55 pages • 1 hour read
LeAnne HoweMiko Kings
Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2007A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Chapters 4-6Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Chapter 4 Summary: “The Martyr of Hope”
Chapter 4 begins in 1969, but this time in a new location: New Orleans, Louisiana. It is written in the first person from the point of view of “Algernon Pinchot, Assistant Professor at Morehuse College” (69), who is writing a biography of Justina Maurepas, also known as “Black Juice.” Algernon is persistent in his quest for her story, stating, “Three times this week I have driven to her home to attempt to arrange an interview, and three times I have been turned away. […] Her great- granddaughter, however, took pity on me and by telephone assured me of a one-hour interview” (70). Black Juice is known for her involvement with the Black Nationalists when she was younger, and there were two particular incidents where her activism manifested in the form of violence.
Algernon arrives thinking that he will hear inspiring stories from the legendary activist, but if getting an interview at all was difficult, convincing Justina to speak about the past is twice as difficult. She will only converse in French and evades some of Algernon’s questions. Gently, Algernon asks if he can sing some of the lines of a song about her, one that calls her the “Martyr of Hope” (72). In the song, Black Juice is a hero, but Justina tells him that it’s not true. She says that she still advocates for equality and social justice but adds, “I failed long ago in my struggles against violence and inequality. In fact, you could say I succumbed to it” (73). She asks why he wants to research her when she feels that not much came out of her days as an activist.
Algernon is overcome with passion and urges her to tell her story if she wants it recorded accurately. He says that only she can set the record straight about what really happened, adding, “Madame, […] I know you are aware of the present, so what I propose is that these two realities, your past and the present, have a conversation” (75). Justina looks at him for a while and then concedes that she will tell him her story.
Justina chronicles her past, beginning from her early childhood in Louisiana and her early dreams of being an artist. She recalls her mother always being afraid of racially induced violence, though Justina didn’t understand it at the time. She was sent to the Hampton Normal School for Blacks and Indians at the age of 14. While she was there, her mother died of malaria, and Justina became aware for the first time of the racism that comes with being Black, Indigenous American, or, in her case, both. Her mother’s brothers were shot and beaten to death. The youngest one was “only nineteen, but every major bone in his body was broken” (75). Continuing, Justina says, “But I think it was when Mother died that…” (75), her voice trailing off as she breaks into tears. Algernon watches with empathy, understanding that voicing the trauma of her early years, perhaps for the first time, is taking a toll on the woman.
When she dries her eyes, Justina continues to tell Algernon about her time in New Orleans, including what drove her to commit the act of violence that started the legend of Black Juice. At the age of 22, Justina was working as a teacher at the Courtesan in the Storyville District. She explains that she bore witness to egregious acts of physical and sexual violence to the children of the sex workers there. She explains, “There were many in our group who were trying to expose what was happening. At that time there were no societies against the cruelty of children” (77). One of the group members stole a box of dynamite, and according to the legend, an iceman claimed that he saw Justina running away from the brothel where she worked moments before it blew up. Afterward, Justina was arrested and tortured in prison for more information about her cohorts, but she wouldn’t speak a word against them. Algernon mentions that “Orleans Parish never had an eyewitness against [her]. There was no iceman” (77). He asks Justina if it’s true, and she says yes but that it doesn’t make any difference: The damage is done, and people died.
As Algernon ends the interview and prepares to leave, Justina’s great-granddaughter Evangeline gifts him with a vase filled with white gardenias. The two share a moment, and Justina studies them. She announces that she would like him to return tomorrow. She tells him, “If you come back I will not talk about the Black Juice of New Orleans, but I will tell a much more interesting account and history—of the time I was the lover of Hope Little Leader” (81). The man was the love of her life, she says, and the father of her only daughter.
Chapter 5 Summary: “Skunks Are Sensitive”
Back in Ada, Oklahoma, in 1969, Hope is telling Kerwin stories from his past as Kerwin treats his bedsore. The sore is wretched, with the infection going down to the bone and without much hope of recovery. Kerwin feels guilty for the protesting stunt, which put him on probation and left Hope in the care of other people. He “knows that the day nurses don’t give a shit about elderly Indians. He’s overheard them say they take care of paying residents first, Indians on welfare last” (83). Now, Hope’s infection might be beyond saving.
Hope doesn’t seem to pay much heed to his wound. He is too busy recounting the story of transferring to Jones Academy. There, he met Wild Buck Taylor, who “had been a batting coach on the same Winfield Reds team as [his] late uncle, Ahojebo Little Leader” (85). Hope had been sent to play for him like many other “ornery fellers” (85). Wild Buck saw himself as more than a coach; he was someone there to help guide the Indigenous American players, especially when they played against all-white teams.
Soon, the conversation shifts from old baseball stories to Kerwin’s protest the other day. Hope tells Kerwin the story about the time his teammates called him Ohoyo Holba, which means “like a woman but not” (8). It was during the filming of His Last Game, when he was given a wig that had braids plaited like a young girl’s, not a warrior’s. His tone changes from jovial to reverent, as he adds that long ago, Ohoyo Holba were treated with respect. He says that these people would wear women’s dresses, adding, “They were givers who had multiple kinds of powers inside them. […] By wearing the dress he was showing the world he was in a state of grace, so to speak, a man without limitations” (89). Hope’s kindness toward Kerwin in this vulnerable moment strengthens their friendship.
Hope reminisces on other stories about baseball, but one story in particular reveals more about his past. He recalls spending time alone with Wild Buck, who finally told him how his uncle, the great baseball player Ahojebo, died. Wild Buck said that when he found out that his sister (Hope’s mom) died, he decided to find the man who took her kids away. He tracked down the reverend’s church and started to beat down the door with an ax. Wild Buck said that it was there that the reverend shot him, and “by the time some of [them] got over to Tulsa, they’d buried Ahojebo out behind the church he was trying to destroy” (94). Hope was filled with rage and sadness, but Wild Buck assured him that going after the preacher would do nothing but cause even more harm. He told him that Ahojebo would want him to stay at Jones Academy and finish his education.
Hope then tells Kerwin about the Alikchi, a healer who was called upon to pray over the ground where the Miko Kings would call home. He tells Kerwin that the Alikchi circled the ground 19 times “until he had prayed the ground clean, and then he laid out the baseball field according to the four directions. A square within a circle” (98). That ground became the first ballpark in Ada. Hope asks again if he’s told the story about how he started to play for the Miko Kings, and Kerwin patiently lets him tell it again. He watches as Hope slowly drifts off to sleep and wishes that he’d known Hope at his prime.
Chapter 6 Summary: “The Vulgarians”
In 1904, Henri Day and his cousin Lonnie Johns are watching Tobucksy and Sugar Loaf, two Choctaw teams, square off in a game of stickball. It’s the game of the year for gamblers in Choctaw Nation, and they “save the entire year to barter on this one game” (103). Henri comments that he wishes the crowds were this large in Ada, and Lonnie tells him that he’ll need to allow gambling at the games.
The match is a close one, and some of the players demonstrate extraordinary athleticism. Malihoma, for instance, “may be the oldest man on the field, but he still plays like his name. Red Storm” (105). Henri watches him with awe and recognizes that the heart and leadership that Malihoma brings to the field is what he needs to find for the Miko Kings. He shouts to Lonnie that he found a solution to their problems.
Without warning, a brawl breaks out between the Tobucksy and Sugar Loaf friends. People bang their sticks together, and women flash their opponents, holding up their skirts in both directions. They attack each other, and chaos ensues. From then on, Henri is blamed for the event that will forever be referred to as “Choctaw Intermission” (107). All the brawl did was reinforce an untrue belief about the Choctaws: that they can’t take care of their own affairs.
A few days later, Henri is eating breakfast in the hotel lobby when he gets word that an opponent in the mayoral election, Leon Bonaparte, has written a scandalous letter to the editor that has been printed in the newspaper’s morning edition. In it, Leon writes scathing claims about Henri, stating that he’s “foul-mouthed, pedantic, and self-aggrandizing about his Indian Baseball League” (109), and Leon outwardly names Henri as the cause of the Choctaw Intermission. Even worse, the “letter [runs] side by side with Henri’s advertisement for mayor” (110). Henri is furious and starts to rack his brain for how he should proceed. Henri leaves the hotel, determined to find a manager for the Miko Kings. Henri has faith that the Miko Kings “will be the first inter-tribal business, an alliance that will spread across the whole U.S.” (112). If he wants his people to keep their game, he reasons, they’ll have to prove that they can come together to make it happen.
On his way home, Henri stops in a store for some groceries. There, he finds himself standing next to a young white woman, who turns out to be Nellie Bennett, a second cousin of the town marshal, Basil Bennett. She excitedly tells Henri that she’s read about his plans for the ballpark when “[i]t suddenly occurs to him that he’s building a baseball park so people, many of them whites, can be entertained by watching Indians play ball” (114). In the same breath, Nellie tells Henri how much she loved seeing Geronimo at the World’s Fair. Henri knows that “[t]he government likes to trout out Geronimo every goddamn chance they get. He’s a living war trophy for the Calvary at Fort Sill” (115). Henri is put off by the way white people seem to get entertainment out of watching Indigenous Americans. He leaves the store with mixed feelings about the interaction.
The next morning, Henri wakes up to the sound of knocking on his door. Marshal Bennett is outside, and he tells Henri that there is a situation on his allotment land. He’s asked two other aldermen to come out to the prairie with them, one of them being Leon Bonaparte. With horror, the marshal tells the men that a white man and woman had been squatting on Henri’s land. The man hung himself “after his wife found him having relations with a chicken” (117). When the men arrive, the body is already swarmed by flies and reeks of death. Henri notices Leon uttering a Choctaw prayer for the dead man. The marshal and Alderman Tom Johnson take the woman off screaming and cursing, saying that they’ll put her on a train out of town. Henri and Leon are then left to bury the body.
When the wagon is out of sight, Henri approaches Leon, who says another Choctaw prayer for the dead man. Afterward, Leon apologizes to Henri for writing the letter to the editor. He’s converted to Christianity and is against gambling now, which is the main reason he decided to write it. Henri tells him that he, too, is a “Christian—of sorts—and [he] also respect[s] Choctaw beliefs” (120). Leon thinks for a moment and then tells him that he will retract his statement.
As they bury the body, the men discuss who Henri should add to the team. The Ada Weekly News reports four additions: Blip Bleen (a hitter), “third baseman Napoleon Bonaparte, rookie first baseman Lucius Mummy, and veteran catcher Albert ‘Batteries’ Goingsnake” (123). The chapter ends with this news article, which also lists a series of rules for the ballpark that will hopefully convince the people of Ada that Henri won’t allow gambling at his games.
Chapters 4-6 Analysis
These chapters primarily focus on three things: the backstory of Justina “Black Juice” Maurepas, race relations among the Indigenous, white, and Black Americans, and additional historical context about the Allotment Era.
Chapter 4 uses the framing device of another writer, Algernon, who is investigating the story of Black Juice. Howe opens the chapters with these words: “People need stories. Our beliefs, our cultural heroes and heroines, are created in stories” (69). Algernon’s quest for the true story of Black Juice in 1969 mirrors Lena’s quest for the true story of the Miko Kings in 2006. After listening to Justina talk about how she feels undeserving of the legacy that’s been built for her, Algernon begins to see the real person behind the hero. He notes,
I realize that the fighter of the legend, the twenty-two year old who, on July 25, 1900, purportedly took three sticks of dynamite and headed down to the red-light district to blow it up, is ailing. Not just from her advanced age, but from something more lethal: her unspoken sorrow (75).
This moment directly speaks to the book’s theme of The Importance of Preserving an Accurate History. Through Black Juice’s character, the book suggests that speaking the truth is necessary not only so that future generations will know it but also so that those who have held it in can be released from the pain caused by keeping it to themselves.
Many of the painful memories Justina has are wrapped up in race relations, some of which foreshadow conflict between characters in the book. She recalls, “When I was a small child, all the French people I knew in my parish were like me. A mixture of many things. I guess you could say that I was the one who was colorblind—that is certainly true of my choices in men” (74). Her love with Hope Little Leader is eventually the target of racial discrimination, not just from the white Americans but from the Indigenous Americans as well. They disapprove of the relationship, and this moment foreshadows the tension that the couple will face later in the book.
One aspect of conflict between Indigenous Americans and white Americans is greed. The text reveals that “[f]or the past five years, [Henri] and his mother have fought allotment. […] But lately Henri’s growing increasingly worried that nothing they do will stop the allotment process” (116). As Ezol told Lena, thousands of white Americans tried to get their own piece of free land: “These days if the Naholla aren’t trying to kill Indians out west, they’re trying to marry Indians in Indian Territory. Or worse, they claim they are Indians” (115). The privatization (and unfair distribution) of tribal lands, the rapid enrollment of Indigenous American children into boarding schools, and the monetary profits made off of using Indigenous Americans as a form of entertainment all make Henri’s push for the Miko Kings feel more urgent. Reflecting The Intersection of Baseball and Indigenous Identity, he is searching for something the Naholla can’t take away from his people—something that will instead bring them together.
