by Ison, S. A.
“It’s an old canning pot, and when I can find another one, we can have two pots boiling hot water. For now, this will work,” Willene said.
“What is the mop bucket for?” Katie asked, looking at the large yellow mop bucket; she’d seen them at the hospital. It had the mop squeezing bracket mounted to the bucket.
“That is the rinse water. Once you wash your clothes, you rinse in that large bucket. Then you put the clothing into the mop squeezer and squeeze the water out, instead of trying to wring it out,” Marilyn said smiling widely.
“Oh, that is smart!” Katie laughed, delighted. She’d hand-washed things in the past, and it was always a pain to wring them out.
“Yeah, and then you just hang them on the line,” Willene said, laughing as she indicated the clotheslines like Vanna White, eliciting laughter from the women.
“I figure we can choose a day to wash our stuff, with each of us responsible for our own laundry. But, using the large tub, we can get it done at once or when we find time,” Willene said.
“That’s good. I don’t think I want to wash Boggy or Earl’s clothes.” Marilyn made a face, and all the women busted out laughing, their hilarity filling the air.
Katie looked around and saw Boggy’s head peeking around the corner of the house. And then she saw Harry looking through the kitchen door, apparently drawn to their laughter. They all laughed harder when they saw the men, and when the men quickly disappeared, the women became hysterical laughing all the harder. They were all bent at the waist, wiping tears from their eyes. Katie almost fell to the ground, her knees going weak with hilarity.
“I imagine they thought we were laughing about them,” Willene said, still laughing and wiping the tears from her eyes.
“We were,” Marilyn said, and doubled over into another fit of laughing. That made the women laugh more, and Monroe came around the house, a large grin on his face. The women began to calm down, wiping the tears away, and periodic giggling burst out before they got themselves under control.
“Lord, that felt good,” Katie said, using the edge of her shirt to wipe her eyes and nose.
“It sure was, but I mean it. I don’t want to wash those men’s clothes. I’ve got enough with mine and Monroe’s,” Marilyn said, and the women began to vibrate once more with suppressed hilarity.
“Whas so funny, Mommy?” Monroe asked his mother, his arms wrapped around her hips.
Katie watched with a soft smile as Marilyn bent and kissed her son, then gave him a shirt. “Nothing, honey, but it is time for you to learn how to wash your own clothes,” Marilyn said, a broad smile on her face.
The kitchen screen door opened and Harry stood at the door, smiling. He waved Katie over to him. Katie smiled at the women and then walked across the yard to the house. When she got there, Harry was standing in the kitchen, drinking coffee.
“Clay is awake and in some pain. I figured you could go see him,” Harry said, a question lurking in the depths of his eyes.
Katie grinned. She knew he wanted to know what the women had been laughing at, but she wouldn’t tell. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from busting out laughing again. She sighed heavily. “Thanks. I’ll go see to him.”
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Mary Deets woke up, her body hurting. She didn’t know if it were day or night, or how long she’d been in this hole. She could hear others moving around, and someone was asleep beside her, the heat radiating from the body. She wasn’t sure who it was, as people took turns sleeping beside her.
The people down here in the coal mine had made a comfortable pallet for her and given her extra food and water. They were very protective of her, as she was five months pregnant. Which was more than could be said for those two officers and their lackeys, who had handled her roughly.
Gideon Elliot, her neighbor, had come over when he’d heard her screams. Officers Gene Grady and Tom Learn had at least had the decency to look ashamed when they’d come to her door. There’d been two other men with them she didn’t know. One of them had handled her roughly, pulling her out of her home.
She had screamed for Howard, her husband. Grady had shocked her to her core when he laughed and said Howard was all over the office.
Mary didn’t know a lot of what had happened after that; she’d gone numb and buckled in their arms. She remembered Gideon coming out his door, screaming at the officers. They’d beaten Gideon and thrown him into the back of a truck, then dragged his wife and two teen sons in after him, their hands zip tied. Gideon’s wife, Julie, had held her in her arms as the truck bounced around en route to the coal mine.
There’d been a line of people, many of them black, some white, and a couple Hispanics. Around them were white men, lots of white men, many sporting swastika tattoos. They all had weapons. The women in the line were crying, holding their children closely. She was dragged roughly out of the truck and once more Gideon protested her rough handling. He was beaten to the ground, and Julie had cried out. The men had shoved her and her children to the line along with Mary.
Mary had been terrified when she was lowered into the depths of the coal mine with Julie, Gideon, and their boys. There were no lights, and her heart had slammed hard into her chest. She could barely breath, and her hands cradled her belly protectively, her body vibrating. Julie’s arms were around her and her boys, Boyd and Steven.
Mary had felt the damp cool air around her and the oily smell of coal. The light from above had faded, and then it was gone. She had no idea how long they’d been down this hole.
Mary sat up slowly, feeling her way around. There was a dim light about fifteen feet away, and she carefully felt her way up and away from the sleeping person. She made her way carefully to the candlelight. Someone took her arm gently and led her the rest of the way.
“Good morning, Mary. How are you feeling?” It was Gideon guiding her.
“I’m okay. I dreamed of Howard. What’s going on?” Mary asked, her voice trembling with the dream and remembered reality.
“We’re getting ready to go to work,” Gideon said. “They sent down more food, and I want you to eat. We asked for dust masks for folks down here.” He pressed one into her hands as he spoke. “I want you to wear it at all times. This coal dust is not good for you or the baby.” His face was pale in the candlelight, though black streaks of coal dust were all over his face. Beneath the streaks, she saw that his bruises were healing. He and his wife were older, and had always been good neighbors. Julie had been excited about Mary’s pregnancy.
They’d managed to work out that anyone who tried to protect or harbor blacks, Hispanics, Asians, and non-Christians would end up in the mines, working. They’d been told that the KKK ruled now, and that if they wanted to eat, to live, then they’d have to work in the coal mines. If they refused, they’d be left in the dark to starve to death. Mary didn’t know how many people were down here, but most were black, like her.
There were quite a few white people, but it was getting harder to tell they were white, as the coal dust covered everyone and everything. They kept the food covered with heavy cloths. Mary could feel the grit in every crack and crevasse. Some of the people had given her extra clothing to keep her warm and dry.
Gideon handed her a large chunk of bread and bottle water.
“I hate to ask, but is there any way they can send milk down for me and the children down here? My baby needs it, and I know the children do as well.”
“I’ll ask. I’m seeing about getting more blankets and fruits and vegetables as well, and some candles. If those idiots want us to work, then they will need to keep us strong. I’m getting ready to go down into the shafts. Is there anything else I can get you?” Gideon asked.
“No, I’m fine. Where is Julie?” Mary asked.
“She is with the boys. They are searching some of the tunnels near us, looking for things we can use. We are thinking of a way to get word out that we are here, and hopefully someone will help us,” Gideon assured her.
He patted h
er arm and turned to go toward the back of the tunnel with the other men and the older boys. Each put a hardhat on with a headlamp. They all carried pickaxes, shovels and buckets.
Mary watched the men go, still nibbling on the bread. At least it was good. She hoped the KKK didn’t put poison in their food. Her heart hurt, thinking of her husband being betrayed by his fellow officers. Tears fell silently down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away, as they would only mix with the coal dust. She then took the dust mask and placed it over her nose and mouth. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe, but she knew it was all in her mind. She moved slowly back to her sleeping pallet, trying not to bump into the walls and low ceilings.
She dreaded when she had to go to the bathroom: it was terrible trying to clean herself in the dark and with the grit all over her. The smell was also hellish after all these people had used the three buckets. She knew it was unhealthy and it frightened her. Her baby was now her only connection to Howard. She’d heard from several people that her home and Gideon and Julie’s home had been burnt to the ground.
She turned her head toward the candle; someone was being lowered down. A man was cursing loudly, the foul language echoing down the tunnels. A new arrival. Mary turned and lay back down on her pallet. There was nothing for her to do, and the less energy she used, the more the calories she had consumed went to her baby. She could feel the tears sliding down the corner of her eye to her cheek.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Earl held onto the stair railing as he came down from his bedroom. The smell of coffee had snaked up to his room. He was feeling halfway human, finally out of the brain-numbing pain. Boggy had told him Clay was at the house, and that he’d been shot by a bunch of white boys, probably KKK.
Earl walked into the living room, and found Clay sleeping on the couch, a dog asleep on the floor beside him. The creak from the old floor caused Clay’s eyes to pop open.
“Sorry I done did woked ya, Clay,” Earl said, ducking his head.
“Hey Earl, you look like crap.” Clay laughed, and then winced.
Earl sniggered and went to the armchair nearest the couch and sat down. He leaned over and shook Clay’s outstretched hand. Marilyn came into the living room carrying two cups of coffee. She smiled at the men and handed each a coffee.
“How are you feeling, boys?”
“Fine,” they said in unison, then grinned at each other.
Katie came down the stairs and joined them. She smiled at Clay, and he sat up a little straighter. Earl raised an eyebrow, curious. Harry came in from outside, the screen door slamming behind him. He and Clay nodded to Harry, and Earl sipped his coffee.
“I wanted to have a meeting with everyone, if ya’ll are feeling up to it,” Harry said to Clay and Earl.
Both men nodded, and Harry headed into the kitchen. He returned with a cup of coffee and egg biscuit with ham. Willene also came in, carrying a whole plate filled with the fluffy biscuits.
His stomach growled loudly and he looked around sheepishly. It had been a while since he’d eaten regular food; Willene had been feeding him a lot of oatmeal and soft egg and gravy.
Years ago, with the mining accident, he’d not only lost his lower leg but also six of his front teeth. Hobo’s beating had knocked out more teeth. He had most of his molars, but all his front teeth were now gone. His mouth was still sore, and Marilyn and Willene had insisted he rinse his mouth out several times a day with warm salt water. They didn’t want him to develop an infection in his jaw. So far, he’d healed well.
The over-the-counter pain meds Marilyn had given him had helped, and he was able eat with relatively little pain now. Clay’s dog was whining, and Harry walked over to let the dog out to join Charley. Earl heard the dogs barking at each other; at least they sounded friendly. He sipped his coffee and nibbled on the delicious buttery biscuit. It was nirvana, and he was starting to feel whole once more.
“It seems that the mayor is purging the town with extreme prejudice,” Harry began, all faces on him.
Earl thought he looked a little tired, and was determined to stand his watch tonight. “You’uns done did said a mouthful, brother. I’s recon that thar peckerwood mayor will be livin’ high on the hog now,” Earl said. and noticed Harry’s lip twitch with humor.
“Yes, and for now, I’m sorry to say, there isn’t much we can do about it. When you’re up to it in a day or two, Earl, I want to go out on reconnaissance. When Clay is better, we need to figure out how to even the playing field.” Harry took a bite of his biscuit.
“That’s going to be hard to do,” Clay said. “The good folks of Beattyville are spread out in the hills and mountains. Many may not even know what is going on. I sure didn’t until you told me. We are now in a new era of isolation, like our ancestors. Kentucky, and especially the people of the mountains, has historically lived isolated. The mountains are a great separator.”
“He’s right,” Katie said. “How can we determine who is with the mayor and the sheriff and who is not? Unless these people are running around in bedsheets. We can’t assume every white person is with him.”
Earl saw Boggy flinch. He was quiet. He knew the young man was afraid. Hell, he was afraid. He’d heard many of his friends talk trash about others of different colors, but he’d never bought into it himself. He had always kept his opinion to himself.
“I agree,” Willene said. “How will we know who we can trust? And how can we help those in town, and anyone in the mountains, in danger of the mayor’s ignorance and evil?”
“That’s going to be hard, and honestly, I really don’t know right now. We’ll need help. maybe Alan could get in contact with people who would be willing to help us. I hate to say, but we may not have the capacity to help anyone but ourselves. We do have in our favor the fact that we are isolated and therefore not open to a lot of attack. I hope,” Harry said. “I know we are a few days to a week’s walk from Lexington, and I imagine they are imploding by now. I don’t know if we will see anyone soon.”
“Whoever we do see will be looking to take what we have, don’t you think?” Marilyn asked.
“I’d say yes, and we may end up having to fight them. We just don’t have the resources. And to invite total strangers into our home may end up bringing danger here,” Harry said.
Earl listened, his heart sinking. He knew his friends were right. Whoever came here wasn’t coming to be friendly and to help them; they were going to be coming to help themselves. He couldn’t blame them, but this was his home now and his people, and he needed to help defend the house and his friends.
“I walked for near on twelve hours a day and I was half way here when my car stopped running,” Clay said, his dark brows drawn together. “it was a hard trek. As the crow flies, it isn’t that long a distance, but coming along all the winding mountain roads, it takes one hell of a long time. I am afraid that anyone along that way will be hit. If they don’t have weapons to protect themselves and their homes, they will be casualties.”
“Ifin they’s is a starvin’, I’d ‘spect many will be tuckered out and be plumb tired afor’ they done did get here,” Boggy said shyly, clutching his coffee cup to his chest.
“True, but if they have transportation or steal it, they can be here quick,” Harry cautioned. “We have a high vantage point here and can see what is coming down the road. If they are on foot and walking the woods, I’m hoping the dogs will alert us, as well as our warning traps.”
“Gimme another day, I’s thank I’ll be fair. Right now, I’m just a little stove up fir the moment,” Earl said apologetically. He wished he could help them more now.
“There is no big rush. You just heal, Earl,” Harry said, smiling.
Earl relaxed back in his chair as he listened to everyone discuss strategies. He still could not get over the fact that the sheriff and mayor had out and out murdered people because of their color. People he’d known all his life, families that had lived in these mountains for generations. Boggy’s granny had been a swee
t and loving woman and he’d eaten many times at her table. To think that Audrey would have tried to kill her, and would try to kill Boggy, was beyond him; these were good people.
He’d known Clay all his life, remembered him from when he had been a senior in high school and the tall string bean Clay had been as a freshman, awkward and goofy. How could these people want to kill a good man? And Dr. Katie? How could they want her dead? She was kind and had always treated him with compassion, especially when he’d been injured. He’d been a little in love with her himself. He could feel a blush creeping up his face and quickly brought the coffee cup up to hide his discomfiture.
He really didn’t know what they could do. Getting rid of the KKK felt like an overwhelming task to him. Earl didn’t think he was a coward, but he was no Hieronymus Banks either. To him, Harry was larger than life. He wondered once more what his life would have been like if he’d followed Harry into the army.
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As Alan Tate walked along Beattyville Road, which was near the center of town, he saw an old couple shuffling along. Their skin hung on them liked they were walking raisins, blue veins roped their hands, and their knobby bones were sharp. He nodded politely to them. They stopped him.
“Son, you got any food on you? We’re plumb outta food,” the old man said, his old voice wavering. His old eyes looked faded like dead leaves.
“No sir, but I heared maybe that thar mayor has some. He got them thar stores safe, an’ I reckon they’s given totes of grub an’ water,” Alan told him.
Both old people made faces of sour disappointment, their lips wrinkling alarmingly. The old woman harrumphed. “That obnoxious fat man, that gluttonous bastard? Giving food away? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Thank you, son,” the old man said, reaching up and patting his ropey hand on Alan’s shoulder.
Alan watched as the old couple walked away, their slow shuffling movements painful to watch. He wondered if they would survive, and sorrow struck his young heart.
