Dread Nation (Dread Nation #1)(50)
I smile sweetly in Bill’s direction as we follow him back to the general store. Bill is not the kind to open a door for a lady, so Katherine and I let ourselves in while he posts up next to the entryway, tilting his hat low again.
The man behind the counter of the general store, a Mr. Washington, is kind and helpful, and gives me two sets of loose-fitting trousers, two shirts of a rough material, a pair of sturdy boots that appear used, and a single set of underthings.
“This is all you get for free. Anything else you have to buy. Shopping day for Negroes is Tuesday. Don’t try to come round any other day than that, the sheriff will just have you thrown out. Also, you’ll need to buy winter gear early. Last year I was clean out of coats come November, and I don’t know where you’re from, but January here is no joking matter.”
“You got anything nicer for Miss Kate?” I say, raising my head defiantly.
Mr. Washington narrows his eyes at me. “That’s all I got for clothing.”
Katherine gives Mr. Washington a kind smile. “I apologize, sir. Jane is a good girl but a bit protective, as an Attendant should be. She meant to ask, do you have any clothes suitable for a lady?”
Mr. Washington’s expression softens and he shakes his head, looking truly saddened. “No, miss. I’m afraid you’ll have to see Mrs. Allen for that.”
He moves away, and I lean in to Katherine. “At least it ain’t striped,” I say. She scowls at me and I grin wide. “And hey! You stopped arguing about being white.”
“You’d better be right about this. I dislike lying.”
“It gets easier the more you do it.”
Mr. Washington comes back with a ledger and asks us to make our mark. I put an X where he indicates while Katherine signs with a flourish.
We thank Mr. Washington and carry our bundles out of the store. Bill stands when he sees us and gestures down the street.
“You’ll share a room with the rest of your kind above the Duchess’s place. Sheriff won’t send you out to the line today, he’s a good Christian and the pastor thinks even animals deserve a day off after the trip out here. You’ll eat with the rest of the girls, patrol with them, what have you. For now you’ll use the weapons out on the line.” Bill spits again. “Try not to get yourselves killed too quickly. I bet Pete you girls would last to All Saints’ Day at least.”
The door to the sheriff’s office opens, and another of his flunkies walks toward us. “Pastor says the blond one is white. Test checks out. We gotta walk her to the church. Other one can go on patrol, though.”
Katherine stands up straighter. “I require my Attendant by my side. It isn’t proper to be walking around unprotected.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on you,” the man says, giving Katherine a grin that makes me feel like I ate something foul.
“Not likely,” I say, putting myself between Katherine and the man. “It ain’t proper and I’m here to make sure Miss Katherine is cared for like the lady she is.” I spread my feet in a defensive position. Attendants get training in hand-to-hand combat because the dead ain’t the only threat to young ladies of good breeding. Besides, I’d like nothing more than to have a reason to break one of these fella’s faces.
“Let the girl walk Miss Deveraux to the church. You know how the pastor feels about his ladies,” Bill says, voice low. He leers at Katherine for a moment before he leans in close to me. “I look forward to straightening out that sideways attitude of yours.”
He and his friend walk off back toward the sheriff’s office, leaving me and Katherine alone for the first time since we arrived in Summerland. She turns toward me, her expression impassive. “Jane, I fear we have landed ourselves in a certifiably terrible place.”
A bubble of hysterical laughter threatens to well up, and I have to swallow it back down. “What was your first clue?”
“As I said earlier, I trust your devious brain is working through a way out of this pickle. This town is terrifying.”
I set off toward the church, Katherine yapping all the while. I ain’t sure what to expect in Summerland’s house of the Lord. Nothing good, though. Even under the best of circumstances me and preachers don’t mix so well. And these circumstances ain’t anywhere near the neighborhood of good. Katherine and I both stink to high heaven, and I can’t expect that a man of God will want to tolerate our stench any more than we do.
As we walk, Katherine’s voice is getting more and more hysterical. “There’s a separate shopping day for Negroes, I have been called a darkie at least four times today, and I’m pretty sure that Bob called us animals.”
“Bill.”
“What?”
I sigh. “That fella’s name was Bill. Bob was the other one. And you’re a white woman now, so don’t get your knickers in a twist whenever someone says something about Negroes. You’re supposed to enjoy talking down to colored folks.”
Katherine stops and puts her hands on her hips. I pause as well, half turning toward her. Her lips are pursed with displeasure. “How on earth am I supposed to live a lie, one that will surely end up with me dead if anyone discovers the truth?”
I don’t say anything, because she’s right. A couple of years ago a Baltimore shopkeeper named Rusty Barnes was discovered to be a Negro who’d been passing as a white man. A mob looted his shop and burned it to the ground. They would’ve killed Rusty as well if Jackson and I hadn’t managed to sneak him out of the county. There’s nothing white folks hate more than realizing they accidentally treated a Negro like a person.