CARRIMEBAC, THE TOWN THAT WALKED

A town of prospering Black folks magically uproots itself.

When Rootilla Redgums, who claims to be nearly 100 years old, moves to Walkerton, Georgia, with her 9-year-old, old soul of a grandson, Julius Jefferson, her wizened appearance and powerful aura cause a stir among the townspeople. They aren’t quite sure what to make of the odd pair, but Rootilla soon wins them over. She teaches them to make homemade goods that draw White buyers from the surrounding towns, and Walkerton, once full of misery, begins to thrive. Rootilla’s handiworks possess unique powers—they are carpets that never wear down, jugs that never empty, and walking sticks “that somehow never got you lost in the woods.” Convinced that Walkerton’s Black residents are practicing witchcraft, a mob of White people attack but are no match for Rootilla’s magic. At her behest, the town—which Julius renames Carrimebac—is literally carried away, leaving only a lake to mark where Walkerton once stood. Each page turn brings fresh delights via the engaging acrylic paintings that create drama through the use of various perspectives. On some spreads, characters look directly at the viewer, as if inviting interaction. While the premise is compelling, the narrative is not cohesive; some character connections are confusing, and the use of the euphemism “Fearful Folks” to refer to white-hooded, torch-bearing figures emphasizes their unfounded fears of Black folks instead of the terror they inflict because of their hate.

A tall tale that doesn’t quite measure up.