The Clash Between the Minds Page 6

  Faith cleaned Benjamin's face and propped the ice next to his cheek and eye. Then she shooed everyone out and left him alone. He could tell them the details later. For the moment, his most important need was rest.

  They all settled around the kitchen table, and Velia poured coffee for them.

  "Velia," Sarah said, "let's hold off on supper for about fifteen minutes. Give everyone a chance to settle down." She turned to Faith who sat next to her. "Are you all right?" she asked in a soft voice. She leaned over and put her arm around Faith as tears welled from Faith's eyes.

  "I will be. Who could have done this to Benjamin? And why?" Faith sniffled, and Sarah removed a clean handkerchief from her pants pocket and handed it to her.

  "I think we both know why," Sarah said. "But let's wait until Benjamin feels up to explaining. No sense in going off half cocked. Maybe there's no connection with the article."

  When she saw the puzzled look that passed from Noah to Velia, she told them about the KKK article. They both looked stricken. "That settles it," Noah said. "We's goin' to leave tomorrow."

  The remark startled Sarah, and Faith pulled the handkerchief away from her face. "You don't have to leave," Sarah said. "Don't let this run you off."

  "Really." Faith dabbed at her eyes. "This trouble isn't because of you."

  "Part of it is," Noah said. "Velia and I's been talkin' it over, we thinks you'd be safer without us here. We's mighty grateful for everythin' you've done, but we's already decided to leave. Tomorrow, we's gone."

  'But—" Faith started to protest, but Sarah quieted her with a squeeze to her arm.

  'They've made the decision they think is best, and we need to honor that. It's not up to us to plead for them to stay."

  "Thank you, ma'am," Noah said. "Thank both of you for everythin' you done for us. We think there's a spot somewhere where people can go about their business without being afraid of every shadow. And we aims to find that spot."

  "I hope you can," Faith said. "Keep in touch with us, and let us know if you ever find it."

  "We'll do that, ma'am." Noah looked toward Velia, who nodded.

  "We will," she said. "Thank you both. I's sorry to leave, and so is Daniel, but it's time."

  "It's also time for supper," Faith said. "Let's consider this one special."

  The next morning, Benjamin felt well enough to get up and everyone passed around hugs, good wishes, and promises to keep in touch. Noah's family left on foot, the same as they had arrived in the area, carrying their belongings in canvas bags that Velia and Daniel toted. Each of them wore a new coat that Sarah had insisted on buying for them soon after they had arrived.

  "I'm going to miss them," Faith said with moist eyes. "They've been good friends."

  "Yes, they have." Sarah looked toward the family walking down the trail away from them. "I hope they can find a place where they can live without fear. They deserve better treatment than they got here."

  In a few days, Benjamin's injuries had healed. On Saturday, he and Sarah worked together mucking the stalls.

  When they finished, Sarah stopped for a moment and leaned on the rake. "Benjamin, I've been thinking you need to learn to defend yourself."

  Benjamin either grunted or gave a short laugh. Sarah couldn't tell which, but he answered her. "That's not news to me, Aunt Sarah. I didn't even get a good punch in."

  "Who did this to you?"

  "Hiram Blanton and Roscoe Fields. But please don't tell Mama. This is between them and me."

  "All right." Sarah pointed to the center of the barn. "Let's clear off that spot, and I'll give a try at teaching you how to block punches and punch back."

  "You know about that?"

  "The men in the camps often boxed each other just for entertainment. I watched them and picked up a lot of ideas."

  Sarah spent three sessions, on three separate days, showing Benjamin the rudiments of self-defense. Then she worked with him for a few days on throwing single punches and combinations. He learned quickly. One day, one of his punches landed on Sarah's eye. She grabbed it with both hands.

  "Oh, Aunt Sarah, I'm sorry."

  "It's all right. But I bet I'll have a colorful bruise for a while. Good punch. You really made a quick fake and follow-up, and I fell for it."

  "Mama's going to kill me for hurting you."

  "No she won't. I'll explain you didn't mean it."

  He took hold of Sarah's arm, and she dropped her hands from her face. "Let's go in and I'll get some ice for you," he said.

  Sarah let him lead her into the house. She hoped allowing him to help her would ease some of his guilt. She sat at the kitchen table. Benjamin chipped some ice from the block in the icebox, wrapped the pieces in a washrag, and handed it to her.

  She closed her eyes and held the ice over the sore one. The cold compress felt good. Benjamin had really stung her. The thought brought a smile of pride in him in spite of her pain.

  "What's wrong? What happened?" Faith's voice jolted Sarah, and her good eye flew open.

  Benjamin answered first. "I accidentally hit Aunt Sarah in the eye."

  "Accidentally?" Faith frowned. She hurried over to Sarah, gently lifted Sarah's hand, and inspected the damage. "That looks Pretty nasty. What did he hit you with?"

  "Uh. His fist."

  "His fist!" Faith whirled toward Benjamin. "What were you thinking? Why would you hit Aunt Sarah?"

  "Wait," Sarah said. "It was my fault. I've been teaching him how to defend himself, and I didn't duck in time."

  Faith reacted like a puffed up balloon that quickly deflated. She pulled out a chair and sat. She rested her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands. In a voice that sounded nearly toneless, she said, "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, do you really think fighting is the answer to everything?"

  Sarah's voice took on an edge. "When a bully beats the hell out of you, yes, I think you have to learn to fight back. That's the only language a bully understands."

  Faith let go with one of her hands and, still resting her head on the other, turned toward Sarah. "If you don't fight back, a bully has nothing to brag about and eventually will stop beating on you."

  "Eventually? Apparently you don't know bullies like those I've known. If you don't fight back, they think you're a coward, and they'll pick on you unmercifully. I don't want to find Benjamin bleeding alongside the road every other day or so."

  Faith let out a long sigh. "I don't want that either, but I don't want him to be taught that fighting is the best option. I want these lessons to stop." She raised her head and looked directly at Sarah. "Immediately. Is that clear?"

  Sarah shook her head no, but she said, "Yes."

  Faith switched her gaze. "Benjamin? Do you understand you'll take no more lessons on fighting?"

  Benjamin appeared to be disappointed and confused as he looked from Faith to Sarah and back to Faith, before he said, "Yes, Mama."

  Sarah began taking Faith and Benjamin to school in the morning and picking them up after school in the afternoon. The next few days passed without incident for Benjamin, other than having to put up with surreptitious taunts. Sarah hoped that Faith was right about the school bullies giving up on beating him.

  Meanwhile, the newspaper reported that another Klan attack occurred in the next county. Witnesses said a house was set on fire by white-robed figures. The occupants escaped, but they lost their home and possessions. Another article spoke about a proposed act to stop the violence occurring in many states as white groups persecuted colored men and those who helped them. Faith pointed it out to Sarah.

  "Maybe this will stop the Klan if it passes," she said.

  Sarah snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it. The other government acts haven't helped."

  On the way to school, Faith was near tears when she spoke to Sarah about the first article. "Wouldn't you think the town council would halt the parade? But I'm sure they won't. The whole town's excited and abuzz with talk about it. Even the schoolchildren are bouncing up and down over
it."

  "Maybe," Sarah said, "the time they spend in the parade and preparing for it will keep the Klan from brutalizing innocent people for a while." She stopped at the school and helped Faith down from the wagon while Benjamin jumped down and mingled with the children playing in the schoolyard.

  Faith stood there for a moment and put a hand on Sarah's arm. "I keep forgetting to ask you whether you've finished your Bull Run project."

  "Not quite. I need to polish up some sketches and write the last chapter. Maybe I can finish it today."

  Faith rubbed Sarah's arm and let go of it. "Good. I'll see you this afternoon."

  Sarah climbed back into the wagon and watched Faith walk across the yard toward the wooden school building. The morning sun peeked through fluffy clouds and reflected from Faith's hair, making her stand out from the small children who gathered around her. The simple beauty of the scene warmed Sarah all the way home.

  Sarah did manage to finish her story and fill in the accompanying sketches. She gathered the material from her drawing area, took it into the office, and inserted it into a large Manila envelope. She propped it on the desk, against the wall, with the intention of mailing it the next day.

  Just in time, she thought as she looked at the clock. She washed her hands and face at the kitchen sink pump and strode outside. She hitched Drummer to the wagon and headed toward the school.

  When she arrived, school had let out. On her way in, she passed the last of the children leaving the yard. She pulled on the brake, wound the reins around the brake pole, and climbed down to work the kinks out of her legs. She stepped next to Drummer to pat him on the neck. Before she touched him, something smashed into the back of her head. That was the last she remembered.

  Less than a minute later, Benjamin came out the school door. "Aunt Sarah," he called and loped over to the wagon. Curious as to why Sarah wasn't there, he looked around and saw Sarah's hat lying under the wagon. He picked it up, dusted it against his leg, and set it on the wagon seat, puzzled as to how it got on the ground. Looking toward the woods, he noticed some of the brush had been knocked down. With his gaze down to read the sign, he stepped into the woods. Something struck the side of his head. Multicolored bursts streaked behind his eyes. His legs buckled, and he sank to the ground.

  Faith brushed chalk dust from her hands and her dress as she went outside. She looked up and saw their wagon near the woods, but neither Sarah nor Benjamin was in it. "Sarah!" she called. "Benjamin!" When no one answered, she ran to the wagon and saw Sarah's hat on the seat. Sarah would never have left her hat behind willingly. Faith looked toward the woods. Some brush had been knocked down. Faith clapped a hand to her chest as her heart thudded in fear. Without a doubt, something bad had happened.

  She scrambled into the wagon and took off the brake. Headed toward downtown, she urged Drummer at a gallop for the sheriff's office.

  After pulling Drummer to a stop in front of the office, she yanked on the brake pole and swirled the reins around it. Dismissing the stares of curious passersby, she dashed into the office, only to learn that Sheriff Schmidt had been called away. Deputy Bartell, the one left in charge, seemed oblivious to Faith's distress. "I'm telling you, Mrs. Pruitt, I don't know when the sheriff will be back, and I can't leave the office until he returns." His lip curled. "Maybe your...friend...just took a walk in the woods."

  "She wouldn't do that. She came to pick me up and take me and my son, Benjamin, home. Benjamin's missing, too. Isn't anyone else available?" The door between the office and the jail cells was open, and Faith could see another deputy sitting on a chair talking to a prisoner. She pointed to him. "How about Deputy Turner?"

  Bartell didn't even turn around. "He's off duty."

  Faith finally got the message. They weren't going to do anything to help her. She walked out of the office onto the boardwalk. She wanted to cry with frustration, but that wouldn't do any good. She stood there trying to compose herself. Who could she turn to? Her gaze fell on a sign across the street, a few doors up. Phillip Showell, Construction. She ran diagonally across the street to Phillip's office. When she reached the door, she saw the Closed placard. Her heart fell. She ran back to the wagon, climbed onto it, and released the brake. She shook the reins and guided Drummer toward Phillip and Leah's residence. About three blocks from the center of town, the white clapboard house sat on a dirt side street. The yellowing leaves of a willow tree in the short front yard swayed slightly in the breeze.

  Leah answered Faith's knock on the door and pulled it wide. "Hello. Come on in." She craned her neck to look past Faith. "Sarah's not with you?"

  "No, she's missing. So's Benjamin."

  "Missing?" Leah looked startled, and she touched Faith's arm. "Come sit in the living room and tell me what's wrong."

  Faith stepped in and followed Leah to a seat on the sofa. "Sarah came to pick us up after school. When I went outside, the wagon was there, but she and Benjamin were missing. I looked along the edge of the woods, and I could see a spot that looked beaten down, as though someone had been dragged away. I think they've been kidnapped."

  Leah gasped. "Did you tell the sheriff?"

  Faith was so distraught she could hardly sit still. "Sheriff Schmidt wasn't in, and that sniveling Deputy Bartell wouldn't do anything. Said he had to stay there until the sheriff got back, even though Deputy Turner was there, too. I'm at my wits' end about what to do. Is Phillip here?"

  Deep concern covered Leah's expression. "No. He's about twenty miles away giving a price on some work. I can't think of anything to help you except maybe waiting for the sheriff to get back. Did the deputy say when he might be expected?"

  Faith pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. "No."

  "Do you have any idea what might have happened?"

  Faith twisted the handkerchief as she spoke. "I'm afraid Ku Klux Klan members from town might be behind this. Sarah and I, and even Benjamin, have had remarks made to us. Not only for helping Noah's family, but also for Sarah dressing like a man. It doesn't help that the notice about the Klan parade included a mention of performing acts that they would approve of."

  Faith stood. "I have to go again and check with the sheriff. Maybe he's back by now, and if not, I'll camp there until he is."

  Leah rose, too, and walked with Faith to the door. "I hope he's there for you. Please let us know what happens."

  "I'll do that. Goodbye."

  When Faith entered the sheriff's office once more, she breathed a huge sigh of relief when she saw Sheriff Schmidt. "Thank God, you're here."

  "Just this minute got back," Schmidt said. "What can I do for you?"

  Quickly, she repeated the situation.

  Schmidt grabbed his hat and yelled for two of the three deputies who now were in the building to come with him. "You go on home, Mrs. Pruitt. We'll get word to you as soon as we find anything."

  "Thank you, Sheriff." Faith went outside, and the sheriff and his two deputies followed right behind her. She sat in the wagon until she saw them ride toward the school. Then she went home to a very empty house.

  She went inside, stirred up the coals in the stove, and added several sticks to build up the fire. After pumping water into the teakettle and setting it over the flame, she gathered the makings together. When her tea was ready, she sat at the table and sipped at it.

  The homey activity helped keep her mind off the situation, but now she felt overwhelmed with worry. Where could Sarah and Benjamin be? Who had them? Was it the Klan? What would happen to them? Would they be whipped like Noah had been? Or worse? Horrible pictures tumbled over and over through her mind.

  The teacup rattled as she put it down with shaking hands. She looked at the chairs around the table where Sarah and Benjamin should be sitting right now for supper.

  Please, dear God, bring them home safe. She pushed the tea away, laid her head on her arms, and cried.

  Chapter Four

  Oh...my...God. Sarah's head was a glass ball that had broken in
to a million shards. And every single one of them hurt like hell. She blinked her eyes partly open. When she saw only black, she opened them the rest of the way and hoped she wasn't blind. She moved her head and immediately felt queasy. A groan escaped, and she swallowed hard.

  "Aunt Sarah?"

  Benjamin! To the right and behind her. Sarah tried to reach out and suddenly realized she was tied hand and foot. What was going on? "Benjamin? Where are you? Can you see me?"

  "I'm here near you, Aunt Sarah, but I can't see you. We're someplace very dark."

  Sarah smelled musty earth, and her hands felt dirt beneath her. "I think we're in a cave. Are you all right?"

  "My head hurts a lot. Someone hit me on the side of it."

  "Do you know what happened?"

  "I came out of school, and you weren't there, but your hat was under the wagon." Benjamin's voice started out sounding shaky, but it firmed as he spoke. "I thought you might have been dragged into the woods, and I started to follow the trail. I took about two steps and got hit. I didn't know anything else until I woke up right before I heard you. I'm all tied up. Are you all right?"

  "Like you, my head hurts and I'm tied up. Can you roll over here so your back's next to mine? Maybe I can untie you."

  She heard Benjamin moving but then other noises sounded from the opposite direction. Muffled voices came toward them. "The Klan will like this," one said.

  "Yeah, they'll take us in for sure," another said.

  Sarah saw a light approaching. A figure dressed in a white sheet and wearing a pillowcase over his head carried an oil lamp into what Sarah could now see was a cave, as she had guessed. Another figure appeared right behind the first.

  "Well, well," Sarah said. "If it isn't our big brave Ku Klux Klansmen. Picking on women and children."

  The one in front walked over to her, set the oil lamp on the ground, and kicked her in the ribs. "Shut up, bitch," he said in a raspy attempt at disguising his voice. "Trying to act like a man? You ain't got no balls." He grabbed his crotch. "I'll show you how to use what you do got."