“Yes, sir. I trained down in Tuskegee with the 332nd.”
“That’s…that’s the Purple Heart you got there. And…” I looked more closely. “And the Distinguished Flying Cross.”
“Yes, sir.”
Then I noticed the black bar with red, white, and blue stripes on the ends. “You were a prisoner of war?”
“Yes, sir. About a year ago, my plane caught fire, and I had to bale out over Yugoslavia. Nazis got me two days later, and I spent the rest of the war in a prison camp.”
I stood there in shock, taking in the young man I’d known as a boy. I hadn’t seen him since he was ten years old. Back then, he’d been afraid of his own shadow, jumpy and suspicious of me. Now, he stood tall and dignified, though he still held an air of suspicion about him.
“So, Mr. Pierce tells me you want to talk to me,” I said. “You want to come sit at the table?”
“This won’t take long, Major Doyle. It is Major, correct?”
“Yes, but I’m not in the army anymore. You can just call me Matthew.”
I glanced at Stanley, who walked over and took a seat in the rocking chair near the fireplace. He didn’t say anything, just seemed content to watch with a fascinated expression.
Samuel cleared his throat and fidgeted with his cap. “Maj—I mean, Matthew, I read about what’s happened to Miss Ruby in the papers. How she’s been alive all this time and came forward to turn herself in. I was recovering in the hospital when I saw an article about it in the local paper. I couldn’t hardly believe it. Mama told me what happened after Ruby’s trial back in ’36, and I just felt awful about it. I never shoulda run off like I did. I was scared, and I just done what Miss Ruby told me to do. But it was wrong. I know that now.”
“Samuel, are you saying you want to come forward and tell everyone the truth?”
“Yes, sir. It ain’t right for Miss Ruby to be suffering when all she ever did was help me and Mama. She’s about the best white lady I’ve ever known. Well, ’bout the best person I’ve ever known. I can’t let her take my punishment. Not when I’m the one who killed Chester Calhoun.”
***
I couldn’t believe it. Was I dreaming? Had the key to Ruby’s freedom just waltzed right in the front door? I paced the living room, my brain racing through the possibilities. If Samuel came forward and told the truth, Ruby could come home. We could be a family.
Across the room, Stanley sat on the edge of his seat. “Did I hear him right?” he asked. “Did he just say he was the one who killed Chester?”
I nodded.
“And you knew this already?”
I nodded again.
Now Stanley was up and pacing with me. “This could change things. I need to think this through. And I need to know what really happened.”
Samuel stood behind the sofa watching us, still fidgeting with his cap.
“Samuel, come around here and have a seat,” I said. “Tell Mr. Pierce what really happened that day. He’s Ruby’s lawyer. You can trust him.”
He moved around the sofa and sat down. “Well, I was working in the fields that day when I saw Chester walking toward the barn. I was about to go in there and confront him on account of how he treated me when I was a young’un. But Miss Ruby, she saw me and told me to get on back home, that nothing but trouble would come from me confronting Chester. As I set out for home, Chester saw me and told me to get in the barn and move some feed sacks. While I was in there, he started going after me again.”
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Pierce interrupted. “How old were you then?”
“I was fifteen, sir.”
“And what do you mean by he was going after you?”
“Chester used to beat me with the horse whips when Mama and I lived on Calhoun’s land. Calhoun told her she could come along and pick enough food to feed the two of us after the day’s work was done. I reckon Chester thought it would be a good time to harass us. So he did. He did awful things to both of us back then.” Samuel dropped his gaze to the floor. “That’s how Mama got pregnant. Chester…he did that.” He cleared his throat and during the uncomfortable silence that followed, Stanley and I exchanged looks. “That was how I met Miss Ruby. She helped us when we had nothing. Mama was afraid to go up to the farm and get food for us. We were nearly starving. But Miss Ruby brought us food and hope. And she saved us when the tornado came through and nearly killed us.” Samuel glanced up at me, his eyes softening. “Well, I reckon you and Miss Ruby both saved us that day.”
“All I did was drive the car. The saving came from God and Ruby.”
“Well, anyway, after that, Mama and Miss Ruby stayed good friends, and Miss Ruby always looked out for me. That day in the barn with Chester, he started talking at me again, trying to anger me. I was all right until he started talking about my mama, about the things he was going to do to her. I just lost it, and we started brawling. Chester was beating on me pretty good, and I would’ve taken my lickin’, but Chester wasn’t just trying to lick me. He was trying to kill me. Told me so. Only thing I could do was get my knife out and try to keep him from killing me.
“We wrestled around some more, and Ruby even jumped in there to try to help me. But he flung her off and said he was going to kill her next. He came at me again, and that time we fell into the hay bales. When I came up, Chester was stumbling around with the knife in his chest. Honestly, I don’t even remember doing it. Just happened all of a sudden.”
“Samuel,” Stanley said. “Why didn’t you tell the sheriff all this when it happened?”
“Ruby said there was no way I’d get a fair trial. That the white sheets would have me strung up before I could even tell my story. I was so scared. And so was she. She said she’d tell ’em it was her that got attacked, and she told me to run. So I did. Reckon I been running in some way or ’nother ever since.”
The room was deathly quiet while we all processed Samuel’s story. It pretty well matched what Ruby had told me. “What do you think?” I asked Stanley. “If Samuel comes forward, won’t that exonerate Ruby?”
“That would be the best-case scenario, but I can’t say it would be likely. I’m afraid all it’s gonna do is implicate Samuel, not clear Ruby. Even if Mr. Norton believes him, and the jury believes him, Ruby can still be charged with accessory to murder. Honestly, since he’s a Negro, he’s more likely to get convicted of murder, thereby ensuring Ruby gets convicted of accessory to murder, if not worse. I’m afraid Samuel coming forward doesn’t guarantee Ruby will be cleared.”
That wasn’t the answer I was looking for, and it apparently didn’t suit Samuel either. “But Mr. Pierce,” he said. “I was the one who killed Chester. Miss Ruby didn’t do anything except try to help him. That’s the God’s honest truth.”
“It won’t matter what the truth is, son,” Homer said from behind us.
Samuel jumped up and turned around, quick as a jackrabbit. “Who are you?” His alarmed eyes darted from Homer back to me. “What’s he doing here?”
I stood and tried to calm Samuel. “This is Homer Freeman. He’s trying to help Ruby too. We’re all trying to help Ruby.”
Homer stepped into the room and leaned on the back of the sofa. “Like I was saying. It won’t matter what the truth is. All that’ll matter is the story people believe. You can’t prove what happened in that barn nine years ago, just like the solicitor can’t prove it either. It’ll be your story versus his story, and whoever is more believable will win. Simple as that. And not to put too fine a point on it, but you live in Alabama. No jury’s going to believe you over a white man.”
Just then, Mrs. Graves came inside with a basket of green beans from the garden. She froze just inside the door, looking around at all of us. Her gaze stopped on Samuel. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said.
“Mrs. Graves, this is Samuel,” I said. “He uh, he knew Ruby a long time ago. He wants to help with her case.”
She looked at Samuel again, and I could see understanding dawning in her eyes. “You�
�re the boy…you’re that woman’s son.”
Samuel seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable. He went back to fidgeting with his hat, and his shoulders slumped. “Yes, ma’am.”
“But how can you help with her case?”
I jumped in. “He was the one who helped me find Ruby when she was attacked by Chester, remember? I would’ve never found her in time without his help that day.”
Stanley stood and came around the sofa. “Wait a minute. You also saw her get attacked by Chester the first time?”
“Yes, sir. I did.”
Stanley turned to me with wide eyes. “Matthew, why didn’t he at least testify to that in Ruby’s first trial?”
“Ruby wouldn’t hear nothing of it. Said she didn’t want him or his mother anywhere near the trial. She was adamant. And when Ruby makes up her mind about something, there’s no changing it.”
Both Samuel and Mrs. Graves nodded in agreement. Stanley tossed his hands up. “Well, I reckon we can’t do anything to go back and fix that first trial anymore. Technically, it never happened anyway. I’ll take Samuel on home and get back with you in a couple of days. You can let me know if this changes anything about your decision.”
We all said goodbye and shook hands, while Mrs. Graves took her green beans to the table. I joined her, and she slid a bowl over in front of me. “Hold ’em like this and snap off the end. Then snap ’em a couple more times. Snapping beans is good work for thinking.”
I took a few in my hands and followed her instructions. She was right, it was good for thinking. I considered my options, knowing full well what I really wanted to do was march Samuel down to the sheriff’s office and turn him in myself. That young man had been the catalyst of every awful thing that had happened to Ruby. How was it that God saw fit to allow him to go on about his life like nothing had happened? Why was Ruby, and our whole family for that matter, having to pay for his mistakes?
I spent the rest of the evening barely registering what was going on around me. I went through the motions of caring for Hope, bathing her, dressing her, and reading to her. I tucked her into bed, and we prayed together, but I couldn’t tell you what she’d said to me all evening. All I could think about was finding a way to get justice for Ruby.
I couldn’t go to bed for a long while. I paced back and forth next to the bed, playing out scenarios in my mind. If Samuel confessed, they’d arrest him. Would they then turn around and free Ruby? What would Ruby say if Samuel sacrificed himself for her? She’d never allow it. Somehow, she’d find a way to take all the blame on herself again.
Imagining Ruby’s stubborn determination to protect Samuel fueled my anger again. My heart sped up, and the dizziness I knew signaled the rise in my blood pressure sent me to a chair in the bedroom. I dropped my head between my knees, taking slow, deep breaths.
It seemed so close. Samuel was right there. The truth was standing right in front of everyone, and if they’d only see it, Ruby and I could have our family back. We could raise our children together. She could sleep next to me every night. It was so close!
I had to find a way to make it happen. I had to find a way to get justice. I had to make things right. I crawled into bed well into the early hours of the morning, and I fell into yet another fitful sleep, full of nightmares.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Matthew
April, 1943
Luzon Province, Philippines
My entire arm was on fire. I could hardly move it. Both bullet wounds were infected and smelled like rotting flesh. And I didn’t care. I trudged through the jungle, past palm tree after palm tree, an endless sea of bugs and foliage. I wanted to die. How could I ever go back and look Ruby in the eye? I’d been a sentimental idiot, and because of me, Henry was dead.
Henry is dead.
I had to say those words to myself to believe them. How had I let it happen? How could God have let it happen? What good was praying? What good was fighting to stay alive if it meant I’d have to tell Ruby that her brother was dead?
As I worked my way through the jungle, following behind Diego’s skillful bolo, I did my best not to move my left arm. It hung limp by my side, throbbing with excruciating pain. But I took it, and I refused to complain. I deserved it.
We were only a couple of days out from reaching our camp near Floridablanca when Diego came to me one morning as I was packing up my bedroll. He studied me for a moment before reaching for the disgusting, worn blanket. “Let me help, Major,” he said.
I tried to jerk the blanket away, but it felt like a knife jammed into my shoulder, and I nearly dropped to my knees. I couldn’t hold on to the blanket, and Diego easily pulled it from my grasp. He rolled it up tightly and shoved it into my rucksack.
“Major,” he said. “There is doctor near small barrio not far from Meycauayan. I am told he treats Americans. You must go see him about shoulder wound. You are infected.”
If he only knew how true that was. My very soul was infected. “I’m not going to Meycauayan. We need to get back to camp.”
My head swam, and the earth seemed to take a dip. Diego felt my cheek with the back of his hand. “You have fever. We go.”
And that was that. Diego led the way toward Meycauayan, and the closer we got, the weaker I grew. By the time we reached the barrio where this doctor was supposed to be, I could no longer stand, and my men took turns carrying me on a makeshift litter.
As I lay on the ground, I looked up at Diego speaking with a small Filipino man, the image of them blurring. A woman came from behind them, and she kneeled down beside me. Her hands caressed my forehead, and she turned to speak Spanish to Diego. Something about “peligro.” I knew that word. Danger.
There was more discussion around me in Spanish, and I was lifted into the air. I floated about for a bit before landing on a table in a hut. The Spanish all ran into a slur of sounds. A large, dark-skinned man leaned over me.
“No sobrevivirá,” said the deep, gruff voice. “He no survive. Infección inside the blood.”
The female voice was emphatic. “No, look at his skin. His lips are blue and he’s breathing rapidly. He’s just lost too much blood. Keep him warm, and I will get Dr. Bruno.”
The voices trailed away, and darkness took over.
***
When I awoke again, my head was pounding. I groaned and looked to my left. The woman I’d seen before sat beside me, her arm resting on a small table between us. Red surgical tubing ran from her arm over to mine. That made no sense. I looked again, and I realized the tubing wasn’t red. She was giving me her own blood.
“Where am I?” I asked.
She looked up from the notebook she was reading, and I could see she was very young. Maybe just barely twenty. “My father’s barrio. I am Malaya Baon. You are Major Doyle, sí?”
“Yes. Are you giving me a blood transfusion?”
“Sí. Your blood was dangerously low.”
“You speak English very well.”
“I went to school in Manila until the Japanese came.”
“Why are you giving me your blood? Don’t you need it?”
She smiled and went back to reading her notebook. “I will not give you that much, Major. Just enough for you to live on.”
“What if I don’t want to live?”
Her smile faded, and she sat up in her seat. “What a silly thing to say. You are Major Doyle. You are the one keeping my people’s hopes alive. You are the one who will find a way to chase Japan out of our homeland. You must live another day. And another. And another.”
I glanced down at my bandaged arm, noticing my hand. My wedding ring was gone. Probably lost during the battle with the Japs. And like Henry, it was lost for good. My chest grew heavy, aching for Ruby and Henry, for peace and home. But that wasn’t possible anymore. Ruby would never look at me the same once she knew I’d lost Henry.
***
It took a few days for me to get back on my feet. By that time, Harris and his remaining men had already left for Man
ila with instructions to set up a network of operatives that would communicate with me through Dakila Baon, the chief of the barrio, and Malaya’s father. They were to organize as many people as possible who were in positions to observe the Japanese—restaurant owners, grocers, dock workers, night club owners—anyone who could put eyes on Japanese movements.
Malaya continued to sit with me, giving me another transfusion on the second day of my recovery. We didn’t speak again of my desire to die, and I did my best not to think of Henry. Instead, I listened to Malaya talk about the history of the Filipino people, especially her own ancestors. And I decided I couldn’t think of home anymore. I couldn’t think of Ruby. I had to put all of that out of my mind and think only of helping the Filipinos. Nothing else in the world could exist if I was going to keep from descending into despair.
On the fourth day, I was well enough to get up and walk around the barrio. Doctor Bruno Cabrera had treated me over those days, and thankfully he’d concocted a mixture of pills that took the edge off my nightmares and sleeplessness. It even seemed to dull the ache that Henry’s death had left behind. I was determined to continue in my duties, focus on fighting the Japs, and deal with those emotions later. So I invited Bruno to join our ranks as a lieutenant. He promptly refused.
After another two days, I’d had enough treatment. I ordered Diego to pack us up. We would be returning to camp. I approached Bruno once more, inviting him to stay in our camp with us and treat the wounded and sick in the area surrounding us. This time, he considered the offer.
“I will not join guerrillas,” he said. “But I will travel with you, Major. I must make sure you do not ruin all my hard work in getting you well.” The drugs coursing through my veins agreed with him.
I said goodbye to Malaya, who promised to bring word from Harris as soon as it arrived. I was surprised by the small lift in my spirits that gave me and looked forward to seeing her again.
We set out for my headquarters—Diego, Bruno, and the five bodyguards who’d remained at the Baon barrio with us—trekking through the jungle at a faster pace than we had before. I was moving faster than before.
Abiding Hope: A Novel: Healing Ruby Book 4 Page 36