In early November, I went north with Captain Bembery to pay our respects at the burial of his friend E. J. Watson. But all I could think about was Lucius, who had boarded with my family in Everglade when we were ten or eleven, gone to school with me and got some tutoring from Mama, who adored him. I bet he read every darned book we had. He was my best friend and I thanked the Lord he had not been a witness on that shore at Chokoloskee. He would have done his utmost to protect his father and might have gotten himself killed right along with him.
After the burial, Lucius took me aside and asked me to look after his dad’s boat until he came back to reclaim the Watson place and “get to the bottom of this ugly business.” I warned him right there at the cemetery that he must not return, not now and maybe never. Those men were afraid of him, it would be too dangerous. Cap’n Bembery told him the same thing and so did Willie Brown and Tant: he nodded politely, but I don’t guess he paid us much attention. For such a quiet modest feller, Lucius Watson can be very very stubborn, and watching his eyes, I was pretty sure that sooner or later he was going to be back.