Woman Alone

Jude paused a moment, straightened her hair, and gained her composure.  As she walked into the gallery, she saw, through the glass partition, that Gavin Crane was pacing back and forth in the office. Maggie stood in the doorway, as if keeping a safe distance.

        “Mr. Crane,” Jude greeted him as she walked through the office door.  “I’m Jude Bennett, the owner of Woman Space. How can I help you?”

        “You need to tell my wife that she’s not goin’ to be involved in this business!” he shouted.  “Not only is she doin’ the devil’s work with all this painting, she’s bein’ influenced to be disobedient to her husband by you people.  This is your fault! You’re responsible for me losin’ control of my wife!”

        Jude caught the wild look in the man’s eyes. His left eyebrow twitched slightly.  Her own adrenalin began to flow.

        “Mr. Crane, I understood that you and Madi were divorced.”  Jude said calmly.  “We’re trying to help her build an income so she can support herself.”

        This only infuriated him more.  “What God has joined together let no man put asunder!” he yelled, as he slapped a large worn Bible down on Jude’s desk.  “No piece of paper tells me whether she’s my wife or not.  She’s the mother of my children, and I’ve taken care of her for eleven years!” 

        Jude could see the veins protruding on his forehead, and her heart pounded.  Out of her peripheral vision she saw Andrew come in from the parking garage and pretend to be looking at the artwork near the office.  Crane was too absorbed in his anger to notice Andrew, or that Maggie walked toward the front door. Hopefully the police would arrive any minute.  Jude had to figure a way to stall him without making him more irate.  She walked to the coffee pot and poured a cup of coffee.  Her hand shook slightly; she was glad her back was to the angry man.

        “Do you take cream or sugar, Mr. Crane?” she asked without emotion.

        “No. Just black.”

        Jude thought she heard a slightly softer edge to his voice.

        As she turned to hand him the coffee, she could smell alcohol on his breath.  “Please, sit down with me and tell me what has you so upset.”        

        Thank God, Jude thought, as he sat down in the chair to the front of her desk and took a sip of coffee.  She took a seat putting the desk between them.

        “Look here,” Crane began, “Madi and I are going through a rough spot, that’s all.  She thinks she wants to get away from me, but it’s all this craziness about bein’ an artist.  There’s no way she can make it on her own selling these god-awful wooden totems.  Nobody makes a livin’ doing art!  She’s losin’ her mind, and I’m responsible for her.  She’s my wife, and she’s one of my flock.”

        “Your flock?” Jude asked.

        “I’m a preacher of God’s word.  I know what’s best for my family, and you’re gonna   tell her she can’t display her work here.  She’s goin’ home with me!”

        “I’m sure we can work this out.  Is the coffee okay?  Strong enough?”

Crane nodded.

        “Okay.  Let’s think this through, Mr. Crane.  How long have you and Madi been married?”

        “Eleven years.  And I’ve been very good to her…took good care of her and the kids. I provide everything she needs.  Her place is in the home takin’ care of the kids and makin’ sure we have good meals and clean clothes.  I thought lettin’ her buy some carvin’ tools and bang around on some wood would keep her happy, not turn into an excuse to desert us all.”

        “And how many children do you have?”

        “Four: a girl and three boys.  My wife is needed at home.”

        “How long have you been having marital trouble, Mr. Crane?”  Jude spoke in a soft calming voice.

        “Well….” he seemed to stop to consider just how long it had been.

        “Take your time,” Jude encouraged him. “We just need to think this through from the beginning.”  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a Chicago policeman enter the front door.  Maggie was speaking to him as she escorted him through the gallery toward the office.

        Noticing Jude was distracted, Mr. Crane followed her eyes to the officer. He mumbled something under his breath about “all these blacks surrounding him.”

        “Excuse me just a moment, Mr. Crane.”  Jude stood and walked to the office door.

        “Is there a problem here?” the officer asked.

        Crane stood, looking confused. 

        “I think Mr. Crane is just a bit upset,” Jude responded.

        “You’d better come with me sir.  We’ll get to the bottom of this at the station.”  The policeman reached for Crane’s arm, keeping his other hand on his revolver.  Seeing the revolver, Crane threw the hot coffee in the policeman’s face.  “Ain’t no nigger takin’ hold of me!” he yelled and bolted out the office door.  Fortunately, Andrew was ready for him.  He tackled Crane to the floor and held him down as the wincing police officer pulled his arms behind him and cuffed them.   Crane was breathing heavily but remained silent.  The coffee cup had shattered on the concrete floor; Maggie began to clean it up. 

        Jude grabbed a hand towel and motioned to the officer.

        “No.  I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head.

        Andrew and Jude followed the officer as he pushed a silent Mr. Crane ahead of him toward the door. At least Crane was sober enough not to fight the officer further.