Circle of Fire (Mysteries through History)

by Evelyn Coleman

  “Well, I got bigger problems.” Then she told him about finding the cigar and lighter in the Taj Mahal and what had happened to Mr. Hare. She told him about Aunt Sis hiding in the cave, and about the white-robed men in the woods shouting about Myles Horton. “You got any notions about all this?”

  “It’s the same thing,” he said. “It’s the same as about me and you.”

  “Me and you? What do you mean?”

  “I mean those men are mad at Myles Horton because he lets whites and coloreds go to school together and do stuff together on his property And …” Jeffrey hesitated, a red flush creeping up his face. “And, well, our folks don’t want us together because whites and coloreds ain’t supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  “Boyfriend and girlfriend? We ain’t no such thing. Who said that?” Mendy said, frowning up.

  “I ain’t saying we’re boyfriend and girlfriend—but some people are saying it.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would anybody say that? We’ve been best friends since we were four and five years old. Why, my daddy pulled your teeth out for you. And your ma made my first Sunday communion dress. Your daddy helped build us a tree house. Ain’t nobody that stupid to say we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. We’re like brother and sister. We’re blood sister and brother, remember? At least we used to be.”

  Jeffrey hit his hand against the tree trunk. “Look, how old are you?” he asked.

  “Don’t be stupid. You know I’m twelve going on thirteen.”

  “And I’m fourteen. You know that means we’re growing up.”

  “So?” Mendy said.

  “So you don’t get it, do you? Our parents think we do more than play when we’re together—now.”

  “They’re right,” she said, scowling. “We do. We argue a lot more.”

  “Girl, wake up. They think we been kissing and stuff.”

  “Kissing?” She spit on the ground. “Ain’t nobody in their right mind think we been kissing. Are you crazy? I ain’t never even thought about kissing no boy. Why, if a boy tried to kiss me, I’d pop him upside the head. Yuck.”

  Jeffrey shook his head. He picked up a rock and threw it. A tree on the other side of the spring shook.

  “You’re serious, ain’t you?” Mendy said, recognizing the worried look on his face. “That’s what this is about? Well, I still don’t see what that has to do with the Highlander School.”

  “Think about it, Mend. Folks are mad at Mr. Horton ’cause he lets whites and coloreds eat together and sleep in the same buildings. He up and hired a colored woman as the head teacher. Shoot, my ma heard he even lets coloreds swim with whites in the pond out there.”

  “That part is true,” Mendy said, and immediately she regretted it. She remembered, too late, that Daddy had said not to tell anybody about the swimming at Highlander.

  “You know good and well,” Jeffrey continued, “it’s illegal in Tennessee for whites and coloreds to do that kind of thing together. Ma says the law’s going to start cracking down on white people who act like they love niggers.”

  Mendy’s head shot up, her eyes glaring at Jeffrey. “What did you just say?”

  “I ain’t mean no harm. I was just telling you what Ma said, that’s all.”

  Mendy stood up. Her stomach burned, like hot coals were steaming inside. No one had ever said that word to her face before. It made her furious. She wasn’t even sure why. “Don’t you ever say that word in front of me again,” Mendy said through clenched teeth, her fists balled up. “You hear me?”

  “Mend, I won’t. But you live in a dream world. You don’t know what it’s like to have people picking on you ’cause you like the coloreds.”

  Mendy sat back down. All the air seemed to go out of her in a whoosh. She hadn’t ever considered that people would pick on someone just for being friends with her. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to be friends ever again,” Mendy said. “You said so yourself.”

  “See, now you’ve gone and made me hurt you. Mend, please. Let’s just deal with your problem right now. Actually, your problem is my problem—we’re blood sister and brother, right?” He held out his hand for their secret handshake.

  As Mendy took it, she looked at his hand next to hers. She’d never thought about him as a white boy before. Until now, he had always been just Jeffrey.

  Jeffrey said, “Those men in the clearing, they’re the KKK—the Ku Klux Klan.”

  “What do they do?” Mendy asked. Deep in the back of her mind, she remembered hearing her parents whispering something about the KKK.

  “They don’t like colored people. They threaten and hurt coloreds. They burn crosses in front of coloreds’ houses to scare them if they get out of line.” Jeffrey dropped his head. “They have hung coloreds, too. My daddy told me all about them. His daddy used to be one of ’em.”

  Mendy felt sick. This all sounded unbelievable to her. Why hadn’t anyone ever told her any of this? “Jeffrey, have you seen this symbol of theirs—a circle with a cross inside it?” Mendy asked. “Do you know what it means?”

  “That’s the Cross Wheel. It’s supposed to be the Christian cross in a circle of light. They also have the Blood Drop symbol that represents the blood of Jesus Christ. They say he was sacrificed for the white race.” Jeffrey’s voice was very small.

  “Christian? Are you saying they’re Christians?”

  Jeffrey said, “They say they are.”

  “So why do they wear robes and pointed hats like that?” Mendy asked.

  “It’s so people won’t know who they are, because the Klan’s supposed to be a secret thing. And because, well, it ought to be that they are ashamed.”

  Mendy stared down at the dirt. She watched an ant crawl past her shoe. Finally she looked up at Jeffrey and said, “This sounds so scary to me.”

  “It is scary This ain’t nothing to play with,” Jeffrey said.

  “I’m worried about Mr. Horton, Jeffrey. And I’m worried about Aunt Sis. Maybe those men will try to bother her again.”

  “I don’t know, Mend. But if they did, it would be at night. They mostly ‘ride’ at nighttime.”

  “Then we need to talk to Aunt Sis. We better warn her while she’s in her right mind.”

  They walked to Aunt Sis’s without much talking. Twice they had to duck down off the road so nobody would see them together. Mendy tried to figure out why her daddy and mama hadn’t told her all this themselves. But deep down, she knew. They were always trying to protect her from every hurt.

  Aunt Sis was shading under the crabapple tree when they walked up. “Howdy, Mendy,” she said, just like everything was normal. “Come sit a spell. Rest your feet. Who’s that handsome young’un with you? Lord, that’s the Whitehall boy, ain’t it? You done growed up. I knows your whole family, boy. Come sit and talk to Aunt Sis,” she said, patting a spot on the ground next to her.

  Mendy said, “Aunt Sis, we have something serious to ask you about.”

  “Gw’on and ask hit,” she said.

  Mendy said, “Do you know anything about the KKK?”

  “Sure I do. They meetin’ in them woods over yonder. I know ’cause I heard noise and went to look. They seen me eyeing ’em. They come after me, too. Not ’fore I took one they stinking flags, though. Now I can’t find it nohow, but I coulda swore I took it. I ain’t even sure how I got home. I don’ reckon they knew it was me, though, since they ain’t come here yet.” Aunt Sis paused and brushed a hand over her eyes. “Or maybe I only dreamed it. Maybe I ain’t seen ’em a’tall, child.”

  Now Mendy understood what had happened. She said, “No, Aunt Sis. You saw ’em. I found you that night, hiding in a cave. I took the cloth from you and put you to bed.”

  “So ’tis true. Lord, child, I done almost thought I was off on one of my spells. Lordy, Lordy.”

  Jeffrey asked, “You know who any of those men were?”

  “How I know? They’s covering their cowardly faces. One of them’s got a ring, though�
��big old silver ring with some triangle on it. I ain’t forgetting that ring.”

  “I saw that ring!” Mendy said, remembering how it had glinted in the firelight. She’d almost forgotten that. She’d seen the ring and the man’s shoes really good. “Aunt Sis,” she said, “did you hear those men say anything about the Highlander School?”

  “Yes’m. Scare me out of my wits, it did. They’s gon’ try something bye and bye.”

  Mendy’s heart raced. “What do you mean, Aunt Sis?” Was the Klan planning something against Mr. Horton for real? Mendy felt fear grip her stomach. She and Jeffrey exchanged glances, and she could tell that Jeffrey was scared, too.

  But when Mendy turned back to Aunt Sis, a faraway look had come over her face. “Caleb, you hungry?” Aunt Sis asked Jeffrey. “That’s you, ain’t it, Caleb?”

  Jeffrey looked puzzled.

  “Don’t worry,” Mendy whispered to him. “She’ll be all right. She’s just a little confused right now.” Mendy took Aunt Sis’s hand. “Aunt Sis,” she said, “Caleb’s not here. This is Jeffrey.”

  “Lord, Caleb, you gon’ run, ain’t you? I see it in your face. Freedom coming soon.”

  “Let’s go,” Mendy said. “She’ll be all right. She goes in and out like that, but she always comes back. Don’t you, Aunt Sis?” Then Mendy looked into Aunt Sis’s eyes. “And they won’t bother you, Aunt Sis. I’m going to see to that.” Mendy made up her mind. She would find out who those men were and make sure they got arrested before they hurt Aunt Sis or Mr. Horton.

  Mendy and Jeffrey left Aunt Sis smiling under the apple tree.

  CHAPTER 7

  CIRCLE OF FIRE

  I’m going to do something to stop them,” Mendy said as she and Jeffrey walked from Aunt Sis’s toward the clearing.

  “You mean we’re going to do something, Mend.”

  “Good. You’re in,” Mendy said. “I think it’s time we tell someone.”

  Jeffrey bit his lip. “I suppose we could tell my pa.”

  “But then he’ll know we’ve been together. You might even get sent to that boys’ school. I think we should tell the sheriff.”

  “Mend, what can we tell him? We don’t really know what the Klan is planning, and we don’t know who’s involved. It’s dangerous messing with the Klan. If we start accusing people without proof, our families could end up with crosses burning in the yard. Or worse.”

  “We’ll just have to find out who the men are, then, and what they’re up to.”

  “And how are we supposed to find that out, Mend? Ask them?”

  “No. We need to spy on them next time they meet,” Mendy said. “We can try to make out who they are. They might even take them hoods off. Maybe they’ll talk about what they’re planning on doing up at Highlander.”

  “I don’t know, Mend. If they catch us spying, they might hurt us bad.”

  “If they catch us. But they ain’t gonna see us. We know how to stay hidden in the woods.”

  “Have you forgot we ain’t supposed to even be on Jeb Connor’s land?” Jeffrey reminded Mendy. “If we do see something, we can’t tell it.”

  “What’s gotten into you? We don’t have a choice. Daddy says if you see something wrong, it ain’t right to do nothing.”

  “Yeah, but this is dangerous. We’re just kids.”

  “Then stay here. Don’t come with me,” Mendy said, marching off into the woods.

  Jeffrey raced after her.

  When they reached the clearing, they were both out of breath. And the choking sulfur in the air made it even harder for them to breathe.

  Mendy didn’t need to check her trap—the skunk had sprayed. She didn’t know when the skunk had sprayed, or why. But if it had sprayed while still in the trap, then whoever had picked up the bowie knife would be marked with skunk scent for days. If Mendy or Jeffrey met up with him anywhere, they’d know who he was for sure.

  Before they left the clearing, Mendy and Jeffrey vowed to meet late that night at the edge of Jeb Connor’s woods. They’d meet every night at the same time until the men returned to the clearing. They had to find out who the men were and tell the sheriff before Aunt Sis, Mr. Horton, or somebody else got hurt.

  That evening Mendy leafed through her scrapbook, looking for courage. Her eyes landed on one of Mrs. Roosevelt’s sayings that Mendy had never noticed before:

  Discrimination does something intangible and harmful to the souls of both white and colored people.

  Mendy thought about the words. Then, just below them, she wrote words of her own:

  Today I learned more about people in the world. Mama always said she wanted to protect me from everything and I was never sure what she meant. But now I think she was talking about the meanness people do if you ain’t the same color they are. It doesn’t seem right. Maybe that’s what Daddy learned about in the war.

  Maybe Daddy learned we should all be treated the same. That’s probably why he likes Mr. Myles Horton so much. Mr. Horton treats Daddy like he’s just as good as any of the whites. Mr. Horton was the only white person around here who hired Daddy to do his plumbing. But now maybe I kind of understand Mama a little. She was scared I might get hurt. Maybe Mama does love me.

  Mendy sneaked out later that night and met up with Jeffrey. They went to the woods, but the men did not come. The next three nights were the same. Nothing.

  On Friday, when the moonlight danced on the trees and the mockingbird stopped singing, Mendy sneaked out again. The house was completely quiet and Daddy wasn’t home yet. He’d called and said his job in Chattanooga was taking longer than he’d expected.

  As Mendy neared Mr. Connor’s woods, she saw puffs of smoke rising up out of the trees. The men were back.

  Mendy met Jeffrey at the edge of the woods and they hurried on together. They moved quietly through the underbrush, staying off the path to keep themselves hidden. The woods smelled pretty, fragranced with moonflower and honeysuckle.

  Nearer to the Taj, the smell of smoke filled their lungs. Mendy and Jeffrey smeared mud on their hands and faces for camouflage and crept on. When the clearing came into view, Mendy almost stopped breathing out of fear. This was no game, like the cowboys and Indians she and Jeffrey used to play. This was real.

  The crowd was bigger than before. There were at least fifteen white-robed men standing in a circle, maybe more. A few held up white flags with the red Cross Wheel. Tonight two men waved Confederate flags, and others held flaming torches high above their heads.

  In the center of the clearing, Mendy could see a large wooden cross wrapped in white rags. Sticks were piled under it like a bonfire waiting to be lit. A man standing near it began yelling into a megaphone, “White is Right!” The other men pumped their fists into the air and shouted, “White is Right! White is Right! White is Right!”

  Mendy couldn’t see them clearly from her hiding place in the brush. She moved a few inches to the left, then a few more inches, closer and closer. She was almost at the edge of the path now, but at least some of the men were more visible.

  One man yelled, “So what are we going to do about the commie witch?”

  A lump as big as a bullfrog hopped into Mendy’s throat. Who were they talking about? Mendy moved even closer to the path.

  “I say a bunch of us ride out there and smash up the place.”

  Another man shouted, “No! We oughta burn a cross up at the Highlander to let them know we don’t like it none. Give ’em a warning.”

  The man in the center said, “As the Exalted Cyclops of Dayton Klavern, I say we do nothing. Ain’t no call to make ourselves exposed over no dang woman givin’ a commie speech.”

  Mendy’s eyes burned with tears. It couldn’t be. They couldn’t be talking about her.

  “Well, I don’t agree,” another voice shouted. “I say we stop the speech, even if we have to blow the place up. Some of us is already planning, and we aim to do it. If any you boys wanna join us, just let me know. It’s about time for fireworks ’round here.”
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br />   A loud, foot-stomping cheer went up in the air. Dust devils, weirdly lit by the fire, caught in the air and whirled off into the bushes.

  It took everything in Mendy’s body not to gasp out loud. They were planning to bomb the Highlander Folk School while Mrs. Roosevelt was there!

  When the cheering died down, the man with the megaphone ordered, “Circle formation. Dress right dress.” The men stood up straight and made their circle even wider. Each man put his right hand out to touch the shoulder of the next person. It looked like a military drill.

  Mendy watched, terrified by what she had heard. She had to keep the bombing from happening. Mendy tried to identify the man closest to her. Even through his white sheet, the silhouette seemed familiar somehow. She tried to get a look at his shoes, but she couldn’t. Then she had a stroke of luck. The men began marching in a circle, chanting.

  Slowly, each man passed into Mendy’s view, only a few yards away. Though Mendy could see only the men’s hands and shoes, she tried to find something unique that she could remember about each person. One man’s nails had been bitten down to the nub. Another’s hands were so filthy it looked like dirt was ground into his skin all the way past his wrists, and his brogans were like her daddy’s but dustier, and one of the laces was knotted together where it had broken. Another man had long, thin fingernails like a woman’s. Mendy recorded these details in her mind as the men marched round and round chanting “White Rule!” and pumping their fists into the air.

  The blazing torches sent reflections dancing in the trees like the shadows of angels. Dust billowed up around the marchers’ feet. The air hung heavy, like it could stop a body from breathing.

  Mendy’s position, almost out in the open, meant she could not move or even flinch without giving herself away, but her insides vibrated with fear. Mendy wanted to give Jeffrey a signal that she was all right but she dared not. Her throat felt parched from the dust swirling in the air. She prayed she would not have to cough.

  Suddenly the man with the megaphone barked, “About, face,” and the men turned toward her. Then came the order, “Column. Right. March.” The men formed a line and began to march toward the path.