The story goes that my grandpere took a load of his Satsuma’s, which are oranges that grow down here, to the French Market up in New Orleans to sell just before Christmas. Little ones knew that Pere Noel would be visiting soon when the Satsuma’s made it to market. So, his arrival generated lots of excitement. To hear grandpere tell the story, a very eye-catching young woman stood on the edge of the crowd around his stall, watching as he sold his fruit. It was easy to see that she wasn’t from south Louisiana and was plainly confused by all the excitement. When traffic at his stall slowed down, he went over to the young lady and offered her one of his Satsumas. The story of their courtship has more different twists and turns, but in the end, she got his pirogue and went with him out to the island, and she stayed here. All this happened more than a century ago.
For sure, she changed the course of our family in ways no one could have expected. She was from the land of snowbirds. Her family worked in the forests there, where they had a lumber mill that produced lumber for new buildings and homes all over. They also made this stuff called maple syrup. Here we grew sugar cane, so we knew cane syrup, but my grandpere learned to accept her syrup on his lost bread. All the kids called it tree juice. Any child who said that knew they needed to be far from grandmere. Her ability to hear a pin drop was legendary and sassy kids would earn themself a taste of grandpere’s old mule strap. That strap is hanging on the wall in my pantry today, and yes, once or twice I got to taste it.
The story goes that before she settled in with grandpere, she demanded that any children they had together go back to New England for their education. My dad and I both learned the ways of the bayous around Moss Island. We also learned the value of books. With books, we could explore the universe. After I graduated from the university, I came home to the island. My family saw themselves as the caretakers of the bayous; I knew I needed to learn more about the bayous. I had spent the summer and early fall at home, then went to Baton Rouge to talk about graduate school with people at the university. While I was in Baton Rouge, a massive storm blew up in the gulf, which became known locally as the no-name storm. Levees washed out, which led to massive floods and utter destruction. The loss of lives was heartbreaking. When rescuers were finally able to make their way to Moss Island, the remains of my mom and dad were found in the wreckage on the island. Grandpere’s old house was standing, but all the smaller outbuildings were gone.
I had a friend who had a small plane; I was able to talk him into flying over the bayous so I could see what was there. Nothing could have prepared me for the total and absolute devastation that I saw. I begged my friend to take me to Baton Rouge, where I hoped to get someone to go with us back out over the bayous. What I thought would be an afternoon’s look-see became a weeklong survey. I disappeared for a week while others made the arrangements for my parent’s funerals and managed everything else. After the funeral, mom and dad’s attorney pulled me aside, telling me that I had urgent matters that needed my attention.
After the storm had passed, I returned home to Moss Island to live. For the next decade, the people here worked to rebuild their lives and homes. They looked to see where buildings withstood the storm’s wrath and what types of buildings stood afterward. Places that weren’t flooded were where people built back. We learned how to build our homes to withstand the storms in the following years. During my grandpere’s time and even more during my dad’s time, one or another company had entered into agreements to explore the bayous we owned for natural resources. One of the standard clauses in every contract was that the company would do no harm to the bayou. If they damaged the bayou, they had to restore it to its original and natural state. The storm destroyed large areas of the bayous.
When I saw the losses these companies had caused, I filed a series of lawsuits against them. I did not seek monetary damages. I wanted to restore the bayou back to where it was. We went around and around endlessly; one case even ended up in the Supreme Court. In the end, they paid my attorney’s fees and court costs. Then, under the supervision of the courts and the folks from the university in Baton Rouge, they began the lengthy process of restoring the damage they had caused. While my attorneys and I were in and out of court. I caught the eye of one of the attorneys who had worked on the cases. A most attractive gal from near Opelousas. I never was one to dance around. It didn’t take long for us to get married.
Life was good. Within a year, I had a son. Soon after that, true magic happened when I heard, “Dada.” The tike was exploring his world, and I had a helper who loved to dig holes, so we planted more satsuma trees. His mother and I stood there in wonder as he and his two Rottie puppies chased each other all over the island. Then the plague exploded. It swept away lives like they were cobwebs. Over a billion people had fallen to this unseen enemy in less than a year. And the death toll only kept going up and up. The plague took my beloved wife and son. The puppies had lost their playmate while I lost my mate. So, the three of us were two puppies and me; we’re lost out here on the island.
The plague’s results were massive and forced immediate changes in society, borders, law, culture, economies, and how people lived together. What had been the United States, Canada, Mexico, and Central America were now four new nations. New nations came together along the Atlantic and Pacific coasts; these two nations reached back towards the mountains. Another country pulled together on the plains and reached up to the arctic. A fourth nation crafted from parts of Texas, Mexico, and Central America. The same changes happened in the rest of the world, with realignments of borders as people sought balance in the new world. The social and legal changes were massive also. One momentous change that came about was the advent of judicial slavery. The thinking was having people sitting in prison detracted from the labor force, and every able-bodied person was needed to help rebuild following the plague. Felons were either sold at a public auction or given to the victim of their crimes as restitution. Justice moved very quickly and surely with few delays. One thing that judges tried to do was when they had a family was to keep the family together when possible.
When I sat back and looked at the world, I saw. My world wasn’t that different from the world my family knew. I lived on Moss Island, where they had lived. Yeah, I did build a new house out here. I made my living from what the bayou gave me. I created the house that my wife and I had designed; we wanted a home that would withstand the worst hurricane and be standing after the storm passed.
When I was a kid, I’d take my pirogue and go to Pop Guidry’s store on River Road and get me a Moon Pie and an RC. Today, I’d take one of my rusted-out Jeeps and go to Pop Guidry’s to make groceries and catch up on all the news in the community. If anyone wanted to know anything going on in our community, all they had to do was just sit down outside Pop’s store. You’d hear all the news from the community in five minutes. Ahh, yes, the joys of a small community; everybody thinks they know everything about your business. For whatever reason, one warm spring afternoon, I decided I needed to go to Pop’s for groceries and who knows what else. I’d sit a spell with my neighbors, enjoy a barley pop with foam on top, and catch up on all the latest gossip. The big news was the conviction of the Moutons women. The mother and daughter were going on the auction block as a pair at the Friday slave auction in New Orleans. The mother had a reputation of being a hellcat; she had a mop of fiery red hair to match her temper. A local wit said she had red hair to warn everybody to stay away. She might be easy to look at, but lord, she does have a stinger like a scorpion. The daughter was too damm smart for her own good, and she had a mouth that would make an old sailor blush. Like her momma, she was easy to look at too.
They had gotten into it with their new neighbor, who had just moved in a day or two before; words flew back and forth along with a fist or two. Public Safety became involved; the result was that both the mother and daughter went to court and ended up enslaved for ten years on a host of charges. I knew about what had happened, and as usual, I kept my opinions to myself.
Down here in the bayou, people help their neighbors. People heard the newcomers bragging that they had gotten rid of his noisy neighbors. Well, folks didn’t see his actions as very neighborly. Since the plague passed, people have left our community for many reasons. I sure hated to see two more leave. While having a reputation as being sharp-tongued, the Mouton women were all great cooks. Great cooks are always in short supply.
I started wondering what I could do. The short answer was I could buy the pair. I’d need to get a slave owner’s permit, but that was a quick, simple online class and pay the fee. I knew I could win the auction. Hell, the auction didn’t get a pair of attractive female slaves very often, so this sale would see buyers and agents from everywhere. Slave agents were looking to pick up a pair of pretty slaves who would become a rich man’s toy and add to a harem. Folks came to see the Moutons and even bid on them, but before they came up for sale, all the other scheduled sales would occur first. The auction of the Mouton women opened with bids that rapidly drove up the price for the pair. When the bidding began to lag, I jumped in with my bid of fifty thousand more than the last bid. Someone countered with an offer of ten thousand more. I didn’t want to play games, so I countered with an added fifty thousand. That silenced the auction, and I got them.