Black, White, and RED All Over, part 4-- Ironwood Hamilton from #freewrite in an extended story!

Welcome and thank you once again to the @freewritehouse for making me the adoptee of the week! Here is still more extra content for everyone's enjoyment: part 4 of "Black, White, and RED All Over"!

Kind of hard to start in the middle, I know ... here are Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3, and here's a quick summary: Captain Ironwood Hamilton of the police force of Tinyville, VA wakes up with the rest of Lofton County to the coming of the Lofton County Free Voice, the new and confrontational Black newspaper. Yet he is not surprised, having in his desk the Free Voice's demand for information about all the police actions in the county involving Black citizens, and knowing he has to make a decision about that explosive information. He invites his fellow police officers to dinner to see where their minds are about that same decision, and finds them less than cooperative except for his police captain cousin in Big Loft, who is so angered by the behavior of his colleagues that his anger triggers a bout of illness.

Captain Hamilton takes his cousin home to recover and enjoy the weekend with his family, but Cousin Harry accompanies Captain Hamilton to his half-day of Saturday work, and helps Captain Hamilton work through the complex legal issues around the Free Voice's request and reach his decision. Captain Hamilton now has to communicate his decision to the Lofton County Free Voice, on Sunday …

(and after my dividing graphic, we now get on into that)

Sunday – everybody was up early getting into their Sunday best, and Captain Hamilton took that day off of his workout to work with some steel-cut oats … one whole hour of slow-cooking with milk, molasses, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and finished with butter and nuts and dried fruits. It was Sunday breakfast, and yes, Ira and Agnew didn't want to just eat it. They wanted to worship it, as only babies can … they wanted to rub it all over their bodies and roll around in it and get into the pot if they could.

Everyone enjoyed, including six “extra” children that came over to eat. They were welcomed and served heartily, and enjoyed the company of the Hamilton children before thanking their hosts and going over the fields back to their homes.

Roadside Southern Baptist was just that – just off the old country road between Tinyville and Littleburg, and attracted all the Southern Baptists of those two towns. It was the survivor of both Captain Hamilton's childhood church and the old Southern Baptist of Littleburg When Captain Hamilton remembered all the circumstances of those collapses, it was emotional enough.

Yet on this day, in light of the triple miscarriages of justice that had been going on all throughout the county … and how the presumably large Christian presence in Lofton County had restrained so little of that … and then to make sense to what he had witnessed growing up and knew was off … it was good that it was children's Sunday, and he could focus on all the children instead of looking into the faces old and new, all day long …

There were people in that church he had known all his life, whom he loved … but in thinking of it he had always been drawn to the ones who were not in prominence, or noticed by the prominent, the ones who quietly ministered to everyone around them before, during, and after church … the ones who had looked with kindness on those whom others willfully overlooked … the ones who had suffered for doing so …

“Woody...?”

Captain Hamilton came to himself in tears as the rousing postlude was being played on the old organ. His wife was alarmed because of how rarely her husband showed such emotion in public, or even with the family unless at home in their private world. He and his cousin were not dissimilar in that they showed a marble front that hid deep emotion and deep, deep pain from the world. Captain Hamilton smiled more readily everywhere, but …

“Would you like to go on a quick drive with me while Sunday dinner on the yard is going on, Aggie?”

“Of course, Woody.”

He would tell her. Always and as long as they both lived, he would confide in her, and vice versa. At Roadside's dinners, the Hamilton little ones would be well-supervised both by their elder siblings and church staff, and their parents could have half an hour alone before returning to re-join the fun.

Mrs. Hamilton squeezed her husband's hand, and he smiled, took his handkerchief, and in a few moments was himself again, cheerily greeting and meeting and all the rest. Yet there was a poignancy about it that the more sensitive picked up, and they lingered a moment or two to pray with the captain.

Captain Lee touched Mrs. Hamilton gently on her elbow.

“I don't know if you have noticed,” he said, “but your church is splitting before our eyes.”

“I see it,” Mrs. Hamilton said. “Woody has been saying it never was really together, but, it is close and the Word is preached faithfully – but yes, Harry, I know.”

Outside: Cousin Harry distracted Ira and Agnew so their parents could slip away for a little while – and, off they clambered into Captain Hamilton's pickup truck. Mrs. Hamilton could tell her husband was in quite a state because of how he was driving – flirting with breaking the county speed limit, white-knuckled on the steering wheel. His face was drawn – resolve, anger, both? – and only relaxed as they pulled up in front of Emanuel Baptist Church of Tinyville, VA.

Thomas Stepforth Sr., himself in tears, stepped forth in tears with his son's family all around him ... tears of joy as they all had been praising the Lord because Major Thomas Stepforth Jr. would be coming home after completing a full 20 years of service – and was retiring, so, home for good! His children, including his eldest son Thomas Stepforth III, were still rejoicing – “Thank you, God – I know You can do anything but fail, because Dad is coming home for good!”

The very last people Mr. Stepforth expected to see walking up on his family in this moment of rejoicing were the Hamiltons. He certainly knew the captain, and was developing a guarded, grudging, but definite respect for him. Mrs. Hamilton he knew from her trips with her littlest children, the same age as his youngest grandchildren – they were often seeing each other, and the New Yorker was forward and friendly and very sweet to his grandchildren. Mrs. Hamilton was one of those women that, if Mr. Stepforth discovered she was prejudiced, he would actually have been surprised.

Mr. Stepforth noticed that the captain had a letter in his hand, and restrained his surprise when the police officer walked right up with his wife and started greeting the entire family – Mrs. Hamilton knew everybody, and it was a surprisingly pleasant moment of introductions. Mrs. Stepforth Jr. broke the news about Major Stepforth coming home, and Mrs. Hamilton hugged her – “Friend, ask me if I understand your joy!” – and they started bawling all over each other as the littler children danced around them.

Meanwhile, the captain held the letter out to Mr. Stepforth.

“This is my response to the FOIA request from the Lofton County Free Voice,” he said. “I'm comfortable with not knowing its address, and comfortable with not asking you about it. Let them know from me, officially, that I am complying with the request.”

Mr. Stepforth jumped.

“You are?” he said.

“I sent it in writing, and they can quote me on it and call me a liar if I don't. I just want to discuss certain details in person. I'm asking you to use your influence to make that personal meeting happen, at a location comfortable to the Free Voice. I will make myself available at any time I don't have official business.”

“You will?”

“Yes, sir, I will. You, and the Free Voice, have my word.”

Mr. Stepforth felt like dancing down the stairs like one of the Nicholas Brothers in a tap routine, but he got hold of himself.

“Expect a call from me tonight – and clear your calendar for tomorrow morning.”

“I don't have any meetings – that will work.”

“Good day, sir.”

“Good day, sir.”

Victory, yet again; the celebration of the Stepforths trebled with the joy in the heart of the family patriarch, that one of the goals to which he had bent himself since moving to Tinyville, and seeing the plight of the community in which his grandchildren were growing up even as he had, was being met. Things were certainly changing!

“Thou, Lord!” he cried out, and again burst into tears of joy and went on and danced down those stairs with his old tap skills, raising the letter in his hand up to the sky in joyful praise as his family danced around him, after the Hamiltons had gone out of sight.

The Hamiltons were rolling down the old country roads back to their church … only when they were out of the truck and walking back toward the churchyard did Mrs. Hamilton notice the slight tremor in her husband's hands.

“Woody … ?”

“I've just surrendered, Agnes, to that FOIA demand, and will be asking for merciful terms tomorrow.”

“Oh, Woody … .”

“That doesn't bother me. That is the way the Lord is leading me. What bothers me is what we are about to go do, in light of how most of them would react to what I have just done. If I didn't know them well enough to know most of them would gladly hang me in the churchyard, that would be one thing, but I know these people. They are my people, my kindred, my neighbors, my culture, and to think that after 150 years of this region being in the Bible Belt, I know that most of them would hang me for following the Lord's leading and the law of the land. I know this. Yet I came back here. Working here I can handle. Acting like we are worshiping the same God? That is getting very difficult. It has been very difficult since both churches split, and my family fell through the cracks. It is now becoming nearly intolerable.”

“The wheat and the tares, Woody, the wheat and the tares … they have to grow up together,” Mrs. Hamilton said. “However, if you need to find another church to be at peace, I will follow you wherever you wish to go.”

Captain Hamilton turned to his wife with a smile.

“I know. You came with me here. You've gone around the country with me. That, I'm not worried about, yet.”

He drew her close, and murmured in her ear.

“What I'm really thinking of is something one of our neighbors who is feeding our neighbors in need has said … it may be time to found a new church in Tinyville, where God's children in Tinyville can worship in spirit in truth together.”

Mrs. Hamilton gasped from surprise, but then put her mouth by her husband's ear.

“Well, if we're going to get hung so God can get the glory, let's do it BIG, Ironwood. I'm with you. If we decide to do it, I'm with you 100 percent.”

She noticed immediately; the tension went out of her husband's body at that point. They returned to the churchyard after that, the secret between them steadying them both as they met and greeted and chatted with folks Captain Hamilton knew, all too well.

Captain Hamilton's cousin was having a far better time, having been led by Ira and Agnew Hamilton (figuratively speaking) into a world of little ones who just adored his singing and his willingness to play their games. The church's single women from ages 25 to 50 were also slowly closing ranks on his position, drawn by his good looks, his lack of a ring on the third finger of his left hand, and his utter giftedness with children.

“He doesn't look depressed now,” Mrs. Hamilton said, with a chuckle.

“If he's not careful,” said Captain Hamilton, “some poor girl will be fooled like you were.”

“And so he will get cured!” Mrs. Hamilton said triumphantly. “That man needs a helpmeet along with the right therapy and medical adjustments – he needs the right helpmeet to help him get the most of what he already has, and motivate him to get on off into it!”

“It's not going to be as easy for Harry,” Captain Hamilton said.

“It will be if God bring him the one meant for him, as I was meant for you – I'm praying for it!”

“Well, keep praying for it – the crowd is growing so it must be working!”

But Captain Lee waded through that crowd of hopeful ladies like they were not even there, when all was done – he greeted, he met, and walked on. He made a comment to Captain Hamilton that explained the situation to Mrs. Hamilton, when Captain Hamilton had shared his outreach to Mr. Stepforth.

“You are walking a hard path, Ham, but how the Lord has blessed you, in that you do not walk alone. Yet your courage even in that is above what most men could endure, in that you have dared to lead another down this dangerous path with you. I admire you without ever thinking I could meet you in courage.”

“Well, here's another chance to build some courage – Mr. Stepforth has made the connection, and the editor-in-chief and a reporter from the *Lofton County Free Voice *are coming to formalize my surrender tomorrow morning. Think you can talk your superiors in Big Loft into letting you peek in on the meeting?”

“They will doubtless be interested in hearing how you handle the paper's representatives, although I think they would be disappointed in your approach,” said Captain Lee. “However, life is full of disappointments!”

“Isn't it, now – I'll be disappointed if I don't see you at 10:45.”

“I'll try not to let you down, Ham.”

He drove off, looking much better than he had the day before, and the Hamiltons went on home to enjoy the rest of another fun-filled evening.

Sunday night was stay-up-late day in the summer, and after preparing for bed, folks worked on or played on or talked on into the night until they were caught nodding.

On this night, Mrs. Hamilton could gauge how her husband was feeling by what he did; he sat down right by her at her desk, and drew designs for her while letting Ira and Agnew climb up and down and show what they were also drawing. His designs that evening were open and spacious … the tension of the day had left him. They sat and discussed them while their children finally wound on down, and then, when everyone else had been put to bed or had gone to their rooms, the parents at last went to bed, and Mrs. Hamilton felt peace in her husband's body as he drew her to him.

“Good night, Woody … I'm already praying about your meeting tomorrow ...”

“I know. I love you. Thank you. Good night, Aggie.”

“I love you too, Woody. Good night.”

A sweet kiss, and Mrs. Hamilton felt her husband's body settle into sleep.

---

While waiting on the pivotal part 5, enjoy still MORE extra original content! I finished my entry for @bananafish's still-open Tell a Story To Me - Water World writing contest last night! Enjoy Super Blue (or, What Keeps On Floating) while you wait!