Buffalo Blacque

This is a work of fiction. Names. Characters. Places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2019 by James M. Russell

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Cover photo of bison by: James Ownby

Cover design by: Dumbluck

ISBN: 978-0-9738002-0-3

THANKS TO:

Dominic Farrell – story editor extraordinaire, who edited my manuscript with impressive skill and thoroughness. Please note that I didn't ask him to look for grammar, or typo, or punctuation errors so don't blame him for any that you may come across.

Bob and Enid Plumb, of the Inn at the Ranch in Smoky Lake, Alberta, for their hospitality when I was researching my novel. "Yes ma'am, I'll try to remember – they're bison, not buffalo!"

Second Cup Coffee Shop  owner Andrew and his staff, especially Emily and Sasha who allowed me to camp out at their coffee shop for hours a day, days a month and months a year, as I wrote Buffalo Blacque.

Ms. Conny Glenn of Work Wellness, Mr. Ken Jones Jr. of the Niagara Falls Railway Museum, and Mr. Ron Morrisseau for their generous advice.

My mother and father who, although dead many years, helped me in countless ways to write this novel.

And lastly, but most importantly, thanks to you for reading my novel. I hope you find that Buffalo Blacque is a great story, well told.

This book is dedicated to Marcus Garvey and the women, men, and children of the Universal Negro Improvement Association.

Thank you Mr. Garvey for showing the way.

INTRODUCTION

In telling Lucius's tale I have incorporated a fair amount of detail, which may lead you to wonder whether Buffalo Blacque is 100% factually correct. It's not. I'm telling you this to spare you the arduous task of subjecting every sentence of my novel to the intense gaze of historical accuracy. Oh sure, in creating the world that envelops my fictional characters, I have tried to be realistic but chances are that I got a name, or a date, or a description of the façade of a long-destroyed building, utterly wrong.

Having cleared that up, I hope you can now relax, sit back and enjoy Lucius's story -- I certainly enjoyed writing it.

Harlem, New York – Sunday, July 10, 1921

"Darn it!"

It was Lucius's third try at buttoning his left shoulder epaulet but the hole was just too darn small.

"You're going to make me late!" Lucius whispered to the button.

Lucius Alphonse Henry and the other men of the Liberian Brigade were dressing in the cramped basement of the New Testament Church of the Shining Lord. The brigade, which started off with seven men last year, had grown to thirty-five, with more signing up every time their leader, Marcus Garvey, made a speech.

Garvey's speeches gave his people hope for the future.

Lucius renewed his efforts to button his uniform the moment he recognized the lyrical opening refrain of the Emperor's Waltzfloat in through the church's open door. Lucius knew that the ladies of the Black Cross Nurses Brigade would have already taken up their positions on the street by now. Once the front row of their group began marching, Lucius's brigade was scheduled to step off exactly thirty-five seconds later. Glancing around the basement, Lucius saw that all but a few of his brigade were already dressed.