they'd take the news. Tubali' grew very sick during his last week in the cell. He asked to see his family in private and have them bring my box. When they came inside, he told them all about me dwelling in the box, but before he let them see me, he made them promise not to be afraid of my appearance and not to tell anyone else. He called out the secret code to summon me from my box. When I came out, he introduced me and his family to each other. They were afraid at first, but Tubali' managed to calm them down. I offered my sympathies to them and promised to be there for them whenever they needed someone to talk to. Tubali' mentioned that it might not be long before they were freed. He told them that the Israelites went through the same situation in Egypt in the Bible, but it didn't last forever. � "Tubali made his family agree to hang on to his drawings and my box so they could pass them down as heirlooms to the following generations. Just before Tubali' died, he sketched a picture of his family and myself." "Did any of his sons become sketch artists after he died?" Pearla asked. "No. Actually, Tubali's great-granddaughter Solea became the next sketch artist. This began after she got hold of Tubali's drawings--" Pearla peered at Solea's sketches and said, "Looks like she had some trouble, too, when she started drawing." "You can tell that just by looking at the way she's drawing now. It took a while for her to get good at this. When she started out, most of the slave girls teased her about her drawings because they didn't look as good as her great-grandfather's. One day when she tried to sketch her brother picking cotton in the fields, those same girls came by, laughed at her drawing, and ripped it up. Solea ran into the house crying about this to her mother. After her mother calmed her down, her mother went and told those girls' parents on them--" "What happened to those girls?" asked Pearla. "They got chastised," Donny replied. As Donny continued with the projection, Pearla thought about Sally, Paula, and Donna receiving the same punishment at home. She smiled at the thought, then refocused on Donny's story. "After a few days of encouragement and urging from Solea's family and myself, Solea went back to drawing. One day Solea tried to draw a picture of her mother standing next to a tree, holding Solea's baby sister. When Solea had problems sketching them, she balled up the paper, threw it on the ground, and stormed back into the house. Her mother picked up the paper and looked at the drawing. She was very impressed with it and showed Solea some parts of her drawing that needed fixing up. So Solea worked on the drawing some more, and it looked a lot better. After that, she never stopped drawing--" "Solea's pictures really improved," Pearla remarked while studying the contents of Solea's sketches. "And Solea spent the next seventy years giving secret drawing lessons at night to any slaves interested in drawing. Solea called them secret drawing lessons because she was risking her life to teach them how to communicate their adverse feelings against slavery and other problems through pictures," added Donny. With that, Donny fast-forwarded through the images and continued the visual projection. "Here we are 110 years later--a few monts before the end of slavery for your ancestors. Most of them, except one family, had managed to buy their freedom and move to the North where slavery had long been abolished. Paul Campbell, his wife, Ella, and his daughter, Louella, were the ones who had to stay on the plantations. Right now, Louella is a teenager, and her father is fighting in the Civil War--" "Wait a minute, Donny. 'Campbell' is my mother's maiden name, and my mother must've been named after Louella's mother. You see? My mother's name, Ella comes from Louella." "Yep, Louella's father, Paul decided to give himself that last name as a way of Americanizing himself. Before he volunteered for the war, he gave her some pointers on how to draw. They were basically the same sketching principles his grandfather learned from Solea some years before she died. As Paul spent time fighting in the war, Louella improved her drawing the more she practiced it. She often wondered if her father would ever return from the war alive. But to keep from worrying, she would draw cartoons of the Unionists winning against the Confederates, then show them to the other slaves. These cartoons would give the slaves a lot of hope and joy. She would also draw cartoons of her and the slaves being freed and her father returning from the war alive. The slaves knew that their slavery days were numbered. "Donny, did you and Louella get a chance to talk to each other?" "We sure did, Pearla. She would bring her cartoons to me in this wooden two-room house that her father built for them to live in. I would tell her whether her drawings were good or bad and needed some more work. Sometimes, I would pick on her by saying, 'GIRL!? CAN'T YOU DO ANY BETTER THAN THIS? PERFECTION! PERFECTION!' And she would say, 'GET OUTA HERE.' Because she knew I'd be playing with her." Pearla chuckled. "You sound like you had a very good time with each generation of my ancestors. I wish I could've been around to meet them and pick up some sketching tips from them." "Yeah, we had some good times back then. Louella's house still stands in Virginia today where the tree rests by the lake." Donny ended the projection and turned off the beam. He then paused for a moment. Pearla studied the expressions in his eyes as they glanced downward at her dresser "You miss them, don't you, Donny?" "Yeah," Donny sighed. "But what keeps me going is reflecting on the good times I had with them and on their drawings, especially yours, Pearla." "Mine? You mean my drawings have the same effect on you, too?" "Of course!And better!" Donny's holographic image moved closer to where Pearla sat. "Pearla, you are a very talented cartoonist and . . . . someday you'll be one of the greatest, you know? As time moved on, art collectors began approaching your ancestors to buy their drawings for lots of dough. HUNDREDS AND THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS! Today, their probably worth MILLIONS." "Wow!" Pearla sat in a daze, but then her expression went somber. She walked over to her book bag and pulled out the shreaded pieces of her cartoons from earlier that day. She stared at them and said softly, "I don't know if my cartoons will sell as much." "Pearla? Pearla! Look at me," Donny insisted. Reluctantly, Pearla did so. "The gift is already there. . . . in you, just as it was in your ancestors. And they had to make their sketching talents grow and develop like yours." Pearla nodded. "I know. I know, Donny. Thank you. Thanks for all that you've shared with me." "No problem. Anytime. And when we meet again, I expect to see some GREAT and DYNAMIC cartoons from you." CHAPTER 5 "Pearla!?" Her mother called from downstairs. "Your father's home and dinner's ready! You feel up to eating!?" "Uh, yeah, Mom. I'll be down in a minute!" Donny began descending into the sapphire box. "Well, Pearla, seee ya later. Okay?" "Sure, Donny." After Pearla watched him descend back into his box, the white smoke disappeared. During dinner time in the dining room, Pearla and her parents told one another about how their days had gone. Of course, Pearla didn't tell them about her time with Donny. Her father, Patrick, looked over at her and recollected, "Oh, Pearla? Your mother told me what happened with this Christian magazine today. Are you feeling any better now?" Pearla shoveled some peas into her mouth with her fork. "A little, I guess." She looked up at an old yellowish-white colored portrait of her ancestor Paul Campbell and his family inside a frame, hanging on a wall behind her father. The Campbell family was dressed in black and white clothing. Paul had slick dark hair and wore a fancy mustache. He had on a dark suit, with a banded-collared shirt underneath. Paul's wife, Ella and his daughter, Louella had shiny dark hair, wrapped beautifully in a ball shape from the back of their head. They both wore dark gloves and velvet dresses with white, laced collars. Pearla saw written beneath the picture: "Photo taken by Theodore Jones, August 4, 1869." "That's good," Pearla's father continued, after taking a long drink of his iced tea. "Just keep looking. You'll find a publisher that's interested in your work someday." � "Right, Dad." "Pearla," Ella broke in. "I just wanted to remind you about looking at your ancestors' sketches in that treasure chest up in the attic. Why don't you take a look at them after you eat? Their sketches might give you some ideas for improving your work." "I will. Thanks, Mom." After dinner, Ella gave Pearla the key to the chest, and Pearla went up to the attic to look around for it. Among old toys, broken furniture, and electronic equipment, she found the chest covered with dust and cobwebs. When Pearla opened the chest with the key, she saw drawings, books, diaries, lockets, mirror boxes, and portraits stored inside. She pulled out a drawing. To get a better look at it, she blew off the dust and coughed in it. She fanned away the dust with her hand and brushed it out of her hair. She discovered it was a drawing by Tubali' of Donny's image rising from the lid of the sapphire box. To keep any more dust from getting into her hair, she wrapped it in a ponytail. She remembered seeing that same picture during one of Donny's visual projection.s. She dug around in the chest and pulled out a notebook. She wiped the dust from the front cover, which read: "My Life and Times with Donald by Tubali': Part 2." � "This was another one of Tubali's journals that he kept on Donny," Pearla muttered. Pearla saw many other drawings after that and became captivated with them. Before she closed the chest she spotted a poem that was written in Hausa on one page and translated into English on the other page. It read: By Solea Tears began streaming down Pearla's face after she read the poem. She knew what she had to do about Paula, Sally, and Donna when she saw them in school again. Pearla had learned about forgiving others in Sunday school, in Matthew 6:14-15. It wouldn't be easy to do, but she hoped it would make things a lot more peaceful between her and the three girls. She began to feel a heaviness, which was a burden, within her pass away. After Pearla placed everything back into the chest and closed it up, she returned to her room and began drawing new Preacher Creatures' cartoons. When she looked over at the sapphire box, a bright blue glow surrounded it. THE END
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Copyright © 2001 David L Buchanan |