“We will be peaceful, but we will stand our ground,” Jack said through the megaphone. “No more being pushed around and starved. You deserve a fair day’s wage for a day’s work.”
Elsa heard the rumble of engines. She knew the rest of them heard it, too. The chanting faded.
“Go into the field,” Jack said. “Sit down. Break down the gate if you must.”
Elsa turned, saw a hay truck full of workers pull up behind the strikers. The driver honked the horn to be let through.
“Strikebreakers. They’re here to take your jobs,” Jack said. “Don’t let them in.”
The crowd spread out, blocked the truck’s path to the gates with their bodies.
“No work! Fair pay!” Jack shouted.
Welty walked around to the side of Jack’s truck and faced the strikers. “I’m paying seventy-five cents today,” he said. “Who wants to feed their family and move into one of my cabins? Who wants credit at the company store come winter and a mattress to sleep on?”
“Hell, no!” Jack yelled.
A roar of agreement rose up from the crowd.
A truck appeared on the road behind Welty, drove toward the strikers. A man exited the truck, carrying a rifle casually over one shoulder. He walked to the field and opened the gate.
“They aren’t gonna shoot. We ain’t done nothin’ wrong,” Ike called out. “Stay strong!”
The man with the rifle went to the top of the guard tower and aimed his gun
at the strikers.
“He can’t shoot us for nothin’,” Ike yelled. “This is still America.”
More trucks full of migrant workers willing to pick for seventy-five cents pulled up behind the strikers, honked to be let through.
“Don’t let ’em through,” Jack yelled.
Sirens.
Police cruisers and cars and trucks barreled down the distant road, creating a cloud of dust. One by one they turned onto this road, and parked in a straight line that created a blockade in front of Jack’s truck.
The doors opened. Masked men stepped out of the vehicles, holding clubs and bats and guns.
Vigilantes. Ten of them.
Policemen stepped out of their cruisers, guns drawn.
The vigilantes walked slowly forward.
The crowd of strikers backed away; the chanting quieted.
“Men wear masks because they’re ashamed of what they’re doing,” Jack said through the megaphone. “They know this is wrong.”
Elsa stared at the masked men coming toward her and the children. She held her children close, began to back away.
“Mom, no!” Loreda cried.
“Hush,” Elsa said, pulling Loreda closer.
“Stand your ground,” Jack said. He looked directly at Elsa, said, “Don’t be afraid.”
Three vigilantes jumped up into the back of Jack’s truck. One cracked Jack in the back with his bat. Jack dropped the megaphone and staggered forward. The vigilantes grabbed Jack by the hair and dragged him out of the truck; one of them cracked Jack in the head with the butt of his rifle. Jack dropped to his knees.