Alligator Bayou - Donna Jo Napoli [73]
“Huri?”
“It means ‘wind.’ It is the name of this boat.”
“How long will it take me?”
“In high water I used to do it in five days. But now is the middle of summer. The water is slow. I will push Huri into the water. You get in. Move soft, but quick. The current will wash you away.” He pushes the boat through the undergrowth.
I can’t do this. “Wait. Wait. How will I return Huri to you?”
“You will not.”
“But how will you go where you want?”
“I do not travel the titik anymore.”
“You go over to Vicksburg.”
“Buck Collins can take me.”
He has all the answers.
I can’t stall any longer. Men could come looking—any moment. “Joseph, how can I repay you?”
“By letting me help you.”
“Thank you, Joseph.” I don’t want to get in the boat, I don’t want to leave Joseph.
We look at each other.
Huri is in the water. And now I am in Huri. Joseph pulls, then steps to the side and lets go. The current takes me. I wave goodbye.
Then I face forward. The banks slip by.
My cousin and uncles are gone.
But Rocco waits for me. We’re family.
I hear Patricia in my head: “Every human being got his race to run.”
I’m running. But I’ll be back. Someday.
I will be back.
AFTERWORD
Several years ago I came across an old and brief newspaper article about five Sicilian grocers in Tallulah, Louisiana, in 1899, who served a black customer before a white one because he had entered the store first; they wound up dead—lynched. I was shocked. Bigotry pings the brain into numbness, it seems so inexplicable. But as I dug into the history around the lynching, I found answers that went far beyond bigotry. And numbness gave way to such a searing pain that I had to write this story.
I built characters for this book around people who testified or were talked about in the testaments taken after the Tallulah lynching, including: Will Rogers, Dr. J. Ford Hodge, Frank Raymond (eighteen-year-old itinerant artist from Iowa who spoke eloquently on behalf of the Sicilians at the inquiries, explaining the economic and voting issues that made the lynchers come after the Sicilians), Sheriff Lucas, John Wilson (lyncher—I merged him with an unnamed saloon keeper who offered free drinks to anyone who would help in the lynching), Father May (itinerant French priest from Lake Providence who spoke against the lynchers at the inquiries), Joe Evans (Francesco’s employee, who spoke on behalf of the Sicilians at the inquiries), Paul and Bill Bruse (employees who also spoke on their behalf at the inquiries), Anden Severe (citizen who furnished the rope), Mr. Coleman (citizen who climbed a tree and tied the rope that hanged Cirone, Rosario, and Francesco), Mr. Blander (barber who witnessed the lynching and spoke against the lynchers at the inquiries).
In building characters, I also used American slave narratives, narratives by Tunica people recorded by Mary Haas, and diaries and fiction written by people from that part of Louisiana in that period. My attention was as much on language and culture as on history. I added a sixth Sicilian, Calogero, and allowed myself to fill in the world beyond the facts I uncovered. Indeed, in the materials I found, there was disagreement over fundamental facts, including the names of the people lynched and their ages. But everyone agrees that Dr. Hodge was shot and that he recovered completely.
The materials I consulted agree that Giuseppe Difatta (age thirty-six, Italian citizen) and Carlo Difatta (age fifty-four) were both hanged in the slaughterhouse on July 20, 1899. Francesco Difatta (age thirty), Rosario Fiducia (age thirty-seven), and a third person whose name might have been Cerami or Cirone Fiducia or Giovanni Cirano or Cerano (and whose age might have been twenty-three or thirteen, Italian citizen) were dragged from the jailhouse and hanged from a cottonwood tree outside the courthouse later the same night. All the bodies were so riddled with bullets that they were disfigured almost beyond recognition.
There were two more Italians living in Milliken’s Bend, Giuseppe Defina and his son Salvatore. Buck Collins helped them escape