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Authors: Ginny Dye

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BOOK: Glimmers of Change
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“How do you do it?” Opal asked enviously.

“Do it?”

“You’ve got your everyday dress on, and still you manage to look regal. I swear you look just like a queen surveying her kingdom. I, on the other hand, look like a frumpy, overweight black woman.”

Jewel laughed. “Nonsense. You look like a carin’, lovin’ mother who will do anythin’ to take care of them she loves. You be strong, sensitive and kind. That’s what
I
see when I look at you.” She waved her hand over the plants. “I never would have thought to do this. Our owner didn’t let us have our own gardens. I sho nuff love bein’ free, but I’m still learnin’ how to live this way,” she said regretfully. “I’m not sure I’m doing it very good.”

Opal snorted. “You’re doing just fine, Jewel. You have a home, your kids are in school, and your husband has a good job.”

“Because of Eddie,” Jewel observed. “Clark tried for a job at Cromwell Factory before, but he got turned down. As soon as Eddie got here and went to work, somethin’ came open for him. Eddie never said nothin’ when we asked, but I knows it be because of him.”

Opal merely smiled, pleased the arrangement was working for everyone. She had started at the factory just two weeks earlier. She couldn’t say sewing was something she enjoyed, but she was getting the hang of it. Even helping with household expenses, she and Eddie were able to put some money aside toward the new restaurant they dreamed of. Jewel stayed home to watch the kids to make sure they stayed out of trouble and went to school.

“Marcus is coming for dinner tonight,” Jewel announced.

“That’s good,” Opal murmured, pulling tiny weeds from around the fledgling onion shoots. “He and Eddie been friends for a right long time. I’m glad he was still here in Richmond.”

“He says he hopes there will be sweet potato casserole.”

Opal chuckled. “At least I will have one customer when we open our new restaurant.” She pulled the last weeds and stood, brushing the dirt off her dress. “It’s already in the oven.” She glanced at the pile of wood next to the back door. “Did Carl and George fill the wood box in the kitchen?”

Jewel nodded but her thoughts were on something else. “I can hardly wait for the Emancipation Parade tomorrow.”

Opal nodded, her thoughts full of memories. “I can hardly believe it’s been a year since Richmond fell.” Her lips twitched. “I imagine the white folks are still mad we’re celebrating it now, instead of back in January when the Emancipation Proclamation was signed.”

Jewel shrugged. “We’re free now. Folks didn’t for real
feel
free until Richmond fell and all them black soldiers came pouring into town. Me and Clark didn’t know nothin’ about it back then, but we done heard all the stories. It’s
our
day to celebrate.” Her face glowed with excitement. “Tomorrow is gonna be a fine day.”

“What time are the men going to be here tonight?” Opal asked.

“About an hour, I reckon. They had a meeting to go to at the church.”

“Jeremy going to be there?” Opal asked, still astonished at Jeremy’s involvement to help everyone. He had become a fixture at the Second African Baptist Church, showing up at least two nights a week after working at the factory. His business acumen was helping many of the men, and he was also helping them understand the political system.

“Not tonight,” Jewel answered. “Clark was here long enough to tell me some machines went down at the factory today. He’s staying late tonight to help fix them.”

 

 

Abby was tired after an achingly long day. She had seen Robert and Carrie off with two wagons loaded down with framing lumber, and as many school supplies as she could round up on such short notice. She would send another wagon full of books the next week when the Missionary Society delivered them. A telegraph to a good friend in Philadelphia, apprising her of the situation, had resulted in a promise of all the books she requested.

The factory was doing well, working at full speed to fill the orders pouring in. There was still tension, but there had been no outright violence. She knew Jeremy was largely responsible for that. He insisted on being involved with every part of the manufacturing process, spending every minute of the day working alongside the men — both black and white. His presence kept violence from brewing, but she hoped his open-minded fairness was working to gradually change attitudes. Nothing would truly change until people changed the way they thought.

“Long day, Mrs. Cromwell?” Spencer asked sympathetically.

Abby smiled warmly. “A long day,” she agreed, “but a good day.” She had told him about the fire at the plantation. “I sent Carrie and Robert home today with everything they need. With everyone working hard, I don’t think it will take time to rebuild the school.”

“Like my daddy said, lots of hands make easy labor,” Spencer responded. “I reckon he was right.”

Abby nodded and laid her head back against the carriage seat, staring up into the new leaves exploding all over the city. Even with all the destruction from the war, Richmond was a beautiful city. There was still a lot of work to be done, but so much had already been accomplished. Mountains of rubble had been moved outside the city limits, and new buildings were going up everywhere. She smiled as the last rays of the sun kissed the Capitol Building with a pink haze, admiring the dogwood trees that were bursting into bloom with white blossoms that stood out starkly in the waning light.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when the carriage slammed to a stop, the horses throwing up their heads and neighing in protest as a group of men stepped in front of them to form a barricade across the road. Abby sighed in irritation, too tired to feel alarm. She patted the carriage seat beside her and sat up erectly. “Why have you gentlemen stopped us?” she called crisply.

“We’ve stopped you because we have something to say,” one man called back.

Abby looked him over carefully. He was dressed well and his dark hair was carefully groomed. “You look like someone who should have the manners to know there is a better way to start a conversation,” she said calmly, only her eyes flashing her irritation.

The man scowled, anger twisting his features into something quite unpleasant. Abby felt her first twinge of alarm.

“And you look like a woman who would know there is a better way to run a factory than the way you and your husband are running it now,” he shot back.

Abby stiffened when she saw fury settle on the faces of the seven men standing with him, but she couldn’t resist taunting him. “So it takes eight of you to have a conversation with one woman? You could have come to the factory if you have something to say.”

The self-elected leader took a step forward. “I would suggest you not try any smart talk,” he growled. “We already know you and your husband think you can do things any way you want to. We’re here to tell you things don’t work down here the way they worked in Philadelphia.”

“Is that right?” Abby asked evenly, angry enough to be bold but all too aware she was at a disadvantage.

“That’s right,” the man snapped. “You have to lower the wages for the blacks at the factory. It’s not right that they’re being paid the same as white workers. We don’t do things that way here in Richmond.”

Abby knew it was useless to try reason. There was not a man staring at her who would be open to answers and reasoning. She slowly slid her hand beneath her lap blanket. “And if we don’t?”

Anger flared into fury the moment the words came from her mouth. The leader nodded his head curtly. She gasped when three of the men surged forward and grabbed Spencer by the arm, trying to haul him off the wagon seat. Spencer said nothing, but his tight grip on the seat held him in place.

Abby stood, pulling a pistol from beneath the blanket. Knowing the threat alone wouldn’t get their attention, she fired a shot into the air, hoping the noise would alert help but not having any confidence that it would get here in time. Richmond was still far too crowded for the police to have control. “Take your hands off my driver,” she snapped.

The three men cursed and fell back but stayed within easy reach of the wagon. Spencer remained silent, his face set and stoic.

The leader laughed harshly. “One woman with a pistol? Do you think you can stop all of us?”

Abby fought to keep her voice calm. “Probably not, but which ones of you are willing to find out whom I can stop? I have five bullets left in this pistol.” She reached under the blanket and pulled out another one. “I have six more in this one. At such close range, I imagine I could do a lot of damage.”

The leader swore but still snickered and waved his men forward, his face set in cold, harsh lines. They exchanged reluctant looks but did his bidding, grabbing Spencer by the arm and pulling him roughly.

Breathing a quiet prayer, Abby fought to control her pounding heart, then aimed and fired, shooting the front man in the leg. She felt sick when she saw the rapidly expanding blood on his pants.

Cursing louder, he fell back. “She shot me,” he yelled. “She shot me!”

The other two men jumped back, looking wildly between their leader and Abby’s pistol.

“And that’s just the first of you if you don’t all step back,” Abby said, cocking the hammer again. When the men fell back, she turned and aimed the pistol straight at the leader’s heart. “I shot your man in the leg because I think he’s a fool for following your lead. I’ll have no such compassion for you. If you are not out of our way in five seconds, this next bullet is going straight through your heart,” she said grimly. “What I do with my business is
my
business. I will not allow some cowardly man to dictate my actions.” The image of the burning schoolhouse added fuel to her anger. “Get out of our way!” she demanded, raising her other pistol to aim it at the rest of the men. “I’m not quite as good with my left hand,” she admitted, “so I’m not sure which one of you I will shoot, but I guess that is your problem, not mine.”

The other men fell back into the shadows. Only the leader held his position, his eyes glazed with hatred.

Abby took a deep breath, wondering if she could really shoot a man in the heart, but a quick glance at Spencer’s rigid shoulders assured her she could do whatever it took to protect them.

“We’re not finished,” the man growled. As he stepped back, he stared her in the eye. “There just might be a repeat of what happened to that schoolhouse,” he snapped. “Fire can be very destructive, don’t you think?”

Abby fought back a sudden urge to pull the trigger and relieve the world of this man. She held her hand steady, not looking away from the burning animosity in his eyes. “So can cowardice,” she said quietly. “Your attempts to save your beloved South are doing nothing but causing further destruction.” She leaned forward slightly. “I think now would be a good time to leave,” she whispered into Spencer’s ear. “Just don’t be in a hurry,” she said more loudly. “I’ll be happy to shoot anything that moves.”

Spencer lifted the reins slightly and moved the horses forward.

Abby didn’t take her eyes off the men until they had rounded a bend and gone a few blocks. As traffic increased in the busier part of town, she breathed her first steady breath. “Well…”

“It sure ain’t never boring driving you people around,” Spencer said quietly.

Abby laughed, sagging back against the seat. “I’d heard Carrie got you in some bad situations.”

Spencer nodded. “Yes, ma’am. She’s pretty good with a rifle, though. And then Hobbs started going with us.”

“Did you ever think of driving for someone else?”

“And miss out on all the fun?” Spencer protested. “Not a chance.”

Abby smiled but felt a quick surge of fear. “We have to go back to the factory,” she said suddenly.

“We can’t be going back there,” Spencer protested. “They might still be there, Mrs. Cromwell. Mr. Cromwell won’t never forgive me if I let something happen to you.”

“And I could never forgive myself if something happens to Thomas and Jeremy on the way home,” Abby replied, her heart pounding again as she imagined the group of men accosting her husband and brother-in-law outside the factory. “We have to warn them. Besides, there will be less danger with all of us together. Those men are too cowardly to come after all of us.”

Spencer sighed heavily and shook his head, but he turned the carriage around.

BOOK: Glimmers of Change
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