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Ross and his brother-in-law, Bernard, froze as a shot rang out through the woods. The fishing on the lake had been good, and they made their way back to Ross’s truck keeping their distance from the scattered cabins owned by a few of the community’s well-to-do white citizens. Colored folks in Virginia always had to be on the lookout for Klansmen.
Sounded like it came from over yonder, Ross pointed east. Probably somebody shooting at a snake or opossum.
A ruckus of voices floated in their direction.
Sounds like somebody might need help. Bernard headed in the direction of the noise, his two fishing poles and a line with catfish, suckers, and perch dangling.
Bernard. Ross’s voice seeped of caution. We shouldn’t get mixed up with white folks’ mess. If it is something, they’ll try to blame us.
We’ll keep our distance, but if somebody needs help, we should at least try.
Ross reluctantly increased his pace to catch up with him. The closer they got to the cabin, the louder the ruckus.
A woman’s high-pitched screams echoed around them. Oh my God. O dear God. You’ve killed her. Heavy sobs followed.
Get her the hell out of here, a man’s voice bellowed. How did this happen? He moaned.
The cabin door opened. Ross and Bernard stepped behind some trees.
A hysterical white woman was ushered out of the cabin by a colored woman. I’ll make you pay for this you no-good bastard. The woman screamed toward the cabin door, Murderer! Murderer! As God is my witness, I’ll make you pay!
Ross. Bernard looked bewildered. Is that Tilly putting that woman in the car?
Ross blinked and focused. It sure is. What the hell is she doing out here with these folks?
Tilly managed to get the woman in the passenger seat, where she slumped over sobbing. She scurried around the car, got in, and drove off. The sobbing white woman still vowing, I’m gonna make him pay for this.
