“Join the Red Cross.
All You Need is a Heart and a Dollar”
—American Red Cross recruitment poster, 1917
Martha McCoy could hear a persistent pounding coming from the back of her mother’s house. She pulled open the screen and stepped into the parlor. “Hey, Mama!”
The pounding didn’t stop as Alafair’s voice greeted her. “I’m in the kitchen, honey.”
Martha paused in the kitchen door. Alafair was standing at the big table, assaulting a piece of meat with a mallet. “You getting ready to fix dinner?”
Alafair finally forbore from pulverizing long enough to wipe her brow with her apron tail and smile at her daughter. “I’ve got a bit of this round steak left. Thought I’d fix it up for your daddy’s dinner. I am glad to see you, honey, but I sure never look for you to travel all the way out here at this time of day. You want to stay and eat?”
“No, Mama, I have to go to a special Red Cross meeting in a bit. I just decided to stop by on my way over to Mary’s.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I don’t see enough of you these days. You want to say hey to your uncle while you’re here? I think he’s in the stable with your daddy.”
“No time today, Ma.” The hammering started again as Martha seated herself at the end of the table. “I heard a thing from Streeter last night that concerns Uncle Robin, and I thought I’d better tell you before you get wind of it somewhere else.”
Alafair hesitated and looked up.
Martha met her gaze. “There’s talk that the Working Class Union is planning to make trouble in Muskogee when they draw the numbers for the draft lottery.”
“I don’t concern myself with those things, Martha.”
“You might want to start, Mama. Streeter heard a rumor from one of his clients in Muskogee that the I.W.W. sent someone here to Oklahoma especially to help the anti-draft faction start a rebellion. You know, give them advice and guidance.”
Martha’s warning gave Alafair a frisson of alarm. “What do you mean by a rebellion?”
“The word is that a passel of W.C.U. tenant farmers and such aim to resist the draft any way they can. Vandalism, sabotage, kidnapping, ambushing lawmen and landowners, anything they can do to create civil unrest.” She paused and looked away for an instant before continuing. “I was thinking that it’s quite a coincidence that Uncle Robin has shown up just now.”
The hair on Alafair’s arms stood up, but she leaped to Rob’s defense. “Martha, folks shouldn’t listen to such claptrap, and neither should you. My brother assures me that he is only here to visit his kin for a short while, and not on any union business. Robin might be a professional rabble-rouser, but he is no advocate for civil war. Besides, he would never do anything to call trouble down on his family.”
“That’s what I told Streeter.” Martha’s dark eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t know what to believe. Streeter doesn’t know Robin, not like we do. Right now I don’t think that most in-town folks are even aware that Uncle Robin is here, and even fewer know that he’s a union organizer. Streeter thinks that as long as Robin keeps his opinions to himself while he’s here, the mayor and the rest of the board won’t be inclined to bother him.”
Alafair was insulted by the implication. “How big of them!”
Martha bit her lip. “Ma, maybe you’d better have a talk with Uncle Robin. I know he’s your brother and you don’t want to believe anything bad about him. I’d feel the same way if it was Gee Dub or Charlie. But you don’t really know what Robin is like anymore. Maybe it’s as you say. I expect that it is. But if he’s here for some secret anti-war reason, he’s like to bring suffering down on all of us.”
“I will. I swear I don’t know about folks anymore!”
Martha started to say something, but hesitated. Her expression made Alafair put down her mallet. “What’s the matter, honey? Don’t feel bad that you told me that. Robin has always been a gadfly. I’m used to hearing wild rumors about him.”
“It’s not…” Martha began, before her face crumpled. She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped her eyes. “It’s not just that, Mama. It’s this Red Cross thing. I just got a letter from the state office saying that no one with a German last name can serve. I’m supposed to tell my own sister that she can’t come to the meetings anymore.”
For a moment, Alafair was speechless. Then she was overcome by a blaze of fury. The rage on her face so alarmed Martha that she stood and grabbed her mother’s arm before she could dash out of the house with her mallet in hand and stave in someone’s head. “Ma! I’m going to fight this. That’s why I called a special meeting for tonight. We can’t let this stand. Why, Miz Schneberg will have to quit too, and Miz Schmidt from Wainright. I’m sure the other ladies in my chapter will be as outraged as I am. If the state office won’t listen to reason, we’ll resign and start a war relief group on our own.”
Alafair began to untie her apron. “I’m going with you over to Mary’s.”
“No, Ma, I’ll talk to her myself.” Martha was firm. “She and I can make our plans. If she wants to talk to you about it later I’m sure she’ll be over directly.”
Alafair gave in with bad grace, sorry that she couldn’t command her grown daughters like she used to. Alafair didn’t have Martha’s faith in the goodwill of the other women in the Red Cross chapter. She watched Martha pedal off on her bicycle toward Mary’s house, wondering how she was going to comfort both of them when their plans failed miserably.