Chapter 37

The irony of the money wasn’t the last of the ironies, or justice that resulted from Harvey Wilson taking his family to Catfish Hollow, and promising to ruin the life of the only teacher willing to teach the children of that community. There would be more to come in the next year, though none of them knew that then.

When men’s eyes lit up, and then became guarded, as they examined the Civil War era sniper rifle Nathan Wilson took them for appraisal, their off-hand offers rang false to the mind of a newly trained observer. He didn’t tell them who he was, or what he did, but the reaction was always the same: greed. It shone in their eyes as they fondled the rifle and accompanying scope. They usually said the guns were old and probably shot-out, but were interesting as a curiosity. One man offered thirty dollars, and another fifty. At that point, Nathan took the gun to a retired Police officer who ran the armory of the KCMO Police Department, who did some research. What he found was very interesting.

The hexagonally-bored Whitworth rifle was so unusual and rare that even information about it was “collectable.” One collector he spoke to made reference to some records in the archives of the Truman Presidential Library, so the armorer drove over there to take a look at them. What he found was that there was a government record of investigation pertaining to the sale of some rifles, in 1864, by a British arms merchant to a known Southern sympathizer who lived in Missouri. The investigation included a list of seven Whitworth rifles, identified by serial number. Because the Whitworth wasn’t in usage by the Union, during the war, it was assumed he had procured them for his friends in the Confederacy. Nothing had been proven against him, however, primarily because the rifles had never been found. The armorer was astonished to find that the serial number of the rifle Nathan had given him to examine was on that list. Not only did this rifle have intrinsic value as a rare antique, it also appeared to have important historical value as well.

His examination of the weapon, which he took completely apart, suggested it had never been fired. The scope was not listed in the records, but it would have been made by a different company, so that wasn’t strange. He showed Nathan how to mount the scope, and they left it mounted on the rifle.

Nathan thanked him. “You know, I might know where the other six are,” he said.

The old gunsmith looked at him with penetrating eyes. “You lay your hands on the other six weapons in that lot, and let me negotiate with a couple of museums, and I’ll make us both rich men.”

“I might be able to do that,” said Nathan.

The man stared at him. “I can’t make this happen if they’re stolen,” he said.

“You can check with every police department on the continent, and you won’t find a report about that rifle, or the others,” said Nathan.

“You’re from down South ... aren’t you?” asked the man.

Nathan nodded.

“Rich men, young fella. Both of us, and that’s with me only taking ten percent.”

Nathan couldn’t schedule another trip back to get the rest of the rifles for months. In the meantime, he and Flossie stood in front of a Justice of the Peace, and got married. The man didn’t bat an eye.

Flossie, with nothing to do during the day, took walks on the farm she now lived on. It was too late in the season to plant a garden, but she planned out a big one for next year. She didn’t mind that Curtis Lee lived with them. He sometimes took the car and went someplace, or worked a different patrol shift than Nathan did, and she and her husband had plenty of time to be alone together. Her belly grew, and Nathan continued to have long one-sided conversations with his daughter, as he now addressed her. No names had been chosen yet.

Then Curtis Lee bought his own car. If he and Nathan were working together, they left a car at home. If they worked different shifts, there was still a car available to provide Flossie with transportation. One of the first things she did was inquire about teaching school. She found that the schools in Kansas City were still segregated, not by law, but by custom and population density. Black people lived in the same areas, so the schools in those areas were attended by black children. Whites lived in other areas, and their children filled those schools. A new school, in the black part of Kansas City, Kansas, called Douglass, was being built, and would be opened in September of 1963. It would have 25 classrooms, a library, offices and an multi-purpose room. With this expansion of classroom space, the administration was eager to hire her to work in the new school. That would give her time to have the baby and do some continuing education at the University Of Missouri, Kansas City, which she knew would be needed to acclimate her to Northern schools. The money from the gold had been banked, toward buying their own house some day, and while Nathan’s job supported them, she loved teaching and wanted to work.

Nathan and Curtis Lee were not able to return to Catfish Hollow until May, a month after Flossie had delivered to him a nine pound boy, with caramel colored skin, and kinky black hair over a face that, other than the color, resembled any white child.

They had not, based on both Flossie’s and Marian’s intuition, thought of any names for a boy. Nathan teased her, offering names like “Surprise” and “Oops”. Flossie insisted on Nathan Junior.

“I like a man named Nathan,” she said, ignoring her husband and talking to the baby, who was sucking lustily at one swollen breast. “And you eat like a hog, just like that man,” she cooed. “So I just have to call you Nathan.”

Once it was clear that the baby was as healthy as a horse, and the mother was well recovered from an extremely difficult labor with a baby so big, Nathan took a picture with a Kodak Brownie camera, had two prints made, and he and Curtis Lee took off to deliver the picture to his mother.

They needed to hurry, this time, having to make the trip and get back in just two days. Their days off this week were Wednesday and Thursday, and they had to be back for the Friday shift. To that end, they drove through the night and delivered the money first, while the kids were in school. Their thinly disguised excuse for enriching the families of their school mates came completely undone when each family was handed five hundred dollars in cash, which amounted to three quarters of their normal yearly income as sharecroppers.

“I can’t take this kind of money for that junk!” said a completely overwhelmed Minnie Cripps, pointing vaguely at the things Luthor had gathered together “for the next time Nathan comes shopping”.

“Ma’am,” said Nathan. “I don’t have time to argue with you. We’re kind of in a hurry.”

“But this is crazy!“ she moaned. Her eyes took on a wary look. “Where did you get this money?” she asked.

“All I can tell you is that it’s part of Luthor’s share of some good fortune that came our way,” said Nathan, beginning to worry. He hadn’t thought he’d have to beg people to take money. “I really can’t tell you more than that,” he said firmly.

“It’s not stolen ... is it?” she asked, backing away from him. That was the only thing she could think of that would account for such an amount of money.

“No, Ma’am,” he said firmly. “I promise you that. I have to go. I’ll just leave it here.” He put the money on the table, and backed up. He hated to lie, but he could already hear this woman demanding that her son tell her what was going on. If he did, it could ruin things. “And Ma’am, please don’t ask Luthor about this. He doesn’t know about this. There will be more, if things continue to work out, but people asking a lot of questions could stop that if they wanted to. We’re just trying to help our friends, that’s all. We wouldn’t have driven all the way down here just to cause you trouble. This is just meant to help out.”

She followed him out to the car, where Curtis Lee was waiting, in the driver’s seat. When she saw him, she looked at Nathan. Tears started streaming down her face. He gave her a quick hug, and got in the car. She stood there until they were out of sight.

It was much the same at the other houses. Jesse’s father was at home, and tried to turn the money down, fearing it was some trap that the white boy was manufacturing. Only when Curtis Lee took him aside and spoke at length with him, did he accept it.

Mrs. Finshaw had stared him straight in the eye and asked what she had to do for the money. When he’d told her he was simply trying to buy antiques, she’d snorted and suggested that he tell his mother that this kind of thing wasn’t necessary.

“My Mamma?” he asked confused. “She doesn’t know anything about this, Ma’am.”

Curtis Lee had also had to talk to her. She looked puzzled when she finally accepted the money and watched them drive off.

Nathan dropped Curtis Lee off at Flossie’s house, which sat, undisturbed. Flossie still hadn’t gotten around to trying to figure out what to do with it. Her clothes were gone, but most other things had been left behind, including the furniture. Curtis Lee said He’d sleep there that night, and they could get an early start in the morning. Nathan planned on staying at his parents’ house, where he expected to be kept up late talking to his mother.

His unannounced arrival caused an uproar, at least with the women in the house. When he got there, only his mother was home, and she almost collapsed when he said he had a picture of her new grandson.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see it or not,” he said, nervous now.

“Of course I want to see it, you goose!” she said, a catch in her voice.

When he pulled it out of his wallet, she snatched it from his hands and stared at it for long moments.

“He has your nose,” she said softly, “and your chin too. Ohhhh he’s so cute!”

“Thanks Mamma,” said Nathan, relieved. He had elected to use color film, but the obvious mixed race of the baby had caused him to wish he hadn’t when he got the prints back from the drugstore.

She sniffled for a while, trying not to cry, but held on to the picture when he reached for it.

“This is mine!” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’ll make sure to hide it well, but you can’t have it back.”

“How are the girls?” he asked, finally.

Marian threw up her hands.

“I’ve been helping the new teacher at school. It didn’t take me long to see those mooney-eyed looks that Hilda Mae and that Moses boy were trading. It’s been everything I could do to keep them apart. Thank goodness he’s going to graduate and go up there with you to be a policeman. And Bernadette is just so surly, Nathan. It’s like her best friend died or something! She’s going to graduate in three weeks, and then I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Are you still mad at me?” he asked. Her letters, after that last visit had been somewhat stiff for a few weeks, but had gotten much more friendly since then.

“Oh, I know it wasn’t you,” she said, getting up to get him a piece of cake. “There weren’t any suitable boys around, and we couldn’t help that.” She looked at the picture of her grandson again. “What am I going to do if all my grandbabies look like this?” she asked.

“Love them?” he suggested carefully.

“Of course I’ll love them!” she said. “But he’s so ... brown!”

“Send them to college, then,” he said. “Maybe they’ll meet some ... suitable boys ... there. You know, forget all about ... the others.”

She looked at her son with pity in her eyes. “Don’t you go trying to make me feel better. You don’t know anything about women, I can plainly see that. Even if we could afford to send Bernadette to college, which is no fit place for a girl, if you ask me, all she’d do is go off to find Curtis Lee in Kansas City. And Hilda Mae’s no better. I know she sneaks off to meet Moses sometimes. I can’t lock her in her room, but I wish I could sometimes. Mable Finshaw and I are at our wit’s ends!”

“You’ve met Mrs. Finshaw?” he asked carefully. That explained her reaction when, not two hours ago, he’d tried to hand the woman five hundred dollars.

“I had to talk to her when school started and I saw how smitten they were with each other,” his mother said. “She’s just as aware as I am how wrong it is for them to think like that towards each other. I see her every couple of weeks or so. It takes both of us to ride herd on those two, and they still manage to get alone every once in a while, despite everything we do. We threaten and threaten and it just doesn’t do any good at all! As I said, we’re both relieved that he’ll be coming North to go that police academy of yours in July.”