Glimmers of Change (40 page)

“Hey, you!” Pendergrast called. “Come back here. You will not be harmed.”

The soldier slowed, stopped, and turned back, his eyes wide with uncertainty.

Robert exchanged a quick look with Matthew. “Is he telling the truth?” There was so much chaotic confusion that he couldn’t make sense of what was happening, but the tightness in his gut told him the black man was walking into a trap. He opened his mouth to holler a warning, not caring if it opened him to suspicion. Again, he was too late.

As the soldier approached, a pleading expression on his face, Pendergrast smirked, pulled his pistol, and shot him in the face. Another policeman, seeing the soldier fall, put a bullet into his side. “We got him!” Pendergrast howled, rushing forward to hammer the fallen soldier’s head with his pistol. Then he straightened and walked away.

Robert felt sick. He saw two more blacks in uniform on the ground, presumably dead. He had not seen one black fire a gun or offer any resistance at all. “This is nothing but a slaughter,” he growled.

Matthew pressed his arm. “We have to get out of here,” he said urgently. “It’s only going to get crazier. Right now they are only shooting blacks in uniform, but that could change. Come on!”

Robert pushed down the bile in his stomach and started running again. Moments later they broke out onto South Street.

Matthew’s prophecy came true.

The mob quickly spread east and west along the street, shooting and beating any black person they came upon. Crazy yelling and pistol fire added to the chaos as black people fled, many of them screaming with terror. A young servant collapsed on the sidewalk, blood streaming from a gaping wound. A teenage boy fell in the street, lifting his hand for help as the mob ran past. One man stopped to give him a brutal kick in the head. The boy’s hand dropped.

Robert and Matthew pressed up against the side of a building, watching helplessly as black people continued to fall. Soldiers were the primary target, but no one was exempt. “We have to stop this!” Robert gasped.

“Why would you want to stop it?” a voice snarled.

Robert whipped his head around, just then realizing there were many white people pressed against the buildings. Instead of the horror he was feeling, most of the faces reflected angry satisfaction. The man who had spoken to him was rotund and bald, his blue eyes glittering with something that looked like glee. Robert scowled. “It’s wrong,” he said angrily.

The glittering eyes flattened to a deadly cobalt as the man stared at him. “You some kind of nigger lover?”

Robert, in spite of his fury, quickly realized he and Matthew could also be in danger if he said what he was thinking. They had come to get Moses. They would do him no good if they were hurt or killed. They had fought their way out of messes since their college days together but taking on a mob was foolish. He merely shrugged, exchanged a glance with Matthew, and then moved out into the street, walking rapidly toward the fort. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw blacks coming out to gather up the fallen, but his relief died quickly when he acknowledged that most of them must surely be dead.

Moses felt sick to his stomach as he listened from his place on the wall. He couldn’t see much of what was going on, but the fusillade of bullets and the screams told their own story. Most of the men had been called into their barracks, but Moses, not being part of the unit, had been left alone. Anger and pain warred in him, pulling up memories and depths of feeling he had been trying to tamp down since the end of the war. He tried to force himself to breathe evenly, but his chest heaved with raw emotion.

His attention was caught by a flash of movement across the street from the fort gate. As he watched, he saw a man in uniform peer around the corner and then dash across the road toward the fort, terror written all over his face. Moses slid off the wall and hurried down to the gate just in time to see them open enough for the man to slip through. Only then did he recognize him as one of the soldiers he had met his first day at the fort. “Frank Williams?”

Frank whirled around, his lean face coated with dust. “Moses!” His face twisted with agony. “How many of the fellas are here?”

“Most of them,” Moses assured him. “What’s happening out there?”

“It’s bad,” Frank said grimly. “I was downtown when I heard rumors of a riot. I decided to check it out for myself. When I got to Main I found a bunch of police and white people attacking blacks. Then I saw Jimmy…” His breath caught. “We done served together since they let us in the army. They shot him, Moses. I watched him fall.” He shook his head. “I wanted to help him, but then I saw them shoot another soldier. I ran,” he mumbled, shame mixed with the pain in his eyes.

Moses gripped his arm. “You were wise to get out of there. Your uniform makes you a target.”

“That’s what I figured,” Frank agreed. “I got out of there as quick as I could. I knew I had to get to the fort. I ran down a cross street to Shelby, but I done found another group of people killing blacks.” His voice broke off as he shuddered. “Somehow I got away and came here.”

By the time he was finished with his report, many of his comrades had gathered around. Their faces were grim as they listened.

“We got to get out there!” one exclaimed. “My family be out there.”

“We can’t leave our families out there while we hide away like cowards!” another cried angrily.

Colonel Kappner, once the commander of the Third, walked up from behind them. “You all have to stay in the fort,” he ordered. “More black soldiers on the street will only stoke the violence. I know you’re frightened for your families, but your presence could just put them more in danger.”

Moses, knowing he was right, watched the men’s faces. He could tell Kappner’s warning had gotten through to some of them but angry agitation filled most of the faces as the muttering continued. Some of the men returned to their barracks, but about one hundred of them continued to mill around in confused indecision.

It was Roy who finally stepped forward to take control. “We ain’t in the army anymore,” he hollered loudly. “Ain’t no one can tell us what to do. Especially when they ain’t paid us for six months! I ain’t hiding out in this fort while my wife and children are gunned down.”

Moses understood why Colonel Kappner wanted them to stay in the fort, but he also couldn’t blame Roy for what he was feeling. He would never stay in the fort if he knew Rose, John, and Hope were in danger. The not knowing would kill him, and if something were to happen to them, the guilt would eat him alive.

“That’s right!” another man cried, rushing toward the gate. Within moments, the one hundred men who had been milling around followed him.

“You coming, Moses?” Roy challenged.

Moses shook his head slowly. As appalled as he was by what was happening, and as certain as he was that nothing would keep him inside if Rose and his children were in Memphis, he also knew it would serve no purpose for him to join in the riot. “No.”

Roy’s lip curled as he stared at him. “I thought you came to help us.” His voice was thick with contempt.

Moses understood his anger. There was a part of him that wanted to join in the melee. He welcomed the opportunity to release his anguish and anger with violence. Another part of him, the part that compelled him to stay in the fort, was telling him this was not the battle he was meant to fight. He didn’t understand it, but he couldn’t ignore the certainty he felt. “Be careful,” was all he said.

Roy glared at him and then turned to run through the gate, pulling out the pistol he had tucked in his waistband.

Moses watched him go, exchanged a long, sad look with Colonel Kappner, and then walked slowly to his scouting position on the wall. He no longer knew what he was looking for, but it felt better than hiding out in the barracks.

Robert and Matthew were close to the fort when they saw the gates burst open and discharge a large group of black soldiers. Instinctively, they ducked into a narrow opening between two buildings. They had seen no more white rioters in the past several blocks, but they didn’t know what was going on behind them.

Robert peered into the group, frantic to know what was happening with Moses but also hoping he was not with the soldiers obviously intent on retaliation. In spite of the fact that Moses was not in uniform, his massive size would make him an easy target. He breathed easier when he didn’t see his friend, but fresh worries over whether Moses had already been wounded or killed filled him.

“Right now we’re nothing but white men,” Matthew observed quietly. “I don’t know how we’re going to find Moses. At this very moment we’re just an easy target.” He glanced at the darkening sky. “We don’t want to be trapped down here at night.”

“And I’m not at all sure we want to follow the soldiers,” Robert replied. “I don’t think they would give us time to explain who we are.” He managed to grin. “We’ve found ourselves in some interesting positions, my friend, but I’m not sure how to get out of this one.”

Matthew nodded, his eyes fixed on the fort. “We take refuge in the fort,” he said grimly.

“Peter and Crandall will be worried,” Robert protested.

“Worry is better than grief,” Matthew said shortly. “Moses is smart. My bet is that he’s in the fort.”

“And if he’s not?”

“Then there is nothing else we can do tonight anyway,” Matthew said heavily. “I was the one who brought all of you to Memphis. The least I can do is try to get us out alive.”

“Robert! Matthew!”

Robert jerked his head around when he heard his name. His face split into a broad grin when he saw Moses peering down at them from the fort walls.

“I do believe we found Moses,” Matthew gasped with relief.

Checking to make sure no one was close by, the two men ran across the street and rapped on the fort gate.

It swung open immediately, but their way was blocked by two grim-faced soldiers. “Who are you?” one of them snapped.

“Friends of mine,” came the reply as Moses stepped into the light cast by the lanterns shining down on the yard.

The two soldiers, both white men from the Sixteenth Battalion, relaxed a little but held their guns ready. “That right?” one questioned.

Robert nodded. “Moses came to Memphis with us. When we heard about the riot, we came down to find him.”

The soldier who was speaking smirked. “Moses used to be your slave?” he questioned. “I heard some of the slaves aren’t real anxious to leave their masters. It’s good to know some of them still know their place.”

“There is not a single black person in this nation who would rather be a slave,” Matthew snapped. “The fact that you are ignorant enough to make that statement after serving with these men only shows how far we have to come. You’re a disgrace to your uniform! I’ll make sure to include your statement in my newspaper coverage of the riot, as well as the report I send to the government,
Private
Weathers.” He turned to Moses with a smile. “It’s good to see you, my friend. You had us worried.”

Moses turned to them as soon as they were out of range of the soldier. “This isn’t over,” he said urgently.