The Conquest: The Story of a Negro PioneerMicheaux, Oscar
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The Conquest: The Story of a Negro Pioneer
Micheaux, Oscar
African American pioneers -- Fiction; Autobiographical fiction; South Dakota -- Fiction; Western stories
He had disliked me from the beginning, but there had been no way he
could get even. He was "getting even," spiting me, securing my wife by
coercion, and now spreading a report that I was mistreating her, in
order to justify his action.
"Mrs. McCraline," I said, speaking in a firm tone, "Do you believe
this?"
Evading the direct question, she answered:
"You should never have placed yourself or Orlean in such a position."
And then I understood. When Orlean had written her mother of the coming
of the child, Mrs. McCraline had not written or told the Reverend about
it.
I now understood, further, that she never told him anything, and never
gave him any information if she could avoid it. What my wife had told me
was proving itself, that is, that they got along with her father by
avoiding any friction. He could not be reasoned with, but I could not
believe any man would be mean enough to deliberately break up a home,
and that the home of his daughter, for so petty a reason. It became
clear to me that he ruled by making himself so disagreeable, that
everyone near gave in to him, to have peace.
He had only that morning gone to his work. On hearing me, Ethel came
downstairs and called up Claves. A few minutes later her mother called
me, saying Claves wanted to talk to me. When I took the receiver and
called "hello," he answered like a crazy man. I said:
"What is the matter? I do not understand what you are talking about."
"What are you doing in my house, after what you said about me?" he
shouted excitedly.
"Said about you?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied, "I hear you treated my wife like a dog, after I sent
her out there to attend to your wife, called me all kinds of bad names,
and said I was only a fifteen-cent jockey."
"Treated your wife ugly, and called you a jockey," here I came to and
said to myself that here was some more of the elder's work, but I
answered Claves: "I haven't the faintest idea of what you are talking
about. I treated your wife with the utmost courtesy while she was in
Dakota, I never mentioned your name in any such terms as you refer to,
and I am wholly at a loss to understand the condition of affairs I find
here. I am confused over it all."
"Well," he answered, "suppose you come down to where I work and we will
talk it over."
"I'll do that," I answered, and went down town where he worked on Wabash
avenue.
One thing I had noticed about him was, that while he was ignorant, he
was at least an honest, hard-working fellow, but was kept in fear by his
wife and the elder. I saw after talking to him, that he, like Mrs.
McCraline, did not believe a word of what the Reverend had told about
my mistreating his daughter, and that he submitted to the elder, as the
rest of the family did, for the sake of peace. But they were all trained
and avoided saying anything about the elder.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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