The following is an outside departure from my other work. This will be a historical drama from the turn of the last century. In an odd way is the same as it is today. Social upheaval, technological shifts that dwarf the social structure of the times and religious shifts that play against the changes in society in Europe and the USA.
Take time and understand the changes taking place back then, as are happening now.
Being a fledgling historian, I will be keeping this accurate to the times. This means racism, misogyny and at times domestic violence are not only tolerated but expected in certain stratum or this society. While my beliefs are opposite, I have spent time in various parts of our beloved country (USA), and I have found these beliefs to be alive and well. They may live in the shadows and darker corners, but they are there. They have peaked their heads out, as of late, but nowhere near what they once were.
This story travels back to the 'Once were'...1906.
PS. I have no damned Idea on where this is going.
***
Changing Times.
Drew leaned against his wagon on the outskirts of Clarion PA. He was there to meet his "future wife" and complete the transfer of goods that came with her dowery. This was not a marriage of love but a business deal to foist off a tattered pregnant woman. He was doing this so his boys could have a mother, and he could have a 'wife.'
It was not a deal to his liking, but it brought a small wealth and future sales for his farm equipment repair and manufacturing business.
His previous wife had died early in childbirth of his third. It had ripped his soul out, but life must move on and the 'lord shall provide.' This is what the bishop told him when he proposed this match.
His soon to be wife, technically they were already married according to documents created by the Presbyterian Church, would soon be here and in her 7th month of pregnancy. She came from a pious and wealthy family from Philadelphia. She was in Europe at some fancy school when she met a man and ran off with him.
They sent the Pinkertons after her and they found her along the coast of Spain. The man had gotten away or so the story goes. According to the report Drew accidently got to see part of, the bishop liking his cups and all, the man she ran off with was not only Spanish but of Moorish stock. A heathen Muslim is what the bishop called him.
While Drew was childhood friends with the bishop, he hated when his friend showed his dark side.
All Drew cared about was having someone to share in the burden of running the farm and taking care of his young sons. And a little help at his fledgling farm equipment business.
His 'wife' being literate and educated only added to the help. Over time and when the drama died down, he hoped she would instruct the local children. Maybe even help at the hospital. He hoped her education was more than just frou-frou art and women's stuff.
He was also worried about her baby...he did not want to dig another grave under the trees on the upper place. Once it was born, the bishop had an orphanage that might take it.
Her family wanted nothing to do with the 'Heathen Nigga Baby' as they told the bishop. The story was already created that the baby had died during birth and would then be whisked off into the night.
Drew would do what he could for her during these future months, he had gained some medical training in the Army prior to that fiasco in Cuba. Of course, the training was self-taught, but he had learned some from a soldier that claimed he was a doctor back home. Drew could hardly believe that that let a colored man become a doctor. Lewis was a good man until he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and vanished into dust from an artillery round.
Drew had used that experience with treating medical issues. He had charged up San Juan hill with LT Colonel Teddy Rosevelt just 10 years past. He learned about all types of medical issues and even delivered a few babies in the local villages when he was not walking picket.
Yet he could not save his Clara from death. The Eclampsia took her, and in such pain. If not for his two sons, he would have wanted to die with her.
And here he was, standing next to his wagon, his horse nibbling on the fall grass waiting, as the sun was edging towards the hills in the west. His neighbors were always shocked that he could work on engines and work the steam plants, but he used his horses and wagons most of the time.
He would just shake his head and not answer. Why would he even want one of those 'automobiles' for driving around. He had his wagons. They were his fathers and uncles before him. His horses were easy. And he gained a new one from that pest of a neighbors that bought one of the engine coaches and turned his horse to pasture. Drew paid hardly anything for him.
His horses head raised and the ears rotated. He just smiled and puffed on his pipe. He could hear the clop, clop, clop off in the distance. It was Henry and he was bringing his 'bride' and her dowry goods from the train.
He looked past his horse and saw the bend in the meadow road. Henrry swung left and kept the center of the newly graveled road. One thing he had to say about the motor coaches and their arrival in northwestern Pennsylvania, the County sure seemed to spend more time and effort fixing the roads. His horse danced a bit in her halter and snickered over to Henry's black stud. She had a foal by the big black handsome stud and by her dancing Drew knew she would like another.
As soon as they were nosed to nose the whinnying gained octaves.
Drew watched as Henry jumped off his wagon and then walked under the neck of his male to get to Drew.
"Henry, good to see you" and Henry took his hand and pulled him closer. Drew stepped in and they hugged. They had been best friends since early childhood and been on that same hill in Cuba.
"Seems like our local war hero needed a bit of excitement, so he does this...?"
Henry stated, sweeping his hand back to a woman sitting on the cold hard solid wooden drivers' bench and a mountain of goods strapped to the wagon.
Drew stepped closer to Henry so only he could hear.
"Henry, I will ask you again. Please do not call me that especially now in these occasions."
Henry rolled back laughing, "Yes friend...I will behave." He leaned into Drew and whispered, "Your bride is beautiful. If not for my Thelma..." he leaned back and thumped the smaller man on the shoulder making Drew do a stutter step to keep himself upright.
Drew finally looked up and found the eyes of his 'wife.' They were large and expressive. Her face was covered by what seemed from Drews determination, to be an expensive silk scarf. Road dust was one of those facts and she must have seen the need, as many do. Drew just did an internal shrug and continued to look at her eyes.
Henry was right, she at least incredibly beautiful eyes. As she arched her brow, he noted very pretty brows too. They were sculpted so she must do what he had heard about and plucked hers, so they were fashionable.
Drew finally quit staring and nodded and tipped his hat in normal greeting.
"Mam" was the only thing he could choke out as he turned his head to look at Henry.
It was at this moment both horses decided to proclaim their love for each other.
"Damn Blacks...try to mount anything." Henry shouted more out of mirth than anything.
Drews's eyes shot to his 'wife' and saw horrors. Drew took two steps forward and touched her leg through her dress and multiple petticoats.
She yanked her leg away from his touch and looked around for a way to escape her situation. After just a moment she burst into tears and bent so her face was in the multiple layers of fabric between her knees.
Drew creeped closer to the side of the wagon and whispered to her.
"The big oaf was talking about the two huge black stallions. They are both black and many of us pay his stud fees because the foals are the best in the three counties. No one knows of your troubles except for the Reverend, and the Bishop. "
She turned her head on her knees and looked him in the eyes, "Truley?"
