by Karen Wolff
I sat down beside the grave, my mind in a muddle, hurting and mad, everything going round and round in my head. I looked up just as Carol Ann came walking up the rise, and I felt a surge of pleasure to see her. I wanted her with me. Then I remembered. Her father was a member of that hateful Klan. Was he here last night? Was he part of this thing?
“I’ve been looking for you, Harry. We heard what happened. Is your granddad okay?” I nodded, and she came closer.
She saw my bandaged hands. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”
“Burnt my hands.” I knew I sounded gruff and unfriendly.
“Oh, no.” She sank down beside me, her face all knotted up. “I’m sorry, Harry. I feel so bad about all this.”
I didn’t answer right away. Finally, I had to ask. “Was your dad here last night? Was he in on this?”
“Oh, Harry.” Her eyes opened wide. “How could you think that? My dad wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“All I know is that he joined up with them, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did, but Dad says this ends it for him. All this KKK business.” She turned to me. “But what about your dad? He joined up too, didn’t he?”
“My dad! What do you mean?”
“He’s been going to the meetings, Harry.”
This news hit me like a punch in the stomach. “That’s a lie. I don’t believe it. He wouldn’t do this to his own family,” I said, my voice shaky.
“It’s not either a lie. I heard my dad tell Mother. He wondered why your dad had joined up. He doesn’t go to church or participate in anything else.”
I exploded. “I don’t think my dad joined, but yours sure did. He was here last night. Helped do all this damage. I hate him and the Klan.”
She started to cry. “You can’t accuse my dad of this, Harry. He told us it wasn’t the Richmond Klavern behind what happened here. It was somebody from out of town.”
“I bet he was part of it, but now he won’t admit it. Nobody will. They’ll duck and hide. Play innocent when they realize what they did. Your dad too.”
“Harry. Stop saying things like that.”
She was really bawling now, her eyes red and running. Some part of my brain knew I shouldn’t blame her for what happened, but I wanted to blame somebody, I was so filled with hatred.
“I won’t stop. I’m gonna find them and burn their houses down. I’m gonna hurt their animals. I’m gonna…”
Her hand came up and smacked my face good. “Stop it,” she screamed. We looked at each other in disbelief, and then she turned and ran toward the road. I stood stunned, my cheek stinging. I felt weak and sank to the ground again, anger whooshing out of me like air from a balloon. I didn’t know whether to be mad at her or not. She wasn’t to blame, but her father sure was. And maybe mine. I hated them.
After a while, I got up and walked toward the house. Ty was putting away his brush and paint and met up with me.
“I saw Carol Ann come whizzing by. What’s the matter with her?”
“Aw, I don’t know. Everything I guess.”
“Well, I’m going inside. People keep coming by to ask what happened. I’m sick and tired of telling the thing over and over.” Ty wasn’t very talkative on the best of days, so I knew this was hard on him.
I went in with him, and we found Granddad propped up in his bed, eating some chicken and noodles.
“You’re awake,” I said. “How’s your leg?”
He laid back in his pillows and said, “I guess I’m gonna live, but I sure can tell I’m stove up.”
“Phil Beaubien stopped by a while ago,” Ty said. “He wants to come over and hear just what happened so he can file a sheriff’s report.”
Granddad snorted. “Lotta good that’ll do.”
“Well, I’d like to hear the story too,” I said.
A couple of hours later when Sheriff Beaubien showed up, we gathered in the bedroom.
“I don’t see what good this’ll do,” Granddad said.
“Might not do any, Alfie, but it’s something I have to do. So why don’t you just tell me what happened? Maybe start by telling me who was in the store that night.”
“Oh, let’s see. Bill and Jalmer Nelson were there, but they left early, about ten or ten thirty. And Ole Tollefson. Charlie Wendt, and a young fellow I didn’t know. I think he said his name was Tom, and he was down here from Beresford doing some farm work for his uncle.”
“Who’s his uncle?”
“He didn’t say.”
“When did Ole leave?”
“Right after the Nelson boys. I heard him drive away in that old noisy truck of his.”
“How about this Tom fellow?”
“He stayed quite a while. Charlie Wendt too. We all drank quite a bit. Somebody said it was after eleven, so I told them I was going to lock up. That fella Tom went first. Charlie hung around for a while, and then he left too. Squint and I were the only ones left.”
“That’s Squint Pickard?”
“Yeah, he’s there most every night. Anyway, I started collecting the glasses and wiping off the bar. Squint and I may have had another glass or two. I can’t quite remember. Finally I told him he better leave.”
“And did he go?”
“Yeah. I have to kick him out almost every night at closing time, so that wasn’t unusual.”
“Then what happened? Did you leave?”
“Well, I remember turning off the lamps, and I went to the front door. I think I was trying to find my keys so I could lock up.” Granddad looked sheepish.
“I’d had too much to drink, and I stood there on the porch, fumbling around in my pockets. It was dark as hell. Next thing I knew a whole crowd came rushing at me from the west end of the porch. They were wearing those white things with the tall hats, masks on their faces, and a couple of them had torches.”
“How many were there?”
“I don’t know. It’s kind of a blur. All I know is that it scared the bejesus out of me. I just couldn’t figure out what was going on. I heard fire crackling. Buster was barking, and cars were running. They came on me so fast. I heard somebody say, ‘There he is. Now we can get him.’ It was so noisy, I didn’t know if I heard right. I tell you, I was afraid for my life. I didn’t know what they meant to do. They were talking kind of excited like, ‘should we beat him up?’ ‘let’s tie him up,’ stuff like that. They got up close and held a torch up to my face. Somebody said, ‘He’s drunk.’ And something about me being a damn Frenchman. They crowded up next to me, jostling and pushing me around there on the end of the porch. Somebody grabbed my arm and twisted me around so I was facing the door. Buster was right beside me.”
“Did they hit you?”
“I can’t say for sure. I kept trying to get my hand out of my pocket. Seems like there wasn’t enough room to move. I stumbled. Then another really big one of them came up the steps there in front of the door. I think he might have grabbed at me. I don’t know. Next thing, I lost my balance and fell with Buster all tangled up in my legs. I went down on top of him, and I heard him yowl. I must have hit my head ‘cause I don’t remember any more.”
Mr. Beaubien leaned back. “Did you recognize any of them?”
“No. Not a one. I couldn’t tell anything. I was too woozy.”
“I can’t figure how he got these long scratches on his back,” Gram said. Granddad said he didn’t have any idea. After a little more conversation, the sheriff left, but we continued to talk.
“I should have guessed what would happen,” Gram said. “Yesterday there were so many cars. They came in two’s and three’s, driving by real slow. Then they would turn around and come back the same way. I was busy, and I just didn’t pay much attention.”
“Carol Ann says Dad joined the Klan. He’s been going to meetings,” I said. “She heard her folks talking about it.”
That was news to them, and we chewed on the possibility that Dad might have helped the men last night. Ty didn’t believe he’d do that to us, but
Gram and Granddad didn’t seem to know what to think.
“I can’t figure out Cal anymore,” Granddad said.
“We have to find out who it was. We can’t let them get away with it.”
“Not much we can do tonight,” Gram said at last. She yawned as she gave Granddad a couple of aspirins.
“We’d best get to bed.”
I sat for some time by myself in the kitchen. My insides writhed to think of the trouble with Carol Ann. I felt again her stinging slap on my face as we stood by Buster’s grave. How did that happen? What did I say to her? I remembered the shattering news she had given me about Dad. It had driven me, made the anger rise up, and I had boiled with it. I had raged at her, my poor, sweet Carol Ann, and I had blamed her for her father. But I could see now, it wasn’t just about her father. It was also about my father. I couldn’t blame her for her dad any more than I could blame myself for my own father. I was ashamed. I sat heavy and sad, wanting nothing so much as to run to her house, to find her, to hold her and kiss her and tell her how sorry I was. Nothing mattered to me so much as her sweet forgiveness. I had hurt her, and I loved her. I had to make it right between us.
ON SUNDAY MORNING Gram emerged from her bedroom and announced that she was going to church. Her hair was freshly washed and done up in a tight bun. She wore her heavy, dark Sunday dress and her polished black shoes with their silky ties.
I looked up, surprised. “I figured you’d be too tired to go.”
She harrumphed. “I’m not going to let people think that they can get me down, especially those fools who joined the Klan.” She straightened her shoulders. “We have to stand up to them. Which one of you wants to go with me?”
I implored Ty with my eyes to speak up. He figured out what I wanted and said, “I’ll go, Gram. Harry’s still got bandages on his hands.”
I loaned him a pair of my school pants and breathed a sigh of relief when they set off. I needed time by myself. Granddad dozed off after he finished eating breakfast, so I poured a cup of coffee, pondering all that had happened, and then I made a plan. I would try to talk to Carol Ann and make up with her. I would need to think about my words so she’d believe how sorry I was. But that was for tomorrow. Today I’d go over to Sally McVay’s and ask Dad, outright, if he’d been in on this terrible thing. If he’d helped the Klan.
I took a big breath and got up to leave, but something pulled me right back to my chair. It surprised me. Maybe I was a coward. Maybe I was afraid to face my own father. Maybe I had a big yellow streak in me. It wasn’t that I was scared of him. After all, what could a one-armed man do to me? Maybe the truth was that I just didn’t want to know. What would I do if he denied it? Would I believe him? What if he said he had been at the store that night? Then what? Hit him? Kill him? No. No, everybody said it wasn’t the local group. Some men from out of town, they said. One of the other Klaverns.
Just then Granddad called to me from the bedroom in his weak, croaky voice, and I left off planning to see my dad.
“Harry, are you here? I’m really dry.”
I went to his side with a glass of cold water.
“God, this thing hurts,” he said. His face with its two-day stubble was contorted as he twisted around, trying to find a comfortable position in the bed. He drank thirstily and sank back into his pillow. “I’ve don’t see how we’re going to get by. Me laid up like this.”
I nodded. “We’ll figure it out, Granddad. Don’t worry.”
“Bessie can’t look after me and run the store too. Ty sure can’t run the place by himself fourteen hours a day.”
I knew what was coming, and I didn’t want to hear it.
“We’ll manage somehow,” I said in an effort to stall him.
“No, Harry. I think you’ll have to stay home from school and run the place. You know better’n Ty how to do it.”
There it was. Just what I feared, and I felt sick to hear it. In the back of my mind I knew they were going to need me, to want me to stay home. I also knew he was right about Ty. Running the store didn’t come natural to him. He was so bashful around people.
“You want me to drop out of school?”
“Well, my God, Harry,” he said, his voice testy. “You’ve already had eight years of school. I don’t know anybody who needs any more than that.”
“I don’t want to give it up, Granddad. It’s my only chance to make something of myself. I need to graduate. Maybe we can figure out something else to do.”
“I don’t think we can make it otherwise, Harry. We need you.” His eyes pleaded with me.
I wanted to get away from him, his pathetic face. Finally the words I didn’t want to say came out. “You know I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
But just saying that tore me up something awful. I didn’t want to drop out. I was used to high school now, and everything was going so well. I knew what Mrs. Kleinsasser and Mr. Hummel would think about it. They’d say I was destroying my future to solve a short-term problem. And Carol Ann. She’d be so disappointed. Carol Ann. Would she care what I did? I had to see her. I knew she was in church today, and the Bellwoods would have their big Sunday dinner afterwards. Then they’d all go back to church tonight. I’d just have to wait.
Back in the kitchen, I tore the bandages from my hands in frustration. No more going around like a little kid with all that gauze. My hands still hurt, but I didn’t care. My other troubles seemed bigger.
I stepped outside onto the porch and felt a shiver until the sun began to warm my body. I glanced at the store where Claude Tucker had removed the burned siding and some of the inner wall so the beer hall could air out. Ty and I planned to wave towels around inside there to get rid of the smoky smell. Gram wanted the bar closed for the foreseeable future, and I was just as happy about that. Granddad groaned and said he’d probably go broke. She said we might go broke, but it wouldn’t be because of closing the bar, and at least we wouldn’t have to worry about the federal agents coming around.
Just then I saw Russ’s car drive up the road to our house, and I cheered up when he stepped out and waved. He came up on the porch where I stood.
“I heard what happened, Harry. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, I guess so, but they got us for sure.” I pointed to where the siding was missing. “Tried to burn the store down.”
He looked at it, scratching his chin. “What’s the matter with those people?”
I shrugged. “Granddad says I’ll have to quit school to help out. I sure don’t want to.” We stood silent for a moment.
“I wish I’d gone on to school. I should have.” Then he brightened up. “But things are working out okay, I guess. Maybe you don’t need to finish high school.”
“But I do,” I said. “I don’t want to work in a country grocery store all my life. I want something better than that.”
“You’re really serious, aren’t you?” He patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Your grandmother’ll work something out.” Then he changed the topic. “Hey, Harry. Do you have any cigarettes in the store you could sell me? I’m out.”
“Sure. I was just gonna take these towels over there. We have to air the place out.” I got the key off the nail by the door, and we went to the store. I rang up a pack of smokes, and then Russ said, “I can wave a towel. I’ll help you.”
That was fine by me. With the front door and the barroom door open, Claude’s ventilation system began to work. When we were finished, Russ and I put the inside wall back in place to avoid an army of mice taking over the groceries, and then I walked to the car with him.
“Look Harry,” he said. “Maybe I could come out after work and keep the store open evenings a few nights a week. Would that help?”
I nodded. “It sure would. Thanks, Russ.” His visit had bucked me up, and I was grateful he’d stopped by.
THAT AFTERNOON, AFTER Sunday dinner, folks started coming over to see Granddad, to visit, to get all the details about what had happened. I was nervous at first,
looking at each man, wondering if this fellow or that one was a member of the Klan. One after another they came, each assuring Granddad that nobody from Richmond had been involved in the thing. Some of them were people who charged on their accounts at the store all year long. Generally, if we reminded them, they paid up in the fall when their crops were in, and today, a couple of them brought cash to the house to settle their bills early. That’s how remorseful they were about what happened. Gram kept the coffee pot going all afternoon.
His last caller was Walter Trometer, one of Granddad’s oldest friends. Once more we had to hear about the Richmond Klavern’s innocence in all this.
“Alfie,” he said. “It wasn’t any of us. Do you know that Rufus Laycock fellow skipped town and took all the money he had collected from us? We held all those meetings and decided to use our money to buy some playground equipment for the school. But he just took it and cleared out. We disbanded the thing.”
I let out a big sigh of relief when I heard this news. If it was true, it surely meant that Dad couldn’t have been here that night. If only the men in town hadn’t started this up, he wouldn’t even have been a member. Still, I doubted we’d heard the end of the story. Even if the local folks didn’t do this to us, who did? What would stop the KKK from trying it again? Walter’s words didn’t remove the fear I felt.
AFTER SUPPER I told Gram that Granddad said I’d have to quit school. She frowned. “He had no business making that decision without talking to me. I’ve been thinking about it, Harry. I hope you don’t have to quit, but I’m not sure. I’ve got a little money put aside—your dad’s laundry money. If there were somebody to hire for a few weeks, I think we could afford it. Business has been pretty good lately. Of course we have to pay Claude Tucker for his work. I suppose he might be willing to wait a little while. We’ve done that for him plenty of times.”
“Russ is done at River Sioux this week. He needs a job. He offered to help us out for a while.”