Shadows of St. Louis (15 page)

Real Family

"Where will we go? What will we do?" Emma Lynn asked Rebecca Jane as a rush of reality pulsated through her veins, giving her a chill down to her core.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine." Rebecca Jane grabbed Emma Lynn's bag. "We'll go stay with Clarence and his family tonight. We were already planning on moving tomorrow. We'll be fine." She squeezed Emma Lynn's hand as a sign of reassurance.

"Becky,
Em
, wait." They turned to see Charles running to catch up with them. "I'm not letting the two of you walk out here alone by yourselves. It’s almost dark."

"You should come with us, Charles," Rebecca Jane said. "You have nothing keeping you in that house. Your son is already with Clarence and his sister Cecilia. We can all stay there tonight and then move to across the river together tomorrow."

Charles was quiet as if considering the idea. Surely he had thought of it before. Emma Lynn could tell with just one look how much he loved his son. Surely he had thought of ways to be with him permanently. This was definitely an option.

After taking a deep breath, Charles said, "All right. The time has come. We should leave.
All of us together.
We can start a new family."

Rebecca Jane smiled and hugged her brother. "You can stay with us, Charles," she said."We can move across the river to Illinois and start fresh."

"Yeah, this will work," Charles said with so much hope in his voice. "We're going to be a family," he said to Emma Lynn. "The real family you've been deprived of your entire life." He hugged Emma Lynn and then looked at his watch. "I'm going to run back to the house and pack a bag. Rebecca Jane, do you need anything?"

"No, I have all I need with Clarence." She meant that in every sense possible. She truly felt Clarence was all she needed, but also, she had been slowly collecting clothes and necessities at his house, knowing that one day she might have to escape there.

"Are you all right, Emma Lynn?" Charles asked, noticing how quiet she had become.

"Yes," she said through her silent tears.

"Oh,
Em
.
You're going to be okay now. Becky and I are going to take care of you and give you the life you deserve. Don't cry."

"Okay." She hugged him tightly.

"Maybe I'll walk you there and come back home later," Charles offered. Rebecca Jane could tell that Emma's demeanor frightened him. She had been through so much in the past few hours he didn't want to leave her alone.

"Don't be ridiculous, Charles. We'll be fine. You go on home and then meet us at Clarence's house."

Taking a deep breath, he said, "I won't be long. Take care of her, Becky."

"I will. You hurry. We have a lot of plans to make."

Odd Conversation

Henry could hardly wipe the smile from his face. He was so happy he couldn't see straight. In a few short hours, he was going to marry Emma Lynn and they would be together forever. His stomach still tingled at the thought of her words. He could still hear her soft voice saying that he was her life. The line replayed in his mind over and over again like a malfunctioning
Victrola
.

"Have you heard a word I've said?" The sound of his mother's shrill voice broke him out of his reverie.

"Excuse me?" he responded. Honestly, he hadn't heard a thing besides the voice of Emma Lynn in his mind.

"I said, I had the oddest conversation with Mrs. Goodwin today," his mother continued.

"What do you mean?" he asked in a sudden panic. "You went to talk to her?"

"Well, yes. I didn't see the harm in it. We're about to be family for God's sake."

"Oh, mother. I told you not to do that. I begged you." Henry sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. There was no telling what kind of damage his mother had done. He had to find out. "What did she say? What did you two talk about?"

"Well, it was very strange indeed. She offered me four hundred dollars to not mention anything about Rebecca Jane's baby. Can you imagine that?"

"Four hundred dollars?
Did you accept?" Henry racked his brain trying to think why Mrs. Goodwin would make such an offer. Was Rebecca Jane actually pregnant and Mrs. Goodwin wanted to keep it a secret?

"I don't see how I could not accept it. That is more money than your father made last year."

"Oh my God, you took it. What must she think of us?"

"I honestly don't know what she was thinking. Why would I tell anyone that you and Rebecca Jane conceived a child out of wedlock?"

Henry stood and paced the small living area. He tried to think like Mrs. Goodwin. What was she afraid of? Surely she knew that Henry wouldn't be the father of Rebecca Jane's baby even if she were pregnant. He had already asked for Emma Lynn's hand in marriage. She knew he was in love with Emma Lynn, not Rebecca Jane.

Mrs. Goodwin was a shrewd woman. He was sure it was her business sense that garnered much of the success of the Goodwin business. She was not one to just throw away four hundred dollars frivolously. There had to be something he was missing.

"If it's a boy, I thought we could name him Woodrow after the President," his mother chattered on.

"If what's a boy?"

"The baby.
Your baby."

Henry shook his head in frustration remembering the ridiculous web of lies he had spun. He was getting tired of it and decided it had to stop.

"There is no baby, Mother," he blurted.

She looked confused. "I don't understand."

"Rebecca Jane is not pregnant."

"But why are you getting married so soon if there is no baby? Why can't you wait and have a nice wedding like Mary Anna did? If you two are so in love, surely you can wait. Wouldn't it be lovely to have something at the
Grande
Hotel?"

Henry sighed. "I'm not marrying Rebecca Jane. I'm not in love with her. I'm in love with ...
" Henry
paused and stared into his mother's confused yet hopeful face. He knew what he was about to tell her just might kill her but he couldn't help it. He promised Emma Lynn that she would never hurt again. And despite what she said, pretending to marry her sister had to be hurtful. He was tired of being the scared little boy who couldn't stand up for his love. Things had to change. That change started with admitting his feelings to his mother. "I'm in love with Emma Lynn."

His mother blinked a few times but didn't respond immediately. She opened her mouth to say something then closed it again. She looked off into space for a moment before saying. "Henry, what is going on? I don't know any Emma Lynn."

"Yes you do mother. She's the girl who lives with the
Goodwins
. She runs the store."

"The colored girl?"

Henry nodded.

"But, Henry, how can you be in love with a Negro? What about Rebecca Jane? How must that make her feel?"

Henry took a deep breath and pressed his eyes shut with his fingertips. His mother didn't understand. "Mother, listen to me. There was, nor never
will be
, anything between Rebecca Jane and me. I am in love with Emma Lynn and I am marrying her tomorrow."

"What?" she exclaimed leaping from the couch. "Henry, this is nonsense. You can't do this. You can't bring a Negro into this family. What will your father say? What about your brothers? You'll ruin us."

"I don't care."

"You don't care? You don't care about your family?"

"Yes. No. I mean …" Now he was the one getting confused. "I do care about my family; I just care about Emma Lynn more." Henry grabbed his mother’s hands and led her back to the sofa. "Mother, please understand. I have to do this. She's like the air to me. I can't live without her."

Henry begged his mother with his eyes to accept his decision and welcome Emma Lynn into the Miller family. But somehow deep in the recesses of his soul, he knew that wouldn't happen.

"Henry, I don't know what to say." She slowly slipped her hands out of his as if her own son was suddenly unclean.

Standing, Henry placed his hat on his head. "That's all right, Mother. You don't have to say anything."

"I won't tell your father about this, okay dear?" She thought she was helping. Offering to keep his secret was his mother's olive branch. But it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted acceptance, not more avoidance and lies.

He nodded as he headed toward the door.

"Or your brothers, for that matter," she added. "They've been through enough. First, Negros
take
their jobs and now a Negro is taking their brother."

Henry tried to ignore the look of disgust on his mother's face but it was nearly impossible. It was a look he would have to get used to. Was he really prepared for a life like this? He closed his eyes and conjured an image of Emma Lynn's face. Yes, he was.

Frank

It had taken him all day and several hundred dollars in bribes, but Frank was finally able to piece together what was going on with his betrothed. Rebecca Jane was having an affair with a Negro. It was the same piano playing darkie that she sang with at the party. How dare she embarrass him like this?

Frank poured himself another glass of rum. How many did that make?
Four?
Five?
It didn't matter. He wanted to drink himself to death. If word got out that he had been rejected for a Negro, it would ruin him and he might as well be dead any way.

There had to be a way he could fix this, he thought as he twirled his revolver around his finger.

"Whoa, Frankie.
Is that loaded?" his friend Maxim asked.

"Well, of course it's loaded. What good is an unloaded gun?"

"Well, then stop twirling it like that. You're likely to shoot one of us," Bart said. He tried to reach for the gun to take it out of Frank's hand, but even an intoxicated Frank had quicker reflexes than the slightly overweight
Bartholemew
Tanden
.

Frank grabbed Bart's hand and twisted it around his back then pointed the gun to his head. "Maybe that's exactly what I want to do."

Maxim's kitchen was suddenly quiet. "Come on Frankie old boy," Maxim said. "You're upset with Rebecca Jane. Not us." He let out a nervous giggle, apparently trying to lighten the mood. "Why don't we help you teach her a lesson?"

Frank slowly put the gun down and looked a question at Maxim. "What do you mean? Teach her a lesson how?"

Maxim shrugged. "Um, I'm not sure. But what I am sure of is that what she did to you is not right. She's yours and she gave what's yours to a Negro. I say you go over and take what's yours."

Putting the gun down, Frank seemed to think this over.

Bart rubbed his shoulder as he said, "I don't see why you'd even want her anymore after a Negro has been with her. That's just disgusting."

In his fuzzy and intoxicated brain nothing made sense to him anymore. Part of him wanted nothing to do with Rebecca Jane because she had given herself to a Negro. The other part of him wanted her even more to prove that he was better than said Negro. In any case, sitting there polishing off a bottle of rum wasn't going to solve his dilemma.

"Let's go," he said, tucking his gun into his jacket and grabbing his bottle.

"Where are you going?" Bart asked.

"It's time I had a little chat with my fiancée."

"I don't like that tone in your voice, Frank," Bart said. "There are other girls out there. Mary
Wheathers
has always had a thing for you. Why don't you just ask her out and forget about Rebecca Jane?"

Suddenly, Frank wondered why he even spent time with the chubby, wide-eyed Bart
Tanden
. He wasn't sophisticated enough and just didn't understand the world the way he and Maxim did. The only reason Bart was ever included was because they were first cousins. Frank's mother forced him to include Bart since Bart had no other friends. Looking at him, it was easy to understand why.

"It's not a matter of there being other girls," Maxim said. "Frank has had several other girls. It's a matter of honor and what's right. I do believe Ms. Goodwin needs to be taught a lesson."

"What kind of a lesson? I don't understand what's happening."

"Just shut up and get in the car," Frank said, pushing Bart out of his chair.