Music of Death Blues – Chapter 3

I was the first to recover. I wasn’t typically the one on the receiving end of Dai’s ire, but I had witnessed it before, though it rarely packed this much gunpowder. Like her mother, the dragon, Dai didn’t tolerate fools.

“Mrs. Stanton, sit, please.” I pulled out a chair. “Dr. Campbell is quite skilled in her craft, and we’d rather be safe than sorry.” If only I could get Dai to apply this same principle to other aspects of our lives, I mused. But it’d be best to stick to battles I thought I might win. “Unless you’d like us to call your regular physician?”

This earned me an amused snort. “The Pinkston clinic has better things to do than look at some scrapes on a silly old woman.” But she took the offered chair. “You needn’t waste your time either, missus, as I really should be going.” The last was aimed at Aiden. The submissive servant attitude she’d put on was no longer in sight.

“I don’t mind.” Aiden carefully opened her medical bag, her eyes gleaming. “This is an unusual opportunity for me.”

“To see what makes a colored woman tick?” It was more of an accusation than a question.

The brusque question caught me off guard, but Aiden took it in stride. “To work on a living person.”

Mrs. Stanton froze. “Come again?”

Aiden retrieved a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff from her bag. “Typically, I work at the hospital lab or on people who are already dead.”

Our guest leaped to her feet. “Just who are you people?”

Dai’s dazzling smile could have melted butter. “Why, Mrs. Stanton, whatever could you mean? We’re ordinary folk, just like yourself.”

The skeptical expression adorning our guest’s face said otherwise. I agreed with her—there was nothing ordinary about Dai or Aiden.

“I’m still lying in that alley, aren’t I?” Mrs. Stanton asked. “Dreaming while I’m dying. Waiting for the sweet Lord to come fetch me.”

She didn’t seem to notice as Aiden slipped the blood pressure cuff around her arm and took a reading. By this point, our guest’s glass-magnified eyes had grown so large I was sure Aiden had already easily checked them.

“Madam, you’re still alive and safe,” I said reassuringly. “We’re only here to help.”

I tried not to be offended when her mouth pulled slightly to the side, revealing her continued skepticism.

“Good job cleaning and bandaging these, Mrs. Stanton.” Aiden re-tightened the gauze over our guest’s right forearm. “Your blood pressure is slightly elevated, which is understandable, so that appears normal. Your pupils aren’t dilated, so you most likely don’t have a concussion, but if you start feeling dizzy or nauseated, get a headache, or feel generally unwell, please go to the clinic for further testing.”

Though typically timid, Aiden’s shyness melted away when it came to medical matters. Like Mrs. Stanton, circumstances dictated what facet of her personality we might see—although in the case of our guest, it looked to be revealed on purpose rather than something that occurred naturally.

“Now that that’s settled,” Dai piped up, “might you enlighten us about the circumstances that led to your present situation?”

I saw a shudder wrack our guest at the question. She looked away and said nothing.

“Do you know why they did this to you?” Dai asked softly.

“White folk don’t need a reason,” Mrs. Stanton said. “They just do as they please.”

“Some do. That’s true,” Dai admitted, “but that doesn’t mean they should be allowed to get away with it.”

Mrs. Stanton’s hands coiled into fists on her lap, her lips pressing into a thin line. “But they do get away with it.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t even try?” Dai asked, undaunted.

Our guest sighed, visibly forcing her hands to relax. “You don’t know…”

“What it’s like to be belittled? Mislabeled? Hated for the color of your skin?” Dai said. “The Jim Crow laws may have started out targeting the newly freed slaves after the Civil War, but they didn’t stay that way. They’ve been expanded to cover others—basically, anyone whose skin isn’t white or who they deem unworthy. And even more restrictive laws have been created over time that have affected you and others.” Dai slowly shook her head.

“My family may be more affluent than some, allowing us to own property and remain here, but if we’re caught without our permits, we can be thrown on a boat and shipped out immediately, or forced into years of hard labor before being expelled. I’ve lived here most of my life, and this is the only country I know, yet I will never be allowed to become a citizen. So I do have at least a smattering of an idea of what it’s like for you.”

Mrs. Stanton stared at Dai as if she had become some unexpected creature not of this world. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen Dai overcome someone with a barrage of information. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for our guest, even though it seemed to do the trick.

“Fine. I’ll tell you, and then I need to leave,” Mrs. Stanton said. “Though I don’t see what difference it will make.”

Dai smiled encouragingly. I traded glances with Aiden as she took a seat, wondering what we were about to get into.

“Early church service was over, and I was chatting with the ladies before going to the back to set up our potluck luncheon. Then one of the children ran over with a note.”

Dai nodded. “What did it say?”

Mrs. Stanton took a deep breath before plunging onward. “It said, ‘Ma, I need you. Meet me at Elm and Ackard. Julius.'” She went silent.

“Julius is your son?” Dai prodded.

“Yes, my youngest.” She wrung her hands. “He… he is not well.” She sighed. “He joined the Army toward the end of the Great War and came back different. So I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing. I just went.” She sighed again. “White men were waiting for me there. I think one even rode on the streetcar I took to get there. All I could think was that this must have been how they took my son Lemuel back in ’21.” Her voice shook. “There was a delivery truck waiting, with the back open, and before I could do anything, they had me inside. But I wasn’t having none of that!”

Some of the fire we’d glimpsed earlier was back. “I tried to jump back out before they got the doors closed, but one of ’em grabbed at my dress while another grabbed me by the waist. Then the truck was moving. I knocked the hats off their heads with my purse before one of ’em yanked it out of my hand. Lost my balance when the truck screeched to slow down, then the back opened again, and they threw me out!”

I felt as indignant as she sounded. What had the ruffians hoped to accomplish by this?

“Did they ever say anything?” Dai asked.

“No, nothing aside from some cursing. Which, now that you mention it, seems mighty peculiar.” Her brow furrowed for a moment, and then her eyes grew wide again. “And I still don’t know about Julius!” Mrs. Stanton leaped to her feet. “So now that I’ve answered your questions, you need to let me go!”

“Wait!” I also jumped to my feet, a shot of panic setting my nerves on edge. “It’s not safe for you out there alone.” It was hard not to envision these sinister figures with their unknown motives coming back to look for her and finishing whatever it was they’d started. Such scenarios plagued me occasionally about the Wus due to their precarious standing in society. “Please, for my own peace of mind, allow me to drive you home.”

Mrs. Stanton’s mouth fell open.