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Dusk was just falling when he returned home. He and Miss Erma hadn’t encountered any trouble, but he’d worn his uniform and armed himself with a rifle and pistols just in case. There were increasing incidences of supremacists on the roads intent upon showing the former slaves they were no freer after the surrender than they’d been before. There’d been beatings and draggings, lynching and murders. It was his hope that Allie and her brothers would arrive home safely. He didn’t worry much though. Both men were war veterans and heavily armed. Any supremacists looking for easy prey would not be met with smiles.
Drake made breakfast for himself the next day and decided he’d pay his mother a visit. He wanted to see how she and Valinda were faring and if the Sisters had assigned Valinda to another school. Truthfully, he just wanted to see the schoolteacher and her smile. After yesterday, he needed some beauty in his life. That she was pledged to another continued to be a disappointment, but he’d live with that.
First though he had an appointment with Fred Kirk, an elderly landowner who lived nearby. Drake and his men had converted an old stable into a two-stall carriage barn for him, and payment was due today. Kirk wasn’t the most honest individual. He had a reputation for offering partial payment and sometimes no payment at all to the tradespeople he hired. He’d promised Drake he would honor his bill, but in case he didn’t, Drake went to his shed to get an item that might come in handy and placed it in the bed of his wagon.
Drake drove onto Kirk’s property and proudly surveyed the newly constructed barn. It was made of brick and had a flat wooden roof, and small windows had been added to two of the outer walls so the interior would have light. He thought he and his men had done a good job. After parking his wagon, he walked up to the front door and knocked.
Kirk, who resembled an old turtle, answered the summons. “Morning, LeVeq. You here for your money?”
“Yes, sir.”
Drake took the bills and counted them. He paused, eyed the old man, and counted the amount again. “You’re short.”
Kirk raised his chin, showing off his scrawny neck. “It’s what I think the work is worth.”
Drake held on to his temper. “You gave me your word. The men who helped me build that barn expect to be paid in full.”
“You’re a wealthy man. You can foot the rest.”
Drake had been warned by some of the other builders in the area not to take on the job, but Drake had a soft heart. Kirk swore he’d pay and blamed not being able to hire anyone else on their holding grudges over past misunderstandings. “I need you to pay me what I’m owed, Mr. Kirk.”
“That’s all you’re getting, LeVeq, so be on your way.” With that, he gave Drake a smirk and closed the door in his face.
Outdone, Drake stood there for a moment, then growled softly, “Oh, I’ll be on my way all right.”
Walking to his wagon, he reached into the bed and lifted out a sledgehammer. After rolling the carriage inside a short distance away for safety, he returned, hefted the big sledgehammer, and took a mighty swing. He broke the windows out first. The sound of shattering glass was a symphony to his ears, and he smiled. His next target was the brick wall on the left. It was well-built, and didn’t succumb easily, but Drake didn’t care. He kept swinging.
Moments later, Fred Kirk came running up as fast as his ancient legs would carry him and yelled, “What are you doing!”
Drake stopped. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” And resumed the destruction.
“You can’t do this!”
Drake ignored him. The rhythmic thunder of the sledgehammer filled the air with mortar dust and shards of red brick. And did wonders for his still-angry soul. “You might want to step back out of the way.”
“Stop this!” he screamed.
Drake didn’t. His campaign soon destroyed the bricks supporting the wood framed roof, and it slumped down like a jilted lover.
“I’ll pay!”
“Too late.” Drake started in on the right wall.
It took him almost an hour to leave the barn in shambles, and when he was done, he eyed the piles of shattered bricks, glass, and wood, and mentally gave himself a pat on the back. Kirk, whose misery had mounted with each loud crack of the hammer, didn’t appear pleased at all.
Drake stretched his sore arms, then handed him back the money. He’d pay the men out of his personal funds. “Au revoir, Mr. Kirk.”
He walked to his wagon, tossed the sledgehammer in the bed, and drove away.
