thomas havens
How came you to reside in our pit, sir?
elson farwell
I was in town. On an errand. I experienced a pain in my chest, and— thomas havens
Did they not seek you?
elson farwell
They sought me mightily!
They seek me still, I am sure.
My wife leading the effort, Mr. and Mrs. Conner showing their full support.
It is just—they have not found me yet.
thomas havens
This fellow was crisply shoved aside by a young mulatto woman in a white smock and a blue-trimmed lace bonnet, trembling wildly, of such startling beauty that a low murmur arose among the white supplicants.
roger bevins iii
Go ahead, Litzie. It’s now or f—–ing never.
betsy baron
litzie wright
Silent.
eddie baron
As always.
betsy baron
What the f—– musta been done to her? To shut her up so tight?
eddie baron
Stepping up beside the mulatto came a stout Negro woman of some years, by all appearances a large, outwardly jolly presence in that previous place, who was not jolly at all now, but livid, and scowling; and her feet, worn to nubs, left two trails of blood behind her, and as she placed her hands (also worked to nubs) on the mulatto’s hips, in support, she left bloody prints in two places there on the pale smock, as the mulatto continued to thrum and shake.
the reverend everly thomas
litzie wright
What was done to her was done to her many times, by many. What was done to her could not be resisted, was not resisted, sometimes was resisted, which resulted, sometimes, in her being sent away to some far worse place, other times in that resistance simply being forcibly overcome (by fist, knee, board-strike, etc.). What was done to her was done and done. Or just done once. What was done to her affected her not at all, affected her very much, drove her to the nervous shakes, drove her to hateful speech, drove her to leap off the Cedar Creek Bridge, drove her to this obstinate silence. What was done to her was done by big men, small men, boss men, men who happened to be passing the field in which she worked, the teen sons of the boss man or of the men who happened to be passing, a trio of men on a bender who spilled out of the house and, just before departing, saw her there chopping wood. What was done to her was done on a regular schedule, like some sort of sinister church-going; was done to her at random times; was never done at all, never once, but only constantly threatened: looming and sanctioned; what was done to her was straightforward missionary fucking; what was done to her was anal fucking (when the poor dear had never even heard of such a thing); what was done to her were small sick things (to the accompaniment of harsh words from stunted country men who would never have dreamed of doing such things to a woman of their own race), done to her as if no one else were there, only him, the man doing it, she nothing more than a (warm, silent) wax figure; what was done to her was: whatever anyone wished to do, and even if someone wished only slightly to do something to her, well, one could do it, it could be done, one did it, it was done, it was done and done and— mrs. francis hodge
Lieutenant Stone (shouting, “Back, SHARDS, get ye back!”) double-timed up at the head of a group of burly white men (Petit, Daly, and Burns among them), who brusquely cleared the black supplicants away from the white stone home, pushing at them with fallen tree-limbs held horizontally at chest-height.
roger bevins iii
Cries of outrage sounded forth from the black contingent.
hans vollman
Ah, said Mr. Havens. Here, as there?
mrs. francis hodge
Not so f——ing rough!
eddie baron
We know them. They’re all right!
betsy baron
Petit, Burns, and Daly, broad red faces distorted with rage, stepped menacingly toward the Barons, causing that couple to recede meekly into the crowd.
hans vollman
Upon a signal from Lieutenant Stone, the patrol now drove forward, pinning the black contingent against the dreaded iron fence.
the reverend everly thomas
(Which was not particularly dreadful to them.
As it only exerted its noxious effects on those of us who resided within its limits.) hans vollman
Hence a standoff resulted: Lieutenant Stone and patrol, from nausea, could not advance close enough to drive the black contingent over the fence, and those individuals, having reached the limit of their willingness to submit to such depredations, continued to hold their position on this side.
the reverend everly thomas
Meanwhile, dozens of (white) supplicants rushed opportunistically into the space thus cleared before the white stone home, bellowing their stories into the doorway, until it was impossible to discern any individual voice amid the desperate chorus.
hans vollman
LXVII.
Mr. Lincoln heard none of this, of course.
To him it was just a silent crypt in the dead of night.
the reverend everly thomas Now came the critical moment.