Oh, If I Had A Hammer…
By C. Mage
(Note: I would like to warn those reading past that point that there are some unflattering references to blacks contained within this story and I want you to know that the words were not added to insult or offend you, but to illustrate the ignorance and the hatred of those using the words. If these words offend, I apologize. I don't mean to offend or insult anyone.
Also, I would like to recognize the talents of Adrien Stoutenburg, who wrote the story upon which the subject of this tale is based, and Mike Auer, who provided the events and the words of the legend depicted below. The retelling of the legend of John Henry is their creation, and I borrowed the tale to help develop this story. I do not claim in any way, shape or form that any of their work is mine. To the both of you, should you by chance read this story, you have my thanks for a compelling legend about a true American hero.)
Lara looked out the window of the train car and smiled. "I have to hand it to you, David, this is beautiful country. I'm glad we came." She lay back, dressed in her "working clothes:" bodysuit, shorts, leather jacket and boots.
"Yeah, no business, no tombs here in America. We can finally get a break." He leaned back in his seat and stretched. "The food in the dining car isn't that bad, either." He looked out the window to see the spring sun rising into the cloudless sky, illuminating hills, mountains and the occasional farm or town.
"So, David, tell me more about this friend we're going to see."
"His name is William Jackson. He's an ex-cop, like me, only he left the force under good conditions. Well, actually, to be honest, he left the force for family reasons. His mother got sick and he came back here to take care of her. William was never my partner, but there were times when it sure felt like it. Only knew him for just under a year, but we got to be good friends. In any case, his mother died about a week ago."
"I'm sorry, Dave."
"Don't be…I just wish I'd known sooner, I would've been able to come to the funeral, if nothing else, out of respect."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You do the best you can…one of the things I love about you." Lara caressed his cheek.
"Aw, shucks ma'am, 'tweren't nothin'…" His smile froze, then drooped as he saw three men enter the car, walking to a seat. "Ah, hell," he muttered.
"What's wrong?" Lara whispered.
"Don't turn around, but three skinheads just walked into the dining car." David kept his voice low, but Lara could still hear the bile rising. Lara adjusted the clear plastic menu so that its glossy surface acted as a crude mirror. All three of them were wearing leather jackets, jeans and Doc Martens, clearly establishing themselves as lords of their new domain as they sat down and looked at their menus.
Lara frowned as she set the menu down. "Are you sure they're not just into black leather and boots?"
"How many good-natured folk from country towns carry swastikas like they were trophies? One of them even has one shaved into his hair."
"Animals," she muttered. "Let's ask the waitress to send our food to our compartment."
"Sounds good to me." Then his face flickered. "We may not get the chance. I just remembered something."
"What?"
"Our waitress is black."
As if on cue, the waitress in question, a young black woman with long, reddish-black hair and a pressed attendant's uniform walked into the dining car, carrying a tray with David and Lara's food on it. As she passed the group of skinheads, one of them stuck out a foot to trip her. She was obviously expecting it, however, and nimbly stepped over the foot, walking briskly to David and Lara's table. "Nice move," David said with a hint of admiration.
The waitress smiled in return. "We get all kinds."
David checked her nametag. It read, "Angie." "Excuse me, Angie, but could we get our meals to go, take them to our compartment?"
"Sure. Just take the trays to your compartment and leave them outside when you're done."
"HEY! How about some SERVICE over here!?" One of the neo-Nazis slammed his palm on the table.
Angie gave Lara and David an apologetic look, then walked over to the three skinheads as if she had been relieved of her job as waitress and told to fill in for the train engine and start pulling the cars by herself. Lara started to pick up her tray, then noticed David eyeing the group. "What?"
"Looks like things might get messy."
One of the skinheads grabbed Angie's arm and twisted it cruelly. "Next time I call you over here, nigger, you'd better listen. Now take our orders."
Angie wrested her arm away and stolidly took pen in hand. "What would you like?"
"My friends and I will have the soup, three beers and make it quick. We don't have all day."
Angie took the orders and walked out as the three men started laughing at Angie's obvious discomfort. Lara noticed that David had that I'll-take-all-of-them-at-once look on his face again. "Dave, are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"
"Does it have anything to do with formally cleaning their clocks?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Yeah, I'm thinking that."
"Good. But I recommend waiting. I think Angie is perfectly capable of defending her own honor…up to a point. Do you think they might get nasty?"
"GOD, I hope so…"
Angie came back in, bearing a tray with three bowls of steaming hot soup and three bottles of beer. She set the tray down on a nearby table and delivered the food to the young men politely. As she set the beers on the table, one of the young men sipped the soup, then spit it out. "What is this? You made the soup too hot, you dumb bitch! I bet you did it on purpose!" He stood up suddenly and backhanded her, knocking her to the floor. All the men got up and the leader of the group took his beer and broke it over the edge of the table, spilling beer and broken glass over the floor. "You know what happens to uppity trash like you?" he yelled, raising a foot to stomp on Angie.
"Let's hope it's better than what happens to you."
All three of the skinheads looked up to see David pointing his Desert Eagle .50 at them. The undercarriage laser sight planted a small red dot on the leader's forehead. The leader lowered his foot slowly. "Now back off, Laughing Boy, or I'll have to shell out a lot of money to this train company for the hole I'll make with a bullet from this gun…after it makes a nice, neat hole in that empty skull of yours. Let me know if I'm using words you can't understand."
Angie backed away from the men and got to her feet, making sure that she was not in David's way as she moved back. Lara Croft stood up and walked over to her. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, gonna have to wash my arm, though, make sure it doesn't fester."
"You're a pretty big man, holding a gun on all of us…" the leader taunted. "Drop that gun and you wouldn't have a chance against me."
"I wouldn't have a chance against you?? You're a pretty big talker yourself when it's three to one odds. Boys, you're getting off at the next stop. We've got a long way to go and we don't need you three screwing up our vacation."
The leader spied Lara and grinned. "I'm gonna have a LOT of fun with you, girl…after I take care of your boyfriend."
"Dave," Lara said with a strange smile. "Please let me have some fun with these three."
David knew the tone of that voice and he knew that nothing short of shooting Lara himself would stop her from what she had in mind. "Don't get too nasty, Lara, there are people whose job it is to clean this car."
"I'll make it quick."
David sighed. "Oh, go ahead." He lowered his gun as Lara walked towards the leader with a sway in her hips.
Angie ran over to David, stepping behind him. "What are you doing?? She's going to get killed!"
"Don't worry about Lara, Angie. She has this gift."
Meanwhile, Lara had walked up to the leader and placed her hands on his chest, slowly sliding them up to his shoulders and down again. The leader smiled. "Bitch, you've got some kinky ideas about how to have fun…"
"You haven't seen ANYTHING yet…you like a little pain with your fun?"
The leader grinned. "I'm going first, guys."
"Oh, don't be shy…" Lara purred. "How about all three of you? At once?"
"You think you can handle all of us?"
"Oh, I'm SURE I can manage…"
"Angie, close your eyes," David said, "this may get a little disgusting."
Lara suddenly shoved her knee up into the leader's crotch with enough force to lodge them in his throat. A moan came from the man's lips and for a moment, his friends thought that Lara was doing something else entirely.
By the time they realized differently, it was already far too late.
David watched as Lara made short work of the men, putting a foot deep into the solar plexus of the man on her right while simultaneously stunning the man on her left with a furious backhand. As the one on her right went to his knees, gasping like a beached fish, Lara went after the one on the left, planting two angry fists and an elbow every few punches into the man's body.
David made an expression of mock pain as Lara hit the man with a bone-jarring right hook. Angie just stared. "Are you okay, dear?" David asked sweetly.
"Just fine, sweetheart!" Lara said brightly as she turned her attention to the one on her right. He was recovering, but not nearly fast enough to defend himself. Lara considered beating him to a pulp, but decided that that would be too messy and simply hit the main squarely on the nose, bringing forth a CRUNCH. The skinhead dropped and folded like a dirty shirt.
Lara turned her back on them and walked to where David sat, bending over and kissing him on the forehead. "How lucky I am to be in love with a man who trusts me around other men."
"How lucky I am to be in love with a woman who can kick butt as well as I can, if not better."
Angie walked over to the three men as the door to the dining car opened and the train's security appeared. "Geez, what happened to them?" one of the men asked as he saw the skinheads unconscious or incapacitated on the floor.
Angie smiled. "Woman trouble."
Lara watched the police remove the skinheads from the train. "What a waste of blood."
"Agreed. Let's hope that things are LESS exciting once we reach White Sulphur Springs."
"What's the town like?"
"Well, it was nice and peaceful the last time I came through, but that was before I really got to know William. Haven't been back since, so I'm not sure what to expect."
"Sounds about par for the course."
"I hope you're not insinuating anything by that. We get enough trouble without actively searching for it…I would like to get just one trip, just ONE, without having to run for our lives."
"I hate to say this, Dave, but we are destined to have an interesting life together. Now do be quiet and let's get back on the train."
They rented a car in Charleston, a yellow 1998 Acura NSX, and drove the rest of the way into White Sulphur Springs. Dave noted that with the onset of spring, the surrounding hills and trees were alive with colors from flowers and leaves. He felt more relaxed as they entered the town proper. As David remembered, the town wasn't very big…it only had two stoplights to its name. They passed over a river and went to a cozy little bed-and-breakfast not too far outside of town. Lara sighed contentedly as she saw the building. "It looks absolutely perfect, David."
"Not really…" Lara looked over at David, who pointed at the police car parked right outside. "A taste of things to come?"
Lara stopped the car as two men in uniform left the house. David noted, after a look at how they wore their uniform and carried themselves, that they had all the earmarks of "good ol' boys." The two officers stopped as they saw David and Lara drive up and get out of the car. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
The two men looked at Lara as if considering something, then saw David step out and their eyes immediately went to him. "You David Connors?"
Oh for crying out loud…!!! "Yeah, I'm him. Who are you guys?"
One of them went up to David, chewing on a toothpick. "I'm Sheriff Robertson, and this is my deputy, Boyd. Do you know a man named William Jackson?"
"Know him? I came out here to visit him." David's eyes turned to flint. "What happened to him?"
"Somebody burned down his home last night. The fire department's picking through the rubble looking for his remains," said the Sheriff as if he was talking about a double-parked car. "When was the last time you talked to him?"
David sat on the fender of the car, some of the wind knocked out of him. "William's dead??"
"Officers," Lara said, putting a hand on David's shoulder reassuringly, "we spoke to him just yesterday."
"Did he say anything that might have led you to believe that he was in danger?"
"No…he just said he was going to meet me here and that he had something to show me."
"Did he say what it was?"
"No."
"Are you sure?" Deputy Boyd asked insistently.
"Yes, I'm sure!" David suddenly yelled. "He didn't say anything about it!"
"Calm down, Mr. Connors, we're just…"
"…doing your jobs, I know. I used to be a cop myself. Sorry. Do you have any ideas who did it?"
"We've got some suspects, but there were no witnesses. By the time we got a call about it at 3 am, the fire department was already on the scene and the fire was nearly out, but the house had burned to the ground. We suspect murder by arson." Sheriff Robertson spit tobacco juice to his side without turning his head. "Some people jest don't want to come into the twentieth century, ya know?"
"No, but I'm beginning to," David said in an odd voice. If Sheriff Robertson or his deputy noticed the shift in David's tone, they didn't react to it. "Wait…if William was dead when you got there, how'd you know to find me here?" David asked, suddenly suspicious.
"We didn't. We're just checking around to see if maybe these good people saw something. Mind if we come back later to ask you a few questions?"
David nodded. They walked back to their car and drove away, leaving a cloud of dust as they went down the dirt road.
"Are you alright, Dave?"
"No, I'm not alright." David looked up at Lara. "Somebody murdered a good friend of mine, not to mention a fellow cop. Come on, we're going over to William's house."
"The police have probably been over there already."
"Yeah…well, maybe we can pick up something they missed. Let's go."
Lara and David got back into the car and pulled out, heading back into town. As they did, someone far up on a hill facing the bed-and-breakfast put down her binoculars and picked up a radio. She was barely sixteen and attractive, but her camouflage gear and serious manner spoke of motivations belonging to someone far older. "Jeffrey, this is Linna-Mae. You're raht, they took off as soon as the Sheriff came by. Yeah. All raht, I'm coming down." She stopped, then added, "You still taking Bobbi to the dance Friday?"
David got out of the car and just looked at the scene in front of him. Lara got out slowly as she got a full look of William's home…or what was left of it.
The wreckage of the house stood in the middle of a small plot of land that had once been a farm. Now, the fields were little more than wide expanses of grass, kept in check by the horses in a barn a hundred feet away. Outside, right next to the mailbox, a large cross of wood stood, blackened and burned. David went past the icon to what remained of the front door, not even giving it a look. Lara followed, more than a little disgusted by the sight. "Dave, who did this?"
"The same kind of people that we saw on the train, only they're given to wearing white hoods instead of Doc Martens."
"Skinheads? Here?"
"No…bigots."
"I don't understand it. I don't understand how people can hate another person just because of their skin color."
"I'm beginning to…and I think there's more to it than the fact the he was black. William found something, something BIG. Big enough to warrant him being killed."
"What do you mean?"
"Look around you. If they just wanted William dead, they would've burned down his house and his barn weeks ago. Nothing bothers a white bigot more than the sight of a black man more prosperous than himself. They burned the place down because they were trying to cover something up. Maybe because they were searching the place. It looks like they came here, looking for something. William came home and tried to force them out of his house, but they got the drop on him. They continued looking, but couldn't find what they were looking for, so they made it look like a common lynching. They weren't sure that what they were looking for was still here, but they didn't mind the idea of destroying it if they couldn't find it."
"Makes sense…but what IS this mysterious 'it' and where did William hide it?"
"I dunno, but I'm glad his mother isn't around to see this. She hated to see the house a mess." David attempted a smile, but it fell short. "Let's just find what it is William's killers were looking for."
"Good luck. If it was here, they must have found it."
"Maybe…."
"If these people are as mean and sadistic as your tone makes them out to be, they may have done it out of spite alone, if not to cover up their crime."
David sighed. "You're right. But if it's not…" David snapped his fingers. "Wait. I've got it."
Lara turned to the door. "There's a car coming. Whatever it was, do you think it was hidden here?"
"No. In fact, I'm sure it's not here."
"Then let's go."
Lara and David walked out the door to find Sheriff Robertson getting out of his car and walking towards them. "What the hail are you doing?? This is a crime scene!"
"Sorry, Sheriff…I just wanted to see if…"
"Horseshit. I don't care who you are or whether you was a cop or not. Around here, I'm the Law and you're trespassing."
"Constable, we just wanted to see…"
"You want to shut up, girl. Now, I've got a murder on my hands and I don't want no city folk playing Nancy Drew or Hardy Boy on me. I catch you anywhere near here again, I'm throw you in jail and feed you the keys! Now GIT!"
Lara and David silently went back to their car and drove off.
As they did, Lara asked, "Now what?"
"Something occurred to me back there. Willie was always a careful cuss, and something's been bugging me ever since we got here. The last time I talked to him, Willie was telling me a story about an old treehouse he made with some friends years ago. The funny thing was, it came right out of left field…maybe he was trying to tell me something."
"Do you know where he might have built the treehouse?"
"No…but if it was a friend of Willie's, then maybe someone around here knows who some of his friends might be." David exhaled. "That's pretty thin."
"Bloody bulimic, I'd say. But it's all we have. Tell me everything you know about any friends he might have had."
David closed his eyes. After a few minutes, they opened again.
"The only one I remember is a guy named…Freeman. Henry Freeman."
"Let's look him up. The White Pages in a town this size can't be THAT large."
David walked out of the diner, a smile on his face. "I got it. Fella in there said that Henry's a schoolteacher. There's only one school I saw in this town, so he must be there."
"Just can't get away from lessons, can you?"
"That's right, rub it in, why don'tcha?" David got into the passenger-side seat and they left the diner. "Henry should be easy to spot…he's the only black teacher there at the moment."
"That brings up something that's been rubbing at me. Doesn't it strike you as more than just coincidental that we run into some skinheads on the train and that Willie was killed in a manner associated with white supremacists?"
David thought about that for a moment. "And those guys were coming from the East, you think somebody's gearing up for a rally of some kind?"
"If so, I doubt it'll be the kind of events one takes a child to…unless they want the child to grow up to be a sociopath."
"This just keeps getting better and better." David rested his head in his hand. "I've seen hate crimes in New York…always the worst kinds. People hurting and killing other people out of fear and hatred. Lives wrecked. And blacks are made out to be targets from the start."
"Hate crimes are not new, Dave. Remember World War II? The different are always made out to be the enemy, it's as old as the Roman Empire."
"You'd think after all this time, humanity would learn a few things by now."
"Come on, Dave, don't go all Auntie Agony on me. Nobody can ask you to solve this kind of problem. Just focus on what happened to your friend, William."
"Yeah, yeah…it just bugs me sometimes what people will buy." Lara smiled gently. "That's my boy, my knight in shining armor."
"TARNISHED armor, maybe."
Lara sighed and drove on until the school came into sight. It looked extremely old, and Lara guessed that it had been around for at least a hundred years. Trees crowded the expanse of lawn that surrounded the school, almost hiding a large part of the building completely. Lara found an entrance into the parking lot and stopped the car, stepping out and looking around at the grounds, then back inside the car. "Are you coming?"
David nodded and stepped out of the car.
"Smells like a fresh summer day, doesn't it?"
David didn't answer as he walked towards the main doors of the building. Lara followed, worried.
"So, what were the causes of the Civil War?" A tall, wiry back man dressed in a button-down shirt, slacks and tie got up from his chair and walked to the front of the class. A wooden plaque with the words, "Mr. Freeman" sat on his desk.
"Freeing the slaves," spoke up one boy.
"Right…but that wasn't the only reason. Who else can tell me what the Civil War was about?"
Silence in the room, then a girl in the back of the room raised her hand.
"Yes, Claudette?"
"States' rights?" she said uncertainly.
"Right!" Mr. Freeman said with a smile and the girl exhaled in relief and a small amount of pride at being right. "Both issues were important, because the North was fighting for a moral issue while the South was disputing the North's right to say what rights the Southern States had, a civil issue. Both sides believed that they were right enough to go to war over it, and as a result, both sides fought hard to defend their beliefs. Now, can anyone tell me why the War took as long as it did? Anyone?"
A boy to the right raised his hand.
"Yes, Jeffrey?"
"The North was fighting on the South's home turf."
"Good, a very good reason. Anyone else?"
A knock at the door interrupted him and he looked to the window. Two strange faces looked in at him. "Kids, open your texts to page eighty-six and read the section called, 'Brother Versus Brother.' Mike, you take charge of the class until I return." He stood up and went outside the classroom. "Yes, can I help…" His voice trailed off as he got a good look at Lara Croft.
Here we go… David thought.
"Lara Croft??" Henry Freeman shook Lara's hand reverently. "Lady Croft, it's an honor to meet you. You may not remember, but I was at your seminar on the Mayans at Cambridge."
Recognition dawned. "Now I remember why you looked so familiar. It's very nice to see you again."
Henry turned to look at David. "And you are…?"
Getting a little peeved at all this…!! "David Connors. Listen, we have to talk."
"About…?"
"William Jackson."
The excited look on Henry's face died a quick and painless death. "What business is it of yours, Mr. Connors?"
"He was a friend of mine. We served together on the force."
Henry nodded. "Not here. Meet me at the Public Library at four. Reading Room 3." Without another word, he turned and went back into his class. Lara and David looked at each other.
"What was that all about?"
"I don't know…but I believe all semblances of our vacation have just been stripped away."
David sighed. "I knew it. So where do we go until then?"
"We go to the Library. I think a good hour or so there might give us some clues. I have a hunch that finding out more about the history of this area might help us find out what all this is about."
"Well, Dave, any luck?"
"Plenty." David set the stack of books down, picked one off the top and opened it. "Ever heard of John Henry?"
"Should I have?"
"I don't believe it. I actually know more about something in history than you do."
"Enjoy the feeling, Dave. It won't last." Lara quipped jokingly. "So, tell me about John Henry."
"Back during the days of the expanding railroad, there is the legend of a man named John Henry, a powerful black man who supposedly, after he was born, the first thing he reached for was a hammer hanging nearby. From that point on, his parents knew that he was destined to be 'a steel drivin' man.' There are other legends, more fanciful than the last. Some say that John was born full-grown..."
"OUCH."
"…and others say that he was actually born holding a hammer."
"DOUBLE ouch."
"He grew up tall and powerful, a regular Hercules, and he had a talent for driving steel. Even as a boy, he practiced swinging a hammer; not hitting things, just relishing the feel of it whooshing through the air. When he was old enough to talk, he told people that he was born with a hammer in his hand. He impressed the foreman of a railroad company with his skill, and gained a friend named, 'Li'l Willie,' who was the only man brave enough to hold the spikes while John was driving them. People would come from miles around to watch John Henry work. Driving spikes, drilling, any which way, John Henry could pound away for ten hours at a stretch and never miss a stroke."
Lara sat back in her chair, listening intently as David told the story. She found the story fascinating, and the way David animated as he told the story revealed that John Henry was a favorite character of David's as well.
"After he'd been at work a few years, John started using a twenty-pound hammer in each hand. It took six fast men to bring fresh drills and spikes to John as he worked, pounding each spike into the ground with a single stroke. John and Li'l Willie kept singing as they worked…"
"Does it say what they sang?"
David faltered. "Well, yeah…"
"Can you sing it for me?"
David looked extremely embarrassed. "Aw, come on, Lara…I've got no voice for singing."
"Just give it a try. For me."
He looked around, then said, "Well, it goes like, 'Hey boys, can't ya line 'em? Hey boys, can't ya line 'em? Hey boys, can't ya line 'em? Hey, Li'l Will, we gonna line some track.'" David stopped, cheeks red.
"Not bad, Dave. Maybe you should work for the railroad…or maybe join a choir."
"Very funny. In any case, the legend continues on that he met a girl named Polly Ann, and married her."
"Sounds like an ideal life."
"Not really. Every so often, ever since he was a boy, John Henry had a recurring dream about joining the railroad and that he would die with a hammer in his hand. He had the dream the night before he joined the railroad and had it again the night before he and Li'l Willie heard that the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad needed men to drive a tunnel through a mountain in West Virginia. He, Li'l Willie and Polly Ann went to West Virginia. Supposedly when John got to Summers County, he sized up the mountain in his way and commented, 'Looks soft. Hold up a drill there, Li'l Willie!' and drove a drill into the mountain with a seventy-pound sledgehammer, then settled to working with the two twenty-pound hammers. The workers had to keep buckets of water handy to pour on his hammers so they wouldn't catch fire. A few days later, a man from town came to visit the foreman, Captain Thomas Walters, and bragged that he had a steam-powered drill that could drill faster than any crew of men. Captain Walters said in response, 'I don't need any machine. My man John Henry can out-drill any machine ever built.' To that, the man from town said, 'I'll place a bet with you. You race your man against my machine for a full day. If your man wins, I'll give you my steam drill for nothing.' Captain Walters went to John and told him what the stranger had said. "Are you willing to race the steam drill?' John Henry said right back, 'A man's a man, but a machine ain't nothing but a machine. I'll beat that steam drill.'"
"Sounds like a boast."
"Not really. To John Henry, it was a fact and he knew it. He told Polly Ann, 'Don't worry, honey. I've got a man's heart in here,' he said, tapping his chest. 'All a machine has is a metal engine.' On the morning of the contest, the slopes around the tunnel entrance looked like the stadium seats at the SuperBowl. At one side sat the steam drill, with men loading pine wood into the furnace and giving it a final once over with grease and oil."
Lara Croft closed her eyes…
…and she was there.
She looked around, finding herself standing between the gleaming steam-drill and… Lara blinked. To her left stood a giant of a man, eight feet of ebony muscle, wearing boots and heavy pants with a thick belt around the waist. He stood leaning on his hammer, his wide shoulders shining like hard coal in the rising sun.
"How do you feel, John Henry?"
Lara turned to see a small man, little more than half John Henry's size, readying the drill with his hands.
John Henry turned to the man and smiled widely. "I feel like a bird ready to bust out of a nest egg. I feel like a rooster ready to crow. I feel pride hammering at my heart and I can hardly wait to get started against that machine." He took a deep breath, filling his lungs. "I feel powerful free, Li'l Willie."
Lara smiled. There was something about that huge frame that bespoke of something pure. Lara wasn't intimidated being this close to a massive man like John Henry…she felt reassured by his presence.
"Ready?!" yelled a man off to Lara's right, holding up a starter's pistol. The crowd went as silent as the mountain. John Henry picked up his hammer as a man placed his hand on the valve that would send the steam drill forward. Then the gun barked. John Henry swung and his hammer rang against the drill as the steam drill gave a hiss and a roar and the drill bit into the granite of the mountain.
Lara watched, utterly spellbound as John Henry pounded his way into the mountain, his hammer singing through the air.
Time passed; Lara had not idea how much, but she found herself standing next to John as he drove through the mountain. "How are we doin'?" John asked Li'l Willie.
"The machine's ahead, John Henry!" Rock dust covered his face, making it pale.
John Henry tossed his hammer aside. Lara watched it land, smoking, as John called back towards the entrance, "Bring me two hammers! I'm only getting' warmed up!!" John Henry took the hammers brought to him and took one in each hand, swinging with powerful strokes. Sparks flew, singing John's face. The hammers began to glow like torches.
Time passed in the blink of an eye and Lara found herself still be John Henry's side, but they were now deep inside the mountain. "How're we doin' now, Li'l Willie?"
Li'l Willie grinned in the glow of the hammers. "The drill's busted. They have to take time to fix up a new one. You're almost even now, John Henry! How're you feelin'?"
"I'm feelin' like sunrise!" John's hammer's flashed against the drill, leaving blurs of light behind them. "Clean out the hole, Willie, and we'll drive right down to China!!"
Lara stepped back, watching John Henry's face. There was no denying it, the legend was right: John Henry was born for driving steel.
More time passed, an hour as a second to Lara. Then she heard the drill start up again. John Henry frowned at the sound. "That sound hurts my ears. Sing me a song, Li'l Willie!!" he gasped, "Sing me a natural song for my hammers to sing along with!"
Li'l Willie sang and Lara's heart sang right along with it. John Henry kept his hammers going in time as the sun rolled past noon and towards the west.
"How're you feelin', John Henry?" Li'l Willie asked.
"I ain't tired yet…only I have kind of a roarin' in my ears."
"That's only the steam engine. You're gainin' on it, John Henry. I reckon you're at least two inches ahead."
John Henry coughed and slung his hammer back. "I'll beat it by a mile, before the sun sets."
"You can't keep it up at this rate, you've got to slow down…" Lara said, but if Li'l Willie or John heard her, they gave no sign.
Time blurred again.
Li'l Willie called out, his eyes sparkling, "You're gonna win, John Henry, if you can keep on drivin'!!"
John Henry ground his teeth together and said, "I'll go 'til I drop. I'm a steel-drivin' man and I'm bound to win, because a machine ain't nothin' but a machine!"
Lara's worry increased as she watched. "How can you keep this up? You CAN'T keep it up, you're only human…"
The sun slid lower. The shadows of the crowd grew long and purple.
Lara suddenly found herself outside the entrances. Polly Ann was there, watching and listening. The sun flared for an instant, then died behind the mountain. Lara heard the crack of the gun and watched the judges run forward to measure the depth of the holes drilled by the steam engine as John Henry walked out, assisted by Li'l Willie and Captain Walters. Lara ran over to John Henry as the judges came back, whispering to Captain Walters. He smiled and looked up at John Henry as he leaned against the side of the mountain he had spent the entire day boring into it. "John Henry, you beat that steam engine by four feet!!"
John Henry looked up as the crowd cheered, the cheer echoing through the countryside. He held up his hand to shake Captain Walters' hand, then staggered.
"NO!" Lara cried as John Henry fell to the ground. Polly Ann and Li'l Willie rushed over to him and bent over him.
"How do you feel, John Henry?" Polly Ann asked, tears in her eyes.
"I feel…a bit tuckered out," John Henry said as Lara felt his chest. There was no heartbeat.
"Do you want me to sing to you?" Li'l Willie asked, crying himself.
"I got a song in my own heart, thank you, Li'l Willie." John Henry raised up on one elbow and looked at all the people, and the last sunset light gleaming like the edge of a golden trumpet, then right into Lara's eyes. "I was a steel-drivin' man," he said, and closed his eyes forever…
"Lara?"
Lara blinked, sitting up in her chair, wiping her eyes. David was looking down at her, concern on his face. "Yes, what is it?"
"You okay, Lara? You kinda zoned out on me there."
Lara cleared her throat. "Just…lost in thought, I guess." She looked up at David and asked, almost pleadingly, "What happened to John Henry after that?"
David stared at Lara for a moment, then said, "Not much there. A couple of local legends say that John Henry's body was buried, with his hammer, in the side of a mountain north of White Sulphur Springs. After that, the legends continue. They say that John Henry's body hasn't decomposed. He lies in his grave, hammer in hand, ready to ride up again when his people need him most. Kind of a variation of the Arthur mythos."
"Be careful, Dave. It's not a myth. There's a difference."
"Whatever. Another legend says that a second hammer exists, and that if the two were brought together, their true power would manifest. A third mentions that as long as John Henry remains in his grave, the Allegheny route will not suffer any railway accidents." David set the book down. "I can't find anything else notable about this place."
"That's notable enough."
Lara and David turned to see Henry Freeman enter the room and close the door. "Nice to see you, Mr. Freeman."
"Same to you two as well. Maybe you can get William out of his current fix."
"William's ALIVE?" David stood up.
"SHHHHHHHH!!! Not so loud! Do you want the whole town to hear?"
"What's going on here, Mr. Freeman?" Lara asked, mildly exasperated. "Why all the secrecy?"
"Because the Sheriff was there when William's house was put to the torch."
"Why?? Why does somebody want William dead?"
"Because he found something he shouldn't have found."
"What?"
Henry looked around conspiratorially, then said in a whisper, "John Henry's hammer."
"You're kidding," David said automatically.
"NO, I'm not."
"Why shouldn't he have found it? I think there'd be many museums who would be proud to exhibit a folk hero like John Henry," said Lara.
"And that's why he shouldn't have found it."
David sat back in his chair. "Yep, you're a teacher, alright. Ten seconds into the lecture, and already you're confusing me. And what does all this have to do with the Sheriff??"
"Listen to me, David, listen carefully. A long time ago, William's mother, Beula, came across some letters, old ones. They were written by her great-great-great-grandfather, William, and addressed to his wife in Atlanta, Georgia. She named her son after him. What she didn't know until after she read those letters was that William was actually…"
"Li'l Willie?" Lara ventured.
"Correct. He wrote to tell her about his adventures with John Henry, and wrote about his final resting place. William had already gone there and brought back John Henry's hammer, to give to a museum. The problem was, he reported his find to the Sheriff, who turned out to be a card-carrying member of the Klu Klux Klan."
"Is William okay?"
"Yes, he's hiding out at an old treehouse we made when we were kids. No one goes down there and it's overgrown, so he'll be okay for now. But that's not important. The Sheriff has taken the hammer somewhere and I can't find out where. I'm no adventurer, I'm a schoolteacher. But I've heard a great deal about your exploits, Miss Croft. Maybe you can find out what happened to the hammer."
"It would be our pleasure, Mr. Freeman. See that William remains in one piece and we'll get the hammer back. Come along, Dave…the game's afoot." Lara got up and walked out of the room.
David stood up and turned to Henry. "How can anyone not have confidence in a woman who can deliver a line like that with a straight face?" With that, he left the room and Henry sat down in the chair that Lara had recently vacated.
I hope you come through, Miss Lara Croft… he thought, suddenly quite tired. I'm too old for this cloak-and-dagger stuff.
"I wouldn't miss this for anything," said the Sheriff with a grin.
"Do you have the hammer with you?"
"No, I've got it stashed in a safe place."
"Make sure it stays safe until tonight. I don't want this little barbecue to go sour." Angus sighed. "We're getting a visit from none other than the General himself. I'm not going to be the one to tell him that he came all this way for nothing."
"Stop worrying. I'll take care of everything."
"Good, Brother James. We'll see you tonight."
Sheriff Robertson put down the phone. A few miles away, David set down the earphone connected to the receiver and looked across the table in their hotel room. Lara asked, "Well?"
"He's in on it, all right…but it doesn't sound like he's got the hammer. He said he stashed it somewhere and he didn't say where. I do know what he plans to do with it, though."
"What?"
"There's going to be a big rally tonight, over at a field near the mountains north of here. A bunch of racists are going to be showing up at the big bonfire there…where they'll burn the hammer and melt down whatever's left of it."
"Not on your life. We'll just have to get the hammer back."
"Hold on, Lara. According to Angus, Robertson's contact, we're expecting a guest list of about two hundred racists, all quite probably armed. We're going to need a PLAN, Lara."
"Why spoil our perfect record now?" Lara asked, but she sobered. "You're right, of course. But first, we've got to get there. Did our kind Sheriff mention the location in detail?"
"No, but we do have a place to start. If they're expecting that many people, it's safe to say that someone is probably there already, setting up for the festivities. All we need to do is find them."
"Indeed…in less than four hours."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
"That plan you were talking about."
"Let's get over there first, check out the opposition."
"Agreed."
It didn't take very long for David and Lara to find the field in question. All they needed to do was head north and follow a truck hauling fresh lumber. They turned off the road a few miles back and stashed the car, then went the rest of the way on foot, Lara in her "working outfit" and David in jeans, T-shirt and boots. Both were also typically armed for bear, Lara with her twin Colts and David with his Desert Eagle.
They moved in, weaving through the trees at a trot, coming to the edge of the treeline and crouching down. The field was populated with workers setting up for a large convention, with the heaviest work on a large stage built on the eastern side of the field. It was approaching the finishing stage, but the work was shoddy at best.
"What do you think?" David asked, settling in. "Think we can mingle?"
"Yes, but to what end? We'll be recognized if we go down there and wait for the festivities to begin, certainly by Sheriff Robertson."
"Maybe not. If there's one constant about racists, it's that they can be recognized for screaming about justice and patriotism while wearing hoods to disguise themselves."
"I think we left our hoods back at the hotel."
"Cute…but correct." David watched the groups of men and women for a while, then smiled. "Hey, Lara."
"What?"
"How are you at carpentry?"
Hours later, the field was ablaze.
Large torches ringed the field where more than three hundred men, women and children, stood there to proclaim their hatred and fear, voices raised in anger and robes and hoods of white flanked the walkway heading up to the main stage where the festivities would begin. Men in red robes stood on the stage, hooded and masked, standing like soldiers at attention.
Finally, at nine o'clock, one of the hooded men stepped forward to the coarse wooden podium that stood in front of a huge wooden dais. He took out a microphone. "Brothers! Sisters! Friends and Americans!!"
A cheer rose from the crowd, fists raised in triumph and hatred.
"I stand before you in triumph tonight, because we have gained a victory in the fight for freedom and justice! No, not a fight…a WAR. A war against invaders that have already penetrated our defenses, entrenched themselves in our midst and make our streets a battleground for their children. You know them, their faces. They have come here to destroy our way of life!!" A roar of anger assaulted the stage. "They kill our men! They lust after our women! They send their children forth in gangs to destroy your children! They refuse to go back where they belong, staying here in a constant and relentless campaign to destroy all of America! They use the press and the bleeding-hearts for their own needs, giving them the resources they need. They demand that their own so-called 'heroes' be put up in the light and shown off while they commit unspeakable acts in dark corners of America! Well, my friends, my fellow Americans…tonight, we shall forever deprive them of one of their heroes!!"
A spotlight burst into life, illuminating the dais. Sitting on it was a huge sledgehammer.
"Remember their hero, John Henry? A man who was proven by our historians to be nothing more than a stupid slave too dumb to do more than swing a hammer? Here lies that hammer!" Another spotlight lit up the side of the mountain, revealing a rough-hewn hole. "And THAT, my friends, is the tomb of that man!"
The cries of rage became louder, easily able to hide the talking going on underneath the stage.
"If hear much more of this stuff, I'm gonna puke."
"The rest of your plan would sound good right about now, Dave…"
"Simple. When they put the hammer on the dais and light the fire, I wait until the fire obscures the hammer and then I pull this rope, dropping the hammer down here. Then we hustle out the little door I made for us, hit the treeline and then we're outta here. By the time they sift through the ashes and find that the metal head of the hammer isn't there, we'll be LONG gone."
"Simple, elegant…I like it, Dave. Let's hope things go as smoothly as you say."
Up above, the Grand Wizard held a torch aloft. "Tonight, we strike a blow for the honor of our race and our struggle!! Let this show that we're not afraid of our Enemy…and that we can strike at his heart at any time!!!" He dropped the torch as the base of the dais and stepped back as the flame caught the gasoline-soaked wood. He signaled to the others and they, too, threw their torches at the stage while running off and away from it. When they reached a distance of approximately forty feet, they stopped, turned…and watched.
Meanwhile, things were getting a little stuffy underneath the stage.
"Dave, I hate to be a nag, but it's getting awfully warm under here!"
"Just a few more seconds…" David said insistently, but he looked worried. A lot more smoke then David had figured was building underneath the stage. "Now!" He pulled on the rope and the trap doors he and Lara had built into the dais opened, dropping the hammer to the earth below. Coughing, David ran to the hammer and picked it up. "Jeez, this thing is HEAVY…!"
Lara ran to the door and stopped. "Dave, I hope you have an alternate plan!"
"What?" David turned and ran to her side, then stopped as he saw that the exit door was now completely engulfed in flame! "Ooops…"
"You picked a POOR TIME to say that word!!" Lara yelled.
Outside, the leader of the group watched with a curious look on his face. The roar of the great bonfire was close to deafening, but he swore he heard shouts from INSIDE the stage! Plus, something was bothering
him about the way the dais collapsed as the flames grew higher. The hammer shouldn't have fallen through so soon…
He attuned his ears past the sounds of crackling wood and tried to shut out the cheers of the crowd.
Lara looked around, then took the hammer from David's hands. "Time to make our own exit!" She looked around, then ran to the far side of the stag, keeping her head low to escape the smoke building underneath the stage. David ran behind her, then stopped as a section of the stage fell between them with a fiery CRASH!!
Lara turned back as she heard the sound. "DAVID!!"
The leader stared into the fire. "Sheriff! Get over here!"
Another hooded man ran over to the Grand Wizard. "Yes, Sire!"
"Somebody's under the stage; I distinctly heard a woman's voice call out the name, 'David'!"
"David…Connors! He and some woman were snooping around the nigger's place!"
"Get your men ready…they may try to escape! Surround the stage!"
"I'm alright…(koff, koff, koff)…if you call being under a bonfire alright!" David came around the collapsed wood and ran to Lara's side just as more of the stage fell through behind him.
Lara nodded, then ran to a part of the stage not yet completely consumed in flame, raising the hammer high. "Ready?!"
David pulled his Desert Eagle. "Ready!"
Lara hauled back with the hammer and swung mightily against the wood. The effect was better than she could've hoped as the impact caused the entire section of the stage to explode outwards. David burst through the opening, firing his massive pistol into the air. The men close by dove for what little cover there was as Lara burst past him, looking for a way out, any way out.
The only refuge was the hole in the side of the mountain. "David!" she yelled, sprinting for the opening. David caught the clue and began laying down fire to keep the armed bigots from getting a good shot at them. That didn't stop them from trying, though as bullets flew towards them, striking the ground around them and whizzing past them.
Sheriff Robertson drew his shotgun and aimed carefully as his men ran for cover. "Never liked you, bitch…" he muttered as he pulled the trigger.
Lara yelped in pain as the blast took a chunk out of her leg and she stumbled. David saw her fall and swooped down, pulling her up and carrying her the rest of the way to the cave entrance. Lara let the hammer fall as David set her on the ground and looked at her wound. "Dammit!!" He took off his shirt and began to rip it into strips before Lara took his arm in her hand.
"I can do this myself…just make sure they don't come in here!"
David nodded and ran back to the cave entrance just in time to see two men and a woman approaching the mouth of the cave. He snarled and brought his gun up, shattering the kneecaps of the woman and one of the men and watching them fall back. "Anyone else tries to come in here and I'll fill 'em fulla holes!!" Not particularly eloquent, but sufficient to get the point across, he thought.
The Grand Wizard gave Sheriff Robertson a cold I'll-talk-to-you-later-about-this look and picked up a megaphone. "COME ON OUT, MR. CONNORS, AND GIVE US THE HAMMER!"
"Right! And we'll forget the whole thing, is that it?"
"YOUR WOMAN'S HURT, MR. CONNORS…SHE MAY BLEED TO DEATH. AND THEN WE'LL COME IN ANYWAY."
"Go ahead. We'll see how many I take with me when you do. Please tell me you'll come in first!!"
"VERY BRAVE WORDS, MR. CONNORS. WE'LL SEE HOW BRAVE YOU ARE WHEN YOUR WOMAN BLEEDS TO DEATH!"
"You're forgetting something, Mr. High-And-Mighty!"
"AND WHAT IS THAT, MAY I ASK?"
David smiled. "The wonders of sat-phone technology! I can have the FBI here in a matter of minutes! Disperse and bail, and I'll leave you alone! Hang around here long enough…and each and every one of you will get an engraved invitation to Club Fed!!"
The Grand Wizard lowered the megaphone and turned to Sheriff Robertson. "Unless you have a very good idea about what to do, Sheriff, you are in very serious trouble."
Sheriff Robertson smiled. "Actually, I do have an idea. Warren, bring it over here."
David went back to Lara. "How are ya doing, sweetheart?"
"I'll live…it's not bad, but that cretin is right. I am going to need a doctor, and soon."
"MR. CONNORS! ARE YOU STILL THERE?"
"What does HE want?" David groused as he went to the entrance of the cavern. "Yeah! I'm still here!"
"GOOD."
David frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. He was about to call out again when he noticed something extending from a pile of rocks next to him.
A wire.
Sheriff Robertson raised the radio detonator high. "Goodbye, nigger-lover," he said viciously and pressed the button.
The entrance of the cave exploded as the dynamite placed around the mouth of the cave went off, sending tons of rock cascading down over the blast point. After a few seconds of grinding rock and stone, silence reigned over the field. Then the assembly cheered as Sheriff Robertson put the detonator away. The Grand Wizard looked at him in admiration. "When did you set THAT up?"
"Well, I didn't want some moron coming over to view our handiwork in the tomb, so I set the dynamite up to erase all traces that we were there. At least now we can get rid of the witnesses. We can always come back later to dig out the body so we can destroy it later."
The leader smiled. "Clever. And you're sure there's no way out of there."
"That cave was the only exit, and he'll never be able to use that sat-phone through miles of granite. If he wasn't killed by the blast, which I hope he wasn't, he and his girlfriend are going to find out how it feels to die by suffocation as the air goes bad in there. Slow and painful, from what I hear."
"Excellent. Now let's get out of here. Somebody will eventually come by to see what's going on, and that explosion will ensure that someone will come to investigate soon. Disperse the crowd, tell everyone to go home."
"Yes, Sire."
David rubbed rock dust from his face. "Lara?"
"Still here…" Lara shook her head. "I can barely hear you!"
"What?? I can't hear you!"
Lara sighed. "At least our hearing should return soon. Come on, David, help me up!"
David shook his head to try to get the ringing out of his ears, then help Lara to one foot. "Now what??"
"RUN!"
David looked around and felt the shuddering of the walls around them. "The blast must've started a chain reaction!" He lifted both Lara and the hammer, hotfooting it down the passageway, feeling the ceiling caving in behind them and around them! He dodged two rocks and jumped over a third before coming to the end of the corridor, continuing his sprint until he couldn't feel the ground moving anymore. David turned and looked behind him at the stone that now filled the passageway.
Lara and David found themselves inside a large cavern, at least fifty feet high and populated by stalagmites. Looking around in wonder, they moved through the forest of stone until they came to the center. A huge stone block sat on the stone floor of the cavern. Lara moved to the stone and brushed away the dust that covered it, revealing letters.
"What does it say?" David asked in a more normal tone of voice; his hearing was returning.
"'Here lies a steel-drivin' man'…David, it's John Henry's crypt!"
David sat down on the stone casket. "Looks like it's going to be ours as well," he said morosely.
"Don't say that, David. We can't give up now."
"Lara, be sensible. There are no other exits and the air in here isn't going to last forever. And getting out the way we came in will take YEARS of digging."
"Fine. YOU can be sensible. I'll be unreasonably optimistic."
"How can you be optimistic?? You're gonna bleed to death…"
David stopped. "I'm sorry, Lara. It's just that…"
"What?" Lara sat on the casket, letting her legs dangle over the side.
"Nothing."
"Dave, NOW is most certainly not the time for words like, 'nothing.' If you want to tell me something, tell me," Lara said gently.
David shook his head. "Well, Lara…jeez, this is the worst possible time for this. Lara, I've been thinking a lot about us…" Suddenly Lara's eyes widened. "Now, come on, Lara, it's not that bad a subject…"
"David!"
"What?"
"The hammer…"
"Screw the hammer, Lara, what use is it…?"
"…it's GLOWING!"
David spun around to see the hammer, glowing dully, but growing brighter by the second. It rose off its resting place on the ground and moved towards the stone coffin. Lara scrambled off and David pulled her away as the hammer rose into the air…
…then came down on the coffin!!
The stone exploded and David and Lara shielded their eyes from flying fragments of rock, but none came. The impact had completely DISINTEGRATED the stone. Then the hammer gracefully lowered itself into the coffin…and then a bright light glowed from inside the casket, lighting the domed ceiling like the Bat-signal. The two adventurers stepped back in astonishment.
And then a hand reached up and grasped the side of the coffin.
The hand soon became an arm, then a torso, then a tall humanoid figure, illuminated from behind and from in front by the glowing hammers, one in each hand. A rich voice boomed from the eight-foot-tall figure: "I'm John Henry, and I was born with a hammer in my hand."
Then the light dimmed and Lara swore she saw the outline of wings behind the figure before the light died. But the hammers still glowed a reddish-white light as John Henry walked over to Lara and David. He knelt to one knee and looked at the both of them. No one spoke.
Then John Henry smiled, a wide, all-encompassing smile that seemed to give of its own light. "I know you," the ebon giant said to Lara.
"I…I had a dream about you…" Lara said in a whisper.
"I dreamed you, too, woman." The voice seemed to hold a mystery inside it. "I been asleep for a long time, dreamin' dreams of angels, waitin' for someone to bring my other hammer back." He turned to David as he stood up. "I dreamed of you, too…only you looked taller, and wore steel."
"Taller? Steel?" David shook his head. "You got the wrong guy…John Henry."
John Henry looked around the cavern. "I thank ya for bringin' back my hammer, but you don' look happy to be here."
"We're trapped in here, John Henry. The cave's sealed off, and the air's not going to last long. We can't get out."
John threw back his head and laughed as if he'd heard a particularly good joke. Then he turned to the others with his wide, beaming smile. "You helped a good friend of mine, man. I know you better'n you think. You keep him alive, help 'im get back to his momma. You help him…and now I help you. Come on." He walked to the cave-in and studied it the way an architect studies a blueprint. David picked up Lara and walked to John Henry's side.
After a few moments, David looked up at John. "Well?"
John Henry hefted both hammers as if they small sticks. "Stand back. Li'l Willie! Set that drill, so we can drill us a hole!"
"Who are…" David began, then shut up as a large curved spike surrounded by blue fire rose from the floor and planted itself against the rocks and stone in John Henry's way.
"Sing me a song, Li'l Willie! Sing me a song for my hammers to sing along with!!"
A disembodied voice, rich and clear, sang a song that had no words and needed none. John smiled and raised his hammers, then swung them against the drill bit, driving it deep into the rock and sending up a spray of dust. Another drill appeared just in time to be struck by John's next swing, and then another and another as the hammerheads streaked through the air, John's swings coming faster and faster as he bent to his work, drilling through the rock with superhuman speeds. Each impact completely vaporized the granite underneath the steel and John's hammers glowed red-hot. With each strike, a foot of rock disappeared. Lara and David found themselves needing to stay far back from John Henry's work, as the air heated up around him from the power of his hammers. But even as fiery as the air became, John Henry's spirit never flagged, never stopped. Even as far back as they were, Lara and David could still hear John's deep voice echo through the tunnel. "Sing louder, Li'l Willie, I feel like a river pressin' against a dam! I feel like a new day! Keep that drill steady, Li'l Willie, and we'll drill right down to Hades and box Ol' Scratch's ears!"
The Grand Wizard watched the last of the victorious assembly leave, turning to his men and Sheriff Robertson. "I think it's time we left, gentlemen. Our holy work is done and we have our families to return…" He stopped. "What's that noise?"
"What noise?" Sheriff Robertson looked around. So did the other men.
"…sounds like thunder." The Grand Wizard looked up into the starry sky. "But there's no clouds."
"I hear it." One of the Wizard's men looked towards the mountain. "It's getting' louder!"
All of the men looked to the mountain, backing away.
"Earthquake??" ventured one of the men.
"In West Virginia? Don't be…"
And then the mountain exploded.
The Sheriff, the Grand Wizard and all their friends were blown off their feet as the cave entrance was blasted open by the force of a hundred battering rams, rocks flying everywhere over their prone bodes. When the Grand Wizard looked up, he prayed that his eyes were deceiving him.
Standing in front of him was an eight-foot-tall, muscular black man with two red-hot hammers in his hands, a light from God-on-High illuminating him. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
David and Lara cleared the entrance and Lara broke from David's grip, leaning against the side of the mountain for support as she drew her Colts. David drew his gun and aimed at Sheriff Robertson. "Drop 'em!!!" he yelled. The Sheriff and his men reluctantly complied, cowed by the sight of two armed mortals and one gigantic angel in front of them.
John Henry looked down at the Grand Wizard, who was backing away, fear in his eyes at the apparition in front of him. He trembled as John Henry reached down towards himThe Grand Wizard threw up an arm as if to block a blow, but the anticipated blow never came. The Grand Wizard lowered his arm to see that John Henry was holding out a hand to help the Grand Wizard to his feet. "Get up, man, I ain't gonna hurt you."
The Grand Wizard looked up at John Henry, took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up as his other hand flashed out of his pocket, revealing six inches of sharpened steel! He shoved the knife into John Henry's torso and Lara yelled in warning, but not fast enough to keep the knife from snapping off in the Wizard's hand.
John Henry looked down at the Grand Wizard. "Why you do that? I never done anythin' to hurt you."
"You're an abomination…you never shoulda come here!" The Grand Wizard backed up, considering whether to use a gun on the giant in front of him.
John Henry looked confused. "People like you, you all the same. You bring us here and then blame us for bein' here. You teach us to be like you and you punish us for it. You sayin' all blacks are bad, but that's like sayin' all whites are like the Nazis."
"What do you know about the Master Race?" the Grand Wizard spat.
"I see lots from where I was. Ain't no 'master race'…jest God's people. But you don't like us 'cause we're different and you need someone to blame your problems on. Ain't nobody better or worse than anybody else."
"I am doing the Lord's work, ghost or demon or whatever you are…I am doing the holy and sacred work of God!"
"What's holy about fear? What's sacred about hatred? I ain't here to preach to you, I ain't got the tongue for it. I jest came to get my hammer back, though I think it might be better off someplace else, don'tcha think, Miz Croft?"
"I'll make sure it goes somewhere anyone can go to look at it and see what it stands for, I swear."
"Doan swear, Miz Croft, jest do what the good Book says. 'Just do what you say you will.' David?"
David walked over to John Henry, keeping his eyes on the hooded men. "Yes?" he asked.
"Put away the gun, David, they ain't gonna do nothin'." As David slowly put the gun in its holster, John Henry held out the hammer in his right hand. "Take it and let my people know who I am. Tell them that I am real."
"I'll do it…no matter what," he added, looking at the Grand Wizard.
"Don't hate them, David. Pray for 'em. They been answering to the wrong lord, thassall. Don't judge 'em, 'cause it ain't your right." He turned to Lara and smiled. "The Lord's callin' and my time here is done, for now."
Then a bright, blinding light enveloped all.
EPILOGUE
William Jackson, a handsome black man in his late twenties with a strong face and a dark blue suit, stood outside the white wooden church, waiting patiently. However, when the minute hand began to come dangerously close to the number twelve, he started to worry. Five minutes before eight o'clock, an Acura NSX drove into the parking lot and David Connors stepped out, followed shortly by Lara Croft. Both wore their Sunday best. "William!" David smiled as he ran up the stairs three at a time, Lara following behind with a Mona-Lisa-smile on her lips.
"David, you'd be late for your own funeral," William said, shaking his head.
"I certainly hope so. William, I want you to meet my partner in crime, Lara Croft."
"Heard a lot about you, Lara." William shook Lara's hand warmly.
"I deny everything," she responded mischievously.
William laughed. "Glad you could come to our church."
"Sure it won't make anyone nervous?" David asked hesitantly. "From the look of it, Lara and I are the only white people here."
"Everyone here knows what you've done about John Henry's hammer. You've helped us get a part of our history into the light. I don't think anyone here will hold that against you. Now come on, the singing's about to start." All three of them went inside as the choir stood up and began to sing the opening hymn. Lara was nearly blasted backwards at the force of the singing; she'd never seen anyone put so much power and emotion into a simple hymn like "Let It Shine," and she found herself dwarfed by the music that filled the building and threatened to shake the rafters loose. As the service went on, Lara found herself impressed by the power in that small wooden church. The service made the church services she had attended in England seem small by comparison.
Afterwards, many came forward to introduce themselves to Lara and David, and many others came forward to shake the hands of the people who put the hammer of John Henry in the Smithsonian institution. They were invited to the picnic after church and they accepted. As they walked out of the building, the pastor met them at the door. Pastor Roman was a small man in stature, but the power of his faith made him look ten feet tall at the podium. "Lara Croft and David Connors," he said with a smile. "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done."
"Please, sir. It was nothing. In fact, as our adventures go, I'd say this was one of our calmer weeks."
"Calmer??" David turned to Lara in disbelief.
Pastor Roman chuckled. "Will I see you next week?"
"Afraid not, Father. We have to catch a plane back to England this very night."
"I hope you'll be able to stay for the picnic."
"We will. Wouldn't miss it."
"Good! I hope to see you there."
David, Lara and William walked back to the Acura. "Well, William, what's the story on our not-so-favorite hoods?"
"They're spending time in jail for attempted murder, conspiracy and a slew of other charges. Needless to say, we're looking for a new Sheriff. Boyd might make a good Sheriff."
"Yeah, if it weren't for the fact that he's already with the FBI. Hard to believe that goofy looking deputy was actually an undercover agent investigating the racist problem around here."
"That was rather the point, wasn't it, Dave?" Lara said. "He's a rather nice chap after all."
"Not something we could say about Senator Johnson, huh? His constituents are going to get a nasty shock when they find out he was the head of the KKK around here. I hope he enjoys his new office. Pity about the view, though." William smiled.
"Maybe you should be Sheriff, William. You're an ex-cop, after all…and I'd feel better about this place if you were the Law around here," David said knowingly.
"I'll think about it. In the meantime, let's go to a picnic. I hope you like barbecued ribs, Lara."
"Never had them…but I'm looking forward to the experience."
"I'll meet you there." William went over to his car.
As David unlocked the doors and got into the driver's seat, he turned to Lara before starting the engine. "Think we should tell anyone about what REALLY happened out there?"
"No. Besides, God doesn't need that kind of publicity."
"Good, because I'm not sure I believe it myself. And what was all that about me wearing steel?"
"Well, Dave, I always thought of you as my knight in shining armor. Maybe somebody else recognized it in you."
"Me? A knight? PLEASE."
"Well, Dave, you are a crusader of sorts…that much is obvious."
David snorted. "Maybe…but actual armor? Not a chance. Now let's get to the picnic…I have a sudden need to devour some corn-on-the-cob."
As the car drove away, Pastor Roman watched them leave. He smiled gently. "God be with you both," he murmured, "for I do not envy you the road you must now travel." With that enigmatic sentence said, he went back inside the church.