"Brothers, please!" Brother Jack said. "One at a time. What do you know about this article?" he said to me.
"Not very much," I said. "The editor of the magazine called to say he was sending a reporter up for an interview. The reporter asked a few questions and took a few pictures with a little camera. That's all I know."
"Did you give the reporter a prepared handout?"
"I gave her nothing except a few pieces of our official literature. I told her neither what to ask me nor what to write. I naturally tried to co-operate. If an article about me would help make friends for the movement I felt it was my duty."
"Brothers, this thing was arranged," Wrestrum said. "I tell you this opportunist had that reporter sent up there. He had her sent up and he told her what to write."
"That's a contemptible lie," I said. "You were present and you know I tried to get them to interview Brother Clifton!"
"Who's a lie?"
"You're a liar and a fat-mouthed scoundrel. You're a liar and no brother of mine."
"Now he's calling me names. Brothers, you heard him."
"Let's not lose our tempers," Brother Jack said calmly. "Brother Wrestrum, you've made serious charges. Can you prove them?"
"I can prove them. All you have to do is read the magazine and prove them for yourself;"
"It will be read. And what else?"
"All you have to do is listen to folks in Harlem. All they talk about is him. Never nothing about what the rest of us do. I tell you, Brothers, this man constitutes a danger to the people of Harlem. He ought to be thrown out!"
"That is for the committee to decide," Brother Jack said. Then to me, "And what have you to say in your defense, Brother?"
"In my defense?" I said, "Nothing. I haven't anything to defend. I've tried to do my work and if the brothers don't know that, then it's too late to tell them. I don't know what's behind this, but I haven't gotten around to controlling magazine writers. And I didn't realize that I was coming to stand trial either."
"This was not intended as a trial," Brother Jack said. "If you're ever put on trial, and I hope you'll never be, you'll know it. Meantime, since this is an emergency the committee asks that you leave the room while we read and discuss the questioned interview."
I left the room and went into a vacant office, boiling with anger and disgust. Wrestrum had snatched me back to the South in the midst of one of the top Brotherhood committees and I felt naked. I could have throttled him -- forcing me to take part in a childish dispute before the others. Yet I had to fight him as I could, in terms he understood, even though we sounded like characters in a razor-slinging vaudeville skit. Perhaps I should mention the anonymous note, except that someone might take it to mean that I didn't have the full support of my district. If Clifton were here, he'd know how to handle this clown. Were they taking him seriously just because he was black? What was wrong with them anyway, couldn't they see that they were dealing with a clown? But I would have gone to pieces had they laughed or even smiled, I thought, for they couldn't laugh at him without laughing at me as well ... Yet if they had laughed, it would have been less unreal -- Where the hell am I?
"You can come in now," a brother called to me; and I went out to hear their decision.
"Well," Brother Jack said, "we've all read the article, Brother, and we're happy to report that we found it harmless enough. True, it would have been better had more wordage been given to other members of the Harlem district. But we found no evidence that you had anything to do with that. Brother Wrestrum was mistaken."
His bland manner and the knowledge that they had wasted time to see the truth released the anger within me.
"I'd say that he was criminally mistaken," I said.
"Not criminal, over-zealous," he said.
"To me it seems both criminal and over-zealous," I said.
"No, Brother, not criminal."
"But he attacked my reputation ..."
Brother Jack smiled. "Only because he was sincere, Brother. He was thinking of the good of the Brotherhood."
"But why slander me? I don't follow you, Brother Jack. I'm no enemy, as he well knows. I'm a brother too," I said, seeing his smile.
"The Brotherhood has many enemies, and we must not be too harsh with brotherly mistakes."
Then I saw the foolish, abashed expression on Wrestrum's face and relaxed.
"Very well, Brother Jack," I said. "I suppose I should be glad you found me innocent --"
"Concerning the magazine article," he said, stabbing the air with his finger.
Something tensed in the back of my head; I got to my feet.
"Concerning the article! You mean to say that you believe that other pipe-dream? Is everyone reading Dick Tracy these days?"
"This is no matter of Dick Tracy," he snapped. "The movement has many enemies."
"So now I have become an enemy," I said. "What's happened to everybody? You act as though none of you has any contact with me at all."
Jack looked at the table. "Are you interested in our decision, Brother?"
"Oh, yes," I said. "Yes, I am. I'm interested in all manner of odd behavior. Who wouldn't be, when one wild man can make a roomful of what I'd come to regard as some of the best minds in the country take him seriously. Certainly, I'm interested. Otherwise I'd act like a sensible man and run out of here!"
There were sounds of protest and Brother Jack, his face red, rapped for order.
"Perhaps I should address a few words to the brother," Brother MacAfee said.
"Go ahead," Brother Jack said thickly.
"Brother, we understand how you feel," Brother MacAfee said, "but you must understand that the movement has many enemies. This is very true, and we are forced to think of the organization at the expense of our personal feelings. The Brotherhood is bigger than all of us. None of us as individuals count when its safety is questioned. And be assured that none of us have anything but goodwill toward you personally. Your work has been splendid. This is simply a matter of the safety of the organization, and it is our responsibility to make a thorough investigation of all such charges."
I felt suddenly empty; there was a logic in what he said which I felt compelled to accept. They were wrong, but they had the obligation to discover their mistake. Let them go ahead, they'd find that none of the charges were true and I'd be vindicated. What was all this obsession with enemies anyway? I looked into their smoke-washed faces; not since the beginning had I faced such serious doubts. Up to now I had felt a wholeness about my work and direction such as I'd never known; not even in my mistaken college days. Brotherhood was something to which men could give themselves completely; that was its strength and my strength, and it was this sense of wholeness that guaranteed that it would change the course of history. This I had believed with all my being, but now, though still inwardly affirming that belief, I felt a blighting hurt which prevented me from trying further to defend myself. I stood there silently, waiting their decision. Someone drummed his fingers against the table top. I heard the dry-leaf rustle of onionskin papers.
"Be assured that you can depend upon the fairness and wisdom of the committee," Brother Tobitt's voice drifted from the end of the table, but there was smoke between us and I could barely see his face.
"The committee has decided," Brother Jack began crisply, "that until all charges have been cleared, you are to have the choice of becoming inactive in Harlem, or accepting an assignment downtown. In the latter case you are to wind up your present assignment immediately."