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Excerpt from Refiner’s Fine

There was a long silence as I gazed out over the water at the little islands that were the tops of hills on our land before the lake waters covered it.

Wilmer turned to me and said, “You ready to go back now?”

      “No. I got somethin’ to say—somethin’ you two boys need to know, and it ain’t about peaches, exactly. See that other little island way over yonder?” I said, pointing to a larger island, about a quarter of a mile east.

      “Yeah,” both boys said together.

      “That’s what I wanted to show you. That’s where the Cowpers’ place used to be. I never told anybody this, but when I was a little girl, I heard that somethin’ was gonna happen there. So me and your Aunt Margaret and Uncle Grady snuck out of the house late the night it was gonna happen, and we walked all the way over there. We just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

      I turned and faced the boys. “By the time we arrived, there was already a big crowd, and a huge fire was burning like you’ve never seen before. We’d all heard that the Cowpers men were in the Klan, so we tried to steer clear of them. But there we were, standing on their land in the middle of a chilly night, watchin’ a bunch of men in their white robes, all gatherin’ around the fire. That was bad enough, but what happened next is something I won’t ever forget. Two men dragged a poor Colored boy out of the barn and across the yard. Then they chained him to a tree near the fire; his belly was right up against the bark. We couldn’t tell who he was—don’t matter now.

      The boys didn’t try to interrupt or say anything. They just stood there, letting me talk. “I saw the first blow to that boy’s back and heard him scream. I can still hear that awful screamin’—long, loud, and full of pain. He kept yellin’, ‘I didn’t do it! I didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Please believe me!’ but they were deaf to him. They kept on whippin’ that poor boy till he slap went limp. His screamin’ just got weaker and weaker. Grady, he kept watchin’ a few more seconds, then told us he couldn’t take it anymore, and we should go home. And we did. But like Lot’s wife, I turned and looked back. Now, I’m tellin’ y’all this for a reason, so listen to me now. First thing I saw was that big ole cross burnin’, big and tall. It sent a terrible chill all up and down my spine. I’d heard tell of such, but I’d never seen one before. I couldn’t help it; I couldn’t take my eyes of that burnin’ cross. I knew better, but then I looked back over at that tree where they’d chained up that poor Colored boy. He was all slumped over. Two men came over and started whippin’ him again. They kept whippin’ him and beatin’ him. When they finally stopped, I could hear them laughin’ and hootin’ and hollerin’.”

      I had to take in a long, slow breath, then let it out gradually before continuing. “Then I looked back at the boy. I could see he was still movin’—boys, he was still alive. Can you imagine the pain he was in? And those awful men, dancin’ around and carryin’ on while that poor boy lay there dyin’. They just threw that poor boy’s life away like he was trash, which I do believe they thought he was. He was just a cull to be thrown out. Why, none of those men woulda treated their animals that bad.”

      I went silent for a few moments.