“We don’t know, but it looks like hundreds of protesters, includin’ the Black Panthers.”
The Black Panthers? Maggie? I hadn’t heard from her since she’d left for South Carolina. How would they make it here in three days? I wondered how the South Carolina protest went.
“What can we expect, in town, I mean?” my voice quaked.
“We’re gonna march down Main Street with signs and picket the businesses. None of the supporters are fixin’ to show up at work, at least none that are takin’ part in the protest.”
“They’ll shoot y’all. You know that. They hung Mr. Green; the police, they’re all part of it. I saw it. I heard it with my own ears.” Mike Taylor, who worked in the lumber mill, pulled at the straps of his overalls.
“Shot? We can’t be part of that!” The voice came from the back of the crowd.
Mr. Kane nodded. “Now, now, settle down. Mr. Taylor, you’re right, but there are a few police who aren’t tainted. And Mr. Nash is bringin’ the press, so everything will be documented. People will know.”
“But people know about everything that’s goin’ on. That doesn’t stop it from happenin’,” someone else called out.
Albert came burstin’ through the woods and into the center of the group. He bent over, out of breath. “South Carolina, the march. It—” he panted, catchin’ his breath.
“What?” I urged him.
He turned to face me. “It went real bad. Six people died. More injured.”
“Maggie? What about Maggie and Jackson?” I asked, fear snaggin’ hold of my emotions and my voice.
“Don’t know. I don’t think it’s good, though. Several men are missin’. A ton got arrested.”
A collective gasp came from the crowd, followed by a shoutin’ of questions and worried comments.
I grabbed his arm, then let it go quickly. “How’d you find this out? We have to find them.”
“Pastor Peters got a call. They’re tryin’ to track down everyone. The Panthers showed up with guns. Everything went haywire. That’s all I know.”
I grabbed hold of Mr. Kane’s arm. Guns! “What should we do? We can’t do this.”
Mama stood before Albert and set her hands on his shoulders. “Albert, listen to me. You tell me any information you get, do ya’ hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His forehead glistened with sweat, fear shadowed his eyes.
“How, Mama? How can he do that?”
“Calm down, Alison.” She turned back toward Albert. “He knows how.”
Albert nodded.
I understood that there was much I was not privy to.
“Listen, Alison, we’re goin’ home. You are not to leave the farmhouse—understood?” She turned to Mr. Kane. “Are the others ready for this?”
“Chicago, Mississippi, DC, yes, they’re all ready.”
Mama nodded, then faced the angry group. “Then, so are we. Change isn’t easy, and it’s not a game. But if we’re gonna make this happen, now’s the time.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearin’. Her daughter was missin’ and she was tellin’ everyone to risk their own lives? Why? I couldn’t see the value in the protest if death would be the outcome.
On the way back to the farmhouse I argued with Mama. “How can you tell them to do this?”
“Maggie and Jackson will be fine. Maggie promised that she wasn’t gonna get involved if things got violent. She and Jackson probably took off when things got ugly.”
Her words were confident, but in her eyes, worry swam.
“What if they didn’t? What then, Mama? What if they find Maggie and Jackson hangin’ from trees?” A cramp strangled my belly like a vice. I called out in pain.
“What is it?” Mama pulled the truck over and slammed it into park.
“Nothin’, just a cramp. I’m okay.” I breathed deeply and leaned far back in the seat, givin’ my baby as much space as I could in my tight ball of a stomach.
“Alison, this is too stressful for you. I don’t want you comin’ to these meetin’s anymore.”
“I’m fine. Let’s just get home.” Another cramp called my attention, this one not quite as strong. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths until it subsided.
By the time we reached my parents’ house a dull pain the size of Mississippi had formed in my lower back. Mama helped me inside and reminded me not to mention Maggie to Daddy. She assured me that she would let me know as soon as Albert was in contact with her.
My father was sittin’ in his chair beside the front door when we arrived. “Did Jimmy Lee call?” I asked him.
“Nope. How was Blue Bonnets?” he asked.
Mama leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Oh, just fine. You know how we women like to gab.”
“Pix, you look green around the gills, you okay?”
“Yeah, too much pastry,” I lied. “I’m gonna go upstairs and lie down.” I started up the stairs then turned and asked, “Daddy, can you please call the jail and ask if Jimmy Lee was released?” I didn’t care so much about talkin’ to him, but I did wonder if he was out of jail yet.
“Oh, he was released alright. He’s just takin’ care of things, I’d imagine.”
“How do you know?” And why the hell didn’t you tell me?
My father called over his shoulder to me. “I don’t rightly know. I just assume his uncle got him out, and frankly, it’s none of my business.”
“Urgh!” I stomped upstairs, frustration consumin’ my ability to think clearly. I went into my bedroom and shut the door.
Jake opened it behind me and slipped in. “I know where Jimmy Lee is,” he said, and closed the door behind him.
“Where?” I was too worried about Maggie and Jackson to really care where Jimmy Lee was, but I had to look like I cared, just as Mama had said.
“There’s gonna be a boycott or somethin’, and Jimmy Lee and his uncle are pullin’ together their men to snipe them as they come into town.”
Chapter Forty
Two days had passed without a word from Jimmy Lee. Mama had alerted Mr. Kane about Mr. Carlisle’s plan to shoot the protesters before they even made it into town, and he alerted the supporters, both local and out of town. I was so nervous that I could barely see straight. I jumped at every noise, and worried that Jimmy Lee had found out what I’d been up to, and I’d be the next body they found hangin’ from a tree. Without a word from Jimmy Lee, it was like waitin’ for the shoe to drop. I called Jean and asked for a bit of time off work.
“You take all the time you need, sugar,” she answered.
No sooner had I hung up the phone than it rang again.
“Alison?”
“Mr. Kane?”
“Yes, can you come over to my house with your mother? Now?”
I looked outside. Daddy was in the lower end of the fields pickin’ cotton. Mama was in her garden. “Yes, I think so. What’s happened?”
“Not on the phone. Come quick.”
I hung up the phone and went outside. My stomach began to cramp as I waddled down the hill toward Mama’s garden. I stopped to catch my breath and called out to her. Thankfully, she heard me and came runnin’ to my side. She dropped her basket when she saw me grasp my stomach.
“What is it? The baby?” She put her arm around me and held me up.
“Yes, no. Mr. Kane called. We have to go to his house right now.”
“What on earth for?” She scanned the fields.
“Daddy’s down there.” I pointed to where the men were workin’.
“Okay, I’ll leave him a note. Let’s get you inside. You can wait here.”
“No, I’m goin’.”
“Alison, you really need to get off your feet.”
“I’m goin’.”
Mrs. Kane hurried us to a small guestroom off the kitchen.
“Mama?”
Maggie! I spun around and saw Maggie’s swollen, black and blue face. Her right eye ballooned so big she could barely open it.
“Oh, m
y God, Maggie!” Mama and I ran to her. She fell into our arms and cried.
“What happened? Who did this to you?” Mama asked.
“Where’s Jackson?” I asked.
Maggie looked up as a tear fell from her good eye. Her lips trembled as she tried to find the words to tell me what her look already had.
“No, oh God. No,” I sobbed, crumplin’ onto the sofa like my bones’d gone soft.
“I’m sorry, Pixie!” Maggie reached for me.
“No!” I shoved her away. “I don’t believe it. It can’t be true,” I cried. I wrapped my arms around my belly and rocked forward and back, forward and back. “No. No,” I repeated.
Mama sat beside me on the small, brown sofa and wrapped her arms around me so tight I couldn’t escape her grasp. “Shh,” she soothed. “Shh, baby, shh.”
If hearts could shatter, I’d have shards of mine litterin’ every inch of my insides. I collapsed against Mama’s chest, the beat of her heart against my tear-soaked cheek.
“Maggie,” Mama said. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
Maggie sat down on Mama’s other side. “We were marchin’, and it was all very civilized, ya’ know? Blacks and whites, we had our signs, children even marched. Then, suddenly, from nowhere, the police came at us with these…these shields, tellin’ us to get back.” She looked up at Mama. “I swear, Mama, I stopped. Jackson did, too, but one of the Panthers, he drew a pistol. God, I had no idea they even had one; then, suddenly, there were several of ‘em with guns, and the police were beatin’ people, and I got trampled.”
“Oh, Maggie.” Mama let me go and pulled Maggie to her chest. “My poor girl.”
“What about Jackson?” I asked again.
“I don’t know. They dragged me into the woods and tied me up, said I was a nigger lover, and they…they beat me, and—” She collapsed into sobs.
“Shh, Mag, no more. You don’t have to say it.”
She pushed out of Mama’s arms. “Someone came and untied me, a woman. Then she ran off. I don’t know how long I was in the woods. I finally made my way to a shack, and this couple took me to my friend’s car. I asked if they’d seen anyone else in the woods, but they hadn’t. I went into town and asked around, but no one knew where Jackson was. There were so many people who disappeared. Some even killed. It was horrible.”
“What if he’s there, tied up, and hurt?”
Maggie shook her head. “Remember Marlo? He had a group of people search everywhere. He checked the jail, they checked the woods, the river. He said anyone who was missin’ was probably—” she choked on the last word, “dead.”
I collapsed beside her. Dead. Jackson’s dead. My body trembled. “But he’s still there? Marlo? Just in case? Right? In case they show up?”
Maggie nodded.
“Why didn’t you come home?” I asked.
“Daddy,” she said sadly.
Of course.
“What if Jackson is tryin’ to get home and can’t find Marlo?” I asked through my tears.
Maggie gave me a pity-filled look.
“We need to get you to a doctor,” Mama said.
“No, no way. They’ll figure out where I was. We can’t chance it. The boycott is tomorrow!” Beneath the battered face of my sister, determination shone.
“Oh, no, young lady. You are goin’ nowhere near that boycott.” Mama looked from her to me. “You, too. There is no way in hell any of us are goin’ anywhere near it.”
“Doc Warden is on his way over.” Mrs. Kane stood in the doorway, a mug of hot tea in her hands and concern in her eyes.
“Doc Warden?” I asked.
She nodded. “He’s one of us.”
“You said the Panthers were safe,” Mama said to Maggie. “You promised.”
“I had no idea. Really, Mama. I didn’t know they had guns.” Maggie’s bravado had been stolen from her, and it scared me.
Mama shook her head. “I never shoulda allowed this. Maggie, I’m so sorry, and now poor Patricia has to deal with losin’ Jackson.”
I felt like I was underwater. All I could hear was the slammin’ of my own heart against my ribcage. Every breath took effort. A cramp seized my belly and a crushin’ blow hit hard to my lower back.
“Mama?” I cried and bent over in pain. “Oh, God, Mama!”
“Lay back, Alison. It’s too early for the baby. This is your body reactin’ to the stress.” She turned toward Mrs. Kane. “How long ‘til Doc Warden gets here?”
“Any minute.”
Doctor Warden opened the door and motioned Mama back into the room. “I think Alison had a panic attack,” he explained, “which set off some minor contractions. Her baby is fine, but she needs rest. She has another four or five weeks to go, and I want her off her feet—completely. I gave her a mild sedative to calm her down.”
Mama gave me an I told you so look.
“If she’s anything like you, that’s what it will take to keep her down. Now, let’s take a look at Maggie, shall we?” Doctor Warden was a short, thin, bespectacled man with wisps of gray hair along the sides of his head. He squeezed my hand before leavin’ the room. I listened to their hushed voices and prayed for Jackson’s safety as I drifted off to sleep.
Light streamed through the blinds, fillin’ the tiny room where I’d fallen asleep. I sat up, my mind still groggy. The events from earlier came back in bits and pieces. Maggie, badly beaten. Jackson gone. Dead. I lay back down. Tomorrow was the boycott. None of it seemed to matter anymore. My husband was out preparin’ to kill even more people as they rallied around Forrest Town to try and make things better. Better for who? I wondered.
Maggie opened the door. She wore a patch over her eye, but looked surprisin’ly better than she had earlier. “Hi, Pix.” She sat on the sofa next to me. “Are you okay? I was so worried.”
“About me? Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I got you into this.” She played with a bracelet she wore on her left arm. “I can’t believe Jackson is gone. We never woulda gone if we’d known.”
Mention of his name brought tears. I squeezed my eyes closed against them. I was all too aware of the anger growin’ from the pain of losin’ Jackson.
“Oh, Pix. I’m sorry to upset you. Jackson was my friend, too. We’ll all miss him.”
I shook my head. “How do we keep those people from bein’ shot by Jimmy Lee and his uncle’s posse?”
“You mean the KKK assholes?” Maggie’s wit must have come back with the light of day.
I nodded.
“The network is gettin’ word out. Mr. Kane has a group goin’ miles up the highway to stop ‘em before they get close.”
“Have you talked to Patricia?”
Maggie shook her head. “Mr. Kane did.”
“How is she? I can’t stand this,” I cried. “Maggie.” I longed to tell her how much I loved Jackson. I wanted to tell her about how we used to meet by the creek, and the things he said, and the way he touched me. I wanted to pour my heart and soul into her lap and have her hold it there, safe, forever.
“Are you girls hungry?” Mrs. Kane appeared in the doorway carryin’ a tray of soup.
“No, thank you, ma’am,” I said, wishin’ she’d go away. I swallowed my emotions and knew I’d forever hold my secret.
“Yes, ma’am, I’d love some,” Maggie said, and took the bowl of soup from the tray.
Mrs. Kane disappeared back into the kitchen.
“What were you gonna say, Pix?” Maggie asked, and took a sip of the soup.
“Nothin’. I’m just scared for everyone, and now we’re stuck here doin’ nothin’. Where’s Mama?”
“She had to go home. She’s tellin’ Daddy that you’re back at your apartment.”
“Are we stayin’ here?”
Maggie nodded. “She thought it was safer than goin’ back home and raisin’ questions with Daddy.”
“Do you think they’ll reach ‘em in time?” I sat up
next to Maggie and leaned against the back of the sofa.
“Yeah, they will.”
“But what then? Will they call it off?”
Maggie shook her head.
“But—”
“Mr. Kane said they’ll let ‘em believe the boycott is called off, and then they’ll show up.”
“But it’s too dangerous!” I envisioned Mr. Nash gettin’ shot in his car, Bear and the others dead in the backseat. “Is Darla comin’?”
Maggie nodded. “Everyone’s comin’.”
“Except Jackson,” I said, and closed my eyes against the now familiar wave of sadness before it swallowed me whole.
Chapter Forty-One
Maggie and I had been ordered to remain at the Kane’s house until Mama came for us, when it was safe. We sat in the livin’ room listenin’ to Mr. Kane on the telephone, as he gave directions to the contacts for each of the travelin’ groups. Mr. Kane’s long-time friend was one of the police officers who arrested Jimmy Lee, and he’d confided in Mr. Kane about the timin’ of the sniper-style massacre that awaited the protesters.
“That’s right, they’re expectin’ you at ten o’clock, three hours from now. Hang back ‘til at least five in the afternoon. By then, they’ll figure you gave up, and I’ll make sure that’s what they think.” He paused. “Mm-hmm. Tell them, too. Any word from South Carolina?” Mr. Kane sighed. “Okay, yeah, we have that covered.”
“What’s gonna happen to everyone here? Did they go to work today?” I felt out of the loop since losin’ half the day to sleep yesterday. Maggie’s bruises were turnin’ a ghostly green and yellow. The swellin’ around her eye had gone down significantly from the ice Mrs. Kane had insisted upon.
“They’re actin’ like it’s a normal workday. When the protesters come, that’s when they’ll leave.”
“What about Patricia?”
His eyes softened. “She’s angry and scared, but more than anything, she’s grievin’. There’s been a lot of death around that poor woman lately. Mr. Green was a close friend of their family’s.”
Mrs. Kane stood with one hand on the couch, one hand on her ample hip.
Have No Shame Page 20