Running through the Pines
By Jerome Pearson
Good Friday 1989
The old dirt road ran curvaceously along side miles of pine forest in the heart of Carolina. The wind blew incessantly, and if one were to listen closely, a sweet and soothing melody could be heard from the pines as they courted the wind.
John Morris drove his old beat-up pickup truck down this road one day, trying to find an old graveyard that had been rumored to contain the bodies of his great grandfather and grandmother, both of whom were borne towards the end of legal slavery. It was a graveyard that had a legend for being the resting place of the ancestors of many of the town’s members, who died in a massacre immediately following emancipation. The massacre resulted when many men and women insisted on their freedom, and who were met with the batons and blows of the confederacy. In this graveyard, it is also rumored that those former slaves never died but have established a new community smack in the middle of the forest.
A trail of dust followed the old truck and John could barely see behind. In the passenger seat sat John’s adventurous girlfriend, Lillie Mae Dingle. They had decided that since they didn’t have to work in the fields on this beautiful Friday, it was an ideal time for the two of them to finally go on that long and dreary search that had excited most of the town’s folks since the days of slavery. It is said that many people have attempted to undertake this perilous journey but have been too afraid to go all the way. “All the way” is a rather nebulous description since the exact location of the graveyard is not known.
John enjoyed the way the old truck handled on the soft, dusty, white sand as he drove for what seemed like eternity. Lillie Mae had been joking with him about the possibility of their being captured by a ghost or an evil spirit and never returned. As John drove deeper and deeper into the forest, he began to suspect that there might be some merit to Lillie Mae’s joking. It had crossed his mind that they could even be captured by their own ancestors. This is not an unusual feeling, for even though we long to see the dead again, we still are, strangely, afraid of them. Or, perhaps, we are afraid of the unknown.
After driving further, the road suddenly changed and showed evidence of being less traveled. Although the basic design remained, it was evident, from the weeds and brushes that this portion of the road was hardly ever used. John decided to stop for a while to get re-oriented. He had been told by others that the road would change at a point, but he was unclear as to when this change was to occur.
“So, are you scared yet”, he asked Lillie Mae who promptly replied, “just a little; but because we have come as far as this, we may as well continue.” “Good”, John stated, “Cause no way I’m going to turn around now anyhow, especially after waiting for this opportunity for all these years.” Within seconds the truck was on its way again.
The pine trees were lined so neatly that you’d think they were soldiers in formation awaiting inspection by a senior commander. It was almost 1pm when they decided to stop and have lunch. Lillie Mae had prepared peanut butter and cheese sandwiches which were to be washed down with royal crown cola. They ate lunch on an old army blanket which did little to keep the small red ants from crawling all over their bodies.
John was just finishing his third peanut butter sandwich when he noticed what looked like a black coach-whip snake peeking from behind a pine tree. Coach-whips, called “Tracers” by many, get their name from the fact that they resemble a black whip. Many people believe that they can stand upright and run on small feet like a man. When they run you down, which they inevitably do, they wrap their bodies around you like a rope and choke you to death.
John became a bit uneasy, but upon closer examination, he realized that what he’d seen was not a Coach-whip, but a very thin black man who was beckoning them in his direction. “Who are you?” John asked. There was no reply. The beckoning continued. Lillie Mae held onto John’s arm. John was hesitant, but there was something familiar that kept John moving in the man’s direction.
John and Lillie Mae followed the man as if in a trance. Although they were somewhat frightened, they could no more turn around than they could stop the sun from shinning. The man would turn around every few seconds to see if they were still following, but he always kept his distance.
When they had followed the man for nearly one hour, the sun suddenly disappeared. It didn’t become dark, but there was no day light either. It looked like early dawn. Suddenly, John realized that Lillie Mae’s clothes had turned to rags. He then noticed that his clothes had also changed and were now rags and his shoes were too big and had several holes. In fact, they both were now dressed like the man they were following.
Then they heard the dogs, and knew, instinctively, that they had to run; they were being hunted down by the slave masters. John’s mind began to play tricks on him. He couldn’t determine if he was living in the future and dreaming about the past, or if he was living in the past and dreaming about the future, or if the past and future were one and the same.
JP
Good Friday 1989