The Colour of War

Chapter 41

New Orleans seemed to embrace Stefan and Evelyn now, as they settled into married life. Their love, once hidden, now flowed openly through the streets. Evelyn proudly used Stefan's surname, a testament to their union. Yet, prejudice still lingered like a stubborn shadow.

In her shop, hushed disapproval followed them. Two Southern women, their disdain thinly veiled, spoke loudly enough for Evelyn to hear.

"What a waste," the one with garish makeup declared. Evelyn smirked to herself, recognising the subject of their gossip.

"He's absolutely divine," the other woman chimed in. "That European accent—so strong, with a hint of danger. You know he's German."

Evelyn rolled her eyes, focusing on her stock take. But the tall woman with bird-like features couldn't resist. "To end up with a Negro is unheard of," she said, her tone demeaning. "And those poor, confused children."

Enough was enough. Evelyn drew the line. "Are you two going to buy anything?" she snapped, her patience worn thin.

The two women exchanged appalled expressions. "Well," the one with over-the-top makeup retorted, "we won't be now. Your manners are a disgrace."

"I simply do not care for your comments or your custom," Evelyn declared. "Get out!"

The shop assistant hesitated, unsure whether to intervene. But Evelyn stood her ground.

"Uppity Negro," the tall woman sneered as they bustled out of the shop.

Evelyn let out a breath. Reactions were bad for business, but there was only so much she could take. No one could speak about her children like that. She'd protect them fiercely, even if it meant facing prejudice head-on.

∗ ∗ ∗

Sixteen-year-old Ruby and her friend basked in the glow of a summer evening, a familiar scene in their vibrant, yet segregated, world. A group of white boys of the same age with arrogant faces swaggered past.

One, eyes lingering on Ruby, sneered, "Hey girl, why don't you come over and show me a good time." Ruby, with a narrowed gaze, chose to ignore his crude comment. The boy, feeling dismissed, the silent rejection fuelling his anger. He stepped up to Ruby and said, "Don't ignore me, mulatto." His friends erupting in laughter. He stepped even closer, his intention clear.

Ruby stood her ground, refusing to back down. Her friend, fearing for her safety, tugged at her arm, but Ruby remained rooted. The friend, desperate, ran home to get Ruby's parents.

Stefan heard the frantic shouts. "It's Ruby." He recognised the voice. He dropped his tools, his mind racing with worry, and ran out to see Ruby and the boy on the ground, locked in a scuffle. Terror mingled with a surge of pride as he witnessed Ruby, smaller but fierce, clearly getting the upper hand.

His large hands clamped onto the boy's shoulders. He pulled the boy off Ruby and, shaking with rage, ordered her home, "Now!"

The boy's father saw the commotion and came over with a friend, shouting, "Get your nigger-loving hands off my boy."

Ruby, with a horrified expression, looked between the faces of the boys and their fathers. Stefan shifted subtly in front of his daughter. "I said home, now," his voice low and stern. Ruby reluctantly ran home, daring one glance behind her as angry words were rapidly exchanged.

Evelyn arrived home to find her daughter in distress. "What's wrong?" she demanded, suddenly overwhelmed with anxiousness.

Stefan, his face bloodied from the encounter, barely fended off the boy's father and his friend. Two of Stefan's friends, recognising the danger, stepped in, their presence deterring the men from escalating the situation.

"Kraut bastard," the boy's father sneered, the hate radiating from him like poison.

Evelyn's concerned probing was abruptly interrupted by Stefan's appearance at the doorway, his hands and face stained crimson.

"You don't go out alone," he said sharply to Ruby, before retreating upstairs, where Evelyn followed, eyes filled with worry.

"I'm fine," Stefan said, trying to reassure Evelyn, but his voice was strained. Ruby, feeling responsible for the situation, appeared at their door.

"I'm so sorry," she said, guiltily.

"Hey, you did nothing wrong. You sure showed him," Stefan replied, a playful wink in his eyes.

"Ruby, you have not been fighting," Evelyn, having pieced together the events, spoke with a stern tone.

"He started it," Ruby defended herself, her voice held a familiar defiant spirit.

"What did I teach you? Just walk away. You could have been hurt," Evelyn reprimanded. She berated Ruby for her reckless behaviour, but a flicker of admiration for her bravery could not be denied.

Ruby bit her lip, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Nope, just him, Momma," she replied.

"Right, off to bed," she ordered, and Ruby obeyed without protest.

Stefan turned to Evelyn, his own emotions torn between anger and bewilderment. "Why are you punishing her?" he asked. "She was standing up for what's right."

Turning to Stefan, Evelyn expressed her concerns. "Don't ever encourage her like that again," she warned.

Stefan attempted to defend his actions. "She has the same defiance as you. The same determination to fight for what's just," Stefan argued.

Evelyn sighed. "Exactly," she said. "But in this world, Stefan, it's dangerous." Her mind replayed her own actions at the shop. How differently it could've been. They needed to be more careful.

Despite Evelyn's reservations, Stefan understood. "Okay, Evelyn, I understand," he replied reluctantly.

There was a sudden knock on the door that made them both freeze. "Wait here," Stefan said instinctively, his voice authoritative.

But Evelyn, her hand already gripping a heavy old candlestick, moved with a speed that surprised even Stefan. "No," she said, following him down the stairs.

He opened the door to reveal a man in a crisp, starched uniform. Chief Landry, a veteran of the war, standing before them. "Listen, I know what went on," he began, low and conspiratorial. "I know that family, but you need to understand what I'm saying."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Stefan's ear. "This thing you have going on here, it ain't allowed. Some folks don't think it's right. I advise you keep a low profile. For your family's sake. Any issues, you come see me. Don't be brawling in the street. You're better than that."

The chief gently patted Stefan's shoulder, his eyes shifting to Evelyn. "They'll be no need for that, ma'am," he said, nodding towards the weapon she hastily hid behind her back.

He gave them a curt nod and left. Evelyn's heart sank. "We need to be more careful," she said.

"We do," Stefan agreed, his eyes catching the flash of bronze behind her back. He smiled, a warmth spreading through him. "I told you to wait upstairs," he said softly, his eyes lingering on her.

Evelyn, slightly embarrassed, shrugged and offered a coy smile. "I know, but if it was them, I couldn't bear them hurting you again. I don't know what came over me, but I was ready," she confessed.

Evelyn's fierce loyalty and willingness to defend her husband stirred something deep within Stefan. He looked at her with a mixture of desire and admiration, unable to suppress the lustful look in his eyes.

"You cannot be serious," Evelyn exclaimed, taken aback by Stefan's lustful gaze.

He seemed unfazed, replying with an innocent, "What?" But Evelyn knew better. She had seen this look before, and she knew what it meant.

He pulled her close, a playful glint in his eyes. "There's something about a woman ready to protect what's hers. It's endearing and... well," he hesitated, glancing down at himself, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips.

"Come on," he said, tugging her gently, leading her towards the bedroom. Evelyn, surprised yet certain, follows him.