CHAPTER XXXIX
BEGINNING OF THE END
I waited to hear from my wife in Chicago but at the end of two weeks Ihad not heard from her, although I had written three letters, and a weeklater I journeyed to Colone and took a train for Chicago. When I calledat the house the next day her mother admitted me, but did not offer toshake hands. She informed me Orlean was out, but that it was the firsttime she had been out, as she had been very sick since coming home. WhenI asked her why Orlean had not written, she said:
"I understand you have mistreated my child."
"Mistreated Orlean!" I exclaimed. Then, looking into her eyes, I askedslowly, "Did Orlean tell you that?"
"No," she answered, looking away, "but my husband did."
Gradually, I learned from her, that the Reverend had circulated a reportthat Orlean was at death's door when he came to her bedside; if he hadnot arrived when he did, she would have died, and when she was wellenough to travel, he brought her home.
It was at last clear to me, as I sat with bowed head and feelingbewildered and unable to speak. I recalled the words of Miss Ankineighteen months before, "the biggest rascal in the Methodist church." Iremembered the time I had called and saw him driving his wife, who wasnow sitting before me, and the rest of it. I saw all that he had done.He had abused this woman for thirty years, and here and now, out ofspite and personal malice, because I had criticized the action ofcertain members of the race, and eulogized the work of Booker T.Washington, whom the elder, along with many of the older members of theministry, hated and would not allow his name mentioned in his home, Iwas to lose my wife, to pay the penalty.
He had disliked me from the beginning, but there had been no way hecould get even. He was "getting even," spiting me, securing my wife bycoercion, and now spreading a report that I was mistreating her, inorder to justify his action.
"Mrs. McCraline," I said, speaking in a firm tone, "Do you believethis?"
Evading the direct question, she answered:
"You should never have placed yourself or Orlean in such a position."And then I understood. When Orlean had written her mother of the comingof the child, Mrs. McCraline had not written or told the Reverend aboutit.
I now understood, further, that she never told him anything, and nevergave him any information if she could avoid it. What my wife had told mewas proving itself, that is, that they got along with her father byavoiding any friction. He could not be reasoned with, but I could notbelieve any man would be mean enough to deliberately break up a home,and that the home of his daughter, for so petty a reason. It becameclear to me that he ruled by making himself so disagreeable, thateveryone near gave in to him, to have peace.
He had only that morning gone to his work. On hearing me, Ethel camedownstairs and called up Claves. A few minutes later her mother calledme, saying Claves wanted to talk to me. When I took the receiver andcalled "hello," he answered like a crazy man. I said:
"What is the matter? I do not understand what you are talking about."
"What are you doing in my house, after what you said about me?" heshouted excitedly.
"Said about you?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied, "I hear you treated my wife like a dog, after I senther out there to attend to your wife, called me all kinds of bad names,and said I was only a fifteen-cent jockey."
"Treated your wife ugly, and called you a jockey," here I came to andsaid to myself that here was some more of the elder's work, but Ianswered Claves: "I haven't the faintest idea of what you are talkingabout. I treated your wife with the utmost courtesy while she was inDakota, I never mentioned your name in any such terms as you refer to,and I am wholly at a loss to understand the condition of affairs I findhere. I am confused over it all."
"Well," he answered, "suppose you come down to where I work and we willtalk it over."
"I'll do that," I answered, and went down town where he worked on Wabashavenue.
One thing I had noticed about him was, that while he was ignorant, hewas at least an honest, hard-working fellow, but was kept in fear by hiswife and the elder. I saw after talking to him, that he, like Mrs.McCraline, did not believe a word of what the Reverend had told aboutmy mistreating his daughter, and that he submitted to the elder, as therest of the family did, for the sake of peace. But they were all trainedand avoided saying anything about the elder.
During the conversation with Claves he told me he kept up the house,paid all the grocery bills, and half the payments. He had been advancedto a salary of eighteen dollars a week and seemed to be well liked bythe management.
I went to a hotel run by colored people, and at about seven-thirty thatevening, called up the house to see if Orlean had returned. She came tothe phone but before we had said much, were accidentally cut off.Hearing her voice excited me, and I wanted to see her, so hung up thereceiver and hurried to the house, some ten or twelve blocks away. WhenI rang the bell, Claves came to the door. Before he could let me enter,Ethel came running down the stairs, screaming as loudly as she could:
"Don't let him in! Don't let him in! You know what papa said! Don't youlet him in," and continued screaming as loud as possible.
I heard my wife crying in the back room. Claves had his hat on and cameoutside, saying:
"For God's sake, Ethel, hush up! You'll have all the neighborhood out."
She continued to scream, and to stop her, he closed the door. We wenttogether on State street and I took a few Scotch highballs and cocktailsto try to forget it.
The next day being Sunday, Claves said he would try to get Ethel off tochurch and then I could slip in and see Orlean, but she refused to goand when I called up, about the time I thought she would be gone, shewas on guard. My wife was at the phone and told me to come over and shewould try to slip out, but when I called, Ethel had made her go to bed.It seemed that she ran the house and all in it, when the elder was away.Mrs. McCraline came outside, took me by the arm and led me over toGroveland park, near the lake. Here she unfolded a plan whereby I shouldfind a room nearby, and she would slip Orlean over to it, but thisproved as unsuccessful as the other attempt, to steal a march on Ethel.She held the fort and I did not get to see my wife but one hour duringthe four days I was in Chicago. That was on Tuesday following, afterClaves had tried every trick and failed to get Ethel away. This time hesucceeded by telling her I had left town, but when I had been in thehouse an hour, Ethel came and started screaming. I had to get out beforeshe would stop.
The next day I called up and suggested to Orlean that I bring a doctorand leave her in his charge for I must return to Dakota. She consentedand I went to a young negro doctor on State street and took him to thehouse, but when we arrived, Ethel would not admit us. The doctor and Ihad roomed together before I left Chicago, while he was attending theNorthwestern Medical School, and we had always been good friends. He hadbeen enthusiastic over my success in the west and it made me feeldreadfully embarrassed when we were refused admittance. When I called upthe house later Ethel came to the phone, and said:
"How dare you bring a 'nigger doctor' to our house? Why, papa has neverhad a negro doctor in his house. Dr. Bryant is our doctor."
Dr. Bryant, a white doctor, is said to have the biggest practice amongcolored people, of any physician. That recalled to my mind some of theelder's declarations of a short time before. He had said on more thanone occasion:
"I am sacrificing my life for this race," and would appear muchaffected.
After I returned home, my wife began writing nice letters, and so didClaves, who had done all a hen-pecked husband could do to help my wifeand me. He wrote letters from the heart, declaring his intention to bemore than a friend. He would be a brother. I received a letter from him,which read:
Chicago, Ill., May 30, 19--.
DEAR FRIEND DEVEREAUX:
Your kind and welcome letter was received a few days ago and the reason you did not receive my last letter sooner was because I left it for Ethel to mail, and she didn't do so. I am glad to h
ear you are getting your flax in good shape, and the prospects are fair for a good crop, and now I will tell you about Orlean. She seems happier of late than she has been at any time since she came home. Now, I don't know how you will feel, but I know it relieves my conscience, when I say that your wife loves you, and talks of you--to me--all the time.
Those papers, and pamphlets you sent telling all about the display Nicholson brothers had on at the Omaha land show. She had opened it and when I came home she told me she could not wait because she was so anxious to hear about the Little Crow. She told me that Nicholson brothers were your best friends. I imagine they must be smart fellows for every paper in the batch you sent me had something about them in it. She took the money you sent her and bought some shoes and had some pictures made, so as to send you one. Mrs. Warner was over the next day, and said; "Where did you get the shoes?" and she answered, "My husband sent them to me."
Now, I hope you will not worry because she told me as soon as she was well enough she was going back to Dakota, and as for me, I intend to be more than a friend to you. I'm going to be a brother.
From your dear friend,
E.M. CLAVES.
My wife had written at the same time and used many "we" and "ours" inher letter, and I felt the trouble would soon be over and she would beat home.
That was the last letter I received from Claves, and when I heard frommy wife again, it was altogether different. Instead of an endearingepistle, it was one of accusation, downright abusive. I made nocomplaint, nor did I write to Claves to inquire why he had ceasedwriting. I had always judged people by their convictions and in this Iknew the cause.