“I don’t rightly care if you be sixteen or sixty, you’s gonna get what nigger lovers get.”
His fist drew back and I knew this would be the last blow; it would be over. I heard a vehicle approaching. My head spun. Thank goodness.
Their heads turned to see the car. As I finally gained a short breath, I never thought I would be so happy to see Fat Mac’s police car. How many times had I hidden from it, been taken to jail in it? Now I only felt relief as it approached.
We were standing in the opposite lane, blocking the road, so the police car slowed to a crawl as it moved onto the shoulder. The hand fisted in my hair pulled harder, and as the car crept by, I saw Fat Mac looking at me through the closed window. I stared back, pleading. The cigar in his mouth wiggled around as the car stopped. He nodded his head. The car slowly started moving again. It pulled back on the pavement and sped off. I went limp as the fist struck my face.
“If’n you were black, I’d kill you right here for what you done did,” the mask in front of me said. “You keep loving them niggers and you be ending up hanging by your neck. You hear me, white boy?”
A hangman’s noose was placed over my head and yanked tight around my neck. I’m being lynched, my God.
Something struck the right side of my head, and I tumbled to the pavement, unconscious.
54
Empathy
I HEARD A VOICE I RECOGNIZED. My eyes opened slowly, and there stood Doctor Abbott looking down at me. My entire body throbbed. I felt a sharp prick on my cheek.
“Just have one more suture and you’ll be sewed up.”
Suddenly dizzy, I closed my eyes. Doctor Abbott asked someone—a nurse, I guessed—for gauze, ointment, and tape, and I felt a warm, wet rag cleaning my face.
“Last time I saw you, son, you were a boy worried about your sick grandpa. Sorry to see you in this shape. I thought your jaw was broken, but somehow it survived. You’ll be sporting a small scar, a black eye, and the inside of your cheek is cut pretty bad along with your lip. Your teeth got in the way of a punch, and you’ll have a bad headache for quite a while, but otherwise you’re fine.”
I sat up, cleared my vision, and was finally aware. “Doctor Abbott—ouch!” My hand went to my jaw.
“You’ll be hurtin’ pretty good for a few days, but your jaw and black eye will heal in good time. I’ll need to see you in a few weeks to remove the stitches, okay?”
I nodded. “How did I get here?”
“Mr. Hawthorn, he has a farm down your way, he brought you in. Said he and his boy were heading to town and there you were, lying in the middle of the road by your car, all beat up. They put you in his car, and his son drove your car. Don’t suppose you know who did this to you?”
“They all had white masks on. But I’ll know the truck if I see it. The one who beat me was the dad of some kid who tried to beat me up before.”
The doctor groaned and rubbed his brow. “Son, piece of advice: don’t try to get even. It’s a declaration of a war you will lose. One against a gang simply cannot win.”
“But I sure want to.”
“I know you do. So do I, but if you choose a battle, make it one you can win.”
I nodded as he pointed to the trashcan. “Be careful, please, or the next time, they will probably use it.” The noose was sticking out of the can, warning me.
He grabbed my shoulder and shook his head as I stared at the rope. “Nope, you can’t have it. Deserves to be burned with the trash. Oh, and by the way, I’ve nearly worn out my pull saw.”
* * *
It was late when I opened the door to the houseboat and walked in. When they saw the condition of my face and my bloody shirt, shock and questions flew about the room. Bess got up, opened her arms, and we stood there in a long hug. Her hand stroked the back of my head.
“I’m so sorry,” she struggled to say.
As I explained what had happened, Lucilla was particularly upset—Moses saw it.
He looked at her, “Lucilla?”
It took a moment, but Moses allowed her time. She directed her eyes from the floor to Moses, her lips tight, brow furrowed. “Grandpa, why do they hate us so much?” Her voice was full of fury she could just barely contain. “And they even hate white people who don’t hate us. They beat up Jory just because he likes us.” Her sad gaze locked on Moses, pleading for an answer.
The slight smile of concern grew on his face. “Lucilla, walking amongst us are loving, caring people, and sadly, evil people. No one can truly—”
“But Grandpa, what do they hate about us? Why do they hate Jory because he doesn’t hate us?”
He reached out to her with both arms. “Darling, hold my hands, please.”
Bess still holding me close, we watched Moses close his old fingers around hers. “Precious girl, let me explain why—by using our hands, okay?” She nodded. “When I hold your hands in mine, what do I feel? Just another pair of hands? No!” He squeezed gently. “Do you just feel my hands, or do you feel your heart pumping out love and closeness?”
Her eyes dropped to the floor. “No, sweetheart, look at me. I’m not asking you to answer. I’m only asking you to feel.”
She glanced up at him. Moses smiled—she smiled in return.
“Beautiful girl, what you feel right now is empathy, empathy in your heart for me, and empathy for Jory, who just endured such pain and humiliation. Your empathy for Jory brings his pain into your heart—it becomes your pain.
“Empathy is what links us together. The ways of those sad people are born through lack of empathy. They have no compassion for others. Darling, these are cold living things void of any regard or respect for others. Their prejudice runs deep, and it is hard to find an answer for their actions. It is hard not to hate them, I know. I simply feel very sorry for them.”
“But why? Why do you feel sorry for them?” she asked quietly.
He squeezed her hands harder. “Because, Lucilla, they will never feel what you and I feel in our hands and our hearts right now, never. They will never know such wondrous love. Can you imagine what that would be like?”
Lucilla blinked hard as she lowered her gaze to the floor once again—no, she couldn’t imagine that. Our eyes followed hers—we couldn’t either.
55
Log Chain
I WENT TO DOCTOR ABBOTT’S OFFICE to have the stitches removed, and stopped to see Jacob and Max when I was finished. I picked up hamburgers, fries, and Cokes, and we ate lunch on the deck of the largest tug yet. Jacob kept asking me about the truck and the kid I hit with the ice cream cone, and I kept telling him there were just too many of those KKK idiots around.
“Well, I have a plan for Fat Mac at least, and there ain’t no way you gonna talk me out of this. That prick drove right by you laughing to himself. Anyways, ain’t no risk in this plan, for he ain’t gonna know nothing about who did it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“You wanna see? Just come here ’bout eight tonight and you can watch.”
* * *
When Mayhew and I showed up at the tug, it was raining lightly, and the wind was blowing. Jacob was carrying a burlap sack to a car. It contained a log chain, and the hooks at both ends were hanging out of the sack.
“This wind is perfect,” he said.
“What’s the chain for?” Mayhew asked.
“Man, like clockwork, that dumbass cop goes and sets a damn speed trap to catch them folks leaving the Wednesday night service at St. Charles. He backs in the alley near the hardware store and waits for some poor sap going more than twenty-five so’s to get fine money. He makes ’em pay in cash or doubles their fine. He pockets the money. They get out of church about nine-thirty, and he done gets there just before. I’ll be a hiding near the trash bins, and this here chain will already be hid by the telephone post he backs up to.”
“What are you going to do?”
“One end will be hooked around the telephone pole. I’ll slide under his car and hook the other end a
round his rear axle. He ain’t hearing me, ’specially with this here wind. There’s about twenty foot of chain, enough to let him get going real fast when he shoots out to catch me. He ain’t gonna know this car, borrowed it from my cousin, and the lights will be off. When I speed past him, honking and giving him the ever-loving finger, he’ll gun after me like hell won’t have it. You just hide next to the bank where you can see his car and watch the fun.”
Mayhew and I glanced at each other. This was going to be interesting.
I parked down a ways from the bank and we found a spot with a good view. Sure enough, Fat Mac’s police car drove by, stopped, and backed into the alley right up to the telephone pole by the trash bins, facing straight down the road. We could barely see Jacob slide under the car to attach the chain. In only a moment, he was back out and sneaking along the trash bins.
A few minutes later, we heard a loud honking as Jacob’s car, doing about sixty, sped past Fat Mac with his finger in the air, and disappeared down the street. Fat Mac started the car, turned on his red light and siren, and hit the gas. The engine roared and the car flew out of the alley straight down the road after Jacob. It reached the end of the chain, and we heard a loud crash. Fat Mac slammed forward into the steering wheel as the back of the police car flew into the air, slammed down to the pavement, and continued slowly down the road with the front end angled up; it had no rear wheels.
Fat Mac staggered out of the car with a bloody forehead, his hand to his chest, stunned. He gasped and coughed, blood dripping off his chin. He saw the back of his police car sitting on the ground with no rear tires, and turned to see the rear axle and wheels ten feet away in the middle of the road, chained to the post.
We returned to the car, and it was all I could do not to drive by Fat Mac and stare at him with the same apathy he had shown me.
56
Convocation
THE YEARS FLEW BY. I was a few months from eighteen and graduation. Mayhew and I had become skilled diesel engine repair technicians, thanks to Jacob and Max. During that time, I had fended off more attempts from kids degrading and belittling my family and me, but only one came to punches. Without Moses knowing, I had a pistol I bought from Jacob hidden in the car. I was not going to be unarmed if I was stopped again by the KKK. Most of the white people I knew were good folks. However, there were plenty of those set in their warped perspective of prejudice and segregation, so I always kept on alert.
One evening, Mayhew brought up graduating and how glad he would be when he didn’t have to go to school anymore. Moses asked if he had been thinking about what he was going to do when he graduated. He said he wanted to be a mechanic, and maybe work with Jacob down at the dock on tugs, or work for a filling station as a mechanic on cars.
Moses told him that a mechanic was an admirable profession. He then looked up at me. “Jory, what about you?”
“Well, I suppose I’ll go back to Tchula and run the store like my dad.”
“I assumed you would be going to college. My guess is you really want to. Might I be correct?”
I thought for a moment. “I guess so. But I think I need to run the store.”
“Why can’t you let the fella run it for you while you go to college?”
I wasn’t sure. The thought of leaving my dad’s store to someone else when I was capable of taking care of it didn’t settle well with me. “Maybe I could. I just have to do some thinking about it.”
“I’d like to see you go to college, son. I believe Lucilla will go to college as well.”
“I really want to, Grandpa,” Lucilla piped up. “But I don’t know how I could pay for it.”
“You would get a job, and we’d figure out how to get the rest. We will work it out when the time comes. Do you still want to be a teacher?”
“Yes.”
Moses smiled, “You would make a wonderful teacher.”
“That’s for sure,” I said, and Lucilla beamed.
* * *
Graduation day. The woman at the IGA grocery store made a cake with Congratulations Graduates on top. It resembled a big graduation cap with a long tassel; she didn’t know, of course, that there were no caps at our graduation. I picked up the cake on the way to school, loading the car with enough soda, chips, and snacks for everyone.
There were twenty-seven kids in school, and nine of us were graduating seniors.
Miss Lucy went to the front of the church and stood behind the podium. She talked about how proud she was of all the children in the school, and especially those graduating, and thanked us for helping the lower grades with their curriculum during the year. With every graduate, she brought up specific praise and recounted many memorable things about each of us.
“Mayhew,” she said. “Now here’s a boy who can do whatever he wants to do”—and then emphasized—“when he decides he wants to. For a boy who didn’t like school,” Mayhew dropped his chin and looked at the floor, “he was a darn good student.” He popped his head up and smiled. “Mayhew could have gotten all As if he wanted to, right Mayhew?” Bess patted him on the back. “And Mayhew is probably going to be the best mechanic there ever was.” A smile bigger than I’d ever seen filled his face.
Miss Lucy looked at me. “Now I don’t rightly know what direction Jory is heading, but I assure you, we will see great things from him.” She smiled. “I see you becoming a mayor, a doctor, a prominent businessman, whatever you decide to do. You are such a committed young man, and you stay with your convictions, no matter the opposition. We are all very glad you decided to stay with us when you could have gone to any other school of your choice. You have been such a help to us, and a fine example to the other students. Thank you, Jory.”
Her words made me feel like I was flying. Moses nodded, and Bess rubbed my shoulder. I was the last mentioned, and as she finished, Miss Lucy said, “I’ve asked Mr. Kent if he would honor us by saying a few words to you today. We all know how wise Moses is, and we look forward to his address.” She stepped down and Moses went to the podium.
He looked out in silent admiration at all of us. I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say, and I was on the edge of my seat, proud that he was my Grandpa. He hadn’t told us he’d been asked to speak, and it was a real surprise.
“Shakespeare said, ‘We are such stuff that dreams are made of,’ and he was right. Every one of you has dreams. And every one of you in this schoolroom will face challenges, especially the students graduating today. You all have great potential, and the most important thing you can do as young people is never give up on those dreams and goals, no matter the opposition.”
He held his hands out in front of him. “These hands are black, just as yours are, and you must never let that deter you from your dreams. Each and every one of you in this school must never stop working toward the happiness you desire, whatever it is, and no matter the obstacles. The color of your skin has nothing to do with your goals, nothing. One day, not so far away, we will have equal rights, for many good people are working hard to achieve this, and in the meantime, we must never stop being proud of who we are.” He looked at us. “Do you all understand this?”
Everyone nodded and said, “Yes!”
“It takes a great deal of courage and strength not to allow obstacles to get in our way and change the path we must take.” Moses pointed to me. “All of you are well aware of the obstacles my grandson, Jory, faced these past years. He was put in jail, taken away from us, threatened, and abused. He could have given up, or simply left us. But he never did. He endured, and fought hard for what he believed in. He wanted us—you and I, and he never gave us up because others told him he should. Think about this when you feel life is being unfair to you. Jory never gave up, he kept our family whole, and you should never give up what you believe in either.”
Looking at Moses, it was as if I were looking at my dad—only old and black. For some unknown reason, I felt as if my dad had somehow made this all happen. Was that why we read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn?
Did that story tell me to go to the river to find my way, to find my friend, as Huck found Jim?
The kids clapped as loud as they could. Miss Lucy went back to the podium, and another teacher played the graduation march on the piano. As she called the names of each graduate, we got up and received our graduation certificates. When the last student sat back down, she announced goodies were at the back for the graduation party. While we were eating cake, Miss Lucy came over and thanked me, and told me she would miss me very much. I told her I would stop by now and then. She gave me a hug. I would indeed miss her.
* * *
The power company truck and crew showed up on a Monday to drill holes in the ground and stick in telephone poles. Two men showed up to run wires and plugs throughout the houseboat. Moses was a little bewildered by the activity. He looked at me sternly and said, “Jory, what…?”
“Grandpa, they’re bringing in electricity, and the phone people will be installing a telephone. These men are running all the wires. And don’t say a thing, because you have no choice.” He put his hands on his hips. I only grinned at him. He shook his head and smiled. He knew he lost this one.
Three days later, there were lights in every room and both the bow and stern decks, and sockets on the walls. I got a used TV, a radio, and a repairman took out the old kerosene stove and installed an electric stove and a refrigerator. Mayhew and Lucilla were excited, and Bess couldn’t believe she had a refrigerator with a freezer that made ice cubes.
57
Departure
WE WERE ALL IN THE LIVING ROOM talking about our plans. Mayhew said he was going to start looking for a mechanics job, and I told him I’d help. I mentioned that there was a chance he would be able to get a job in Tchula and stay with me.
My Water Path Page 23
