Dark Chaos (# 4 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (33 page)

             
Dr. Benson thought for a few minutes then nodded.  “It might work.”

             
“Might work?”  Mrs. Goldberg chided.  “Of course, it will work.”

             
Beginning to absorb some of the Jewish woman’s confidence, Abby sighed with relief. 

             
Stephen walked over to the edge of the roof then lay down flat on his stomach.  “Can you throw the rope to me?” he called. 

             
Abby watched for a moment then turned back around to peer down into the street.  She could see the angry mob hauling things out of the Benson’s front door.  Up and down the block the scene was replaying itself.  She could feel the hatred and anger permeating the atmosphere. 

             
“They deserve what they get!” a roughly dressed woman screamed.  “If it wasn’t for them niggers, my Tommy wouldn’t be fighting now.”

             
“Destroy what ain’t worth taking!” a man yelled.  “I’ll be blamed if I’m gonna go down and die for one of these wooly-heads!  They’ve come up here to take what belongs to the white man!” 

             
Abby watched sadly.  Maybe one day she would get used to the depths of depravity mankind was willing to sink to.  Then again, she hoped not.  It would only indicate a hardening of her own heart.

             
Elsie’s soft voice sounded over her shoulder.  “Don’t they know they are only hurting themselves?  That when they try to crush our liberties they’re putting their own at risk?”

             
Abby nodded.  “I hope one day people will realize protecting the feeblest of their fellow beings is the only guarantee they have of the protection of their own liberty - here or anywhere.”   She smiled suddenly, realizing the incongruity of having a philosophical discussion on a hot roof while a riot waged below.  Then she sobered.  Maybe it was only by maintaining reason in the midst of craziness that the world would survive.  She exchanged a long look of understanding with Elsie. 

             
“I got it!”  Stephen sang out triumphantly, holding the rope high above his head.

             
“Good!”  Dr. Benson exclaimed. 

             
“Daddy.  Are the bad people going to get us?”  Reuben asked. 

             
“I’m awful hot,” lisped little Mabel piteously.  “Why can’t we go in the house?”

             
Elsie eased over and lifted Mabel in her arms.  “No, Reuben, the bad men aren’t going to get us,” she said firmly.  She wiped Mabel’s sweating face with her handkerchief.  “I’m sorry you’re hot, but sometimes when you have adventures, you have to go through hard times.  We’ll be off the roof soon.” 

             
Mabel was comforted in her mother’s embrace.  She hiccupped then quit crying.

             
Her husband appeared at her side.  “I’m afraid it will take a little while,” he said quietly.

             
“Why?”  Elsie asked sharply.

             
“We can’t risk letting that crowd see us.  We have to wait until they go away.”

             
“And if they don’t?” 

             
“Then, my dear, I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until dark,” he grimaced.  “It’s simply too dangerous, and besides, if they see us, we’ll compromise Mrs. Goldberg.”

             
Elsie’s voice dropped to a whisper so the children couldn’t hear her.  “And what if they burn the place?”

             
Abby was wondering the same thing. 

             
“I don’t think they’ll burn it,” Dr. Benson replied thoughtfully.  “I’ve been watching.  They seem content to plunder - to take everything they can get their hands on.  If they start burning places, I don’t think it will be anytime soon.”

             
Elsie nodded wearily, then plastered on a smile, and turned to the children.  “Let’s see if we can think of a quiet game to play.”

             
“I wanna get off the roof,” Mabel wailed again in a frightened voice. 

             
Trying to swallow her own fear, Abby took her from Elsie and walked over to join the rest of the children.  She could imagine the panic the Livingstons would feel once they got news of the riot.  A faint spark of hope rose in her.  Maybe they would send help.  Maybe Michael would come after her.  As quickly as the thought rose, she pushed it aside.  Michael would be busy saving the city.  It was selfish to think he could come after her just because she had made a foolish decision. 

             
Abby set her lips before she spoke softly to the little girl.  “How about if we sing a song?”  More to calm herself than the children, Abby began to sing softly - senseless songs her mother had sung to her when she was a little girl.  She had not thought of the songs for years - now they flowed effortlessly - the clock spinning back almost a half century.   Little Mabel snuggled close to her.  The other children listened, some of the fear fading from their faces. 

             
Elsie gave her a grateful, tired smile, then sank down, and leaned her back against the side of the house.               

             
Somehow the long afternoon passed.  The sun began to sink below the long horizon and give some relief to the exhausted, thirsty family trapped on the roof.  Crowds of people still milled in the streets, but the number had lessened.

             
Abby stood, stretched her stiff muscles, and winced as her scorched skin objected to the movement.  Soon it would be safe to try to make good their escape.  Curious to see what was going on below, she walked over to the edge and peered around the corner.  She found it hard to believe that so far no one had spotted the huddled family.  Or had they, but they simply didn’t care as long as they got the belongings they were after?  Maybe their thirst for blood had been quenched. 

             
A few minutes later her theory was destroyed.  Abby watched as a middle-aged black man, peering around carefully, edged down the alley between two buildings.  She opened her mouth to call to him not to walk farther.  A firm hand on her arm stopped her. 

             
“Don’t!”  Dr. Benson said.  “Your call will do nothing but broadcast his position as well as our own.  That’s Willie Johnson.  He’s come to check on his family.  They live in that house there,” he said, pointing.

             
“But what if they catch him?”

             
“I know,” Dr. Benson said in an agonized voice.  He shook his head.  “I’m afraid we can do nothing to help him.”

             
Abby watched helplessly as Willie edged closer and closer to the street.  Maybe he would make it.  Willie paused when he reached the opening of the alley then carefully poked his head out.  The attention of the crowd was diverted by something at the far end of the road, and they all began to move toward the right - away from Willie.  He watched for a moment more, then darted from the alley, bound for a building just three doors down.  He had gone no more than ten steps when a man turned around and saw him.

             
“We got us a nigger!” he howled.  “After him!” 

             
Willie ducked his head and ran faster past the door of his home.  Abby knew he would never endanger his family by going there.  Several young boys sprinted free from the mob and tackled the fleeing man. 

             
“Oh, God!”  Abby whispered, wanting to turn away yet held by her horror.  Behind her she could hear Elsie start to sing again in an effort to distract the children. 

             
“Kill him!” one man screamed.

             
A young child ran up and jumped around in wild glee.  “Get him!  Get him!” he cried. 

             
Abby could see Willie holding his arms around his head as the savage beating continued.   Fists flew and heavy boots kicked as the helpless man was trampled into the dusty road.  Tears of frustration and rage poured down Abby’s face.  She groaned as one final kick snapped Willie’s head back into an awkward position.  There was no more movement.

             
“Got another one!” a man yelled triumphantly as the crowd, cheering loudly, surged away.

             
Abby looked up at Dr. Benson tearfully.  “Isn’t there something we can do to help?”

             
“He’s dead,” Dr. Benson said heavily.  “They broke his neck with that last kick.”  His voice was flat, but his eyes burned with rage and pain.

             
Abby sagged then turned away.  Would this hideous day never end?  Was it really just that morning that she had been glad to be alive?  Now the thought of living in a world that could do the things she had witnessed made her feel dirty and soiled. 

It was dark when Dr. Benson and Stephen
said it was time to move.  The younger children, cradled by the adults and older children, had dropped off to sleep, exhausted by their long ordeal.              

             
Abby gazed down at Mabel’s peaceful face.  “Wake up, sweetie,” she said softly.  “It’s time to go.”

             
“Home?”  Mabel said hopefully.

             
“Not quite yet, honey,” Elsie said.  “But we’re going somewhere safe.”

             
Mabel’s face fell and her lower lip quivered, but she didn’t cry.  “All right, Mama,” she said bravely. 

             
Abby squeezed her gently, lifted her into her arms, and then walked over to join the family. 

             
“I’ll go first,” Stephen announced.  “That way I can test the rope and make sure I’m there to catch the ones that come after me.”

             
“You’re sure this is safe?”  Elsie asked anxiously, eyeing the gap between the buildings. 

             
Abby knew what she was thinking.  The older ones might possibly survive a fall from this height, but the younger ones would die upon impact. 

             
Dr. Benson was at her side instantly.  “I won’t let any harm come to you,” he said tenderly.  “You and the children need to be brave just a little while longer.”

             
Elsie nodded as Stephen wrapped his hands and legs around the rope that descended two stories and slowly slid down it.  Silently praying the rope would hold, Abby held her breath as she watched him.  She heaved a sigh of relief when his feet touched the porch roof.  “He made it!” 

             
Dr. Benson moved quickly.  He picked up a shorter section of rope and walked over to Shelby.  “You first, little one,” he said cheerfully.

             
“It’s time for more adventure?”  Shelby asked in a weak voice.  Her eyes were still bright, but it was obvious the sweltering day on the roof had sapped the little energy she had started with. 

             
“Yes, honey,” Dr. Benson replied.  “I’m going to tie this rope underneath your arms.  Then I’m going to attach it to the rope you just saw Stephen go down.  I promise you’ll be okay.”

             
“I’m not afraid,” Shelby said trustingly, her dark eyes fixed on her father’s face. 

             
Abby’s heart swelled with tenderness for the courageous little girl.  Mrs. Goldberg would hide the brave invalid in one of her upstairs bedrooms until control had been restored to the city.  There was no way the weakened little girl would be able to make it to the police precinct. 

             
Dr. Benson carefully secured Shelby then pulled out another long section of rope.  Once he had Shelby dangling from the rope, he used the longer rope to hold her steady, making sure she didn’t slide too fast.  Abby held her breath as the little girl was lowered to where Stephen waited with extended arms. 

             
“Got you!” they heard Stephen say in a playful voice.