Chapter 2: Fight!
“Come on, Joseph. Hurry! We’ve got to catch up with Jim.” Matthew gestured to a ten-year old black boy a little taller than himself as he broke into a run through the dusty street. “Hey, Jim! Wait up!”
A tall, redheaded boy about twenty yards ahead on the street stopped and turned toward Matthew. “Oh, it’s you, O’Toole. What do you want?”
Matthew stopped, panting slightly, while he caught his breath. “You’ve got to see my new sword! Joseph said it’s one of the best he’s ever seen.” Joseph, who had been trotting leisurely, pulled up to the two boys and nodded toward Jim.
Jim smirked. “So Joseph says it’s one of the best he’s ever seen, does he?”
Jim grabbed the sword blade from Matthew and eyed it suspiciously. “Well, I think it’s a piece of junk.”
Matthew looked indignant. “It’s not junk. Old Mr. Hayes, the blacksmith, said it was a good sword…once.”
“You gonna believe an old slave?” sneered Jim, leering at Joseph.
“He’s a good blacksmith,” Matthew fired back quickly. “He knows what he’s talking about.”
“Oh, yeah? I never knew a slave—any slave— who knew what he was talkin’ about,” said Jim, glaring directly at Joseph.”
“I’m no slave!” demanded Joseph. “My father’s a freeman and so am I!”
“Once a slave, always a slave, my father says,” said Jim mockingly.
“Well, I guess your father’s wrong, then,” said Matthew, his eyes locking with Jim’s.
“And I guess your father is a darn Yankee,” Jim fired back, poking his finger into Matthew’s chest. “And I guess that makes you a darn Yankee too…you and your whole family.”
“Sure, I was born in Boston. So what?” said Matthew in his cockiest tone. “I’m just as good as anybody born in Virginia.”
“You Yankees ain’t even as good as any black man born in Virginia! And that’s sayin’ something,” said Jim, his eyes shifting again to Joseph as he broke into a wide grin.
Matthew glared, his eyes narrowing. “There’s nothing wrong with either of us and you know it!” he demanded.
“Nothin’ wrong with you…Nothin’ wrong with you that goin’ to jail won’t solve. My daddy says that all the Yankees livin’ here in Richmond are goin’ to be rounded up and stuck in jail ‘til we win this war once and for all. My daddy says that you’re all just a bunch of spies and slave lovers and that you all deserve to go to jail.”
“You take that back!” screamed Matthew, dropping his sword blade, and throwing up his fists.
“Oh, go home to your mamma,” sneered Jim, turning to leave. But Matthew grabbed him by the shoulder and threw a wild punch that just grazed Jim’s arm. His face bright red, Jim turned to Matthew and shoved him to the ground. Immediately, he began to kick Matthew hard in the ribs as he lay sprawled on the ground. Joseph clenched his fists and took a step toward Jim.
“You touch me, black boy, and your father goes to jail! And they throw away the key,” bellowed Jim as he turned to face Joseph.
“Get up, Matthew. Get up and get out of here.” The voice was Ryan’s, who was striding quickly in their direction.
“Oh, so you get big brother to do all your fighting for you?” sneered Jim, kicking dirt at Matthew as he scrambled to his feet.
“I don’t need…” began Matthew angrily.
“I said, get out of here, Matthew. Go home…now,” ordered Ryan, trying hard to make his voice sound calm.
“Well big brother ain’t big enough to handle me, and he knows it,” taunted Jim as he turned to face Ryan.
“No reason for anyone to fight,” said Ryan, returning Jim’s glare. “We’ve all got things to do without having to do this.” Ryan turned to face his brother. “Let’s go.”
Matthew turned away and started to dust off his pants. Just then, Jim swooped down quickly to pickup a nearby rock. As he swung his arm back to throw it at Ryan, Matthew quickly grabbed the sword blade off the ground and whisked it at Jim. The blade glanced off the older boy’s ankle and he cried out in pain as the rock dropped out of his hand.
“Ow! You tryin’ to kill me? You tryin’ to kill me with that sword?” Jim screamed. “I’m gonna to get you for this! My father’s gonna get you—all three of you. He’s gonna put all three of you in jail, you darn Yankees!” Jim ran off quickly, obviously favoring his sore ankle.
“Oh, it barely nicked him,” said Matthew, a slight smile on his face.
“Just nicked him?” said Ryan. “Are you kidding? You could have taken his foot off with that blade.”
“Looked to me that he was running pretty fast for a boy with just one foot,” said Matthew, obviously pleased with his comment.
“Mother and Father aren’t going to think it was so funny,” said Ryan, scowling at his little brother. “You all right, Joseph?”
“I’m all right. He never touched me,” said Joseph, shaking his head.
“He’s lucky I didn’t…” began Matthew.
“You’re lucky you didn’t hurt Jim worse. Matthew,” said Ryan. “That boy can cause trouble.”
“What you mean…trouble?” asked Joseph.
“Well, his father’s on the city council. And our father says he’s one of the worst.”
“What does he mean? Is he going to put us all in jail?” Matthew asked quietly.
“He’s probably just talking. But he sure doesn’t like northerners, especially now that Richmond’s in trouble. And he’s not the only one. Two soldiers came to see father yesterday. Said they wanted to know whose side he’s on,” explained Ryan.
“What did Father say?” asked Matthew.
“Not much. Said he just wanted things to be peaceful.”
Joseph kicked the dirt in front of him. “My pa tells me that there are some people who want to make him a slave again. Maybe force him into the army.”
“I don’t know, Joseph,” answered Ryan. “I don’t think that’s likely, but I’ll have to ask my father.”
“Because my pa’s not goin’ to be a slave again, he tells me. He says he’d rather die first.”