Black in Time by John Jakes

Author:John Jakes [Jakes, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Alternate History, Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Publisher: Paperback Library
Published: 1970-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

Meeting House

Harold rushed back to one of the windows and pressed his eye to the bottle glass. He made out vague human shapes seated in rows inside. He thought he recognized the configuration of one particular head thrusting up above those surrounding.

“I think I see Whisk. We may be too late already.”

Jomo shoved by. “Let the old urban guerilla try that door. Maybe we can sneak in ’thout anybody hearing a thing.”

Jomo’s expertise proved to be more than bragging. One by one, they slipped into the gloom behind the last row of benches.

Most of the benches were occupied by white men and women in somber suits and somber dresses. Harold pressed his back to the plain room’s rear wall. Jomo accidentally made the door squeak as he shut it. A man on the last bench turned around.

Harold expected the worst. Instead, he got a warm smile. The man faced front again, toward the speaker, without further commotion.

A familiar, rather pudgy man was talking to the crowd. But Harold’s eyes were drawn to the third bench from the front. Whisk’s long hair was unmistakable. Two of his deacons sat on either side of him. Harold rubbed his throat.

The speaker wore a seedy waistcoat. His gray hair was pulled back and tied with a frowzy ribbon. Half spectacles sat far down on his nose. He was addressing the group in what sounded like a dialect of modern English:

“—and so, good friends, it behooves us, as citizens of the enlightened city of Philadelphia, to recognize the plight of those pitiful human beings brought to our shores in chains. The Quaker religion has always maintained a strong bias in favor of what is not only moral but just. That is why I issued the call for this meeting in this location. What I propose tonight is nothing less than the founding of what shall henceforward be known as the first society in all the colonies to forthrightly take a stand against the immoral and involuntary servitude of black men, women, and children.”

“Friend,” boomed Whisk, standing suddenly and turning in profile so that more might see him. Without wanting to, Harold cringed.

Whisk folded his hands on the bosom of his long black greatcoat. His upcast eyes lent him a pious air. “I wonder if thee would permit me to inject myself into these proceedings and make a statement to the brethren assembled.”

“Identify yourself, friend, and be welcomed.”

“I am friend Whisk. Like most of those here gathered, I am of the Quaker faith.”

“If you come in peace,” smiled the pudgy man, “the platform is yours.”

“Thank thee,” said Whisk, into the aisle with speed. He rushed to the front, instantly losing his saintly air. “Thank thee, you nigger lover!”

Before Harold and his companions could react, Whisk had Benjamin Franklin down on his knees and was throttling him to death.

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