The Gallant South- Part One

Chapter XV- November 19-Dec 2, 1912

        Bettirose was right. Cora could see flames rising up from over the top of the crowds. The black man was hanging from a large oak tree, and the boys from earlier were lighting a fire underneath it. When Cora stood up on a bench and observed the crowd, she saw no looks of guilt, remorse, or shock on the faces of any of the crowd, which had amassed to about 300 people. Not a single one of them looked like they were doing something despicable. Cora soon spotted a photographer with a camera taking photos of the scene. He was right up near the black man, and the boys around him were grinning and posing. Cora jumped down and tried not to look so upset, lest anyone recognize her.
        "It's like a sport," Bettirose commented. "A terrible, terrible sport."
        "Is that what it's seen as?" Cora asked, horrified. Bettirose nodded. "Ain't a bad thing. Just entertainment. You should see, sometimes people bring food and souvenirs and things. It's downright awful."
        Another round of cheering went up from the crowd, and Bettirose and Cora looked up to see the black man hanging from the tree, the fire lapping at his ankles. Some of the boys were throwing rocks and stones at him, and others were laughing. If the black man was making any noise at all, it couldn't be heard over the jeering and shouting and swearing of the crowd.
        "Pardon me, ma'am," announced a voice. Cora turned around to see a young reporter. "Could you tell me what's happening?"
        "Why, there's a barbecue going on. Can't you tell?" Cora asked, forcing the words out of her mouth.
        "What's the negro done?" the reporter asked. Cora pretended not to care. "I think he attacked a woman. You'd have to ask the police," she said nonchalantly. The reporter nodded and continued on to a group of men.
        Cora turned back around to see that the black man was missing both of his arms, and the fire had nearly consumed him. Never in her life had she seen such a grisly thing, and she almost vomited on the spot. Before Estelle, the only violence she'd ever seen was the comical violence in the serials and slapsticks she'd gone to see at the movie houses. And even then, those were nothing, nothing like this. And this was normal here. Cora was horrified. No. Horrified was an understatement.
        As Cora watched, one of the boys jumped up and sliced the rope with a pocketknife. The man's body fell down into the fire with a burst of ash. Now, Cora could only see the tip of the fire from over the top of the crowd, which had slowly amassed more and more people. Occasionally, there was the flash of a camera taking photographs of the scene. Cora suddenly had a feeling as to what kind of postcards would be sold in the shops the following day. Cora started thinking of racist jokes that included the word barbecue.

        When the crowd began to thin, Nielsen showed up with a couple of officers to collect the charred remains of the man. Cora wanted a closer look at the scene, but when she pushed her way through the crowds, what she saw were a few of the boys holding up the dead man's arms like trophies. Cora turned and retched, putting a hand on Bettirose's shoulder for support.
        "They've sold teeth and fingers in the past," Bettirose commented.
        "Jesus Christ, you're not helping!" Cora exclaimed, trying to hold in her breakfast. She didn't vomit, but the sight was forever ingrained into her mind. She'd see it in her dreams, and she was glad that neither of Kit's offices were near.
        "Come on. We've got to go now," Bettirose said, taking Cora's hand and walking back to the motorcycle. They walked in silence, each growing angrier by the second. It was around noon, so the two of them decided to have lunch together, as if a horrible thing hadn't just happened.

        When Cora arrived home in time for dinner, having spent a day throwing dumbbells around the Society gym to let out her anger, the sky was dark and the mood in the dining room was jolly. Cora hated to be the bearer of bad news, and so she sat down for dinner as if nothing had happened. She was a better actor than she thought, because no one suspected a thing.
        That night, Cora took sleeping medicine just to be safe, and a lot of it too. She went to bed with a plan for what she was going to do the following morning. She doubted if she could, because Colby's estate was likely to be guarded, and she knew she'd have to go early, but nevertheless, she was going to go. Her chat with Colby Whitbaker was long overdue