Page 87 of Magnolia Summer

“The lady asked you a question,” Truett said.

The sheriff glared at Truett for a long moment, then he spit a long stream of tobacco at his feet.

“This is none of your business, and if you don’t get out of here and keep your mouth shut, you and the lady will be sorry.” He glared at them some more. “Now git.”

Truett didn’t move. Neither did Celia.

“All right, then.” Sheriff Suggs grinned. “You can watch while I set fire to this Negro store.”

As Suggs turned and walked toward the front door, Truett leaped toward him. Curtis moved away from his prisoners and grabbed Truett by the neck just before he reached Suggs and dragged him back. Suggs disappeared inside.

What should I do? Celia took a step forward, her eyes glued to Truett.

Truett elbowed Curtis, breaking free of his grip, then slammed his fist into Curtis’s nose, and he fell to his knees on the ground.

Truett turned toward the store as the sheriff ran out of the front door. Flames leapt in the windows. He threw the torch down and mounted his horse.

Truett ran to the clothesline, which was not far from where they were standing. He yanked down two rag rugs and raced to the well. Celia hurried to help him. They soaked both rugs with a bucket of water.

Over her shoulder, she saw the men leave Annie’s father and mount their horses. They fired their guns in the air and filled the night with their hoots and laughter as they rode away.

Truett took one of the rugs and Celia the other and ran toward the burning building.

Inside the store Truett beating at the flames and Celia followed his example. There were so many fires going at once, at least six separate blazes all around the room.

Celia beat at some flour sacks and was quickly able to extinguish that fire. Then she moved to a wooden crate, which took a bit longer. She beat it until it was out. The room was filling with smoke and Celia began to cough. Her eyes and lungs burned and she could barely breathe. She began beating a bolt of cloth that was blazing high. Her chest ached and she wasn’t sure she could even lift her rug again.

Truett appeared beside her. He hit the blaze once and left the rug on top of it. Then he grabbed her around the waist and half dragged her toward the door.

They sank to their knees outside in the front yard. Celia coughed so hard she thought her throat would turn inside out. Truett was lying still on the ground beside her. She grabbed his shoulder.

“Truett, are you all right?”

He opened his eyes and smiled up at her. “We did it. We put out the fire.”

She laughed, sounding a little hysterical. Then she started coughing again. Truett sat up and pounded her on the back.

Annie and her family surrounded them. The women were weeping and thanking them. The men smiled and shook their hands.

“You saved us. You surely did.” He sank to his knees beside them. “My name’s Isaac Hartley and this is my brother Sam.” He pointed to the man beside him.

“Truett Beverly and Celia Wilcox. I’m afraid you still have a terrible loss on your hands.” Truett winced.

“Never you mind that. You saved me and my brother, and the store is still standing. I’m mighty beholden to you.” He shook their hands again. “Thank you. Thank you kindly.”

Celia wanted to sing with joy at knowing she and Truett had put out the fire, especially when Annie ran over and threw her arms around her neck. When she pulled away, Annie’s cheeks were glistening with tears.

“Thank you, Miss Wilcox. God sent you.”

“I’m so thankful God helped us.” The way Annie was looking at her made Celia ask, “What is it, Annie?”

“Miss Celia, I don’t understand. Why is Sheriff Suggs so mean but you and Dr. Beverly are so good? You’re white, and the sheriff is white. He wants to kill us but you help us? It don’t make sense. My uncle says it’s because we live in the South. He says people up North are different, but my granny says that’s just a fairy tale. It makes me afraid. I don’t know who hates me and who don’t.”

Celia sighed and squeezed Annie’s arm. “I know. But the truth is, whether you live in the South or the North, some people’s hearts are full of hate and some people’s are not, and it will always be that way, I suspect.”

Annie sighed. “I suspect so too. Some people are mean and some are not. It’s the same with colored folk.” She nodded with a wise look on her young, dark face.

Good and evil would always be warring for men’s hearts, but as long as there were good men like Truett, there was hope.