T. Johnson - Welcome to Braggsville

But the captain guy was like, What in hell’s tarnation is this get-up here ’bout? And I’m like, It’s 1865, right, dude, wassup? For a moment, I felt like we’d already won, like we were having a dialogue. That’s all we wanted. Discourse. It was all going so well, or seemed to be then. I was thinking about how jealous Daron and Charlie would be to miss it all. The captain was so mad, I could tell he knew what we were doing, and we were doing just the one thing he hoped no one would ever do, the one thing that each and every fucking — excuse me — damn year they probably hoped no one would do. But, having a Civil War reenactment without slaves is like setting a love story during a bubonic plague outbreak and never having anyone get sick. Gabriel García Márquez never wrote a novel called Love in the Time of Cold and Flu Season .

The captain was a short guy, stocky, with a beard so thick I thought it was part of his costume until I saw him here later in uniform. He asks what the heck we’re doing and asks about a permit. I was like, We don’t need a permit in 1865. The men had grouped behind him until they had us surrounded. And one of them yelled, He ain’t even black.

That’s when they all started laughing, even the captain, kind of, and one of them stepped up and took the whip from my hand. I tried to snatch it back, but he was like, If it’s 1865 then a woman got no rights. You could see he was proud to have thought of that.

Miss, I thought you were some distance away?

I was. I think I was. [pause] I’m not sure. There was so much confusion. It felt like they were far away but they were close enough to take the whip from my hand. But before that, when they were just coming over the hill, and were far away, they felt close. [sigh] [PAUSE] After they realized he wasn’t black, they relaxed a little, and the whole thing seemed funny. They were laughing, the captain was laughing, Louis was kicking so I thought he was laughing, and I was laughing, too. It was like a moment in a film where everyone finally connects, and I thought it was okay, our work had been accomplished and we’d been successful. We were having discourse. Then the other one started whipping Louis. I just remember he had a cross tattooed on his hand. By the thumb and index finger. Next they were grabbing Louis’s feet to lift him up, but he just sort of flopped to the side and I turned away. Someone said something about cutting him down and then I heard a terrible thud. I knew they’d dropped him… Someone threw up, I could smell it. There were big waffle chunks on the ground. I thought, Oh. Someone else went to Waffle House, too. Maybe they were there when we were. [pause] I didn’t connect it to Louis at the time.

You’re saying that these men helped you? They cut him down, which you couldn’t have managed on your own. Looks to me like they helped you.

Yes. I suppose so.

And that could mean the man with the tattoo as well, couldn’t it?

He had the whip.

How many of them were there?

All of them. It was all of them.

But you said you turned away. So there’s a chance you might not be one hundred percent sure this guy might not have helped when you was turned away?

I guess he could have been.

Maybe the whip didn’t even connect. He could have been cracking it just for y’allses show.

My show?

My show, Sir?

My show, Sheriff?

Yes. Your show. Just a few more questions, young miss. When did you dial 911? At Donner field with the deceased? Or after?

I didn’t.

I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.

I didn’t.

What happened at the end there, young miss?

I got scared. [Pause] I ran. When they cut him down, and were wrestling with him, I called for him to come on. I heard something going on and thought [long pause] I thought they were arresting him, maybe. I wanted to get to the Davenports’, so we could go bail him out.

You didn’t call 911 and report a rape?

No. [pause] Daron was mistaken.

You didn’t tell him you were raped.

No.

Did you suggest it?

No.

Did you imply it?

No.

Did one of your… ah… friends take advantage of the confusion?

[long pause]

Miss, I can help you, but only if you tell me the truth.

I wasn’t raped. That’s the truth.

Why’d Daron think it?

I don’t know.

And after you tied your friend’s hands behind his back, and after you hoisted him up in the tree with your homemade noose Charlie-rigged around his neck, these men in uniform helped cut him down?

Yes. I suppose it appears that way.

Chicago, why’d you report a rape?

I didn’t, Sir.

D, why’d you report a rape?

She looked like she’d been in a dogfight. Her clothes were all torn up, with her private wear sticking through. She was panicked.

[Long pause]

Tell me again whose idea was it?

I don’t know.

I don’t remember, Sir.

I should have never mentioned the reenactment. But all I did was mention it. I was only showing spirit.

Young miss, do you know what a spade is?

Of course.

Would you have done this in your hometown?

No.

No, Sir.

[pause] I get it, Sheriff. Cast iron’s cracklin’, Sheriff.

You done anything like this before?

No, sir.

No, Sir.

No way, Sheriff. No way. You’d know.

Mr. Chicago, what do you know about knots?

Nothing, Sir.

How did you decide what rope and pulley to use?

I never saw the rope or pulley, Sir.

And the noose?

Never saw it, Sir. I never handled any of it, Sir.

Not once?

No, Sir. I never saw the rope or harness until the morgue, Sir.

D, we contacted the Changs. They’re on the way. Do we need to contact Mrs. Judith Butler?

No, Sheriff.

D, do you know this Mrs. Judith Butler?

Not personally, Sheriff.

GO AHEAD, MR. CHANG.

When we arrived, I knew Daron wouldn’t be able to do it. I wasn’t mad at him. I understood and I saw it before he did. Charlie and Candice couldn’t see it, but I could. It was his father, the way he was, the way he looked at us. Not mean, not even wary, but measured, the way my elder uncle is. I imagined telling my elder uncle we were going to reenact building the railroad or the burning of Chinatown. Truth was, at that point I would have been disappointed if Daron had showed up because it seemed more important to honor his father’s wishes than to needle a bunch of pinheaded white dudes with no fashion sense. Besides, there was always the chance they would like it, and where would that leave us? Oppression porn.

I got up early and asked Daron to show me the knots, just in case, I said. He was outside with Charlie. I knew what was happening. I couldn’t blame Charlie. If I were black, I wouldn’t swing any more than I’d dress like a ten-year-old Chinese virgin at a reenactment of Nanking. At sunup, I put on the blackface. I mentioned it to Charlie once. He didn’t like it. Candice liked it even less, and was reluctant to help me put it on. It smelled oily and was cold on your skin. For the first few minutes it keeps feeling like a cool wind is blowing on your face.

The wig? Mine was part of last year’s Disco Ronald McDonald Reagan Halloween costume. I liked Daron’s more. I put on the harness and then a torn shirt over it. We flung the noose over the highest branch and looped it around my neck. The noose rope was pretty thick. The harness was ballistic nylon and we used a cable for that. The cable was thin enough to hide behind the rope, and we threw the cable and a pulley over the lowest branch. She hoisted me up with the pulley, and at the same time, pulled on the rope, so it looked like I was being lifted by the neck.

I always wanted to be taller. It was a beautiful view. From about four feet higher than usual, I could see across the valley to where the Union soldiers were camped and I could see the center of town, which the Confederacy hoped to defend and make the new capital. I read that somewhere. I knew when they were coming. That many people you hear before you see. They came over the ridge with the sun striking those canteens and tin cups, making them glow like scales, like it was a massive, slithering creature. You’re never completely prepared for that. Candice was frantic. I felt kinda bad for her. And for a moment, I was scared.