Gabriel had expected a few murmurs of dissent from those who were complacent about the
status quo. He moved out in the aisle, and his eyes locked on the man. “People who felt they had
every right to enslave us will never, ever, truly accept us.”
Jean gave him an encouraging smile, as murmurs of curiosity filtered through the room. His
men were keeping a watchful eye on the attendees, likely making mental notes of the women they
wanted as permanent mates.
Gabriel allowed his gaze to travel along the line of men standing against the outer walls. He
froze when his eyes fell upon Luke Graham. How on earth did that spineless man hear about the
meeting? He frantically scanned the rest of the room and released a sigh of relief. Well, at least he
left his hellcat wife at home. Lucille alone could present more trouble than everyone in the place
combined.
He pulled himself from his thoughts and said, “We have believed in their power for too long
and have forgotten our own. We must focus on doing what we can for ourselves to gain respect
not just here in the United States, but also within the international community.”
After a long, drawn-out silence, Gabriel exhaled. He continued his pace until he was again in
front of his wife. “Our women,” he said, his eyes settling on one woman after the next, “are more
powerful than we know. Overall, the White man and we, as Negro men, have failed to recognize
what a precious resource they are.” He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his wife’s
temple. He lingered for several moments then pulled away to take in the approving smiles of the
women nearby before continuing his journey up the second aisle.
“The White man has totally controlled and disrespected his woman, but he has always been
fascinated by our women. He took what he wanted from her—her body, her maternal force, her
inner strength—and used it to help build his own world.”
A short, stout man interrupted, “Yeah, but look at what they done to our men. Torture. Castratin’.
Hangin’.” His ham of a fist shook in the air. “And what about what they did to that boy Emmett
Till?”
A roar of support went up from the crowd, and Gabriel held up his hand to quiet them. “They
take such actions because they are afraid of the Negro male of what would happen if they finally
tired of the injustice and rise up,” Gabriel said as he made his way back to Jean. “But,” he gently
touched his wife’s face, “they are in no way threatened by our women. And it is not because they
believe they are weak.” He pivoted to face everyone. “They want our women—adore them. But
in some ways, they want to control them with the same mental noose they have over their own.”
He sauntered up the middle aisle and looked over his shoulder at Jean. A flash of approval
glimmered in her soft brown eyes. He tore his gaze from the lips curved upward in a satisfied
smile, then looked at the other women in the room and saw the desire and jealousy in their eyes.
Practically seducing his wife in front of the women was sure to strike a chord of longing and make
them want the very thing that he and Jean had—wealth, respect, and most of all, love.
“Women, you are the key to our salvation.”
46 | NKLC Magazine