Chapter 21 Alex and Hineston
The beginning of Chapter 21
Joe had a funny feeling about trouble when he stepped off the Caddo that day. Alexandria, a city of about seven hundred citizens, sure didn’t look like trouble, but he still had an uneasy feeling.
Calling Alexandria a “city” was probably an exaggeration. It was more like a town or a village. This small-town quality was brought out by the fact that not much went on in ‘Alex’ as it was called, without being noted.
Even the arrival of a young, poor Irish immigrant did not go unnoticed. Joseph Moore had no idea he was walking into a situation where great prejudice combined with fear would change his plans.
As he carefully descended the levee, he cheerfully spoke to several workers at street level. They stared at him and turned aside.
Before he’d gone a hundred steps, a deputy approached him. The uniformed officer, followed by two other civilians, blocked his path. Joseph stopped in the middle of the street waiting for whatever greeting or warning that awaited him. He could easily tell from the set of the deputy’s jaw that it was more likely to be the latter of the two.
“Where you headed, boy?”
Joseph had quickly learned in the South that being called “boy” in that manner was not a compliment.
“Sir, I’ve just arrived by the steamboat and I’m kinda hunting for a place to stay.”
“Where you from?”
Trying to break the ice, Joseph smiled, “Well I’m sure you can tell from my accent I’m not from around here.”
His attempt at humor brought only a cold stare from the officer. The other two men, each armed, eased menacingly closer. Joseph waited for another question, but quickly realized it wasn’t coming.
Calling Alexandria a “city” was probably an exaggeration. It was more like a town or a village. This small-town quality was brought out by the fact that not much went on in ‘Alex’ as it was called, without being noted.
Even the arrival of a young, poor Irish immigrant did not go unnoticed. Joseph Moore had no idea he was walking into a situation where great prejudice combined with fear would change his plans.
As he carefully descended the levee, he cheerfully spoke to several workers at street level. They stared at him and turned aside.
Before he’d gone a hundred steps, a deputy approached him. The uniformed officer, followed by two other civilians, blocked his path. Joseph stopped in the middle of the street waiting for whatever greeting or warning that awaited him. He could easily tell from the set of the deputy’s jaw that it was more likely to be the latter of the two.
“Where you headed, boy?”
Joseph had quickly learned in the South that being called “boy” in that manner was not a compliment.
“Sir, I’ve just arrived by the steamboat and I’m kinda hunting for a place to stay.”
“Where you from?”
Trying to break the ice, Joseph smiled, “Well I’m sure you can tell from my accent I’m not from around here.”
His attempt at humor brought only a cold stare from the officer. The other two men, each armed, eased menacingly closer. Joseph waited for another question, but quickly realized it wasn’t coming.
The photograph shown features the present day Red River at Alexandria, Louisiana. This is near the spot where Joe Moore came ashore on his arrival.
Chapter 22 Crossing the Calcasieu
Joe Moore had his first encounter with the most beautiful of all birds, wood ducks.
Chapter 23 Miz Girlie
Chapter 23 Miz Girlie
Joe's encounter with a Louisiana dog (from Chapter 23)
Eliza called it her “song and light show.” The sound she loved was how the pines carried the wind. Their song in the wind was so different from the way oaks sounded in a strong wind. She had never been to the ocean, but the roaring of the wind in the pines was the way her mind imagined the ocean would sound.
The lightning continued getting closer. She’d always been warned to stay away from pines during a thunderstorm. Her mom called them “lightning magnets.” Eliza had seen ample evidence of what lightning did to a longleaf pine. It was common to see these tall pines featuring a long fresh scar down its entire trunk from a lightning strike. Soon the tree would drop its straw and die.
However her mom had warned her against being in the pines during a storm. Not before one—at least that is the way she interpreted the warnings. So as the wind picked up she told Eli, “We’ll need to get out from under the pines before the storm hits—but don’t that wind feel good right now.” As the wind blew, they stood joyfully stood under the pines taking in their song. Eliza spread her arms and felt the wind blowing her hair and blouse. To Eliza, it was not just a sound show—it was also a light show. The long leaf pines of the Ten Mile country seemed to be a prism.
Whatever the level of light was—whether the sunshine was brightly shining on a clear day, or the clouds sent rolling shimmering shafts of light that were further segregated by the pines, the pines gave this light show. Even on short winter afternoons when the low angle of the sun sent yellow shafts through the pine trunks, or dark rainy days when under the pines it seemed sinister, gloomy, and nearly scary. Eliza liked each mood of this light show under the pines.
Chapter 25 Father Willis
The grave of Reverend Joseph Willis, Occupy Cemetery, Hwy 113 Ten Mile, LA
Joe Moore was so focused on this close inspection that he never saw or heard the dog coming until it was too late.
He never figured out where it came from, so the dog achieved a total ambush. It was undoubtedly the fiercest looking dog he’d ever seen.
As it bounded at him in what seemed like slow motion, Joe stood frozen in shock. He would always remember the dog’s eyes as it made the last ten yards: they were a glassy, weird white that seemed to emit intense hate. The large dog drove its head into his chest. It didn’t bite him . . . at least not yet. It simply had bull-rushed him and knocked him down. He tumbled to the ground, trying to cover his neck and face, while feeling for his knife.
The dog stood over him with teeth bared, a loud guttural growl emitting from its curled lips. It probably weighed about fifty pounds, and every muscle was shaking with rage. He hurriedly tried to back away on his hands and knees, but the dog stayed over him letting him know it was in charge. Joe couldn’t find his knife, and no stick was near.
As the growling dog snarled in his face, he took a desperate look at his at his attacker: The dog was a dark-brownish blue with black spots on its side and back. It had a white-striped chest and its legs, shaking with rage as it growled in Joes’ face, were strong and white-sock footed.
But most of all, those eyes had Joe’s attention. The eyes looked like glass eyes, the kind you saw in mounted animals and they gave the dog an evil look.
The dog, still emitting a low growl in its chest, finally backed off a step or two, allowing Joe to get to his feet.
It was then he heard the shrill whistle. It was repeated again and a harsh female voice boomed out, “Jezebel—you come here! What you done caught there?” The growling dog still held its ground, but was evidently distracted by the woman’s voice. The voice repeated louder, “Jezebel. Come here right now!”
Suddenly, the dog turned and trotted obediently toward the porch. This allowed Joe the opportunity to turn and observe his rescuer.
He never figured out where it came from, so the dog achieved a total ambush. It was undoubtedly the fiercest looking dog he’d ever seen.
As it bounded at him in what seemed like slow motion, Joe stood frozen in shock. He would always remember the dog’s eyes as it made the last ten yards: they were a glassy, weird white that seemed to emit intense hate. The large dog drove its head into his chest. It didn’t bite him . . . at least not yet. It simply had bull-rushed him and knocked him down. He tumbled to the ground, trying to cover his neck and face, while feeling for his knife.
The dog stood over him with teeth bared, a loud guttural growl emitting from its curled lips. It probably weighed about fifty pounds, and every muscle was shaking with rage. He hurriedly tried to back away on his hands and knees, but the dog stayed over him letting him know it was in charge. Joe couldn’t find his knife, and no stick was near.
As the growling dog snarled in his face, he took a desperate look at his at his attacker: The dog was a dark-brownish blue with black spots on its side and back. It had a white-striped chest and its legs, shaking with rage as it growled in Joes’ face, were strong and white-sock footed.
But most of all, those eyes had Joe’s attention. The eyes looked like glass eyes, the kind you saw in mounted animals and they gave the dog an evil look.
The dog, still emitting a low growl in its chest, finally backed off a step or two, allowing Joe to get to his feet.
It was then he heard the shrill whistle. It was repeated again and a harsh female voice boomed out, “Jezebel—you come here! What you done caught there?” The growling dog still held its ground, but was evidently distracted by the woman’s voice. The voice repeated louder, “Jezebel. Come here right now!”
Suddenly, the dog turned and trotted obediently toward the porch. This allowed Joe the opportunity to turn and observe his rescuer.
Chapter 24 The Lightning Storm
An excerpt from Chapter 24
An excerpt from Chapter 24
Eliza called it her “song and light show.” The sound she loved was how the pines carried the wind. Their song in the wind was so different from the way oaks sounded in a strong wind. She had never been to the ocean, but the roaring of the wind in the pines was the way her mind imagined the ocean would sound.
The lightning continued getting closer. She’d always been warned to stay away from pines during a thunderstorm. Her mom called them “lightning magnets.” Eliza had seen ample evidence of what lightning did to a longleaf pine. It was common to see these tall pines featuring a long fresh scar down its entire trunk from a lightning strike. Soon the tree would drop its straw and die.
However her mom had warned her against being in the pines during a storm. Not before one—at least that is the way she interpreted the warnings. So as the wind picked up she told Eli, “We’ll need to get out from under the pines before the storm hits—but don’t that wind feel good right now.” As the wind blew, they stood joyfully stood under the pines taking in their song. Eliza spread her arms and felt the wind blowing her hair and blouse. To Eliza, it was not just a sound show—it was also a light show. The long leaf pines of the Ten Mile country seemed to be a prism.
Whatever the level of light was—whether the sunshine was brightly shining on a clear day, or the clouds sent rolling shimmering shafts of light that were further segregated by the pines, the pines gave this light show. Even on short winter afternoons when the low angle of the sun sent yellow shafts through the pine trunks, or dark rainy days when under the pines it seemed sinister, gloomy, and nearly scary. Eliza liked each mood of this light show under the pines.
Chapter 25 Father Willis
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