Circuit Rider

UNLV Theses, Dissertations, Professional Papers, and Capstones 5-2009 Circuit Rider Kimberley Harris Idol University of Nevada, Las Vegas Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalscholarship.unlv.edu/thesesdissertations Part of the Fiction Commons, Literature in English, North America Commons, and the Modern Literature Commons Repository Citation Idol, Kimberley Harris, "Circuit Rider" (2009). UNLV Theses, Dissertations, Professional Papers, and Capstones. 1170. http://dx.doi.org/10.34917/2533726 This Thesis is protected by copyright and/or related rights. It has been brought to you by Digital Scholarship@UNLV with permission from the rights-holder(s). You are free to use this Thesis in any way that is permitted by the copyright and related rights legislation that applies to your use. For other uses you need to obtain permission from the rights-holder(s) directly, unless additional rights are indicated by a Creative Commons license in the record and/ or on the work itself. This Thesis has been accepted for inclusion in UNLV Theses, Dissertations, Professional Papers, and Capstones by an authorized administrator of Digital Scholarship@UNLV. For more information, please contact [email protected]. CIRCUIT RIDER by Kimberley Harris Idol Bachelor of Arts Mount St. Mary's College, Los Angeles 1989 Masters of Science Mount St. Mary's College, Los Angeles 1994 Masters of Arts California State University of Northridge, Reseda 2003 A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing Department of English University of Nevada, Las Vegas Graduate College University of Nevada, Las Vegas May 2009 UMI Number: 1472418 Copyright 2009 by Idol, Kimberley Harris INFORMATION TO USERS The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. 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Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346 Copyright by Kimberley Harris Idol 2009 All Rights Reserved Thesis Approval The Graduate College University of Nevada, Las Vegas April 3 20 09 The Thesis prepared by Kimberley Idol Entitled Circuit Rider is approved in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing Examination Committee Chair Dean of the Graduate College Examination Committee Member Examination Committee Member Graduate College Faculty Representative 1017-53 ii ABSTRACT Circuit Rider: by Kimberley Harris Idol Mr. Douglas Unger, Examination Committee Chair Professor of English University of Nevada, Las Vegas An historical novel set at the end of the American Civil War focusing on the week between President Lincoln's assassination and John Wilkes Booth's death. The backdrop of the story is comprised of the historical events and political figures that shaped this period in time in America. The plot is also configured around the fictional histories of three young souls, the spirit of a murdered Chinese immigrant girl, and a brother and sister who's home in the Appalachians was destroyed during the war. All three are escaping the devastating consequences of the war and seeking a new start in the Western states. They become personally entangled in the plot to assassinate the president on the way west. The story focuses on the American underclass, the distinctive experiences of the runaways, the impoverished, immigrants, newly freed slaves and those in the criminal class who were also active participants in shaping the recorded history of the United States and as noteworthy as the heroes and villains Americans know by heart. The novel posits that the small dramas have as powerful an effect on the course of American history as do the renowned conflagrations and disasters that become headline news. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS ABSTRACT Hi PROLOGUE 1 1 6 2 18 3 30 4 46 5 61 6 65 7 70 8 76 9 78 10 87 11 97 12 99 13 112 14 123 15 129 16 133 17 137 18 142 iv 19 149 20 158 21 159 22 166 23 168 24 172 25 181 26 192 27 201 28 211 29 217 30 219 31 228 32 236 33 245 34 251 35 253 36 255 37 259 VITA 262 v Circuit rider is an American term for an individual who travels a regular circuit of locations to provide services and judgment. The term first came into widespread application forjudges, particularly in the sparely populated American West, who would hold court in each town in their circuit on a regular basis. Preachers who did this would ride on horseback and were called circuit riders or saddlebag preachers. They traveled with few possessions, carrying only what could fit in their saddlebags. They traveled through wilderness and villages, they preached every day at any place available and they were always on the move Prologue There are people who don't do you any good and people you can't help but hurt. You shouldn't travel with these companions even if they strike your fancy. At fourteen years Cable Gaines was already a bad stick when I first saw him, a dirty cracker with an ugly core, and at thirteen I was already a twisted soul. We were young, but even children can make decisions that set their fates in stone. I am Mei and the first time I saw Cable properly was in afield bursting with grape shot and cannon fire. Then we suffered a string of days following the troops, then we took a train ride and then we trailed together more or less, until Cable finally cut me loose. Drifters tend to take the same trails through big territories. The world is huge but there are few beaten paths, so you can't help but run into one another from time to time, particularly if you are heading west. I lost track of him from time to time but we always met up again. I liked Cable from the start. I liked that he could harbor as much spite as I could. I liked the way he could take a beating, tolerate betrayal and return the same and I loved lying to a boy who never spoke the truth. It was Cable who taught me to read, though he did it mostly to shut me up. I could only read in English but I could read and write in the end. I might have made a fine grown woman, had I lived. I am Mei. Born in wartime while my parents were soldiering in the eastern Guangxi Zhuang region, bonfires and screaming are my first memories. My people lived in the mountains and hid in the mud. I think my birthplace deformed me. My living shape would 1 have fooled you. When you looked at me you would have seen a girl but inside I was a panther with a festering scratch in its side. My family and I fled China when I was too young to wear pigtails. I remember that I wore a rough weave my grandmother gave me the day my parents, my brother and I, crept away. I remember that I lost my shoes on a beach because it was dark and I tripped. And when I tried to retrieve them my mother slapped me. "My shoes, " I whispered. "Shoes are for walking Mei. Now is the time to swim. " Then she forced me into the water and followed, with my brother strapped to her back. My parents sold me into the life soon after we landed. They probably comforted themselves with the long view; one that extended backwards through generations and affected futures they would never see. But I always saw life in smaller bits, only each day at a time mattered; this was my way until I died. And I have never forgiven them for casting me adrift. If they sold me in order to survive, I am not certain they deserved it. I never knew my birthday, or my exact age. Those details evaporate into the high wide sky when you cross oceans. Numbers matter to the Chinese. Good or bad ones can conserve or destroy one's destiny. But I never knew my dates, so I never knew my numbers. But in numerology terms, Mei is 3, a strong number. As the Chinese sell their daughters, Americans squander their sons. Cable was a half- breed hillbilly dredged out of the Appalachian soil by army scouts and fitted with fatigues. He didn't have his sisters with him when we met, digging in behind a failing line of shooters, on a blasted battlefield. He called me a whore and I pitched a rock at him. You could tell straight off that he liked being smarter than the next fellow. I think he 2 learned letters just out of spite. It was a skill that made him better than his origins. He hated his father, his mother, and just about everybody else. And he loved his sisters. I think he let me be because even bad boys get lonely and the fact that I would have dropped him down a well just because it was Tuesday made him smile. If the world is a base place, then being meaner than it is makes you a lion instead of a mouse.

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