Oscar Micheaux - Chapter XVI Evil Genius: The Homesteader lyrics

"JEAN," breathed Orlean, from the bed, "where have you been ? " He had come unto the house then, and the man in him was much downcast. He was, and had cause to feel discouraged, sorrowful and sad. So he explained to the one who lay upon the bed where he had been, and what had happened to him, and why he had been delayed. She sighed when he was through and was sorry. For a long time he was on his knees at the bedside, and when an hour had pa**ed, she reached and placed her arm about his neck, and was thankful that he was spared to her, and they would live on hopeful ; but both felt their loss deeply. " I sent papa a telegram," she said presently. Because he knew he made no answer. He knew the other would come, and he was resigned as to what would follow. She sighed again. Perhaps it was because she knew and also feared what was to follow. . . . She had not known her father her lifetime without knowing what must happen. But she loved her husband, and now in the weak state the delivery had left her she was struggling to withstand the subtle at- tack her father was sure to make. Two days pa**ed, and she was progressing toward health as well as could be expected. Since her marriage her health on the whole had improved wonderfully. The petty aches and pains of which she complained formerly had gradually disappeared, and the western air had brought health and vigor to her. And then on the third day he arrived. Moreover, he brought Ethel with him. They rode over the hill that led to the claim in a hired rig, and Baptiste espied them as soon as they were in sight. Our pen cannot describe what Jean Baptiste read in the eyes of N. J. McCarthy when he alighted from the buggy and went into the house. But suffice to say, that what had pa**ed twenty-two years before had come back. There was to be war between them and as it had been then Baptiste was at a disadvantage, and must necessarily accept the inevitable. Ethel was crying, and her tears meant more than words. She had never cried for love. It had always been some- thing to the contrary. But we must turn to the one in bed and helpless ! She saw her father when he stepped from the buggy, and understood what he carried behind his masklike face. He did not allow his eyes to rest on Jean Baptiste, and she noted this. She settled back upon the pillow, and tried to compose herself for the event that was to be. Her husband was compromised, and could not defend himself. . . . Therefore it fell upon her and from the sick bed to defend him. He was inside the house now, and came toward her, and she was frightened when he was near and saw his face and what it held. Hatred within was there and she shuddered audibly. She closed her eyes to shut it out. Oh, the agony that came over her. She opened her eyes when his lips touched hers, and then began the struggle that was to be hers. "Papa," she whispered, and in her voice there was a great appeal. " Don't blame Jean. Jean has burdens, he has responsibilities he's all tied up! He's good to me, he loves me, he gives me all he has." But before she had finished, she knew that her appeal had fallen upon deaf ears. Her father had come and he had brought a purpose to be ful- filled. He caressed her; he said many foolish things, and she pretended to believe him; she made as if his coming had meant the saving of her life ; but she knew behind all he pretended was the evil, the evil that was his nature, and the fear that filled her breast made her weaker; made her sick. The doctor had said that she would be able to leave the bed in ten days, probably a week; but now with grim realization of what was before her she became weak, weaker, weakest. And all the time she saw that it was being charged to Jean Baptiste, and to his neglect. We should perhaps try to make clear at this point in this story that Jean Baptiste could have settled matters in a very simple manner. . . . True, the manner in which he could have settled it, would be the manner in which wars could be avoided by sacrificing principle. He could have gone to his Majesty and played a traitor to his nature by pretending to believe the Elder had been right and justified in everything; whereas, he, Jean Baptiste, had been as duly wrong. He could have acted in such a manner as to have his Majesty feel that he was a great man, that he had been honored by even knowing him, much less in being privileged to marry his daughter. This, in view of the fact that having been absent from her bedside at that crucial time, he was compromised, would have satisfied the Elder, and Baptiste would not have been compelled to forego all that later came to pa** in their relations. But Jean Baptiste had a principle, and was not a liar, nor a coward, nor a thief. And, although, he had been so unfortunte as not to have been by the bedside of his wife during that hour, he could have sentimentally appeased his father-in-law, but Jean Baptiste had not nor will he ever in the development of this story, sink so low. Of what was to come and the most is in this story, Jean Baptiste at no time sacrificed his manhood for any cause. N. Justine McCarthy, and this is true of too many of his race and to this cause may be attributed many of their failures, was not a reader. He never read anything but the newspapers briefly" and the Bible a little. He was, there- fore, not an informed man. As a result he took little interest in, and appreciated less, what the world is thinking and doing. He had never understood because he had not tried, what the people around where Jean Baptiste had come were doing for posterity. Yet he claimed very loudly to be an apostle of the race to be willing and was sacrificing his very soul for the cause of Ethiopia. He took great pride in telling and retelling how he had sacrificed for his family wife included. As he was heard by others, he had no faults; could do no wrong, and would surely reach heaven in the end! So while they lingered at the bedside of Orlean, he and Ethel, as a pastime argued with each other, and involved everybody but themselves with wrongs. For instance, the Reverend, affecting much piety, would in discussing his wife, whom he ever did in terms regarding her faults, find occasion to remark in a burst of self pity and of self pity he had an abundant supply: "After all I have done for that woman; after all I have sacrificed for her ; after all the patience I have endured while she has held me down kept me from being what I would have been and should, she is ever bursting out with: "You're the meanest man in the world! You're the meanest man in the world!" Whereupon he would affect a look of deep self pity and eternal mortification. Unless we lengthen the story unnecessarily, we would not have the space to relate all he said in reference to his son- in-law in subtle ways during these days. But Jean Baptiste was too busy building a barn and other buildings to listen to these compliments the Elder was bestowing upon his wife with regard to him. "Yes, my dear," he said time and again, "If Jean was like your father, you would not be here now with your child lying dead in the grave. No, no. You would be in the best hospital in Chicago, with nurses and attendants all about you and your darling baby at your side," and, so saying, he would affect another sigh of self pity. At first she had struggled to protest, but after a few days she gave up entirely and became resigned to the inevitable. She received an occasional diversion, however, when the Elder and Ethel entered into a controversy. Unlike Orlean, Ethel was not afraid of her father, especially when he had something to say about Glavis. The truth was, that while he so pretended, N. J. McCarthy had no more love for Glavis than he had for Baptiste; but he could tolerate Glavis because Glavis endeavored to satisfy his vanity. Baptiste, on the other hand, while he now accepted all his father-in-law chose to pour upon him in the way of rebuke for what he had done and should not have, and what he had not done and should have, he never told the Elder that he was a great man. The first few days the Elder had held the usual prayer; but after some days he dispensed with this, and turned all his energy to rebuking Jean Baptiste, when he was out of sight. "Now, don't you talk about Glavis," cried Ethel one day when his Majesty had tired of abusing Baptiste and sought a diversion by remarking that Glavis had come from a stumpy farm in the woodlands of Tennessee. "No, you don't! Glavis is my husband and you can't abuse him to his back like you are doing Baptiste!" "Just listen how she treats her father, Orlean," cried the Elder, overcome with self pity. Orlean then rebuked Ethel and chided her father. But the part which escaped her, was that Ethel defended her mate, while Orlean suffered to have hers rebuked at will. The greatest reason why Ethel and her father could not agree, as was well known, was that they were too much alike. When Jean Baptiste had completed his barn, and his wife was out of danger, according to the doctor but would never be according to the Elder who insisted that the only cure would be for her to return to Chicago with them, he was ready to go to work. His wife wanted to go to Chicago, for what the Reverend had done to her in the days he had sat by her and professed his great love, would have made her wish to go anywhere to appease him for even a day. "Now, after the expense we have been to," said Baptiste, "I hardly know whether I can let you go to Chicago or not." The Elder sighed, and said to her low enough for her husband's ears not to hear:" Just listen to that. After all I have done! Then I will have to pay your way to Chicago where I shall endeavor to save your life, your dear life which this man is trying to grind out of you to get rich." "But I'll think it over," said Baptiste." We have lots of work this summer, and will try to get caught up," and the next moment he was gone. "Did you hear that, daughter?" said the Reverend, now aloud, when the other's back was turned. " Oh, it's awful, the man you have married! Just crazy, crazy to get rich! And puts you after his work; after his horses; after his everything! And after all your poor old father has done for you," whereupon he let escape another sigh, and fell into tears of self pity. Orlean stroked his head and swallowed what she would have offered in defense of the man she had married. It was useless to offer defense, he had broken this down long since. "Yes, he is wanting to k**, to k** my poor daughter after all she has sacrificed," he sobbed," and when you are dead and in your grave like your baby is out in this wild 'country," his voice was breaking now with sobs," he will up and marry another woman to enjoy the fruits of your sacrifice!" He was lost in his own tears then, and could say no more. "Now, dear," she suddenly heard her husband, and looked up to find that he had returned. He stooped and kissed her fondly, and then went on : "I am going up to my sister's homestead to start the men to work with the engine breaking the land and I must haul them the coal, which I will get at Colome. Now I will not be back for several days, but will make up my mind in the meantime as to whether I can let you go to Chicago or not." "All right, dear," she said, raising from the bed and caressing him long and lingeringly. She could not under- stand how much she wanted him then, it seemed that she could hold him so forever. She kissed him again and again, and as he pa**ed out of the room she looked after him long and lingeringly, and upon her face was a heavenly smile as he pa**ed out of sight and disappeared over the hill. As he did so, the Elder got from his position at the other side of the bed, went to the door, and also watched him out sight. As he turned away, Baptiste's grandmother who had fed many a preacher back there in old Illinois, the Reverend included, started. She had seen his face, and what she had seen therein had frightened her. When he went back into the room and to the bed where Orlean lay, she dropped by the table and buried her face in her old arms and sobbed, long and silently. And a close observer could have heard these shaken words: "Poor Jean, poor Jean, poor Orlean, oh, poor Orlean! You made all the fight you could but you were weak. You were doomed before you started, for he knew you and knew you were weak. But would to God that the world could end today, for it will end tomorrow for you two. Poor Orlean, poor Jean!"