The Conquest: The Story of a Negro Pioneer

by Oscar Micheaux

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  SANCTIMONIOUS HYPOCRISY

  I was preparing to seed the biggest crop I had ever sown. With Orleanhelping me, by bringing the dinner to the field and doing some chores,during the fall we had put the farm into winter wheat and I had rentedthe other Megory county farm. I hired a steam rig, to break two hundredacres of prairie on the Tipp county homesteads, for which I was to paythree dollars an acre and haul the coal from Colone, a distance ofthirty-five miles, the track having been laid to that point on theextension west from Calias.

  I intended to break one hundred acres with my horses and put it intoflax. I had figured, that with a good crop, it would go a long waytoward helping me get out of debt. I worked away feverishly, for I hadgotten deeper into debt by helping my folks get the land in Tipp county.

  After putting in fifteen acres of spring wheat, I hauled farm machineryto my sister's claim, and then began hauling coal from Colone. It was onFriday. I was driving two horses and two mules abreast, hitched to awagon loaded with fifty hundred pounds of coal, and trailing anotherwith thirty hundred pounds, when one of the mules got unruly, going downa hill, swerved to one side, and in less time than it takes to tell it,both wagons had turned turtle over a fifteen-foot embankment and I wasunder eight thousand pounds of coal, with both wagons upside down andthe hind wagonbox splintered almost to kindling. That I was not hurt wasdue to the fact that the grade had been built but a few days previously,had not settled and the loose dirt had prevented a crash. I attempted tojump when I saw the oncoming disaster, but caught my foot in the brakerope which pulled me under the loads.

  A day and a half was lost in getting the wreck cleared so I couldproceed to my sister's claim, from where I had intended going home to mywife, fifteen miles away. I had left the Reverend in charge after he andEthel had said about all the evil things words could express, and he,finding that I was inclined to be peaceful, had shown his hatred of mein every conceivable manner, until Orlean, who could never bear noise orquarreling, decided it would be better that I go away and perhaps hewould quit. I did not get home that trip on account of the delay causedby the wreck, but sent my sister with a letter, stating that I wouldcome home the next trip, and describing the accident.

  I went back to Colone, and while eating supper someone told me threecolored people were in Colone, and one of them was a sick woman. I couldhardly believe what I heard. My appetite vanished and I arose from thetable, paid the cashier and left the place, going to the hotel aroundthe corner, and there sat my wife. I went to her side and whispered:

  "Orlean, what in heaven's name are you doing here? And why did you comeout in such weather."

  She was still very sick and wheezed when she answered, trembling at thesame time:

  "You said I could go home until I got well."

  "Yes, I know," I answered, controlling my excitement. "But to leave homein such weather is foolhardy."

  It had been snowing all day and was slippery and cold outside.

  "And, besides," I argued, "you should never have left home until Ireturned. Didn't you get my letter?" I inquired, looking at her with apuzzled expression.

  "No," she replied, appearing bewildered. "But I saw Ollie hand somethingto papa."

  I then recalled that I had addressed the letter to him.

  "But," I went on, "I wrote you a letter last week that you should havereceived not later than Saturday."

  "I--I--I never received it," she answered, and seemed frightened.

  I could not understand what had taken place. I had left my wife twoweeks before, feeling that I held her affections, and had thought onlyof the time we'd be settled at last, with her well again.

  The Reverend had said so much about her going home that I had consented,but had stipulated that I would wait until she was better and would thensee whether we could afford it or not.

  Suddenly a horrible suspicion struck me with such force as almost tostagger me, but calming myself, I decided to talk to the elder. He camein about that time and looked very peculiar when he saw me.

  The town was full of people that night and he had some difficulty ingetting a room, but had finally succeeded in getting one in a smallrooming house, and to it we now helped Orlean, who was anything butwell.

  As we carried her, I could hardly suppress the words that came to mylips, to say to him when we got into the room, but thought it best notto say anything. Ethel, who was sitting there when we entered, neverdeigned to speak to me, but her eyes conveyed the enmity within. TheReverend was saying many kind words, but I was convinced they were allpretense and that he was up to some dirty trick. I was further convincedthat he not only was an arrant hypocrite, but an enemy of humanity aswell, and utterly heartless. When he and Ethel had entered our homethree weeks before, neither shed a tear nor showed any emotion whatever,and had not even referred to the death of the baby, but set up a quarrelthat never ceased after I went away.

  "Reverend," I said. "Will you and Ethel kindly leave the room for a fewminutes? I would like to speak with Orlean alone."

  They never deigned to move an inch, but finally the Reverend said:

  "We'll not leave unless Orlean says so."

  In that moment he appeared the most contemptible person I ever knew. Mywife began crying and said she wanted to see her mother, that she wassick, and wanted to go home until she got well. I was angry all over andturned on the preacher, exclaiming hotly:

  "Rev. McCraline, I left you in charge of my wife out of respect for youas her father, but," here I thundered in a terrible voice, "you havebeen up to some low-lived trick and if I thought you were trying toalienate my wife's affections, or had done so, I would stop this thingright here and sue you, if you were worth anything."

  At this he flushed up and answered angrily:

  "I'm worth as much as you."

  He was a poor hand at anything but quarreling, but knowing we'd make ascene, I said no more. It was a long night, Orlean was restless, andwheezed and coughed all through the night.

  I have wondered since why I did not take the bull by the horns andsettle the matter then, but guess it was for the sake of peace, thatI've accepted the situation and remained quiet. I decided it would bebest to let her go home without a big row, and when she had recovered,she could come home, and all would be well.

  My wife had informed me that Claves kept up the house, paid for thegroceries and half of the installments, while her father paid for theother half, but never bought anything to eat, nor sent any money home,only bringing eggs, butter, and chickens when he came into the citythree or four times a year. But Claves' name was not on the contract forthe home, only her father's name appearing. Her father was extremelyvain and I had not pleased him because I was independent, and he did notlike independent people. She also told me that her father always kept upa row when he was at home, but always charged it to everybody else.

  The next morning, just before we started for the depot, I said:

  "I'll step into the bank and get a check cashed and give Orlean somemoney. I haven't much, but I want her to have her own money."

  "Never mind, my son, just never mind. I can get along," said theReverend, keeping his head turned and appearing ill at ease, though Ithought nothing of that at the time.

  "I wouldn't think of such a thing!" I answered, protesting that he wasnot able to pay her way. "I wouldn't think of allowing her to acceptit."

  "Now! Now! Why do you go on so? Haven't I told you I have enough?" heanswered in a tenor voice, trying to appear winsome.

  Feeling that I knew his disposition, I said no more, but as we werepassing the bank, I started to enter, saying to my wife:

  "I am going to get you some money."

  She caught me by the sleeve and cried excitedly: "No! No! No! Don't,because I have money." Hesitating a moment and repeating, "I havemoney."

  "You have money?" I repeated, appearing to misunderstand her statement."How did you get money?"

  "Had a check cashed," she answered nervously.


  "O, I see!" I said. "How much?"

  "Fifty dollars," she answered, clinging to my arm.

  "Good gracious, Orlean!" I exclaimed, near to fright. "We haven't gotthat much in the bank."

  "Oh! Oh! I didn't want to," and then called to her father, who was justcoming with the baggage: "Papa! Papa! You give Oscar back that money.He hasn't got it. Oh! Oh! I didn't want to do this, but you said itwould be all right, and that the cashier at the bank, where you got itcashed, called up the bank in Calias and said the check was all right.Oh! Oh!" she went on, beside herself with excitement, and holding herarms out tremblingly and repeating: "I didn't want to do this."

  I can see the look in his face to this day. All the hypocrisy andpretense vanished, leaving him a weak, shame-faced creature, and lookingfrom one side to the other stammered out:

  "I didn't do it! I didn't do it! You--You--You know, you told her sheshould write a check for any money she needed and she did it, she didit."

  Here again my desire for peace over-ruled my good judgment. Instead ofstopping the matter then and there, I spoke up gravely, saying:

  "I don't mind Orlean's going home. In fact, I want her to go home and tohave anything to help her get well and please her, but I haven't themoney to spare. Her sickness, with a doctor coming into the countrytwice daily, has been very expensive, and we just have not the money,that is all."

  When he saw I was not going to put a stop to it, he took courage andspoke sneakingly:

  "Well, the man in the bank at Carlin called up the bank of Calias, andthey said the money was there."

  "O," I said, "as far as that goes, I had five hundred dollars there lastweek, it has all been checked out, but some of the checks likely arestill out."

  I took twenty-five dollars of the money and gave Orlean twenty-fivedollars. Her ticket was eighteen dollars. I went with them as far asCalias, to see how my account stood. I kissed Orlean good-bye beforeleaving the train at Calias, then I went directly to the bank anddeposited the twenty-five dollars. The checks I had given had come inthat morning, and even after depositing the twenty-five, I found myaccount was still overdrawn thirty dollars.