Authors: Donis Casey
All Men Fear Me (18 page)
“We need more loyal and less âthinking' Americansâ¦Are you an American?”
âAppeal to buy Liberty Bonds,
Tulsa Daily World
, 1917
By the time Alafair escaped the hall and accounted for all her children, Rob was already standing outside, leaning against the building, lighting a newly rolled cigarette. Two men were standing with him, but when Alafair started toward them, they faded away into the dark. Alafair handed Grace to Martha and walked over to him. Rob shook out his match and turned his head to look at her as she approached. The noise of a brouhaha was still spilling out of the hall, along with a straggle of rioters who had acquired some sense along with a bloody nose and finally decided to get out of there.
Alafair broke the silence. “Mercy!”
Rob smiled, but hardly seemed amused. “Now you know what's in store, anyway.”
“Robin, who are those fellows you were talking to? Just what are you up to?”
“I'm not up to anything that ought to bother you, Sis, so don't get fretted. All this to-do wasn't none of my doing, as you could see. Even so, I'm thinking that it's time I was leaving.”
“Where will you go?” Shaw asked. Alafair started. She hadn't realized that Shaw had finally come outside and was standing behind her.
Rob's gaze shifted to look over Alafair's shoulder. “I planned to head to Arkansas before going up to Illinois. I suppose I'll just get there sooner than I expected.”
“Will you be back?”
“I don't think I better, Shaw. I told you early on that I don't intend for y'all to suffer on my account, and you just heard in what regard your neighbors hold the I.W.W.”
“Now wait a minute. It's not up to you to protect us. We can speak for ourselves.” Shaw moved up beside Alafair and readjusted his hat to give himself time to consider how he was going to put this.“I admire your intentions, Robin, but I think you're wrong about this war.”
Rob raised an eyebrow. This was no news to him.
Shaw continued. “I'm afraid that you're in for trouble, too, if you don't rein in while this war is going on. I hope that the consequences of your wooly thinking don't spill over on us, too. But even so, you got a right to your opinion and you ought not to be punished for it. And I won't be forced to turn out my own kin for fear of what folks think of him.”
Rob's skeptical expression had changed to one of admiration. “You're a brave man, Shaw. A man has to take a stand for his principles, and I aim to. But you'll have enough to worry about without me in your hair right about now. I'll head out in a couple of days, if y'all can put up with me that long.”
Alafair seized his arm, on the verge of tears. “Robin⦔
He patted her hand. “It's all right, Sis. It's all right. It's better this way. I see Martha and Alice standing yonder. I'll go take my leave of them now and meet you at the wagon directly.”
He crushed the butt under his heel and ambled away, leaving Alafair and Shaw standing alone at the corner of the building. Shaw looked down at her. “Are the children accounted for?”
“Yes, Ruth left with Miz Beckie in her rig. Streeter and Martha are going to drive Alice and Linda home so they don't have to walk. Mary's already at the wagon with the little ones. Is everything under control inside? Where are the boys?”
“Gee Dub is still in the hall. I saw Charlie and his friend Henry take off like a couple of scalded cats after Scott shot up the ceiling. He'll either turn up at home later or spend the night with Alice or my sister, I reckon.”
Alafair nodded. In such a small town, with half of the population related to one another, there were plenty of surrogate parents around to keep an eye on your children.
“How are you, honey?” Shaw asked her. “You feeling bad about Robin leaving?”
She looked away. “I wish he didn't have to. But maybe it's for the best. He's up to something, Shaw.”
“Ain't he always? Listen, sugar, I've got to stay in town. Scott's hunting for Dutch and wants us to scout the town for a spell and make sure everybody is off the streets and home like they ought to be. You and the children take the buckboard and head on home.”
“We are less concerned with autocracy that is
abroad and remote than that which is immediate,
imminent, and at home.”
âSocialist Bruce Rogers, 1917
Old Nick hadn't had such a good time since the miners' strike in Arizona. He took up a place across the road from the Masonic Hall, in the shadow of a large tree, where he could get a good view of the brawl and of the crowd running for their lives. For a long time he watched with interest as the bearded traveler who had brought him to Boynton in the first place stood behind the building talking to a man and a woman whom Nick didn't know. Eventually the traveler made his way toward the field where the wagons were parked, alone.
There had been so much interesting activity in town over the past week that Nick had almost forgotten about the traveler, a true believer whose single-minded dedication to his cause promised so much in the way of trouble and strife. Nick slipped out of the shadows to follow the man as he walked toward the two who had started the trouble in the hall.
Nick sidled up in the shadows, unnoticed, just close enough to overhear what the men were talking about. Plans were afoot, which made Nick happy.
Nick headed back across the road, but he was distracted by a solitary figure walking quickly away from the hall and toward town. A stink of fear and the heat of determination emanated from the figure, and Nick turned in his tracks to follow.
He waited until the object of his interest was well away from the hall and walking alone down a residential street before he approached from behind. The person heard footsteps and halted in the middle of the road, but didn't turn around.
Nick leaned in, close enough to whisper in an ear. “I know what you want,” he said.
The figure stiffened, but said nothing.
Nick paused long enough to be sure his mark would not run away. “Give me a name,” he whispered, “and I will take care of it.”
***
It was nearly nine o'clock by the time Isaiah Kirby, editor of the
Boynton Index
, received the wire from Muskogee with the complete list of draft numbers drawn for the county. Kirby folded the list, put it in his breast pocket, donned his hat, and locked the door to the newspaper office before making his way at a trot toward the Masonic hall.
He expected to be greeted by a waiting crowd, but he slowed to a walk when he got close enough to see that the hall was dark. He stopped in the middle of the road, trying to figure out what had happened, until he saw a lanky figure holding a kerosene lantern come around the corner.
“Trent,” he called. “What in the world is going on?”
“Mr. Kirby! I'll be danged. In all the excitement I plumb forgot what everybody was here for in the first place.” He ambled over. “Sorry we didn't send somebody over to the paper so's to save you the trip. The Liberty Sing didn't go well. The pro-drafters and the anti-drafters butted heads and we had us a regular riot. Scott busted up the proceedings and sent everybody home. I reckon you'll just have to print the list in the paper tomorrow.”
“Well, I'll be!” Kirby was annoyed that he had wasted the evening waiting for a list of draft numbers when he could have been covering a riot. He pulled out the little notebook that he carried everywhere. “Tell me what happened.”
Trent held the lantern high. “You got the list of draft numbers with you?”
A knowing look crossed Kirby's face as he patted his breast pocket. “I do. I reckon you registered, didn't you?”
“How about if you let me have a peek? Then I'll give you a story that'll knock your readers on their butts.”
Kirby reached into his pocket. “Son, I'd appreciate if you would, but you can look to see if your number came up for nothing.”
***
When Billy Claude Walker called a secret meeting of the Knights of Liberty at the pool hall after the riot, Nick almost rubbed his hands together with glee.
The group gathered around their usual table. Nick took a chair in the corner, just behind Billy Claude. They looked pretty beat up, Nick noted. Several black eyes and a split lip or two. Rather than serving as a cautionary example, the injuries had stiffened the combatants' resolve. “We can't let this stand, fellows,” Billy Claude said. “Sheriff Tucker won't do nothing about it, but it's pretty obvious that we've got us a nest of traitors in town. And what about all them incidents at the brick plant? Somebody is trying to make sure that the bricks to build that Army installation don't get where they're supposed to go. Even if it takes murder. Look at what happened to Win. Who of us is going to be next, I ask you?”
One of Billy Claude's henchmen piped up. “We ought to write to the Justice Department, tell them we know who the culprits are. You're on the Council of Defense, Billy Claude. They'll listen to you.”
A new man at the end of the table said, “Get Emmanuel Clover to back you up. Two CD men are better than one.”
Billy Claude sniffed. “Clover is useless. So is Sheriff Tucker. Neither one of them is going to do what needs to be done. Let them write all the letters they want. I say we need to take action now.”
“What kind of action, Billy Claude?”
Billy Claude leaned back in his chair and hooked his thumbs through his suspenders. “Let me think on it, Victor. We need to make sure to let everybody in town know that treason will not go unpunished.”
Nick leaned forward and gently placed his root beer bottle on the table beside Billy Claude. “I have a suggestion,” he said.
“The test of loyalty in war times is whether a man is wholeheartedly for the war and subordinates everything else to its successful prosecution.”
âMinnesota Commission of Public Safety
Considering the excitement of the evening, the night was turning out to be exceptionally quiet, Alafair thought. Rob had gone into the kitchen to have a bowl of sweetened rice before turning in. Charlie had turned up an hour or so after everyone else. Alafair expected him to be excited and full of chatter, but he was unusually subdued.
After putting the children to bed, Alafair came out of the bedroom to find Shaw sitting in an armchair, reading the latest edition of the
Muskogee Phoenix
. On the other side of the lamp table, sharing his father's light, Charlie was engrossed in a book with pictures of soldiers in it. Charlie Dog lay snoring softly under the boy's feet. Gee Dub had already gone out to the shed. She passed into the kitchen and found her brother sitting at the kitchen table, a kerosene lamp before him, perusing a yellow piece of paper that looked suspiciously like a telegram.
He looked up at her and smiled. “Finally got the little ones settled?”
She sat down on the other side of the table. “It took a while. They were too excited to sleep.”
Rob leaned his elbows on the table. “Well, I was glad to see how the law handled the situation without taking sides. That don't always happen, I'm afraid, especially if your family is full of subversives and foreign-born, like yours is.”
“It helps if the sheriff is kin and his deputy is sweet on one of your daughters.”
“Is that so?” Rob grinned.“That carrot-topped youngster fancies one of yours? Ruth, I'm guessing.”
“That's right. If I'm any judge of these things they'll be wed before long. And even if it weren't so, that boy is like family.”
“Well, that's good. That's all good! In time of trouble, you can't rely on anybody to stand with you like your own kinfolks. Who belongs to this Knights of Liberty group, Alafair? Gee Dub thinks it's the same bunch that jumped Dutch Leonard at the Liberty Sing tonight.”
Alafair shrugged. “The Knights like to keep their faces covered, so it can't yet be proved who they are. The word has got around, though, that Billy Claude Walker and the rest of the late Win Avey's pals are involved. They all hold to a rigid standard for what it means to be American.”
Rob looked thoughtful. “Huh. I'd like to have a word with this Walker fellow.”
“Now, Robin, you'd better just keep your distance from his kind. Billy Claude is the new Secret Service man in town since Win died. I think him and his crew are just itching for an excuse to run somebody just like you out of town on a rail, or at least get you thrown in prison.” Her voice was heavy with dread.
“I can handle myself, Alafair. Most of these puffed up rubes are nothing but a case of big behavior. They love to push you around, until you push back.” He began to drum absently on the piece of paper that lay on the table beneath his fingers.
“What are you reading?” Alafair said.
“Nothing to worry about, Sis.” He casually folded the paper and slipped it into his breast pocket. “Got a telegram from I.W.W. headquarters this morning. They got a little assignment for me before I leave Oklahoma.”
That piece of news did not please Alafair at all. “What do they want you to do?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just stop an uprising.”
Alafair didn't laugh at his joke. “I thought you were getting ready to leave Oklahoma because you're worried folks will think me and Shaw approve of your politics.”
Rob felt a stab of annoyance. “Don't worry. My business is too far away from here to bring the wrath of public opinion down on you.”
“Don't get all tied in a knot, now. I didn't mean it that way. I fret when I know you're about to roil the waters. Especially now that everybody's nerves are so frazzled.”
“Alafair, you been trying to mother me for as long as I can remember. Quit it, now. You've got enough kids to be fussing over. I've been at this for a long time. I know what I'm doing.”
“I'm sorry, Robin. I guess mothering is what I do without thinking about it. I know you're good at your business. But I've never seen a time like this one before. It's like everyone has gone barking mad. I can't help but fear.”
As he listened, Rob's expression softened. Alafair put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a shake. “Robin, don't be messing with Billy Claude. And don't go traipsing off and get yourself in trouble again. I got a bad feeling about all this.”
He puffed. She would never change. “I do, too, Alafair. That's why I've got to try to stop a bunch of fellows from doing something really stupid. Don't fret over me. I know how to walk the razor's edge, if anybody does. I've been in a lot worse situations than this will be. I ain't looking for trouble.”
“Trouble just finds you, Robin, whether you're looking for it or not.”