Big Boy Leaves Home

“In the distance a train whistled mournfully.

‘There goes number fo!’

‘Hittin on all six!’

‘Highballin it down the line!’

‘Boun fer up Noth, Lawd, bound fer up Noth!’

They began to chant, pounding bare heels in the grass.

Dis train bound fo Glory

Dis train, Oh Hallelujah […]

When the song ended they burst out laughing, thinking of a train bound for Glory.”

This is the first instance of a train appearing in the story. Real and imaginary trains are a motif in “Big Boy Leaves Home,” and this early appearance establishes the train’s literal connection to the North and its symbolic connection with the escape from oppression. The boys immediately break into an African American gospel song after hearing the train, evoking the train’s meaningful connections to Black folk traditions. The train’s whistle is “melancholy,” just like the song, which is about salvation after death. Its melancholy tone also reflects the boys’ longing to go north and live in a place where they have “ekual rights.”

“‘Yuh see,’ began Big Boy, ‘when a ganga guys jump on yuh, all yuh gotta do is put the heat on one of them n make im tell the others t let up, see?’

‘Gee, thas a good idee!’

‘Yeah, thas a good idee!’

‘But yuh almos broke mah neck, man,’ said Bobo.

‘Ahma smart n-----,’ said Big Boy, thrusting out his chest.’”

Big Boy relates the lesson of the supposedly playful brawl the boys have just had. His three friends attacked him in retribution for knocking them over, but Big Boy escapes a beating by locking Bobo in a chokehold and making the others back off to save their friend’s neck. This scene is disturbing foreshadowing because Big Boy and Bobo will be chased by a mob by the end of the story, making this dubious lesson more than hypothetical. It is also foreshadowing in the sense that Bobo will become the sacrificial victim to the mob, highlighting the possible ethical drawbacks of Big Boy’s survival tactics.

“The man stopped, blinked, spat blood. His eyes were bewildered. His face whitened. Suddenly, he lunged for the rifle, his hands outstretched.”

This is the description of Jim’s last act before Big Boy shoots him with his own gun. The plosives in the first sentence “stopped, blinked, spat blood” create a sense of sonic pause between their initial skirmish and their final fate, which does not necessarily need to end in either party’s death. Wright has described Jim as “the white man” up till now, but here, facing death, he has become simply a “man”—a “bewildering” condition for the white man who is used to being in a position of domination. His face whitens as if he knows that he’s about to die. Jim seems to think that risking death is a better option than appearing weak in front of Bertha.

“‘Open yo mouth n talk! Whut yuh been doin?’ The old man gripped Big Boy's shoulders and peered at the scratches on his face.

‘Me n Lester n Buck n Bobo wuz out on ol man Harveys place swimmin…’

‘Saul, its a white woman!’

Big Boy winced. The old man compressed his lips and stared at his wife. Lucy gaped at her brother as though she had never seen him before.”

Big Boy’s situation is communicated to his father. Before he can explain the whole story, his mother interjects, “Saul, it’s a white woman!” Saul’s and Lucy’s reactions show how this information is shorthand for the direst situation an African American boy can find himself in, providing the ultimate excuse for lynching as the supposed protection of white women.

“Lucy came running with Big Boy's shoes and pulled them on his feet. The old man thrust a battered hat on his head. The mother went to the stove and dumped the skillet of corn pone into her apron. She wrapped it, and unbuttoning Big Boy's overalls, pushed it into his bosom.”

This is the moment just before Big Boy leaves his home. His whole family literally and symbolically contributes toward sending him on his way, with his sister putting on his shoes, his father putting on his hat, and his mother giving him food for the journey, wrapped in a symbol of home—her apron. He is taking his home with him.

“He made for the railroad, running straight toward the sunset. He held his left hand tightly over his heart, holding the hot pone of corn bread there. At times he stumbled over the ties, for his shoes were tight and hurt his feet.”

Big Boy uses the railroad tracks to sneak away from his family home, which aligns with the train motif as an ambiguous symbol of escape. As he makes his way to the kiln, holding a symbol of home to his heart, he stumbles, suggesting that whether his escape will be by death or a trip north is yet to be determined.

“Suddenly a thought came to him like a blow. He recalled hearing the old folks tell tales of blood-hounds, and fear made him run slower. None of them had thought of that. Spose blood-hours wuz put on his trail? Lawd! Spose a whole pack of em, foamin n howlin, tore im t pieces? He went limp and his feet dragged. Yeah, thas whut they wuz gonna send after im, blood-houns! N then thered be no way fer im t dodge! Why hadnt Pa let im take the shotgun? He stopped. He oughta go back n git the shotgun. And then when the mob came he would take some with him.”

This is the first time that the narrative shifts into Big Boy’s internal monologue, seamlessly moving between the narrator’s and protagonist’s voices within the same paragraph. Here, Big Boy realizes what he’s up against and has a fantasy of at least being able to kill some of his pursuers before he’s killed, illustrating his mind frame of violent retribution. The fact that Saul does not give Big Boy the gun suggests that he has a different perspective.

“He had to kill this snake. Jus had t kill im! […] He fought viciously, his eyes red, his teeth bared in a snarl.”

This quote describes Big Boy in animal-like terms as he struggles with the snake. The “snarl” evokes the bloodhounds that are about to chase him, including the one he will have to kill in his third deadly encounter of the day.

“The train made him remember how they had dug these kilns on long hot summer days, how they had made boilers out of big tin cans, filled them with water, fixed stoppers for steam, cemented them in holes with wet clay, and built fires under them. He recalled how they had danced and yelled when a stopper blew out of a boiler, letting out a big spout of steam and a shrill whistle. There were times when they had the whole hillside blazing and smoking. Yeah, yuh see, Big Boy wuz Casey Jones n wuz speedin it down the gleamin rails of the Southern Pacific. Bobo had number two on the Santa Fe. Buck wuz on the Illinoy Central. Lester the Nickel Plate. Lawd, how they sheveled the wood in!”

This anecdote is a flashback to a week before. His friends’ spirited, imagination-laced work on the kiln fires is juxtaposed with the nightmarish fire of the lynch mob Big Boy is about to witness. Casey Jones—with whom Big Boy identifies—is an allusion to a white railroad engineer who was famous for speeding. He became a folk hero after his death in a train crash was memorialized in a ballad written by African American railroad worker Wallace Saunders. The crash was due to Jones’s recklessness (speeding to make up time), but he showed heroism in the face of his death.

“[H]e wished he hadnt socked ol Buck so hard the day. He wuz sorry fer Buck now. N he sho wished he hadnt cussed po ol Bucks ma, neither. Tha wuz sinful! Mabbe Gawd would git im fer that? But he didnt go t do it! Po Buck! Po Lesterl Hed never treat anybody like the ergin, never…”

This passage represents Big Boy’s internal monologue as he is hiding in the kiln that he and his friends dug the previous week. The regret he feels about his harsh treatment of his friends marks a moment of epiphany and character development. The realization that he should have been less antagonistic with his friends also represents a growing consciousness that there needs to be solidarity among all those in his community. There is a turn away from the sorts of everyday forms of violence against one another that were part of Big Boy’s enculturation as a boy.

“We’ll hang ever n----- t a sour apple tree…”

This is the chorus of a song that is being sung by the gathering mob, with both men and women joining in until the song is “round and full” (55). The line is drawn from a popular tune in the South from the early 20th century. It was sung to the tune of “John Brown’s Body,” a marching song sung by Union soldiers during the Civil War about an abolitionist who tried to lead a volunteer army to overthrow slavery. This brutally racist parody of the original signals the mobs’ intent to violently suppress all rebellions.

“‘LES GIT SOURVINEERS!’ […]

‘Everybody git back!’

‘Look! Hes gotta finger!’

‘C MON! GIT THE GALS BACK FROM THE FIRE!’

‘Hes got one of his ears, see?’”

Wright represents the white mob as a bunch of undifferentiated vernacular voices. Some of the lines of dialogue appear in all capital letters, suggesting these lines are louder than the others. In this passage, there is a seemingly bizarre disjuncture between the excitement about lynching and maiming Bobo and the chivalry expressed in protecting the women from harm. It suggests that racial violence fundamentally undergirds the polite patriarchal society of the rural South. This passage also emphasizes the dehumanization of racism, as Bobo’s body is dismembered for souvenirs.

“Big Boy slid back into the hole, his face buried in clay. He had no feelings now, no fears. He was numb, empty, as though all blood had been drawn from him. Then his muscles flexed taut when he heard a faint patter. A tiny stream of cold water seeped to his knees, making him push back to a drier spot. He looked up; rain was beating in the grass.”

Big Boy has just become resigned to his fate when the random chance of nature suddenly tips in his favor. The rain—which drives the white mob indoors—functions like a “deus ex machina,” that is, a plot device that saves Big Boy from the mob.