ZZ Packer’s “Dayward”

From The New Yorker's archive: a short story about the flight of a freed teen-age slave and his deaf sister from their former owner.  ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌   View in browser | Update your preferences     20 Under 40 Fiction "Dayward" "It was one thing to be chased by hounds as a runaway slave, and another thing entirely to be a runaway once free." By ZZ Packer The short-story writer and journalist ZZ Packer renders the complexities of history with skill and poignancy. Since she published her first piece in The New Yorker, in 2000, she has demonstrated a singular range, contributing short stories, essays on Breonna Taylor and John Updike, and a pair of humor pieces that responded to the degradations of the Trump era. Much of her work evocatively explores themes of loss, transmutation, and rebirth. In 2010, Packer published "Dayward," a short story about the flight of a freed teen-age slave named Lazarus and his deaf sister from their former owner. Set in the period after emancipation, the tale follows the pair as they desperately seek to evade the ferocious hounds that have been set after them. During their escape, Lazarus ruminates on their previous lives. "His father, who'd run off not once, or twice, but three times, had heard tell of a man in Missouri who'd had no river or brook or stream water to plash through to cover his scent; instead, he wrapped some homespun from his shirt round his hand and rammed it down a dog's throat to choke it," Packer writes. "The mutt had left the hand nothing but blood and gristle, healed over with a few blond whiskers poking through, but the man would hold up his stump with pride, testifying, 'My hand's back in slavery, but the rest of me's free, by God. The rest a me's free.' " The author grounds her tale in accounts of survival and trauma passed down through generations. Lazarus is haunted by memories that resonate with as much psychological and emotional menace as the animals pursuing them. As we follow the flight of the protagonists, we're never far removed from the immeasurable pull of the past. Packer writes with lyrical clarity about the nightmarish realities of slavery and their bleak legacy. Her story becomes a tale about the ghosts we cannot escape—no matter how far we run.   —Erin Overbey, archive editor More from the Archive     Cultural Comment The Empty Facts of the Breonna Taylor Decision From 2020: There's a lot that is god-awful wrong with the grand-jury decision in the death of Breonna Taylor, not least what the state attorney general, Daniel Cameron, omitted. By ZZ Packer     Fiction "Cell One" From 2007: "This was the season of thefts on our serene campus." By Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie You're receiving this e-mail because you signed up for the New Yorker Classics newsletter. Was this e-mail forwarded to you? Sign up.   Unsubscribe | Manage your e-mail preferences | Send newsletter feedback | View our privacy policy    The New Yorker may earn a portion of sales from products and services that are purchased through links in our newsletters as part of our affiliate partnerships with retailers.    Copyright © Condé Nast 2021. One World Trade Center, New York, NY 10007. All rights reserved.