BooksBarbecue
Back When the Reckoning Comes
Chapters (44)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. They are coming.
  5. I.
  6. II.
  7. III.
  8. Once, they stole away.
  9. IV.
  10. V.
  11. VI.
  12. VII.
  13. VIII.
  14. IX.
  15. X.
  16. XI.
  17. XII.
  18. Those who stayed behind found their own ways to resist.
  19. XIII.
  20. XIV.
  21. They remembered the feeling of their beloveds sold,
  22. XV.
  23. XVI.
  24. XVII.
  25. XVIII.
  26. XIX.
  27. XX.
  28. It took the babies drowning for the rest to say, Enough.
  29. XXI.
  30. XXII.
  31. XXIII.
  32. Tools meant for work became seen as weapons.
  33. XXIV.
  34. XXV.
  35. XXVI.
  36. XXVII.
  37. XXVIII.
  38. When they were caught, punishment was swift and severe in its execution.
  39. XXIX.
  40. Soon it would be morning, and those left behind would prepare for another day.
  41. Acknowledgments
  42. About the Author
  43. Also by LaTanya McQueen
  44. About the Publisher

“In the tobacco fields. She was in the fields. I’ve just come from there. God, it’s terrible. I hadn’t meant to go out there, but I heard singing. Some sort of chant. It felt like it was leading me to her, and then I saw—”

“My daughter’s dead!” Mr. Tatum yelled, interrupting. “We need to get him. He killed her.”

Phillip quickly told her the story. It had started as a walk to clear his head and he’d made a wrong turn, ending up near the edge of the tobacco fields. That’s when he heard the song. It didn’t take him long before he got lost. The longer he was out there, the more frantic he became about not getting out, and soon instead of walking he was running. He ran and ran, going in circles, with the tobacco leaves cutting his face as he whipped through them, hoping that all he had to do was go a few more feet and he’d be out. He ran and, not noticing the ground below, tripped and fell into the dirt, hitting his head. It knocked him out. When he opened his eyes again, he sat up, wiped the sweat stinging his eyes, and stumbled up. He started to get up but noticed a shoe in front of him. A bedroom slipper the color of cream. He picked it up and rubbed his fingers over the fabric, and then walked a few steps in the direction he thought he’d come from. He took a couple more steps and then saw her—her body facedown in the dirt, negligee torn up to the hips, eyes closed. “Celine?” he called, crawling over to her. He got closer but the smell caught him off guard, forcing him to turn away.

“I shouldn’t have,” Phillip said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have seen her exposed like that.” With this, Phillip’s body collapsed. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. He stared at the patch of grass in front of him as his eyes watered.

Celine was dead. Mira could barely stand. She wanted to sit but the men crowded around her forced her to stand. These men surrounded her, screaming for justice, working themselves into a frenzy over the desire for it, and Mira stared at their froth and spittle, at their flustered faces burning in anger, and feared what their vengeance might do.