Cole Dust Cole

by Micheal Maxwell

  May 28, 1918

  Lloyd ran off today. He said yesterday that we need to join the Army. I do not believe I shall join up. Lloyd’s pa came to our house after supper. He asked if I had seen Lloyd. I said no. He didn’t ask me if I knew where he went. So I didn’t say anything. I think my pa knew I knew where Lloyd was.

  A little later this evening my pa called me into the parlor. We had what he called a “father son” talk. It is the first time Papa has ever talked to me other than at the dinner table. He wanted me to know that I was welcome to live at home as long as I wanted. Then to my supreme shock and amazement he told me under no circumstances was I to join the Army. He said he would not have his son dying for “those sonsabitches in Washington D.C, let alone some foreigners in Europe we will never see and who could not give a good damn about us and ours.”

  I thought my father, being a strong member of the county’s Democratic Party, that Washington was as holy to him as Jerusalem was to our preacher. For the first time in a long, long time Papa said he loved me and was proud that I would be graduating. He asked if I wanted to go to college in the fall. I said I would kind of like to but wasn’t sure what to study. I told him I wanted to be a writer like Charles Dickens and he just smiled and said, “That’s a nice dream but what will you do to earn money until you get famous?” For that, I had no answer. He suggested I talk to Ezra Whitney, the publisher of the paper, about being a newspaperman.

  “Can you believe it?” Cole said as he sat straight up on the couch. “My grandfather is going to be a newspaperman!”

  “He hasn’t even applied yet,” Kelly teased. “Maybe he won’t get the job.”

  “Of course he’ll get the job, look at the way he writes; he’ll be terrific with a little guidance and training. Let’s see, where does this go...”

  Then the strangest thing, Papa asked me if there were any young ladies I had an eye for. I didn’t know what to say. I swallowed hard and said that I thought Marie Louise Nelson was very pretty. Papa sighed his knowing sigh and then said that the Nelsons were fine people but they were Catholics and it would never do to be unevenly yoked together with the daughter of a Papist. He said that we were Protestants and then something about the Nelsons praying to statues of Mary. I found it all pretty confusing. Most of all I was quite sad to find out that Marie and her family would not be going to heaven.

  Friday, June 7, 1918 GRADUATION DAY!

  Mama made me a fine breakfast this morning of pancakes with strawberry preserves and cream and a beefsteak. All the graduating class met in the auditorium and Mrs. McClarety, the music teacher, assigned us our place in line. Mr. Francine, our principle, gave a speech about finishing the job. He said that five students in our class did not pass their exams but would be allowed to retake them on June 17th. He read the names of the five kids who didn’t pass and said if we were really their friends we would encourage them to take the test again and finish the job. Lloyd was on the list.

  Coach Whitaker got up and said our country needs us and that he would be proud of all his boys if they traded in their football and baseball uniforms for army green. Otto Perkins stood and hollered, “I’m joinin’ up tomorrow, Coach!” I was glad Papa had talked to me about joining up. There is a contagious fever to join up that I think I might have caught otherwise.

  Marie Louise Nelson and Leatha Keller practiced reciting a poem about the flag. Seeing Marie Louise made me feel sad. The girl’s Glee Club sang “Faith of Our Father” and the band played.

  The best part of practice was playing field games and eating hot dogs. We were released at 3:00 and told to be back at 6:15 sharp, when they would give us our caps and gowns.

  Saturday, June 8, 1918

  After the ceremony last night we had cake and punch and Mama and Papa and Effie all gave me presents. Effie gave me a fine leather bound copy of David Copperfield, my favorite book.

  She wrote in it, “Never be mean in anything; never be false; never be cruel. Avoid those three vices, Georgie, and I can always be hopeful of you.” Truer words were never written.

  Papa gave me a beautiful fountain pen. It has a turtle shell body and a gold nib. He said all good writers need a good pen. Mama gave me a set of cufflinks with my initials on them. I am now ready to be a famous writer!

  After the party, I went with some of the boys who graduated to the Davis Ranch. There was a western band and lots of liquor. I got really drunk along with my friends. I danced and danced with all the girls. I puked a couple of times but went back and filled up again. I like whiskey better than beer I think. I don’t feel so good right now, so this will be short. Bill Davis said we were welcome back anytime and they usually had a shindig every other Friday night. “Bring a buck or a bottle” was all he asked. I can’t wait to go again. I climbed into my bedroom window just as the sun was coming up. What a party!

  Tuesday, June 18

  Lots to tell today! I went to see Mr. Whitney at the paper. He had me write a piece on an article he gave me out of the New York Times. He said my writing had promise. He spoke with Papa and would like to give me a shot at the paper. Cal Birmingham joined the Army and would be leaving after the Fourth of July. He said I could start then. I am going to be a writer!

  On the way home I went into The Sweet Shop to buy a bag of brittle to celebrate my new career. On the way out I almost bumped into Mattie, the Colored Indian girl I met after the twister. She said it was nice to see me again. I gave her some brittle and asked where she was headed. She was on her way home from the dry goods. We walked and talked and before I knew it I was at her house.

  Mattie is a very pretty girl with big dimples and a beautiful smile. Her eyes are big and the most unusual brown I have ever seen. They have little specks that look like gold. I suppose it is more like yellow but I like to think of it as gold. She is nearly as tall as I am which is uncommon for a girl. I have wondered ever since I got home what she would look like if she had a dress like Marie Louise Nelson. Her clothes are clean but they are old.

  She said a very curious thing. Her grandmother said that she saw me in a dream. On my shoulders sat an eagle and a crow. Mattie said that her grandma said the dream meant that I would bring both good and evil with me wherever I went. The dream was right after the twister. I had thought about Mattie since, several times, but hadn’t seen her. She said she wondered about me too. My pa would shit a brick if he knew I was out walking with a colored girl. But she is half Indian too. That is probably just as bad in his eyes. But I like her. We could talk all day I think. I can’t wait to see her again sometime.

  “Sounds like our boy is smitten,” Kelly interrupted.

  “Can you imagine the prejudice in those days? How is this going to play out?” Cole flipped the notebook back open and turned several pages. “It’s blank, that’s it for this one. Where’s the rest of June and July?” Cole said, closing the notebook.

  August 19, 1918

  While I was waiting for Mr. Whitney to give me an assignment, I read today’s paper. There was another article about the Spanish Influenza. The story told how three hundred soldiers at Fort Sill died. Funny, but I thought about Lloyd for the first time since he left. When I returned home, Mr. Perry was in the parlor with Mama and they were waiting for me.

  “I hear you know where my boy has gone,” Mr. Perry said to me.

  “Cole, if you know where Lloyd is, it is important you tell us.” I could tell by my mother’s voice there was no wiggle room.

  “He went to Fort Sill to join up.”

  Mr. Perry jumped to his feet and ran out the door.

  “He made me promise!” I called at his back but I don’t think he heard me.

  “Why didn’t you tell him the first time?” Mama asked.

  “Lloyd made me promise. Mr. Perry asked if I had seen him. I didn’t lie, I hadn’t seen him. Lloyd wants to be a soldier and fight in the war.”

  “For the first time in your life I am ashamed of you.” Mama stood and left the room.

  I step
ped in it this time.

  August 23

  I saw Lloyd today. His pa drove thirteen hours to Fort Sill in a wagon to get him. Mr. Perry told the captain that Lloyd lied about his age to get in and said Lloyd was only sixteen. Lloyd is so short the captain believed him. I think that he didn’t care much anyway because all his men are dying of the Spanish Flu.

  Lloyd said he was mad at first but then figured the flu might kill him before the Huns so he was glad to come home. His pa got him a job at the turkey plant. I told him about the make-up test, but he said he was done with school.

  Effie saw Mrs. Lambert, the doctor’s wife, at the dry goods. She said that the doctor has treated two families of white trash down by the depot for influenza. Effie said we should all go to stay with brother Albert in Kansas until the flu dies down. She said the Eastern papers all talk of thousands of people dying from the flu. Once it gets started it doesn’t let up. She sounded pretty scared.

  At dinner tonight Pa said we weren’t going anywhere and that it would all blow over soon. If we can survive a tornado, we can survive a few cases of the flu. Besides, the bank wouldn’t let him just up and run.

  I asked Mama, “Do you want to go?”

  “Not without you dear,” was all she said.

  September 1

  By order of the sheriff there will not be any Fourth of July Parade or Celebration this year due to the Spanish Influenza outbreak. That’s all the signs say. They are posted all over town. A lot of folks are scared. Main Street looks like a ghost town from a dime novel.

  Twenty-three people have died so far. Lots more are sick. The janitor at the bank died yesterday. His wife and one daughter already died. Papa said it was a broken heart, not the flu. I think he just told us that so we wouldn’t worry. I am worried.

  September 12

  Today is the saddest day of my life. Effie died about six o’clock this morning. She had only been sick a couple of days. She had been helping Doc Lambert. I went to my room and cried like a little baby but I don’t care. Over a hundred people have now died. I feel like it is the end of the world. I was thinking last night I wish I would just get sick and die and get over it.

  Yesterday I snuck over to the other side of town to check on Mattie and her grandma. Grandma is dead. Someone told Papa they saw me over in Nigger Town and wanted to know what I was doin’ over there. All hell broke loose when he got home. I told him that I was worried about Mattie and her grandma. He said no son of his was going to be keeping time with a nigger. I said they were nice people. He screamed and yelled for the better part of an hour. He wanted to know if I had been pokin’ Mattie. I got mad and yelled back that he was not to talk that way about her and he slapped me. I almost hit him back but remembered my place and ran up to my room and slammed the door. I heard him yell at Mama for the first time in my life. She told him to hush and remember Effie was sick. He said he didn’t give a damn, his son wasn’t going to disgrace this family by fornicating with niggers. He gives a damn now I bet.

  “Did you know about this flu epidemic?”

  “It killed more people worldwide than World War I. People had no immunity to the virus. Half the American soldiers who died in World War I died of the flu. I read once of a group of four women playing bridge one night and the next night they were all dead but one. The survival rate was really low. It struck everywhere and hit anyone, Woodrow Wilson even got it.”

  “What stopped it?”

  “Those kinds of things run a certain course. Of course quarantine, people being afraid of catching and not going out, helped. Survival of the fittest too, I guess.” Cole read again.

  September 29

  Papa and Mama are both down with the flu. It is so hot I can’t tell if I have a fever or not. Grace has been coming to look after them but sent word that she and her girls are all sick. No one will go to help anyone any more, everyone is afraid they will get sick. I gave Papa some soup this morning. Mama won’t eat and looks awful bad. She is upstairs, but when Papa came home from the bank two days ago he was too weak to get up the stairs. He has been on the chesterfield in the living room ever since. Last night about two o’clock I slipped out and went down to the river to swim and cool off. All across town there were lights on in houses, must be people up taking care of the sick.

  There have been so many people die that there are no more funerals. The preacher and the undertaker stand over the graves, say a few words and that’s it. Nobody would go to a funeral if they had one, too afraid of catching the flu.

  Just after Papa and Mama got sick I took Mattie some of the soup Grace made. Mattie said she had been feeling kind of weak and I thought the soup might help her stay strong. She is very worried about what will happen to her now that her grandmother is dead. I told her not to worry, I would help her somehow.

  September 30

  I feel very poorly today. I can hardly get up and down the stairs. Mama has been asleep for hours and didn’t wake up when I took her soup upstairs. Papa was talking crazy. He kept asking me if the Yankees had taken Vicksburg. If I get sick what will happen?

  October 3

  Mama is gone.

  October 4

  The undertaker and I were the only ones at Mama’s grave. The preacher died two days ago. I could not cry. I think I am all cried out.

  Little Faith, Hope and Grace are all gone. Charity and Pete are holding on. I took them some chicken broth I made. When I got there the door was standing open. Pete was on the floor next to Charity’s bed. I thought he was dead. He took some soup. At first he didn’t know who I was.

  Papa is still down. The undertaker helped me get him upstairs when he came for Mama. I am very worried he has lost his mind. Nothing he says makes any sense. I didn’t tell him Mama died.

  On the way home from the funeral I went to Mattie’s. She is the kindest person, next to Effie, I have ever met. We sat and talked for a while and then she started to cry. I held her in my arms and I cried too. I know that people think it is wrong for a white person to be with coloreds, but I think down deep in my heart I love her.

  October 9

  In the mail today was a letter edged in black. Maggie wrote to say that Albert and Eldon both died of the flu. She had gotten sick but was on the mend. I will write her back and tell of our loss. I am alone in our family except Papa, my blood relations are all gone with Charity being the last. I have heard Papa speak of a brother in Lawton, but I don’t know if he is alive or dead.

  Papa is very weak. Mr. Tinker, Papa’s assistant manager at the bank, came by to see how Papa was doing. Papa didn’t know who he was. We talked with Dr. Lambert and he said that the high fever affected Papa’s brain and it would take some time to heal. Mr. Tinker said he would have to report the situation to Tulsa. I think the little weasel is trying to get Papa’s job.

  It was decided that I should handle the family affairs and that Mr. Tinker would allow me access to Papa’s account until he was well. For the first time in my life I opened Papa’s desk today to look for his will. He is a man of regular habits and his desk showed his very organized mind. I found the will and I am the only one living except for my sister Gertie in Chicago. Gertie is to receive Mama’s china. I think that shall never happen.

  When Papa dies I will get the house, money in the bank and a small farm on the edge of town. This comes as a big surprise. I did not know Papa owned a farm. Tomorrow I will go and see it. There must be rent to collect.

  October 10

  Not a day I will well remember. I went to the paper and a black wreath hung on the door. Mr. Whitney succumbed to the flu and the paper would be closed until further notice. Since the pressman Henry Wagner died last week, and the typesetter three days before, I think it ill advised for me to think I will ever have a job there again.

  I decided that to clear my head and have time to think, I would ride out to see the property my father owns in the country.

  The visit to our farm is not what I would have chosen. There is a little house and a nice p
iece of ground with a spring. I almost didn’t ride out because of the rain but knew it shouldn’t be put off.

  “Do you think it’s this place?” Cole said, closing the notebook around his index finger.

  “Could be. But you said you inherited it through a cousin.”

  “I did. He would have been the grandson of the brother in Lawton.”

  “No wonder you got caught up reading these notebooks, it’s like he’s talking to us. Keep going.”

  Cole began to read again:

  I knocked on the door and no one answered. I had a bad feeling about my visit. I went around to the back of the house. The screen on the back door was open and banging against the wall. I knocked on the wall and called a hello. No one answered so I went into the kitchen. I called out once more. Still no answer.

  I felt the stove and it was cold. There was a pot of soup on it. Next to the stove was a cutting board and part of a loaf of bread. The bread was completely molded over. I went to the bottom of the stairs and called up a hello. I somehow knew what I would find if I went upstairs, but I knew if I were handling my father’s affairs it was up to me to investigate, no matter the outcome.

  At the top of the stairs I called out one last time. In the bathroom I found a man, his shirt off, lying across the tub. His skin was blue. Where his belly crossed the edge of the tub his skin was black and strangely swollen. His elbows were against the porcelain in an odd position and his forehead rested on the bottom of the tub. I could not bring myself to look at his face.