by Ginny Dye
Janie edged up to him, her eyes sparkling with fun. “I’m glad you’re here,” she shouted. “After spending four years telling these men’s stories in the newspaper, you should be here to watch the parade.”
Matthew grinned. “This will be a fun story to write.” He pushed away horrific memories of the battles he had covered. He was certain he would never entirely lose the images he carried in his mind, but their impact was lessening. Instead of paralyzing him, they inspired a jolt of gratitude that he had survived, as well as a determination to ensure the sacrifices had not been made in vain. As he watched the parade stream by, he was glad to see what seemed like an endless wave of men who had survived with him.
The majority of the parade-watchers were women, children, and old men. Almost every other male of fighting age, which meant anyone from fifteen to fifty, was now marching. He felt curious eyes on him, but he was secure in his years as a war correspondent. He had served.
He forced himself to focus on the steady stream of soldiers moving past him. Many were minus a leg, hobbling with the aid of crutches and canes. Black patches covered blind eyes, while empty sleeves announced a missing arm. The thing every man had in common was the fierce pride on their faces as the crowd hollered and cheered, even when their voices grew hoarse. It took hours for the ten thousand men, accompanied by bands and colorful floats, to parade through the streets, but not one person moved until the last soldier had passed by.
Only then did the crowd begin to break up.
Matthew was suddenly aware of how loudly his stomach was growling. “I understand there is food at the house?” he asked hopefully.
Janie laughed. “Lots of it,” she promised, laughing harder when Matthew rubbed his hands together and licked his lips.
Matthew reached into his pocket when they finally got back to the house. He had arrived with barely enough time to see the beginning of the parade. The envelope he carried had been burning a hole in his pocket ever since. He handed it to Carrie as they stepped into the foyer. “It’s from Abby,” he said in response to the question in her eyes. He smiled when she stiffened. “It’s good news,” he assured her.
Carrie relaxed and reached for the envelope. She opened it, read it quickly, and then smiled with delight. “Listen!”
Dearest Carrie,
I know how much all of you have been thinking about Jeremy and praying for him. It will still be a few weeks before Dr. Wild removes the casts on his arms, but the last stitches have been removed from his head and the swelling has all disappeared. He is as handsome as ever. The deepest cuts were on his head, so the hair is growing back to cover them. Marietta has teased him about being as vain as a woman, but he merely retorts that he wants his beautiful fiancée not to have to start life with a scarred husband. I can assure you it wouldn’t matter to Marietta. She absolutely adores Jeremy!
Dr. Wild is confident the concussion has completely healed. He has cleared Jeremy to return to work on Monday but made him promise he would only work half days for the first two weeks. To my surprise, Jeremy agreed easily. I suspect he is enjoying his time with Marietta and is not eager to go back to work.
Spencer is completely back to normal…at least physically. I’ve noticed he is much more nervous when he is driving, but he doesn’t let it stop him. Of course, it could have something to do with the armed guards that ride with us everywhere. They are really quite impressive. I’m almost ashamed to admit how much of a relief it is to have a man with a rifle accompanying me everywhere I go, but I also realize what a dangerous time we are living in.
I’m sure we’ll never know who attacked them, but, as odd as it sounds, it seems to have helped with tensions at the factory. Whites and blacks were equally enraged by what happened. We’ve had a steady stream of food coming into the house. May might never have to cook again. And Jeremy has been receiving so many letters. Even the employees who can’t write have had someone transcribe a letter for them. They all want him to know how badly they feel. It’s really quite remarkable. I guess it’s just more evidence that adversity can bring people together.
Please give everyone there my love. I have to close now so that Matthew can take this letter with him.
I love you dearest daughter,
Abby
All the women clapped enthusiastically. “That’s wonderful news!” Elizabeth cried.
“Something else to celebrate!” Alice agreed. She waved everyone toward the kitchen. “Let’s carry the food out onto the porch. I don’t want to miss a minute of the fun.”
Matthew gasped when he walked into the kitchen. “Where in the world did all this food come from?” He could hardly believe the piles of fried chicken stacked on platters, surrounded by bowls of potato salad, fruit salad, and biscuits. Two apple pies completed the spread. He stared at the women. “You’re all medical students. How did you have time to make all this?”
Florence laughed. “Ask Janie.”
Matthew turned wondering eyes on Janie, suddenly aware of just how pretty she was. The realization took his breath as he gazed at her blue eyes dancing in her animated face. He could barely conjure up the image of the frightened, battered woman he had last seen on the plantation the summer before. “Janie?” He fought to keep his voice even.
Janie shrugged. “We didn’t make a thing,” she admitted. “One of Opal’s old customers opened a new restaurant when the old one burned down. Opal gave her permission to use her recipes. She feeds these hungry medical students quite often, and I’ve sent a lot of business her way. If it was up to us, we would probably survive off soup and sandwiches. Thanks to Sophia, we usually eat better than that.”
Matthew rubbed his hands together. “It looks wonderful,” he said warmly. He kept his eyes on Janie. “Can I fill a plate for you?” He was pleased when she nodded immediately.
He chatted easily with the other women while they filled their plates, but his thoughts were on Janie. He had always liked her, but his mind had been too full of Carrie to truly pay much attention when they were together. He had celebrated when she married Clifford, and then supported her when she escaped to the plantation, but he’d never really gotten to know her. He watched her now, impressed with the intelligence and warmth radiating from her eyes. This confident woman was quite a change from the one he had known before.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Moses stepped onto the makeshift platform that had been erected. The long day was winding to an end. Hours of play had tired even the children, and the mountains of food had been devoured. There was not one morsel left on the platters lining the tables. The sun had sunk below the treetops, casting a golden glow on the field. He knew his first Fourth of July party was one he would never forget.
Even with his concern about what might happen, he had still been able to have fun. It would have been impossible not to enjoy Felicia and John laughing hysterically during the games. He had loved dancing with Rose when several of the men tuned up their fiddles and banjos and launched into foot-tapping music that resonated through the sultry heat. He had sweated profusely, but he had enjoyed every minute.
As he stepped onto the platform, however, he felt a renewed heaviness press down on him. Every muscle stiffened as his gaze swung to the road, only slightly relieved when he saw it was empty. His eyes swept the crowd as he assured himself the men from his old unit were now stationed strategically in a protective semi-circle around everyone else. The rifles were still tucked away in the wagons, but he knew every one of them had a pistol in their waistband, and their posture indicated they were ready for anything.
“Give us a speech, Moses!”
Moses smiled as one of the women called out to him. When he and Rose escaped the plantation almost five years earlier, he never would have dreamed he would return. He certainly never dreamed he would step forward as a leader to give a speech. As he looked out over more than one hundred of his people watching him expectantly, he felt a surge of emotion that almost left him breathless. He searched for Rose, s
aw her face glowing with pride, and then opened his mouth.
“Today is the Fourth of July. It’s the day we celebrate the birth of a nation, but until today it meant nothing to me because I was a slave for too long in the land of the free. I despised the Fourth of July because it only seemed to mock the reality that I could never have what this country was based on.”
Moses paused as his words rang out into the still air. This was the first speech he had ever set out to deliberately give. He felt both humble and strangely exhilarated as he realized he had something to give to his people. His voice grew stronger.
“Even though we have been declared free, we have only begun the battle that must be fought. The Congress has passed the Civil Rights Act. It has passed the Fourteenth Amendment that secures our equal rights. I know my wife has taught you all that, but I’m here to tell you that passing the laws is just the first step. It’s a necessary step, but it’s also one that will make life even harder for us for a while.”
He watched faces grow grave with concern, but only truth would prepare them for what was coming. He had read everything Matthew had written. He had read the information flowing from Washington. He knew what every black in the nation was up against.
“The South is going to fight this. They are going to fight everything that secures our freedom. They are going to fight everything that secures our civil rights. They are going to fight everything that forces them to act as if we are equals. Let there be no mistake. We are equals,” he called. “We are equals.” His words hung in the air for a long moment. “But not just the men,” he added sternly. “Every woman and man here today are equal. We all have a part to play in the future of our people.
“It is going to take great courage to press forward through this time. There will be people who come after us. There will be people who try to intimidate us by making us afraid. There will be people who treat us as if we are inferior. We are not inferior! There is not one person here today who is inferior in any way.”
He watched as shoulders straightened and heads lifted. His heart soared as eyes brightened with confidence.
“We must fight for our rights. We must fight for the right to vote. We must fight for the right for education at every level.”
A man stood up on the edge of the clearing. “And what if we ain’t living on a place like Cromwell Plantation?” he called. “I had to sneak over here a little while ago. I ain’t allowed to leave the plantation unless I got me a pass. That man, Sowell, he ain’t handing out passes,” he said angrily. “I done came anyway, but if I get caught, I gonna pay for it. He don’t own me no more, but he still acts like he does!”
Moses took a deep breath and nodded. “I know, Eli. I know it’s tough. It’s going to take time to change things for everyone.” He knew many of the people watching him were from neighboring plantations. They had begun to arrive late in the afternoon after their day’s work had been completed. “This country has only seen us as slaves for a long time. But there are people fighting for things to change.”
“There must not be enough of them,” Eli yelled.
Moses agreed with him. He also decided this was a good time to make his announcement. “You’re right,” he answered. “That’s why Rose and I are leaving the plantation next summer. She is going to college to become an educator for all our people, and I am going to college to become an attorney. I figure the best way to make things change for everyone is to fight for the laws put in place to protect you.”
He smiled when a shocked silence fell on the clearing. “There are many of you here who may never go to college, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still make a difference. Every one of you should learn how to read. People can’t take advantage of you if you are educated. You have to make sure every one of your children goes to school. You have to refuse to be afraid,” he added sternly. “This country has controlled us by fear for too long. We have done things because we were too afraid not to. No more! There are a number of you who are property owners. More of you are earning fair wages for the first time in your life. Far too many of you are still being treated badly. The plantation owners want you to believe they still own you, yet you had the courage to leave your plantations and join us today. Every step you take toward freedom — a true freedom that you feel deep inside your own gut — will make the fear disappear.”
Moses felt the approaching danger even before he heard the sound of pounding hooves in the woods. “Trouble is coming!” he yelled. “All of the women and children need to go into the woods. And those men who did not work for me need to go too. Go in as far as you can and hide behind the trees.” Surprised faces stared up at him. “Now!” He knew there wasn’t much time.
Rose jumped up from the ground. She grabbed John’s hand as she clutched Hope to her chest. “Let’s go!” she cried. “Everything will be alright.” She exchanged a confident look with Moses, and then turned and ran.
With the exception of a few muted cries, the women and children were silent as they fled into the woods. A handful of men — those who had left their plantations without passes — fled with them.
Moments later, Bailey, one of the men Moses had stationed at the intersections, galloped into the clearing, his eyes wide with fear. “They’re coming!” he yelled.
Moses held up his hand and stepped in front of Bailey’s horse as he pulled it to a fast stop. “How many?” he barked.
“Ten,” Bailey responded, his eyes flitting to the road. “They all got rifles!”
“Did they see you?” Moses asked sharply.
Bailey shook his head. “I don’t…think so,” he said breathlessly. “I did just what you told me. I waited ‘til they got ‘round the bend before I lit out through the woods. They mighta heard me, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t see me.”
“Good,” Moses replied, forcing his voice to remain calm. He had planned for something like this. Now it was time to see if his plan would work. A quick glance told him the women and children were all in the woods. He prayed they would go back a long ways before they hid behind trees. He was suddenly confident in the fact Rose would make sure of it. He could turn his attention to what was about to happen in the clearing.
Another look told him his men had claimed their rifles from the wagon. Simon was talking to them quietly as they formed a line in front of his house. The rest of the men he had hired for the summer, all veterans, had the pistols the other men had carried. He had twenty armed men ready to take on ten vigilantes. He didn’t want there to be a battle, but if there was one, he liked their odds. He smiled at his men and then walked over to stand in front of the line, his rifle resting across his arms.
Less than a minute later, ten horsemen, their faces covered with bandanas, galloped into the clearing with rifles held firmly in one hand.
Moses raised his hand, knowing all the men behind him had raised their weapons at the same time. “You’re on private property,” he called loudly.
The lead horseman pulled his horse to a stop, muttering a curse as he stared at the line of firepower behind Moses. “What do you think you’re doing, boy?” he taunted, only his eyes showing his nervousness. He had obviously been counting on the element of surprise.
“I think, Cannon, that I am protecting privately owned property,” Moses snapped. When he saw Daniel Cannon stiffen, he knew he was dismayed he had been recognized. “I suggest you leave now,” he said quietly, pulling his rifle to his shoulder and taking aim at the angry plantation owner. He knew the twenty men behind him had taken aim at the other horsemen who had remained silent since their arrival, only their eyes betraying their nervous fury.
Cannon held his ground but his finger stayed away from the trigger. “You’re the nigger running Cromwell Plantation, aren’t you, boy?”
Moses decided he didn’t owe the man any information. He stared at him silently.
“You know that if we leave now, we’re just going to come back, don’t you?” Cannon growled.
“We could go ahead and
kill you now,” Moses suggested evenly. “Then we won’t have to worry about that.”
“You touch one of us and every white man in the county is going to come after you,” Cannon warned, his eyes flashing with sudden panic.
“That could be,” Moses agreed calmly. “But the satisfaction of killing ten of you would probably make it worthwhile.” His voice sharpened as he took a step forward. “You are on private land, Cannon. Get off.” Moses’s finger moved to the trigger. “I’m not patient enough to tell you again.”
“Hey, Cannon!” one of the men yelled. “Look at all them blankets. They must have been having some kind of party, just like you said. I bet all the women and kids are hiding back there in the woods. I bet the niggers who left the plantations earlier are hiding in there, too.” He pulled his horse away from the rest of the horsemen. “I bet they aren’t armed!”
Moses knew by the sounds behind him that his men had shifted to form a barrier in front of the woods, but it was also obvious to him that he was going to have to do more than threaten. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said grimly, as he took careful aim and pulled the trigger. The report of his rifle echoed through the clearing.
Cannon yelled. “You shot me, you filthy nigger!” His eyes widened with pained disbelief as his rifle clattered to the ground. He grabbed his arm as his horse skittered beneath him.
“Only in the one arm you have left,” Moses said coldly. “And I only nicked you. I might not be so careful next time.”
Cannon cursed loudly, his voice filling the late afternoon air as his eyes glittered with hatred. “You made a big mistake, boy!”
“That might be,” Moses said evenly. “But I’m feeling the urge to make a bigger one.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve run out of patience, Cannon. I’m giving you ten seconds to go back down the road the way you came. In exactly ten seconds, the twenty men behind me are going to open fire. We don’t usually miss what we’re shooting at,” he added casually.
