Chapter 7

Journal of Artemis Strapp

February 23

On my way to the Baltimore Messenger I took a shorter route in order to make up time. I did not often travel through this section of the city, known for Secessionist activity, but I felt haste was needed. As I rounded the corner of a building I came upon a disturbing scene. Four or five White men seemed on the verge of doing violence to one Negro man. I barely had time to comprehend the events before me when, almost without thinking I shouted at them.

“Hey! Get away from him! Take your mob somewhere else!”

The words seemed to hang in the air like mist; failing to dissipate or be carried away. I am not certain if it was fearlessness, or foolhardiness. The men glanced my way, almost as if they had misheard me. They laughed and turned back to their prey, who by this time had risen to his feet. I observed this Negro man who they were accosting. He was shorter than I, though powerfully built, an impeccable dresser (which made me rethink my current wardrobe options), with shoes polished to a high gloss, smart tie, vest, and coat, and certain sense of regal dignity. We made eye contact.

“I said get away from him now!” Some instinct making me bolder by the minute. They seemed to forget about the Negro man and all faced me, vile intent on their unclean faces. The person that seemed to be their designated leader spoke.

“What’s this shit huh? You mind your business or we’ll deal with you Yank!”

His automatic assumption that I was a Yankee made me smile. Although I did not affiliate with any political persuasion, the pestilence of slavery held no sway for me. The fact that I stood my ground, unafraid riled them up. They began walking toward me, and then I realized that I had no defense against this group. A miscalculation on my part; one I would remember from then on. Always go forth prepared for battle, even if there is no battle. When the group of thugs was about twenty paces away, I heard a whistle. We all turned to the sound and saw a small company of Union soldiers with firearms heading our direction.

The leader spat my direction, looked back at the Negro man with a glare of uncompromising hate, then made an obscene hand gesture to the Union soldiers. They did not take kindly to this, and within moments a brawl started, and abruptly ended with the thugs beaten and hauled away in chains by the Union soldiers, leaving the Negro man and I standing on opposite sides of the street facing each other but at a loss for words. He seemed surprised by this turn of events.

I found him quite fascinating.

“Well, that was an…er…rather interesting and invigorating series of events yes?” I

called out to him.

“I suppose.”

Not a very talkative fellow.

“You are not hurt, are you? I hope that my unplanned interruption benefitted you sir.”

He nodded at me, picked up his hat and turned the opposite direction from where I came. For some reason I could not let him out of my sight. I walked across the street over to him. He was immediately on alert and suspicious.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing! I mean…What is your name? I am very impressed with how you conducted yourself back there. My name is Doc…Artemis Strapp. And you are?”

He stopped walking and stared at me. I could see and sense a keen intellect at work in those eyes, the way they scanned me, as if analyzing my every intention. His body relaxed the slightest fraction, but he kept his stiff posture with one hand behind his back.

“Lucius Williamson, Esquire.”

He withdrew a small piece of paper from his pocket which I noticed seemed to hold a tarnished gold pocket watch. I took the offered paper and read it.

“Attorney at Law? This is fantastic! I did not know Negros could become lawyers! How long have you been a lawyer? Where did you practice? What made you want to become one?” I spewed these questions in rapid-fire succession as he stood there like a marble statue. Inscrutable. Perhaps my inquires overwhelmed him. No…bored him more likely. Then, I remembered Judith’s words to me on many an occasion when I would wax philosophical about one topic or another:

Oh sir, when you go on about this and that not many are willing to give back. Too many questions ain’t always the best thing, beggin’ your pardon Doctor! Too much can be too much if you know what I mean!

I am not the smartest man in the world, nor am I the dumbest. What Judith meant was sometimes I needed to shut up. I waited for him to reply, and when he began walking away, I walked with him, my journey to the Baltimore Messenger forgotten now that I was in the company of this fascinating stranger who would not give me the time of day.

        As we began walking, I felt the sensation of someone watching me. I turned and observed a small, frail-looking old man staring at me. His body was in disrepair, but his eyes, even from this distance, seemed to stare at me with great acuity. I faced front again, engaging Mr. Williamson in conversation, but the sensation of the strange man staring at me did not lessen until we several blocks away.

Chapter 8

The Diary of Lucius Williamson, Esq.

February 23

I have decided that God hates me. Try as I might I could not get rid of this irritating White man. Doctor Strapp (I picked up on this title even though he attempted not to tell me this) is insistent on finding out every nuance about my life. I am sure we were quite a sight to behold as we walked. Strapp, tall, well over six feet, thin, angular White doctor. His clothes high end but shabby and threadbare, as if his appearance no longer mattered to him. At least he smelled clean, although the tragedy of a beard on his face needed a razor. His was a face in between. In between needing a shave and not; and in between peace and grief. I had seen many grieving faces in my forty years of life, and this man knew something about grief.

Although I started off irritated, as we continued down the streets, past low- roofed brick buildings, tenets filled with boarders, loud eating establishments, houses of prostitution and the like, I was less irritated and more curious as to his intentions. I wondered as we walked along why he was taking an interest in me at all. All the White men I had known in my life either looked on me with disdain, or not at all, as if my material being was a thing invisible. Strapp actually seemed interested in me and my thoughts. He inquired after my educational history, jobs, apprenticeships, and everything in between.

Strapp was intelligent, well-read, far more curious than I about things in the natural world, and a lover of languages. He claimed to know Latin, Italian and French. Strapp erupted into riotous laughter at inopportune times, causing people on the street to stare. I am certain they thought we were master and slave, indentured worker and employer, or some such. We stopped at the clothing factory where Ruby worked. As I often did, when troubling thoughts arose, I sought out my sister’s counsel. I always had, even though it chafed me to do so at times. Strapp was in middle of some story, joke, tall tale, or lie. I was not sure which at this point.

“So, Judith says ‘Well sir, I figure if you think you can drink upside down, go right ahead! It’s just a good thing you ain’t wearin’ a kilt Doctor!!’ Hahahah! A kilt! Do you get it Lucius?”

I did not understand, just nodded my head as if I did so I would not offend this strange man.

“Well, Dr. Strapp…”

“No. Artemis please.” Strapp said.

“This is my destination. I appreciate you accompanying me. It was…an experience.”

“Indeed Lucius! I have your card. Here is mine!” He plunged a card into my hand and shook it with a vigor I never feel at any time. And with that, Strapp walked away whistling to himself.

I looked at the card in my hand. It was handwritten and read simply:

Artemis Strapp,

Oral Historian & Finder of Curiosities

On the back, his street address in Fells Point. I turned the card over and over in my hands, but did not know what to make of it. So, I placed it in my vest pocket, fixed my tie, and entered the dark maw of the shoe factory where my sister slaved day in and day out. I entered the factory by the side door and was thrown into a gloom that felt almost physical. A string of oil lamps hung on the walls making it seem more like night than day. A shroud of mist hung in the air, probably residue from the shoe-making process.

I passed through a doorway and was in the main hall where hundreds of workers, all women, toiled on the various tasks of making shoes. The majority were Negro with a smattering of various immigrants, and poor Whites. They labored under brutal conditions which was hard on the hands and backs, while the lack of natural sunlight could kill even the hardiest spirit. I hated that my sister worked here, and I longed for the day when my practice made enough to support the both of us.

        I saw Ruby from across the room. She was speaking to a White man who was a supervisor of some kind. Ruby walked away and the man followed. They disappeared into a small hallway. I moved through the rows and rows of low tables, bins of leather, and small blocks of wood for heels. I would nod as I passed by, but none of the women would look me in the eye. As I made my way closer to the hallway, I heard raised voices.

        “No!”

        “Look here girlie, if you want the extra work then I need a lil’ somthin’ extra too.”

        My blood boiled. I turned the corner and the White man had Ruby trapped in a corner, his manner threatening. I started to grab the man by the neck, but Ruby caught my eye and shook her head No. The man followed her gaze and we stared at each other. When two men are about to engage in a physical confrontation, they can sense the energy between each other. He knew I meant to make violence on him, and was not sure if he was up to the challenge. He was old, fat, and out of shape, whereas I, even though I was a lawyer, was far younger, and took pains to stay strong and agile as much as I could. Therefore, I sensed and saw fear in his eyes.        

        “Lu…Lu this is my Boss, Mr. Targen. This here is my brother Lucius.”

        The man moved away from Ruby. I followed him with my eyes, but did not say a word. For his part, Targen was unsure of his next move, so of course he took the coward’s way out.        

        “Two extra hours for the shift or else I give it to someone else! Got it?”

        “Yes sir. Two extra hours. No problem at all.” Ruby said.

        Targen looked me up and down one last time, as if trying to gauge his chances against me. Instead, he walked away at a quick pace the opposite direction.

        “What are you doing here? You almost got me fired!”

        “That…If he ever lays a hand on you I will…”

        Ruby stared at me, all at once the older, wiser sister again.

        “You’ll what? Kill him? Beat him? Lu he is White, and a Boss! No! You are going to wait for me outside, like you do every day, until my shift is over. Then, we are going to walk home and you can tell me all about your boring day at your fancy law practice. Okay? Okay! Now go! Get!”

        I opened my mouth to speak, but Ruby had already moved away and was sitting down at her work station. With nothing else to do, I left back the way I came, all the while, glancing into the various hallways and doorways for Targen.