Alligator and Other Stories

by Dima Alzayat

  38 Q. Thank you, Chief, could you now please tell the Court what took place on the morning of May 16, 1929?

  39 A. Well, we got a call from her husband –

  40 Q. George Romey?

  41 A. Yes, Romey. We got a call from him at the station and we went out there again to set things straight.

  42 Q. What did Romey say when he called?

  43 A. I don’t know what story she might’ve cooked up for him about our visit. She should’ve been glad we’d let her go. Instead she was running her mouth and he was too stupid to shut her up. They were strange alright.

  44 Q. Can you please tell the Court what, specifically, Romey said on the phone?

  45 A. He was calling the law and threatening the law and that ain’t gonna sit right with no one here, Jim.

  46 Q. Were you the one to speak to him directly?

  47 A. No, Lt. Cox was, but what difference does that make? We did our best to reason with them but it’s them who decided they’d make things worse on themselves. They’d still be here breathing if they’d followed orders like everybody else.

  JOSEPH (1964)

  I don’t know where Lily is, I tell her, but she won’t listen. Lily, Lily, Lily, the two of them repeating. Please let me sleep. Lily? George on the edge of my bed weeps. I don’t know where she is. Moved away. Go find her like you did me. I kept her safe, all of them. I did what I could. They kept the boy for three days. Longest three of my life. Each day going in to try and get him, and them repeating it was for his own protection he was being kept. I worried they’d hurt him, let others take him like they did you. It took letters and a lawyer to get him released and when they let him go we packed ourselves and left that cursed place for good.

  Stop crying. Please God help me.

  No, no, I know I didn’t say your names. No talk of Zahle or Lebanon or any of it, I said to Mariam. Only Samuel seemed to remember, said one day he’d go. And I said No, you’ve got to get on. I said, they’d want you to get on. None of them ever laid eyes on that country. Say what you will but it’s for the best.

  I sent your mother money, George. I sent Nancy’s family photographs of the children, and locks of their hair. I did what I knew. I couldn’t go myself. No. I tried but God knows. Show your face, Joseph, I said. Go home and look George’s mother, his father, Nancy’s parents in the face. But I couldn’t. Bought a liner ticket and sold it at a loss. Never bought another.

  Forgive me.

  (cont.)

  Negro Prisoners Silent.

  Sheriff Douglas said a mob forced the lock and bars on Romey’s cell and took him away. Two Negroes who were in the jail at the time could give no information concerning the mob. Police said they were drunk and probably were unaware of the mob’s visit.

  STEVEN ‘BUBBA’ MORELLI (2003)

  Big fella. Heavy even with the three of us. Looks an awful lot like. No. The damn shot though, I should have heard. Can’t be.

  ‘Thanks for helping us carry him. Not too far to the truck now.’

  ‘Yeah, no problem.’ You’re welcome too. Won’t say thanks once, I bet. At least he’s got some sense. ‘Where ya’ll from anyway?’

  ‘Here. Where’re you from?’

  What’s with her? Damn attitude. Could drop and walk off. I should’ve heard the shot. ‘Birmingham. My family’s from near down here though, go way back.’ That smirk again. Maybe something wrong with her. Damn hand, don’t start now. Needs a rest. ‘I usually stay on the Georgia side when I come down, camp out in Okefenokee.’

  ‘How’s it there?’

  Funny way of speaking, he has. Not altogether normal either. Strange folk. ‘It’s not bad. Lots of gators. Gotta know what you’re doing.’ Is she laughing at me? Damn bitch. ‘Do you have a silencer for that rifle?’

  ‘What?’

  Don’t pretend you don’t hear. My damn buck, and I’m helping you carry.

  ‘Hey, the tarp!’

  On the ground dirt in the.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  Shit. Shit. ‘It’s my damn hand. Fuck. Sorry.’ Scrambling they are to get the dirt off, roll him back on. ‘Sorry. Let me.’

  ‘You’ve done enough. Please. We can handle it.’

  Him next to her, like what? What, is he gonna fight me? ‘You can wipe it off. It’s not that bad.’ Her face. His, worse. ‘Just trying to help.’

  ‘Well, no one really asked you to.’

  Damn face again. Damn bitch. Bitch hand. They want me to leave. I’ll just. ‘I didn’t even hear a shot go off.’ The buck nearly back on the tarp, let him go. ‘I was tracking a buck that size, got a good shot in and he woulda dropped right where I found you.’ Their face like I’m the one. They’re the ones, thieves. Strange fucking people, out here from God knows where. ‘But I’m gonna let you have it. I worked for it, all night tracking it and waiting for it, but you can just fucking have it.’

  Don’t look back. Keep walking, just go. Fuck it. Thieves.

  BLACK SEMINOLES (2019)

  Do you know how we escaped our deaths? At times killing men who call themselves masters to save ourselves. We came from Carolina and Georgia, other places where we were tallied in ledgers, our movements counted in accounts. Again and again we went south, when the border was not ocean, when the Spanish claimed that land. For them we became Catholic and learned their words. Later we spoke Yamasee and Creek, other tongues to make ourselves useful between men fighting for soil. We took new names and became leaders. Built villages where there were swamps. Drew agreements with the tribes. At times we betrayed them, captured them for whites who told us we were better, more civilized than those running wild. At times the tribes enslaved us, hunted and returned us to whites who paid for our bodies. We married their men and women. We made children whose children survive to your present. Alongside them we fought. We founded settlements, with the Indians defeated white generals, survived wars and slave raids, and we declared our emancipation and followed John Horse who led us across this country on a stallion he called America. Is this how you imagine us?

  CARINE (1991)

  Oh, she wasn’t afraid of nobody. She spoke her mind clear as day and you always knew where she stood. My father was the same. He was always questioning her decisions, asking if it weren’t better to place the fruit farther from the fish in the shop, or why she’d again asked Samuel to move the shelves. If she felt like it, she’d respond calm enough and explain. Other times she’d announce loud and clear that she had her reasons and that was enough. Well, it went like that between them, nothing serious.

  With them both in the shop most days, us kids were pretty good at looking after ourselves. We lived in the house out back so it was easy enough for them to check on us while they worked. When it was her turn to come she’d stay if we asked and she’d make us butter and sugar sandwiches. Lily loved them. I’d get her to stay even longer by telling her about something bad Lily or Samuel’d done. Or I’d get her to braid my hair because I was never any good at it. I suppose I never bothered to learn because I liked her hands on me, combing the tangles, oiling my scalp to calm the curls.

  Sometimes if we were bored, we’d pop our heads through the shop’s back door and if it weren’t busy we’d be allowed to stay a while and maybe eat a piece of hard candy. The shop was busiest in the mornings and late afternoons. We weren’t allowed there then, but Samuel convinced my parents to let him help work the shop and that meant Adele had to go too. Lily and I were too young to look after such a small child, my father said. My mother agreed and the two of them swapped her between them as they stocked shelves and served customers.

  When they passed I worried so much about Adele I didn’t know to think of Lily. I was the older but the difference between us was no more than two years and I must’ve felt like there wasn’t much I could do for her. Adele was so young. Protecting her felt like something I could do. Lily scared me. Not her tantrums and shouting and fights with Uncle Joseph and Aunt Mariam. That I could handle. It was when she went qui
et that scared me. Without warning her eyes would go empty and there was no way to see a thing in them then. It got so it was hard to look at her.

  WOMAN LYNCHED

  BY BROOKS CO. MOB

  Valdosta, Ga., May 19 — Mary Turner, wife of Hayes Turner, was hanged this afternoon at Folsom’s bridge over Little river, about sixteen miles north of Valdosta. Hayes Turner was hanged at the Okapilco river in Brooks county last night. His wife, it is claimed made unwise remarks today about the execution of her husband and the people in their indignant mood took exceptions to her remarks, as well as her attitude, and without waiting for nightfall took her to the river where she was hanged and her body riddled with bullets.

  ADELE (1990)

  dying mama you are dead I too will soon too soon they all said but no I am old young you were you’ll see her there Carine says poor Carine alone mothered us all you did even Samuel older eyes waiting to die I’m afraid afraid afraid not to be dead only not to see them there maybe no there where Carine I ask where will you go so lonely to leave you says Samuel I’m here with her always Adele but Samuel his eyes I won’t believe eyes with so much sadness

  Steven Morelli

  April 22, 2017 at 11:41pm · Birmingham, AL, United States ·

  Is Hillary really still talking? Yesterday’s news and today’s garbage. All her talk about HER president is actually TREASON. Its like she’s trying to prove the only way to silence her is to send her to prison.

  51

  CHECHOTER (2019)

  They say Osceola killed the General Thompson not because he had refused him weapons and gunpowder. They say it was because this general had kidnapped and enslaved me, the great Osceola’s wife. They say I was a negro woman. They say I was not his wife. He shot this general with twenty-four bullets. He shot two more white men and scalped all three. These are facts not disputed. They say the scalps were divided into strips so each warrior might have a part. They say I caused the Florida War. They say I was indeed his wife.

  They know he led the Seminole in battle. They know he refused to surrender. They know he refused to leave the land. He watched other chiefs surrender. He saw their people leave the places their ancestors were buried. He saw the negroes among them captured. They know his name at birth was that of a white man. They know negro blood also filled his veins.

  They write he agreed to meet a general who raised a white flag in peace. They write he was betrayed. They do not write who bought me. They do not write my children’s names. If I remained a slave cannot be said. I must have died but it is not written.

  JOSEPH (1964)

  STEVEN ‘BUBBA’ MORELLI (2003)

  Damn hand. What’d the doctor? First the hand, then the other one. Whole arms later, then. Start shaking like a mad man, that’s what. Them looking at me like that. Strange faces. If it weren’t for my hand. That buck. Goddamn it. Mine to have. Damn thieves. Where the hell they came from. I would’ve seen them. Last night, this morning. No, no, nothing like that. Get it out of your mind. You saw them with your own eyes. God’s my witness. Shook up, that’s all. Hand and Diane, the doctor and. One minute nothing and the next the two of them cutting that buck open. More than two hundred pounds. Damn thieves. Focus on the road. One hand’s fine for it. I must’ve left something behind. No. No matter. Get some rest. For the best. I can go back. Not gonna let them scare me off. Get some rest and go back. Damn whole park’s not theirs to run wild in, stealing other men’s hunt. Get a bigger buck. Rest first though. Damn hand. Animals, all of them.

  00:00

  we want to be known as how we are today

  00:01

  we’re living we’re breathing we still have

  00:03

  our culture we still have our language

  00:04

  and we want to be looked at as Americans

  00:08

  as well and I think for some reason the

  00:11

  American dream is that they forget about

  00:12

  the Native Americans I am Everett Osceola

  00:15

  and I am Seminole.

  00:31

  the Seminoles are called the

  00:35

  Unconquered people because we were the

  00:36

  we were the only tribe within US history

  00:40

  to not sign any treaties Seminole

  00:44

  actually was derived from a dialect of

  00:48

  Spanish they just said cimarrón meaning

  00:50

  wild one or the untamed one so it

  00:54

  got butchered over time and over

  00:56

  generations that it was called Seminole

  00:57

  but in a way it kind of stuck because we

  01:00

  weren’t part of the Creeks we weren’t

  01:02

  part of the Choctaws or the

  01:03

  Chickasaws we actually were a part of

  01:06

  some of the ancient tribes

  01:07

  so being untamed or wild ones you know

  01:12

  we just kind of inherited the

  01:14

  name and we have it

  01:16

  now and we kind of have it now proudly

  06:20

  we want to be remembered as how we are

  06:23

  now that we’re living people that we’re

  06:26

  people that are living amongst you not

  06:28

  something that you see in a book not

  06:29

  something you see on TV but you know

  06:31

  we’re doing our thing and we’re still

  06:33

  here and that’s how we want to be

  06:35

  remembered is that we’re still here

  06:36

  we’re not some sort of an exhibit we’re

  06:39

  not some sort of antique you know

  06:41

  extinct people you know we’re still here

  06:44

  [Music]

  Documents

  1: Hartford Courant · 18 May 1929 · Page 26

  2: Los Angeles Times · 18 May 1929 · Page 2

  3: Hartford Courant · 09 Jan 1841 · Page 3

  4: Washington Herald · 07 Sep 1907 · Page 1

  5: Evening Chronicle · 04 Dec 1909 · Page 4

  6: Fayetteville Weekly Observer · 05 May 1836 · Page 3

  7: Harper’s Weekly · 12 Jun 1858 · Page 376

  8: Syrian World, Vol 3, No 12 · Jun 1929 · Page 42

  9: Miami Daily News · 15 Jan 1929 · Page 7

  10: Jesup, Thomas Sidney · 25th Congress, 2nd Session · 1837–38

  11: Gettysburg Compiler · 08 Aug 1837 · Page 1

  12: Jumper, Betty May. Interview by R. Howard. · University of Florida, Seminole Oral Histories Collection ·Jun 28, 1999

  13: Ferris, Joseph W. · The Syrian World, Vol 2, No 8 · Feb 1928 · Page 3

  14: St. Joseph Saturday Herald · 27 Apr 1912 · Page 3

  15: Jackson, Andrew. President Andrew Jackson’s Message to Congress ‘On Indian Removal’ · Dec 6, 1830 · Records of the United States Senate, 1789–1990

  16: Chicago Daily Tribune · 18 May 1929 · Page 8

  17: Miami Daily Metropolis · 09 Jan 1913 · Page 1

  18: Atlanta Constitution · 20 May 1918 · Page 1

  19: “I Am Seminole—Everett Osceola.” · posted by Single Shot · 22 Aug 2017 · https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=INWXaCjKKhc

  SUMMER OF THE SHARK

  I swipe my badge through the clock-in machine nearest the entrance and walk down the narrow hallway to the Pen. The rows of cubicles are still empty except for Lora’s. She’s already at her desk, headset on and taking a call. She watches the muted morning news on one of the TVs hanging fr
om the ceiling and rambles in a mishmash of English and Spanish. ‘Mi amor,’ she says. ‘Pero, you sure no quieres service in both rooms?’ She’s rolling her rrr’s extra hard and stretching her eee’s long enough to signal she’s about to close the deal and it’s only two minutes past six.

  As usual, Max is in his office, pacing back and forth and talking at Karen. Karen’s hand moves furiously across the pad in her lap, but Max’s mouth is moving quicker. I know there’s no way she’s writing down half of what he’s saying. He catches me looking and I begin to pretend I’m not, but what’s the point? The man built himself a corner office made of glass and had it elevated a few feet above our cubicles so he could watch the entire salesfloor. He knows we can see him back. He wants us to.

  I feel his eyes on me as I make my way down the center aisle and sit next to Lora, slip on my headset and hit ‘Available’ on my phone. Calls are slow coming in this early. Ten of us start first thing in the morning and groups of eight or so trickle in at the top of each hour. I like working the early shift. Lets me ease into my day and take community college classes at night.

  I roll my chair back to get a better view of the TV. A redheaded woman and a doughy man wearing a checkered tie are on. The camera cuts away to Michael Jordan on the court, and as the camera zooms in, the caption reads, There’s something in the air: Jordan to return as a Washington Wizard.

  ‘Sup, dog?’ Eli settles into the chair to my right.

  ‘Hey, Eli.’ I glance at my watch – 6:06. ‘Were you late, man?’

  ‘Nah, son. I almost was though. My girl was busting my balls this morning. Got all riled up ’cause I went out last night.’ Eli adjusts his headset over spiked blond hair and leans back against the chair, lean pale limbs sticking out of long black shorts and a silver football jersey.

  Lora twists her chair toward us, finger on her phone’s mute button. ‘Hey, Uh-Oh Oreo. You mind keeping your dumbass talk down?’