by Jimmy Fox
They walked to Mr. Tadbull’s den and stepped back into the dining room across the hall to observe the old man framed by the doorsill.
“His casino deal fell through, of course,” Holly whispered, “after he put all those people out of work and wasted all that money sprinkling payoffs around. The sad story of his affair with Luevenia came out. And then his son nearly gets killed. I think he did some soul-searching, and didn’t like what he found. Even his old buddy Representative Girn abandoned him.”
Girn was now a highly paid Washington lobbyist for a political action group pushing for congressional action and a giant class-action suit against all American Indian tribes for allegedly introducing tobacco to the colonists.
In his last real conversation with Holly, shortly after Wooty’s brush with death, Mr. Tadbull had told her he was a selfish old goat for keeping Wooty subservient and ignorant of his true origins. Though he hadn’t been responsible for Nooj’s mad acts, he felt that his son’s harrowing experience was a judgment from God, and a last chance to do something worthwhile. Mr. Tadbull had arranged for his son, when sufficiently recovered, to take over all family business, exercising complete, unquestioned control. As a final penance, he sold half of the family’s land and a half interest in the sawmill to the Katogoula Tribe for the grand sum of five Sacagawea dollar coins, a buffalo nickel, and an Indian-head penny.
Mr. Tadbull sat at the pearwood gaming table in his study; a lamp made from a miniature slot machine cast more shadow than light on the relics of the room. An inviting blaze crackled in the fireplace. Wristwatches were spread out like cards on the red baize in front of him. A cigar box to his left contained a heap of eviscerated timepieces.
“Oh, he eats and sleeps and all that,” Holly said. “He’s healthy physically. But this is what he does. After he signed everything over to Wooty, he just retreated into a shell. Miss Luevie sits with him a lot, since Royce runs the store now mostly. She buys those cheap watches for him. He likes her to do his nails. That’s about the only thing that makes him smile. Just a little.” She walked to the door of the den. “Hi, Wooten. Nice day out there. Want to take a walk with me?”
He hunched over the watch he was working on, doubly intent on his meaningless task.
“Come on,” Holly said to Nick. “He’ll start crying in a minute. Have you ever seen an old man cry? I hate it when they do that.”
Miss Luevie and Verla made sure Nick ate too much delicious lunch, both grousing about his scrawniness.
And later, Holly, reluctant to let him step on the gas and go back to New Orleans, stood beside his car at the driver’s-side window. She held his extended hand in both of hers at her warm, firm stomach, against her emerald cashmere sweater.
“You know,” she said, “Chief Claude had you only half figured out: you’re the Midwife-of-Tomorrow Man, too.”
The world of Sangfleuve Parish and Tadbull Hall fell away from his view, and he was a holy man a thousand years in the past or in the future—he couldn’t tell; and his hand on this goddess’s belly was a blessing of life for the Katogoula Tribe, and mankind, forever.
The next second he was back. His eyes misted and he had to swallow hard a few times before he could say, “Thanks.”
“I called one of my anthropology professors at LSU,” said Holly. “About the phrase in Nooj’s notebooks: BAH-UA CU-BISH-NAW-A. She was pretty excited. Only a handful of Quinahoa words have survived. It’s more like Caddo than anything else. She translated it as ‘war blood.’ The Quinahoa might have been one of those tribes that drank their defeated enemy’s blood or”—she made a disgusted face—“ate them. We’re going to make the Chenerie notebooks available to the public. I’m sure Nooj and his Quinahoa ancestors didn’t realize their death lists would help future genealogists trace their enemy’s ancestry.”
She told him of another project: assembling a list of Quinahoa and Yaknelousa names from the memories of living Katogoula and from written sources.
“Just think,” Holly said, “if enough Quinahoa and Yaknelousa descendants turn up, maybe they’ll want to start their own tribes? And I know the perfect genealogist for the job.”
“Oh, no, not me,” Nick said, jamming the MG into reverse. “I’ve had enough Indian genealogy for a while. I’m taking some time off.”
“Actually, I meant Hawty. We had a video chat this morning. She’s raring to go. We’ll be glad to offer all the help she can use. The old hatchet’s finally buried now—”
“You mean the old atlatl?”
“We plan to display Tommy’s atlatl in an honored place at the museum. Now it’s part of our common history—Katogoula, Yaknelousa, and Quinahoa—just like the war. We would welcome the Quinahoa into our tribe, but we’d also understand their desire for their own identity. After what we’ve been through, though, I can’t say I recommend it. . . . Hawty’s a good gal, Nick. Don’t let her get away from you.”
Yeah, he said to himself, braking and looking back at Tadbull Hall in the afternoon sun. A talent of mine.
The drive home was long and lonely, except for Doc Cheatham and his horn. Flush with Katogoula cash, and more to come, Nick decided to double Hawty’s salary, then triple it, and finally compromised with himself and cut the tripling in half.
Judge Hilaire Chaurice had pleaded to be reinstated as a client. The throwing justice had decided to document his maternal line instead, certain—or perhaps just hopeful—that there were no colonial prostitutes on that side. His son’s marriage was scheduled for May, but he was now worried the fiancée’s rich family was getting cold feet. He needed something very impressive in the way of ancestors to tilt the scales his way.
A raise and a bonus. He would give Hawty the judge! Perfect.
Nick turned up the music and the heat a bit, savored the earth-scented cobalt and vermilion Louisiana dusk flowing in through his half-open window, and imagined the pleasures of a month in Italy with Veronique.
CHAPTER 41
Requirements for Membership in the Katogoula Tribe of Cutpine, Louisiana
Resolved, by the Katogoula Tribal Council:
Individuals may seek enrollment in the Katogoula Indian Tribe of Cutpine, Louisiana, and thus participate in the Rights, Obligations, and Honors attaching to such membership, by means of at least one of the following criteria:
1)For those living at the effective date of this document, proof, through verifiable genealogical research, of descent from one of the Katogoula kinship groups residing in the Cutpine area during the time of the Removals to Indian Territory, Oklahoma, 1825- 1855. Seven groups have been documented.
2)For those living at the effective date of this document, proof of descent from any individual identified as a Katogoula Indian—whether of the core groups or not—before 1825. Admissible evidence shall include, among other things, written accounts of explorers, missionaries, military and administrative operatives, and traders. Those proving descent from any member of the Yaknelousa and Quinahoa tribes, both amalgamated with the Katogoula Tribe before historical times, shall be entitled to admission.
3)Adoption, at the discretion of the Tribal Council, taking into consideration special circumstances:
a.Honorary membership for meritorious service to the tribe,
b.For humanitarian reasons, or
c.For any other reason the Tribal Council may deem appropriate.
Adoption, in all cases, shall be for a lifetime term only, and shall entitle the individual to all privileges except tribal monetary allocation and heritability of enrolled status. Certain federal aid programs may not be available to adoptees of the tribe.
4)Individuals born after the effective date of this document who seek admission to the tribe must have either parent as an enrolled member, in good standing—or so enrolled at time of death—of the Katogoula Tribe of Cutpine, Louisiana. There is no blood-quantum requirement imposed by the tribe with respect to enrollment of individuals covered by this section.
Prospective enrollees have the responsi
bility of providing all necessary genealogical proof. The tribe’s History and Genealogy Department may be able to offer suggestions and assistance. The materials listed below provide excellent general background information on the Katogoula Tribe and its struggle to preserve its heritage:
Herald, J. N. and H. Latimer. People of the Sacred Cougar: The Katogoula Tribe of Louisiana. New Orleans: Coldbread Press, forthcoming.
Herald, J. N. and H. Latimer, eds. The Chenerie Katogoula Death Lists. New Orleans: Coldbread Press.
Worthstone, Holly. Wind through the Pines: A Visual Journey with the Katogoula Tribe of Cutpine, Louisiana. Baton Rouge: Tadbull Hall Productions. DVD.
Worthstone, Holly and Lovenia Dejeune Silsby. The Art of Bascove Tadbull: Forest Gothic. Baton Rouge: Tadbull Hall Productions, forthcoming.
On the Web:
All decisions regarding membership suitability, and changes in the requirements for membership, shall be the sole province of the Katogoula Tribal Council, which, per the Tribal Constitution and treaties with the Government of the United States of America and with the State of Louisiana, is in its own affairs sovereign.
Tommy Shawe
President
Luevenia Dejeune Silsby
Chairwoman,
History & Genealogy Dept.
J. N. Herald
Consulting
Genealogist
