Free Shadows of St. Louis by Leslie Dubois Page A

him. Henry was not behaving rationally and John was convinced that the key to this erratic behavior was this Negro girl. And it fell to him to fix the situation.
     
    ***
    John wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say to Emma Lynn. He just knew he needed to talk to her. He had never actually had to initiate a conversation with a Negro and didn't quite know what to expect. The only time he had ever spoken to one before was when a Negro asked him for directions. Angry at the fact that a Negro could afford a car while he couldn't, he remembered   intentionally sending him in the wrong direction. Beyond that short encounter, he had never had any interaction with that kind. He didn't know how to talk to them. He wasn't sure if Emma Lynn would be able to understand his logic and be able to discern how serious the situation really was.
    He stood outside the confectionary for several minutes watching her work. She wasn't horribly unattractive. In the right clothes, she might even be beautiful. He could understand how she tricked Frank into thinking she was Rebecca Jane. There were quite a few similarities. Too bad she was too dark.
    When the store was empty, John entered.
    "How may I help you?" Emma Lynn asked.
    John noticed her voice sounded strained. She also moved around the store pretty slowly. He wondered if she was in pain from Frank’s beating.
    "We have some fresh made fudge if you'd like to try some," she said when John didn't respond to her initial question.
    "No thank you," he said.
    "We also have peanut brittle if that is your fancy."
    "I'm not here for candy."
    Emma Lynn clutched her side and took a step away from John and toward the kitchen. Her lip started shaking subtly as she asked, "What do you want from me?"
    Suddenly, John realized he must be scaring her. She might be a Negro, but she was still a woman. She had every right to be afraid of a strange man coming into a candy store and not requesting candy. Especially considering what she had just been through with Frank. "No, I'm not going to hurt you."
    She took another step toward the kitchen. She was ready to run at the slightest inkling of danger.
    "I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself properly. My mother always says there's no excuse for bad manners."
    Emma Lynn didn't respond, but at least she didn't take another step away.
    "I'm John. John Miller. I believe you know my brother Henry."
    After a sigh of relief, Emma Lynn said, "Yes, he is our milkman."
    "I think we both know he is more than that to you."
    Once again she didn't respond. She seemed to still be determining whether John was friend or foe.
    John wondered what she would say if he asked her a direct question about the nature of her relationship with his brother. He knew it was hard for Negros to tell the truth. If she denied her feelings for Henry, John could then go back and tell him that he was wasting his time. This Negro wasn't worth the effort or the danger.
    "Do you or do you not have feelings for my brother?"
    Without hesitation she said, "I love him more than life."
    So taken aback by her clear and resolute response, John almost stumbled. He took a step forward and leaned on the counter. This was going to be harder than he thought. Maybe he would have to try to exploit this infatuation she had for Henry.
    "If you really love Henry, you'll stay away from him. Otherwise, you'll ruin his life."
    She was silent again. Maybe she realized this was the truth. He didn't know how much Negros were able to reason, but he thought he'd go a little further. "Henry will never be able to find work if he has a Negro wife. He'll never be accepted into a school. Even if he is somehow able to become a doctor, who is going to want to be taken care of by someone who sleeps with a Negro? Don't be selfish. Think about what you're doing to him."
    "You love Henry a lot, don’t you?" was her surprising response. He knew she wouldn't be able to understand simple logic.
    "Of course I do. He's my little