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Lost Man's River(242)



“No, but he’s changed some. Might not do nothin such as that today.” Whidden cast again, hard, with a light whipping sound. “I ain’t goin to criticize Speck Daniels, Mister Colonel. I knowed all about that Marco business when I went to work for him, and it never kept me from feelin proud about my job with the number one moonshiner and gator poacher in South Florida. I never thought too much about the right and wrong of it. Never thought much at all, and that’s the truth, not till Sally come along and woke me up.” He considered Lucius with a rueful gaze.

“But why does Sally—”

“The Hardens are her family now cause she ain’t got one of her own, so she’s bein fierce, she tries to take on all the pain our family suffered. She can’t make these people say they’re sorry, or apologize, though she’s sure try in—you seen her in Naples!

“In her heart, Sally wants me to be white, wants our kids to be white, not only because that is right but because our kids will have a better chance that way. But she is ashamed of wanting that so bad, cause it makes her feel disloyal some way to those old-time Hardens that were so discriminated. That’s why she’s so ready to scrap with folks like Andy who might still think that the Hardens were … mixed.

“What I’m learning is—real slow but deep—it just don’t matter. It don’t matter! There’s a lot of families on this coast got a little color that they ain’t owned up to. Well, that ain’t nothin to be ashamed of! It comes from the wild nature of our Florida history. You take them Muskogee and Mikasuki Creeks, some were mixed-blood when they first come down here out of Georgia, and the early pioneers had children with ’em, and with runaway slaves, too. In thees meex blood ees foking gee-nee-us of America! That’s what old Chevelier used to holler at my granddad. Claimed there weren’t one white man on this earth who didn’t have some black or brown in him, because all mankind got started out in Africa!

“You got a million drops of white, one drop of black, and you’re supposed to be a nigra, accordin to that old redneck arithmetic. Well, in a century, that one drop can travel a long ways, and these local families are so much intermarried that whatever is true of one is true for all. That one little drop is just a-spreadin all the time, but it stays hid, like a molasses drop in milk. Most of the time you never notice, and then you might get a glimpse of it, one little trace, or one person that’s too dark in a fair-haired family, or might be bad hair. Most likely that family never knew that it was there, so they don’t even recognize it when they see it. Depends how strong your family is in your community. If you are strong enough, it just don’t count. Nobody sees it.

“Our pastor and his wife was narrow-minded. They would not accept a boy from Marco that their daughter wanted because he weren’t raised up Pentecostal Church of God. Weren’t one thing wrong with that young devil that a bullet wouldn’t cure, it was only he was runnin kind of wild. So that girl done what Abbie Harden done, she run off with a young black feller, to spite ’em. And now them poor worshipful folks got to smile until it hurts, cause that black son-in-law is just as God-lovin as they are, and not only that but a decorated American hero, a veteran of the United States Marines!” Whidden laughed quietly. “If that preacher had a second chance, he’d take and hogtie that wild Marco heathen to his daughter, never mind if they took their vows in jail. But bein a good Christian, he must stand up and be proud that she married this patriotic soldier boy from the black community, this fine upstandin young American that risked his life for freedom and democracy. They got to be happy about that boy—ain’t that a terrible thing? They got to be happy! Whether they like bein happy or they don’t!”

But in a moment, his jaw set again. “Yep,” he said. “Miss Sally Brown is still burnt up over the old days, and she’s over there at the Historical Society every year, fighting her heart out for our family name. And everyone wishes—Hardens especially—that that pretty little gal would just shut up, because all she is doing is stirring up old gossip.

“Today Hardens are doin fine all over southwest Florida, ranch homes and new pickups and fair-haired kiddies everywhere you look. They have left most of them old Baptists who looked down on ’em back in the dust. These new Hardens have forgot all that old bitterness, if they even knew about it. Wouldn’t of never doubted they was white people if that darned female Cousin Whidden married didn’t stir up so much sand tryin to prove it.”