Portrait of a Queen
by Veronica Fields Johnson
Jade found herself in a field of yellow daffodils.
As the favorite granddaughter of Ms. Candace, the “Queen of Middletown,” she was royalty. Her grandmother bragged about every accomplishment she made, so everyone Jade met knew who she was and was just as proud. “That’s a good girl right there,” some would say. “Taking time to come see about Ms. Candace out here in the country.”
Her grandmother’s house sat next to her business, Candace’s Sewing Shop, which doubled as a history museum. The prize-winning handmade quilts hanging in the shop told stories of local Black folks. Ms. Betty, the town historian, would bring school children and the occasional out-of-towners by the shop to look at the quilts and give them oral history lessons.
Ms. Betty was at the shop when Jade stopped by. “Girl, how you doing? We haven’t seen you in a good while,” she said and gave her a big hug. “Ms. Candace has been waiting for your next visit. She had to go down to the church to fix some bridezilla’s wedding dress, but she’ll be back later. She left something for you and said to give it to you when you got here.” She pulled a package out of the fabric closet and gave it to Jade.
Jade opened the dress box and parted the tissue paper to find a quilted skirt so vibrant she drew in a breath. It was a beautiful inheritance full of blues, teals, greens, oranges, and purples, all the colors that made ebony-toned women like her sparkle.
“Queen made it for your mama.” She always referred to Candace with her royal moniker. “but she didn’t never want to wear it. So, Queen saved it and left instructions for it to go to the kinfolk who’d appreciate it. That would be you. Put it on and let me see.”
When Jade emerged from the dressing room, Ms. Betty’s face lit up. “Ooh, girl, you looking good. We got to take a picture, so Queen can see. Not here though. Let’s go across the way.”
Jade followed Ms. Betty to the daffodil field down the street. The family roots she’d longed to know more about were tied to the land. A place that a quiet city girl like her loved, even though her mother had vowed not to stay there too long unless she had to.
“Now you know you got to pose, honey.” Ms. Betty strutted like a runway model, making Jade giggle. “Show’em what you working with.”
Instinctively, Jade raised her head up high when Ms. Betty held up her camera. She’d not been to Middletown since right before she went off to college, but the joyful town always reminded her of the best summer memories. “Hold that head up gal,” her grandmother used to tell her when her mother dropped her off for visits. “I don’t allow no moping on this here land.”
Jade did a little dance when she discovered the skirt had pockets. Her rhythmic moves only stopped by the contents of the yellowed envelope she found in the right-hand pocket. It was a free and clear deed to the land she stood on, including the woods next to the field and the cabin that sat on the land.
“OMG! Granny is giving all this to me?”
A tooting horn from the road caught Ms. Betty’s and Jade’s attention. Jade picked up her skirt and ran to the car her grandmother stood next to and nearly knocked her over with a big hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Granny. I promise I will take care of it.”
Jade’s mother never embraced her country heritage. She never understood what attracted her daughter to the slow-paced living in Middletown. But Jade embraced it all. Here, she escaped the constricting world her mother tried to mold her to fit. Here, she was free.
She found the serenity she needed to breathe.