Red White and Black

Chapter Fifteen - Part A

Sammy

Sammy closed his checkbook with a sigh of dismay. Even though he was receiving small checks from the company's workman's compensation insurance and even smaller ones from the union, they didn't add up to quite as much as his regular paycheck. So the hole that had been getting deeper before the accident because his regular paychecks hadn't been enough to begin with and hadn't been since the mill had cut back on the overtime was now getting deeper at a more rapid rate. At least he wasn't using the car and burning up gas during his recovery period, that really would be enough to break the bank. Looking at the stack of unpaid bills, he knew he had to cut back somewhere but didn't know where or how. Already they were living as frugally as two people could.

And now Abbie was here. Oh, there was no question he was glad to have her visiting, and she had been a tremendous help around the house and with his mother, but she represented an increase in the grocery bills, and the water bill would be higher. He hated to think of the utility bill next month. He would be counting pennies to make everything work out.

The phone rang but he ignored it. These days when the phone rang it usually meant a bill collector or another doctor's office calling about an appointment for one of them. He didn't want to talk to anybody.

"Sam?" called his mother.

He didn't want to talk with her either.

"Sam, are you here?" she asked, wheeling her chair into the living room. "Why are you ignoring me?"

Sam sighed. He wished he could be alone. "Ma, I'm here. What's up?"

"I don't see why you couldn't have the courtesy to answer me when I call you," she said getting her nose bent out of joint.

"Ma! Enough already. I'm here, what do you want?"

Estelle folded her arms across her chest and waited. For a few moments, Sammy thought he would try to outwait her because tensions had been running higher than normal the last few days. In fact, since the accident and with him being cooped up inside the house for most of the time, he didn't think it would be long before one of them was digging a shallow grave for the other out in the backyard.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't answer you, I was paying the bills and just didn't want to be bothered."

"Well young man it's a sad day when a mother wanting to talk to her son is considered 'bothering' him. If your father were still around he'd have knocked your wad loose for that."

Sammy had grown to adulthood under the constant threat of his "wad" getting knocked loose but still had no clear idea of what it was. "You're right," he said. "I should've known better."

Mollified, Estelle patted him in the knee and proceeded. "That was Charlie Stewart from the mill on the phone. He said something about a safety review or hearing, something like that. It's to be Thursday at three in the afternoon."

"Yes!" Sammy exclaimed. "Finally."

"Oh my! What's the war whoop for?"

"Ha! The union steward finally got off his duff and did something other than collect dues." Sammy knew it was still going to be a fight, the mill never caved on anything. "What it means is those bastards down at the mill, if they are found guilty, may have to cough up some dough."

Estelle clearly didn't understand and Sammy grew frustrated having to explain. "If it can be proved they blew a safety regulation and I got injured because of it, they're gonna have to pay a nasty little fine and it will pave the way for me to reach a settlement with them." It was much more complicated than that, but there was no way in the world he could muster the patience to explain it to her.

To celebrate, he walked to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. "You want one? A beer?" he called back to his mother.

"Oh my, no, Sammy. Certainly not at this time of day. Would you want people to think your mother is a lush?"

Sammy walked back into the living room cradling the bottle in his hands, appreciating the feel of the cold glass against his skin. "Ma! Who on earth do you think is gonna find out if you have a beer at lunchtime on a Monday in the privacy of your own house? You think the temperance police got spies watching you? Is Alan Funt hiding behind the couch?"

He didn't bother mentioning the tiny flask of Irish whiskey she kept in her room and nipped from occasionally when her arthritis flared up. As far as he was concerned, that was her little secret and he was happy to let her have it, but this business about the beer seemed rather silly.

Still in a good mood, Sammy decided to check out his roses. The heat had been brutal the last week or so and they might have need of water. He made it outside as far as the first step of the front porch where, hammered by the wave of heat, he stopped and sat to sip at the beer. Hamm's beer. From the land of sky blue waters, comes the beer refreshing... That dancing Hamm's bear from the TV commercials always made him laugh. He grinned, rolling the frosty bottle back and forth between his palms. An ice cold drink always made the heat bearable, even pleasurable and he couldn't remember the last time he had the opportunity to sit on his porch on a scorching day sipping a cold one.

Draining the bottle, he decided the first tasted so good, it deserved a second. He retrieved it from the fridge and sat in the same spot, leaning against the railing and admiring his roses as they swayed ever so slightly in the almost imperceptible breeze. Finally, some good news, he thought, concerning the call from Charlie. It's about time something good happens in my life. If he won a fat settlement against the mill, it would be enough for him to hire a full time caretaker for his mother, giving her the kind of help she needed and deserved.

Pleasant thoughts swam lazily through his head, one after another drifting by until he spied a interracial couple rounding the corner down the street. A black man with a white woman. What was the world coming to? They paused at the corner, caught up in conversation before continuing their walk. At some point the guy put his arm around the white girl who just laughed and playfully pushed him away. Disgusting! Who would let their daughter run around with a nigger, let alone date one. The thought of them involved in anything beyond that sent chills up his spine.

As they approached, a sick feeling began to form in his belly. The war drums in his head started pounding in panic as he recognized the young girl. Abbie! A hot rage filled him like those cradles of molten steel at the mill. Without being aware of rising to his feet, he found himself at the end of his driveway, fists clenched and teeth gritted.