Mona, a mahogany-colored young woman dressed in a smock with a matching jacket and bustle, waited at the turnstile. Her miniature top hat sat cocked at a rakish angle atop her braided hair. First impressions were so important.
The train was late, and she dug her nails into her hands in an effort to quiet her nerves. If I don’t fix this they gonna kill him!
Fifteen minutes later, a whistle loudly announced the train’s arrival. Mona gazed along the tracks, wishing she could hurry it into the station. It pulled in, and folks carrying cardboard suitcases, hatboxes, and small children stepped off.
Mona watched a heavily built honey-brown man in a tweed suit stop in the doorway of the first passenger car. The blue cap she sought perched atop his wooly head. He held his only luggage between his big hands: a black jewel box.
He lifted a big hand to his cap. “Miz Mona …?” He had deep, booming voice.
“Yes, that's me.”
“I’m Charles Dubois. Am I too late?”
Mona barely restrained herself from hugging him in relief. “Naw, but we got to hurry! I got a car waiting!”
“Let’s go.”
They walked—almost ran—to the waiting steam-car. He turned the crank for her, and she drove them through town, past wooden houses and glass storefronts.
“This man they got, what is he to you?”
Mona swallowed and said nothing.
“Oh, I see … they got him for marrying your mama?”
Mona couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see judgment in his eyes, too. “Yes, suh.”
Charles chuckled. “You ain’t got to ‘suh’ me, and I ain’t judging you--not your mama or your papa, either.”
They came to a stop in front of the sheriff’s office. John opened the box. A gleaming gold bracelet lay inside, atop a bed of velvet.
Charles gingerly pulled out the bracelet out and handed it to her. “This ain’t gonna last forever,” he said. “It’ll soften their hearts for a while, but y’all got to watch the signs. If you can’t change their hearts, then get in the wind--and that right quick! You understand?”
Mona nodded. She took the bracelet from him and hid it in the folds of her dress. She went inside. A red-faced man wearing a silver star sat at the front desk. He glared at her, then leisurely got to his feet.
“Afternoon, suh.”
“What you want, gal?”
“I came to see … the prisoner.”
He eyed her contemptuously. “Go on to the back.”
Mona walked past him to the cell. A silver-haired white man waited inside for her. His face was covered with bruises. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the sheriff wasn't watching. She slipped the bracelet over his hand, kissed him on the cheek and walked away.
As she reached the door, she heard: “Henry? What you doing locked up?”
Mona smiled and went outside to thank the hoodoo man … and to wait for her father.
Do you see?
Yes, I see.