two mistakes

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Two Mistakes by Martin Hill Ortiz as adapted from The Comedy of Errors Curst be he that moves my bones. —Epithet: the grave marker of William Shakespeare Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones. Henry V, Act IV, Scene III

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by Dr. Martin Hill Ortiz

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  • Two Mistakes

    by Martin Hill Ortiz

    as adapted from The Comedy of Errors

    Curst be he that moves my bones. Epithet: the grave marker of William Shakespeare Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones. Henry V, Act IV, Scene III

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    Two Mistakes

    Act I Scene I. Louisville, Kentucky, 1825. The remorseless Ohio holds sad tales within. This river divided the south from the north. As a border, its edge was exceedingly thin. A serrated blade, its teeth sliced back and forth Cleaving brother from brother and free-born from slave. Its crossing became for those fleeing their chains Their passage to freedom or watery grave. The Louisville settlement grew on a fault At a crack where the river broke over cascades. A boisterous town where the boats came to halt And where dealers and hawkers came plying their trades. Whatever the merchandise, they could deliver: Tobacco or coalor a cargo of souls To be bought for the fields or else sold down the river. My story today tells of two sets of twins With each sibling a copy of mirrored perfection. While their sameness ran only as deep as their skins Still it led to mistakes, misdirected affections, Other errors and terrors, identities hidden; All setting in motion a mass of emotions Of family love and of loves more forbidden. On the fifteenth of March in her family manse Mrs. Mamie Lou Sharper gave birth to twin daughters. A believer in fates and the harsh whims of chance, She summoned her sibyl to augur the waters, Who dropped stones in a chalice then counted their ripples. Mamie's eyes turned to flames as her seeress proclaimed, "I read bubbles in doubles and ripples in triples.

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    "Your daughters are cloaked in a dark veil of gloom; You must keep their names stitched to the clothing they wear Or else Annie and Frances will meet with their doom. Say you'll contract a seamstress." She made Mamie swear. Claude Sharper, her husband, said, "Dearie, be brave." But, because of her nerves, to protect and to serve, As a gift for his daughters he purchased twin slaves. Identical brothers were bought from their crib, A couple of newborns to raise with their masters. "They were orphans," Claude claimed, as a glib sort of fib. While Mamie, with tears, spun a tale that was vaster, "We found Remmy and Anthony Cobb in a swamp. Claude rescued the pair from a bear in her lair Whom he shot through the heart while her jaws were mid-chomp!" But Nerissa, their mother, had no time to weep. She shadowed her sons to determine their owner. Once back at her station she vowed she'd not sleep. As a plan she kept hidden from all those who'd known her: At night she'd make whatnots to set on a shelf Which she'd sell to her neighbors. With funds from her labors She would purchase her children and purchase herself.

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    Scene II. A Steamboat on the Ohio, 1826. Spring's thaw arrived early, the river had brimmed Having drunk from the melt of an ocean of snow. The northern bound waterfowl swooped as they skimmed Its cool surface while fishing lines plundered below. Bands of picnickers trekked to the forest to feed, And, in spite of their doubts, newborn goldenrods sprouted; The sun, insincere, fooled both human and seed. The Steamboat Sebastian punished the water, Its paddlewheel slapping the face of the stream. Down below, its wood furnace grew hotter and hotter While above its steam whistle unleashed a fierce scream. On the sightseers deck the excursionists huddled As a whipping wind taunted their afternoon jaunt. A rain fell in pellets which splattered and puddled. The thunderclouds glowered; the wind became frisky. Claude sensed a foreboding, his face couldn't mask it. He borrowed some nerve from a flask full of whiskey Then seized hold of his twins in their wickerwork basket. His wife clung to their bundled-up one-year-old slaves. They ducked under an awning. A freshet came spawning A surge in the stream; the boat crested a wave. The tumbling down heavens transformed into sleet. Claude swallowed his dread with a mouthful of liquor. The time passed as slow as a lullaby's beat. Claude choked on the air, his each breath feeling thicker. The steam pistons struggled, their elbow joints lurching. The captain at helm paced while prowling his realm With his scowling brow furrowed, his scanning eyes searching For a cove in the river to harbor his ship But the rain fell as blindingly thick as a veil. Claude upended his flask to collect one last sip. The slush of the sleet became bullets of hail. The steam engine groaned as it fought with the torrent. As they swept toward land, the scared captain demanded More force from his boilersand signed his death warrant.

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    It would never have burst were it tough as Old Hans: If the boiler 'd been forged from the flesh of its stoker. A hulk of a giant with brawn cast from bronze, His two hands vast as shovels, his fingers like pokers. But the steam pipes were brittle, their knuckles corroded. With a blast of hot steam a bolt ripped from a seam. The pressure increased and then soon overloaded. Hans placed on the face of a twelve-year-old crewman His oversized hand to protect the boy's eyes From the blistering steam. With a will superhuman, He shielded the child from a hellish demise. In a flash the pooled water erupted as vapor. With its charge fully loaded, the boiler exploded, Steel tearing through timber as though it was paper. Its volley resounded and rattled the skull. In the wreck of the wheelhouse the captain lay, bleeding. The decks had been shattered and so had the hull. In their frenzy, the passengers started stampeding. Their shoving and crashing spun Claude in a whirl. He stumbled and tripped, then he fumbled his grip On the bassinet holding his twin baby girls. Somewhere out in the crowd, beyond dimness and din, Claude's babies were lost. He felt growing frustration As though beating a door he could never break in. He called, "Annie? Please? Frances?" in frank desperation. Mamie clung to her slaves as she scooped up one daughter. A brother slave criedMamie set him aside To seize hold of her twinbut before Mamie got her The ship mounted a rock. Mamie fell in the river With Annie and Anthony clutched to her chest. Claude dove to her aid. They arose with a shiver. Mamie fought to return. With what strength he possessed Claude swam hauling his wife and the children she saved. Arriving on land, he collapsed in the sand Where, heaving with sobs, Mamie bellowed and raved.

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    By the boiler fierce geysers erupted and sputtered Hans strove to escape, the steam scalding his arms, Searing nearly as much as the curses he uttered. Soon, blistered and blinded, he heard the alarms Of two babies who wailed beyond screaming and splashes. He bore Remmy and Frances through unlit expanses To a tin tub he used to collect furnace ashes. Hans guided the tub through the inrushing flood To a gap in the hull where he sent off the ark. With his stamina spent and his blood thick as mud, With his scorched eyes unblinking, alone in the dark, Hans couldn't swim free, he'd been snagged by some rigging. He mused as his troubles expired with his bubbles: When your grave is the river, it saves on the digging. With the hailstorm the heavens had frozen and shattered. The survivors were battered by pellets of ice. They were soaked-through and tremblingbut none of that mattered. Who had lived and who died seemed a mere roll of dice. When the last smokestack sank, amid belching and hissing, Those on shore counted heads. The next day's headline read: The River Claims 24 Dead Or Else Missing.

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    Scene III. Down the Ohio to Indiana. Enduring a rite that was grimly baptismal The two in the tub got a rude sort of christening. Struck by hail and cold showers, their prospects seemed dismal. As their tub filled they cried out, but who would be listening? Cheating death, born again, and now back where they started To be drowned in their font as though hope were a taunt. When their fortunes looked bleakest at last the clouds parted. North from South was a distance as broad as the sea And as fine as the stroke of a pen in a law. If they swept to the north, the slave child would be free, While the southern shore waited with wide-open maw. Like a compass whose needle was lost in a spin They were drawn to each shore, towards liberty or A slave's life in a prison the color of skin. The river, unwilling to choose between sides, Sent the ark ever westward, their fates undecided. To the river, it mattered not whether they died. It remained apathetic to lands it divided; South and slave, or reverse, it refused the selection. And, if up turned to down? then the children would drown. What a terrible burden to be a direction! ... When, at sunset, Demetrius gazed at the river An arrow of silver got lodged in his eye. Flecks of light on the water had emptied their quiver There was something unusual passing nearby: A bright sparkling bauble, some object was bobbing. As the sunlight was fading, he found himself wading To capture the basin. Its contents were sobbing. The tub bore a handprint of Hans' skin and blood The size of a pitchfork with long streaking prongs From the moment the vessel was launched in the flood. Demetrius sensed some lamentable wrong. "What foul incident passed, these two doubtless are blameless." Their wet covers unwound, he examined the foundlings. The girl's clothing read "Frances," the boy was left nameless.

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    Now, Demetrius Darling in years, numbered forty, His homestead in Troy totaled fifty-plus acres. Solemn, stout and devout, all his friends called him "Shorty." Both he and wife, Esther, were practicing Quakers. When he brought to his wife the two babies he'd saved The same thought filled their heads. It was Esther who said it, "This young boy who you found, he just might be a slave." This Demetrius, he was a great manor almost He had one or two failings, we'll get to those later. In most mattersserenebut what riled up his gall most Was the selling of humans, no sin could be greater. His heart heavy, he pondered the fate of this babe: I could grant him our name but will some kinsfolk claim him? His choice was first voiced by his lanky friend Abe. Abe weighed out each word as he carved on a spud, "So you hunt down their story with eyes wide and starry, But let's say that pale child holds a drop of slave blood. When they herd them away, you'll say, 'Gosh, but I'm sorry?' If a wound is still bleeding words make a poor dressing. Don't be a woodenhead, keep the two pudden-heads, And welcome this boon as a sign of God's blessing. "No mere bluster of fate brought these two to your care. You can fight the Lord's plan or surrender and yield. You've been childless but hold a great bounty to share. You must act as providers, protectors and shield While concealing the record of how they steered here. Whether slave-born or freeborn these two have been reborn. From now on, they are yours and your mission is clear." Their town, Troy, Indiana, was settled by farmers Steeped in faith and in stubbornness, not in that order. Defiant and brave, they wore mettle for armor. They had seen their fair share of those crossing the border, Escaped slaves, nearly drowned, who had washed up on shore. The Trojans mixed kindness with just enough blindness. They kept many secrets, so why not two more?

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    Scene IV. Troy, Indiana, 1846. When came time, Moses Darling was told he'd been named As a babe for his father, an Evansville wheelwright. Both his parents died young, so Demetrius claimed. Moses heard all of this but it just didn't feel right. Friends and neighbors knew better. With hushed tones and smiles They whispered the truth of this ebony youth He was named for the Moses plucked out of the Nile. He grew solid and strong over twenty-one years. He was honest and smartthough a little nave. He was slick with some card tricks amazing his peers. He struggled with faith as he strained to believe. At sunsets he'd ponder the river's expanses. With the light and shade shifting he found himself drifting What kept him afloat was his father and Frances. Frances Darling believed she was truly the daughter Of Shorty and Esther (her now-deceased mother). Boys would drown in the pools of her eyes' crystal waters. While some suitors were struck by her beauty, still others Were struck by her knuckles when punched left and right. She'd transform minor frays into major melees Throwing elbows and blows and, when losing, she'd bite. She had chipped her front tooth on a ring on the finger Of Junie Mae Sperry who'd stolen her beau. Junie launched her a shiner, one vivid humdinger. When the bashing was done she turned bashful and so, From that moment and hence, Frances kept her teeth hidden With a firmly creased smile which belied any guile. She leaked whistles whenever she laughedso she didn't. ... All the Trojans turned out for The Midsummer Rollicks: Festivities, games and a bit of tomfoolery. Both Moses and Frances arrived for the frolics. There, too, appeared Junie in munched-upon jewelry And Leon, her beau, who stacked bricks in the bins Of handcarts until they were ready and filled. The Wheelbarrow Derby was set to begin.

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    The fidgeting racers adjusted their grips While awaiting their signal, a plume of white smoke. They would dash to the river, a harrowing trip: First weaving by trees, poisoned ivy and oak To the brink of a bluff, daring trails ever rougher Staying poised on the ledge as they traced the cliff's edge And, if that weren't enough, there was still more to suffer. With what nerve they could coax they'd plunge down a steep scarp. After plowing through sand, passing brambles, they'd end By dumping their bricks on the top of a tarp. Both Leon and Moses were set to contend. Junie squinted at Frances: her eyes became pips. Frances nodded, said "Hey," strained a closed smile her way. Junie peeled back a grin showing wide open lips. Frances mouthed silent curse words. Which ones? Who could guess? Junie answered, "Oh my! What done slunk from the swamp? Ain't no lady. Seems more like some toad in a dress. Or a dragged-up-from-hell-cat gone putting on pomp." She advanced on her foe so they matched toe to toe. Frances whipped back her hair, curled her fists and declared, "I'm most ladylike. Most like no lady you know." "You'se a prize," Junie snapped. "Like my blue-ribbon pig. Why, weighed 'cross from my sow you'd go tipping the scales." Frances twisted a sneer, saying, "Dear, you're so big When you'd squat on those scales we'd all watch your sow sail!" "You'se just bitter 'cause Leon is mine now, now ain't he?" Junie said. Seeming bent on a battle, she went on, "I is lighter than straw, I can prove I is dainty." With a hop Junie roosted atop Leon's bricks In the bin of his wheelbarrow, ready to race. Frances wouldn't concede. She said, "Hell's fiddlesticks! I'm twice lighter than you'll ever be." She then placed Herself square in the middle of Moses's cart. Soon each challenger's bin held a sweetheart within. With this fuss no one heeded the signal to start

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    Except Leon who noticed the billow of smoke And broke from the pack, taking off with a blast. Moses lurched to a stopa stick stuck in his spokes. It was sabotage, clearly. When rolling at last All the others already had passed from his view. He hastily sped to the woods up ahead Into deep ruts of mud. He and Frances trudged through. Junie plucked up some flowers to wear as a laurel. She waved from her perch like a queen on her throne. The two, thicker than thieves, were not nearly as moral. Leon sensed he would lose by relying alone On his talent and speed. He could runto be candid, He ran hot and cold. So, in order to hold A firm upper hand he would act underhanded. Leon forged a new path passing cypress and scrubs Down a shortcut while Junie beat open their trail By bending back branches and parting the shrubs. A competitor followed them, hot on their tail. Junie thought, How unfair! He should clear his own road. Telling Leon to duck, a limb whipped back and struck The pilot pursuing them, flipping his load. Meanwhile, whisking by wheelbarrows, passengers, pilots, The pair, Moses and Frances, careened between columns Of tree trunks. They threaded the narrowest eyelets Making last moment swerves in a tortuous slalom. They barreled down slopes then, in rapid ascension, Flew up over the crests. It appeared effortless. Although starting out last they fought back in contention. Two carts vied for the lead on the left and right flanks Of Leon. They crushed him, a heavyweight squeeze. With their bricks and their passengers each was a tank. Junie's turret glare swivelled one-eighty degrees. A dilemma ahead sparked a furious dash. Without space between trees for the passing of three The middle stayed safe while the other two crashed.

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    Teams burst out of bushes with flurries of leaves With Leon and Junie still leading the pack. Others trailed behind, close, but, with tricks up her sleeves, Junie welcomed all challengers, braced to attack. She turned in her seat to face those who would pass, Hurling bricks at the wheels of those nipping their heels Upending their carts as they spilled in the grass. Advancing and fast, Moses broke from the forest; His drive was obsessive, his every bone aching, If not quite the fastest, then surely the sorest. Passing keeled-over carts, he was soon overtaking One and all, save the leaders. Ahead, soon enough Were their number one foes. Frances lifted her nose. They ran up beside them alongside the bluff. Leon greeted them rudely with jolts, swift and stiff, Intending to ram their cart over the brink. Frances strained to peek down at the base of the cliff A dizzying drop-off. She felt her heart sink. Moses swerved, shoving hard, their two metal bins mashing. Using his cart as a wedge, he fought back from the edge. Junie tried to slap Frances, her arms wildly thrashing. Moses jumped in the lead, took a sidelong collision And was flung to the fringe of a murderous plunge. Not a moment to spare, Moses made the decision To leap to his side in a daredevil lunge. Then, jerking the handles, they whirled in a spin. With this dangerous stunt, the two moved out in front. That harpy, thought Junie, I won't let her win. With the growl of a lynx and the strike of a spider Junie pounced from her wheelbarrow landing on Frances. Moses skidded and stalled with the weight of two riders. Quickly, Leon made use of the new circumstances: Leaving Junie behind him, he barreled ahead And arrived where the route tumbled down a steep chute. He charged over the edge as he swallowed his dread.

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    Feeling raw and depleted, enraged and mistreated, Moses stood there, immobile. The two women fought. Still, this race isn't over, I'm not yet defeated. He weighed out his optionshe still had one shot. Ahead, Leon had taken a much safer track. Moses clung to a hope: he could slide down the slope. He dipped over the cliff, there was no holding back. He was no longer driving, his cart seized control, It was dragging the three of them down the steep bank. His feet struggled to match the wheel's quickening roll. The women stopped fighting, their faces turned blank Stretched as thin as their screams. Their lives passed in a flash. They were seemingly free-falling, launched with the scree falling, Merely rocks in an avalanche, set for a crash. When they bucked on a bump, Moses started to fly. By clutching the handles he stopped short of flipping. He was plummeting headlong, feet kicking the sky, His legs flapped in the air with his whole body whipping. He felt like a numskull for taking this gamble. As they landed they pushed their way through a tall bush Then were tossed in the thorns of the riverside brambles. Frances found herself airborne then tasting the sand. She took stock to make certain no pieces were lost. She staggered to Moses extending her hand Whom she helped to his feet. His two eyes were criss-crossed. He woozily wobbled, a teetering tilt. His mouth was agape. His gaze locked on a shape: A rusted tin tub partly buried in silt. As he knelt by the spot with the handprint's long streaks A stark apparition rose up from the thorns Junie. Trying to shriek, Junie cheeped tiny squeaks. Her hair muddied and twisted with spikes like twin horns, Her head bowing low, she glared up from below, Her face grated with scratches and scrapes in cross-hatches, Her anger was molten and ready to blow.

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    She exclaimed, "Lookie here, who's got tossed in the briars. It's just fitting you losers wound up in the weeds. You was raised by a man who's a coward and liar. This is where you was hatched and it's where your kind breeds. You squirmed out from the earth like some stink-beetle grubs. Oh, why do I bother? That joke you call father Can tell you the secret behind the tin tub. "All them know 'cept for you." Her last words echoed true Frances frowned, Moses shudderedthe damage was done. They were never aware and yet always they knew. Moses limped to the finish to find he had won After Leon was judged some bricks shy of a load. First place? Who even cared? Moses barely felt there With his thoughts racing home down a lonesome farm road.

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    Act II Scene I. Louisville. A Parlor in the Sharper Family Mansion. The gentleman caller passed time in the parlor A chamber of tortures designed to unnerve Stared down by a hound they called Marlowe the Snarler While beneath the seat cushion a bedwarmer served To make the boy sweat as he sat on a chair Set as low as a curb. Also there to perturb Was the sun in his eyes, its light bright as a flare. From the depths of a shadow came sinister chuckles. An eclipse appeared, its form blotting the sun With the bulk of a bear. It stood cracking its knuckles. Tucked under its belt was the shape of a gun. The boy would have sworn he'd be last to feel spooked But these tactics were daunting and worse than that, haunting. Claude Sharper spoke gruffly, "You're clearly no duke." "Um...no, sir. I'm not," the boy's nervous reply. "I work hard as a tanner. For nigh on a year, I've courted your daughter. With tricks you may try To rattle me, sir. There's but one thing I fear: If Annie declared I have passed from her favor." Claude replayed his rebuke, "I maintain you're no duke, Just a whiskerless youngster, not even a shaver. "My daughter deserves an exceptional match Whose station bestows the prestige of a title. Someone lordly and cultured, a superior catch Not a clinging young boysomeone less parasital. Your passionate pleas merely serve to bedevil. You possess a capacity for shameless audacity. You ought to find someone more fitting your level. "Like in tales by the Grimms when the ballroom had cleared While my princess was heeding the call of the chimes A patrician of stature and peerage appeared. By God's grace we're alive in such opportune times! You will care for my daughter with hard work and talent? When a man is nobility he needs no abilities, He reeks with a rank that's both regal and gallant.

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    "Buttons Bellamy, Viscount, a purebred Virginian, A man of refinement, the bluest of bloods. But my hymns are much more than some random opinion, He's awash in endorsements, a virtual flood: All assert he is princely, high-minded, complete With intrigue and romance. With such praise in advance Imagine the awe when we finally meet. "He's fought twenty-one duels just losing his nose. And a score of those foes never dared to appear!" "You must stop, sir, no more!" the young suitor arose. "There's one party alone with a voice I hold dear. Only Annie can say if our flame has gone dim." With a creak of a hinge Annie peeked in and whinged, Saying, "Daddy, you promised you'd get rid of him!"

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    Scene II. An Office in the Mansion. That Afternoon. A cloud grew in her eyes from the day of the storm That stole her son, Remmy, and half of her heart. With her vision now dim her lithe fingertips swarmed Over slubs in the yarn of her needlework art. As she lifted her knitting to bring its haze nearer Her son's blurred silhouette turned Nerissa's eyes wet. With tears acting as lenses her vision grew clearer. She had lived by the rules, she believed in them deeply: She remained with her owners not running away. And now, nearly blind, she had bought herself cheaply. She was free but enfeebled with nowhere to stay. She had set aside money to purchase her son. And, if they wouldn't sell him, she swore she'd compel him To flee from his masters and go on the run. So she cried. Her son, Anthony, sat by her side While they waited for Mamie who managed affairs For the family manse. At first, Anthony tried To be patient. He lied to himself, "No one cares That I's late to my station." The humble and snooty All those in line passedalthough first, he'd be last. Then come dusk or come midnight he'd finish his duties. Mamie Sharper's sharp features reflected off cherrywood, Her desktop. (Its waxing was Anthony's task.) It seemed to keep flames trapped inside of its very wood. The matron inquired, "You've a favor to ask?" "Yes'm," Anthony nodded. "You sees here my mother." Not deigning to look, Mamie's head slightly shook. "She's only gots me, ma'am, we lost my twin brother. "As you know." "As I know," Mamie echoed. "My Frances... You're not mostly to blame for the loss of my daughter. Claude was foolish to take such precarious chances, Then he made a poor choice with the rise of the waters. So...this mammy's your mommy? Please, drop the pretense. You know Claude always said that your mother is dead Such a bold contradiction is quite the offense."

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    "My aunt," Anthony said, "set here, is needing my care. I can buy myself free, we gots six hunderds saved. Or she'll work for her eats. If you needs more I swear..." Mamie broke in, "My dear, you're not only our slave. You'd leave Annie forlorn, you're her most prized possession. You'll always be hers. This sad fancy of yours, Speak no more of such rot! I'll forgive this transgression. "Your desire to be free shows a clear displaced loyalty. It distresses me, Anthony. Think of our feelings! And yet...Annie's betrothed to a member of royalty. The new head of her home will take charge of such dealings. He'll consider your case with emotions less biased. If his servants suffice, he can ponder your price And might sell your release if your bid is the highest. "But your aunt? I take care of my household alone, So why provide food and a roof to a stranger? I parcel my kindness to those that I own. Funding sloth with one's alms is a grave public danger. Still the Bible instructs me to treat all as neighbors, Even children of Ham. What a soft touch I am! She can stay in the shed in exchange for her labors."

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    Scene III. The Main Sitting Room, Evening. For a moment in childhood they seemed to be friends. She said, "Tell them we're twins in case anyone asks." But soon Annie and Anthony couldn't pretend, They traded their closeness for more adult masks Replacing thrilled faces with stony expressions, A joyless conclusion that left no illusions Of whom was the owner and whom the possession. It all changed the day Annie fell out of a tree And eight-year-old Anthony rushed to her aid. As he helped her limp homewards the child didn't see Those observing his journey. He passed unafraid Before rowdies who seethed as they watched his dark paws With impudent surety mauling her purity. The boys began clapping in caustic applause. When came night they jumped Anthony leaving him bruised, His injuries kept him in bed for a week. "There is no one to blame here," Claude summed up, amused. "With our Negro displaying an ignorant streak While the white boys refrained from too drastic a violence. The matter is closed." What hurt Anthony most Was the way in which Annie consented with silence. ... Weary, Anthony set to his side his whisk broom Then started to polish the ivory keys Of the baby grand set in the main sitting room. Annie sat on a bench wearing cotton chemise. She read aloud Thackeray kissing the words As they formed on her lips. With a sweep of the tip Of her finger the lines on the pages were stirred. Each key thumped as he rubbed in a smudge of beeswax. He began at the bass end, the throatier notes. Tensions peaked then released as he scaled whites and blacks. Bitter tones were relieved by their sweet antidotes. There were candle snuff notes that could put out a flame. Some delivered a shiver without a deliverance. There were notes for emotions that no one could name.

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    Without breaking her rhythm she switched from her book To her grievances, "Dare and the world always yields? I'm just property." Anthony shot her a look. "To daddy, I'm merely some crop from his fields. To be bartered for status. He'll rue my departure. I'll be free once I marry this big dignitary, He's a viscountthat's like an archduke, only archer. "Yes'm," Anthony said, hammers pounding their strings. "He owns his own vineyards and label of wine." "Yes'm." Anthony felt every sharp leave a sting. "Don't you fret, you and Marlowe will always be mine." "Yes'm." Notes were steep steps on his way to the gallows. Once the last key was beat, his ascension complete, The piano lid dropped with a jolt swift and shallow. "I see Frances," she said, "when I sit at the mirror With my face pressed up close and I glance to one side. She is trying to speak. I'm unable to hear her. She's trapped with the pain she endured when she died. The next instant she's smiling and I begin frowning, Exchanging our faces, then soon trading places, So that she's at the mirror while I'm the one drowning. "To my mother, I'm always one half of a twin Or that cut-in-two kid from King Solomon's court. I survivedthat alone was the greatest of sins." He reached for her neck with his hands stopping short Of choking or stroking, he couldn't decide. He let passions foment. When the moment was spent He squeezed her hand gently. She quietly cried.

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    Scene IV. Troy. The Dining Room of the Darling Family Home. Demetrius Darling was quite nearly great: He was tolerant, kind and at peace with his neighbors. He believed it was greed that provoked men to hate When they envied rewards beyond those of their labors. A quick peek underneath his ideals would reveal His high-minded conceits helped disguise self-deceit. He advised the man waiting, "Just shut up and deal!" That man, Al Carbonne, wore a top hat and frown The latter so creased it seemed carved on his face. He had streaking burn marks from his cheekbones to crown. They played three-card brag with stakes growing apace. Down a thousand, Demetrius placed larger bets To fight a sensation of pitched desperation, Certain double-or-nothing would wipe clear his debts. Shorty never intended to join in the betting. With a riverboat trapped on a sandbar he deemed It his duty to offer a sociable setting His hometo those waiting while crew members teamed To jolt the boat free. As Demetrius pondered The odd game that they played with the sums that it paid. He was sure he could take a small piece that they squandered. With another loss tallied, Demetrius quit. An Englishman offered his hand. "Call me Sam," He said, smiling. "I've studied Carbonne. I submit He's a swindler and bounder. His game is a scam. Let's make certain he's served the deserts he is meet. You can win back your tuppence and bring him comeuppance One more double-or-nothing. I'll help you to cheat." Shorty scolded himself. Just how far have I fallen? His dabbling with sinfulness left him near broke. He agreed with the Englishman: Time to go all in. It's not wrong to want out. I was bilked and provoked! One more hand to get even and free of these straits. "Okay," Shorty said. Sam whispered, dipping his head, "I'll slip you three nines. He'll be holding three eights."

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    Shorty laid down the challenge, "I'll go one more round But for fairness let's find us a dealer less partial, A judge and enforcer whose scruples are sound." "Perhaps I can help," offered Sam. "I'll play marshal." Al nodded agreement. Sam shuffled the pack, Made some cuts quick and varied, the top card he buried, Then he spat out six cards as Al fingered his stack. Shorty peeked at three nines, felt relief and some grief. He locked eyes with Carbonne while attempting to wrestle The reason his foe was a cheat and a thief, But all Shorty could see was a near-empty vessel. He was met by a gaze that seemed lifeless and cold. Shorty broke from the stare, wrote a note and declared, "What I've lost and then double. Four thousand all told." Al pulled out his pistol "to give it a breather." It lay guarding his cards. He exclaimed, "Now, I'm sure You're as good as your word is and that ain't good neither. You'll need more than your scrip if you aim to secure So audacious a pledge. You're obliged to concede A bet of four grand ain't no shake of the hand. Let's see on this table your property deed." Shorty flexed up his cards to inspect them once more. Reassured, he excused himself, leaving the room. In his quarters he pried up a board from the floor. This feeling he felt: it was greed, it was doom. His world appeared pinched through a narrow-slit lens. Deed in hand, he returned, tried to act unconcerned As he flipped his three nines. Al turned over three tens. Shorty sprang to his feet his chair crashing behind him. Sam lunged in between them to keep them apart. Al flashed Shorty his pistol to gently remind him, Saying, "Lookie here, gramps, sure as hell this here smarts. I'll be holed up in Louisville all of next week And I'll hazard to bet this deed's worth twice your debt. Bring four thousand in cash if you're itching to speak."

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    The others departed, with Sam hanging back. "He caught on," he told Shorty, "and cheated one better. What he plans to do now is a sly sneak attack If you leave he'll file claim on your deed as his debtor. It's a trap. You stay put, I'll deliver your money." Shorty played the fool once but was far from a dunce, He sent Sam on his way with a sack full of gunny.

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    Scene V. In the Gloaming. In a wreckage of shadows, alone and alone, His soul crumbled to dust and then sifted through floorboards. Shorty hurtled his armchair to shatter his throne. Splinters scattered like seeds that could grow ever more boards. His life bound to a plow, his hands blistered and gritty, He'd spent no time obsessing or else second-guessing And steered clear of the poisonous charms of self-pity. Now, he wept at the thought he would soon lose this place, Shedding tears for the land where he buried his wife. He could only imagine the scorn on her face If she saw how he'd lost all he'd gained in his life. When Frances and Moses arrived, with a shiver He spilled out his heart. He began at the start, The evening he'd rescued the two from the river. For Moses, the Darlings bestowed him their name And allowed him to call them his father and mother, But for Frances these tidings extinguished a flame: These two were her world, she'd not known any other. She felt herself drowning, thrown back in the water, To sink and then vanish. This stranger had banished her From the place she called home, now not anyone's daughter. Still...this sad little man who sat crumpled and broken Had reared her from cradle, some twenty-odd years. What made up a father if not the unspoken Devotion he showed? His good works persevered And could not be erased by some trifling transgressions. He rescued her, lied to her, guided, misguided her Contradictions of love breeding love's indiscretions. Moses often spent eventides gazing, forlorn, At the bloody sun tumbling beyond his world's border Across the Ohioto where he was born Now he grasped why reality seemed out of order. All his life he had sensed he'd been living exiled. No longer subliminal: he was a criminal! A fugitive slave since his days as a child.

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    He thought he should think that his life had been shattered, He felt he should feel this betrayal as pain, But that wasn't his life, therefore none of it mattered. He was slave-born yet free, in deliriumsane. Like Demetrius/fathermere labels, both true. To the woeful man rambling of losses from gambling, With Frances, he asked, "Father, what can we do?" Their options seemed meager, the dangers abundant They could stay to prevent Al from filing the deed. But why function as one with their efforts redundant? Demetrius said, "The sole way to proceed, I must hunt down this villain to set my debts square. Son, Kentucky's no place for a man of your race And a maiden's not safe in this world anywhere." In most matters her father could shame a progressive He considered all men to be equals as brothers But for women he acted protective, possessive. Frances scoffed at these notions. If she had her druthers He'd concede she could lick any guy twice her size. She announced her own plan: she'd go dressed as a man. She'd prove her true nature by wearing disguise. Moses always considered the river malicious With its tortuous course like the turns of a screw. He now understood the Ohio was vicious: While only an infant it cleaved him in two. He sensed his next move and the quest he must brave. In order to be indivisibly free, He must face down his fears of his life as a slave. He and Frances would carry the cash to Carbonne While their father remained behind guarding the farm. Demetrius warned them, "Once off on your own, I won't be on hand to protect you from harm. You're of age to choose thus but I ask for your sakes, Once surrounded by dangers and threatening strangers Act as gentle as doves but as cunning as snakes.

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    "All those who keep slaves are committing two errors. When they try to change men into load-bearing creatures They begin an endeavor of large and small terrors. It's the essence of bondage, its damnable feature, That which hobbles a slave also cripples the master. Bound together in chains to a fate most profane, It destroys their two lives with concerted disaster. "To keep hostage men's souls demands more and more laws Each as crushing as stones grinding grist in their mills. It takes ever more force to impose their laws' flaws To make even one's marrow contort to their wills. A word poorly inflected? A smile misdirected? You can even be smitten by precepts unwritten. There's a thousand-odd snares these fine folks have erected."

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    Scene VI. Night. On a Parcel of Marshy Land Nearby the River. Peeking out from a shawl was a sliver of face Al Carbonne. His cloak mixed with the nothing of night; Its loose fringe stirred the stars in the dark ink of space. With a sharp stab of flame his lamp blossomed with light. His hat's brim a black halo when lit from beneath. Surveying the shoreline he grumbled and swore Then his lips stretched revealing the slash of his teeth. Being lured by his lantern, a johnboat drew near Passing shadowy spines where the reeds rose like quills. Sam shivered with cold or else trembled with fear: Carbonne's "Welcome!" delivered both species of chills. Sam stammered, "I'm sorry, I'm losing my touch. I've a sack full of gunny in place of our money. Your money. My share. Just a setback. Not much..." A brisk flick of Al's hand and Sam's sputtering halted. Al said, "Since you insist, I'll hold on to your share. Don't you quail, my dear friend, I don't need your wounds salted. You should always assume I'm aware and prepared. Two young Darlings are booked on the Louisville steamer. The old man stayed behind. Who cares who we rob blind?" My scheme is well-crafted as sound as its schemer." He tapped his pipe empty, reloaded and stuffed, Then set flame to its bowl of lobelia weed. "The lesson in this," he declared as he puffed, "To be gainfully greedy one must avoid greed. With more time to ferment our take doubles, quadruples. When they come for the deed I'll make certain they bleed. I've recruited two locals with less than no scruples."

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    Scene VII. Dawn. On a Riverboat Along the Ohio. The riverboat captain gazed out from his helm As the rising sun painted his pathway in gold. From the prow Moses pondered the slave owners' realm Uncertain what perils Kentucky would hold. His heart thumped in his chest with a sledgehammer's thud. The paddlewheel churned. Scores of breakfast fires burned, Adorning the shore like a necklace of blood. Frances sensed a foreboding, felt shivers of doom. As she looked to the sky dawn's grey faded away. Her lips puckered and pursed, her brow furrowed with gloom. The campfires were snuffed with the birth of the day. Meanwhile, Leon and Junie watched over their quarry From their perch near the stern. The boat, rounding a turn, Found the city of Louisville spread out in glory.

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    Act III Scene I. The Galt House, Louisville. Buttons Bellamy rode in a taxi cab carriage In his jaunt from the docks to the Galt House Hotel. As he peered out his window, he sneered and disparaged, "This malodorous hell with its overripe smell." His hand was disabled, its fist tightly closed. He kept this hand fit in an oversized mitt While a silver wedge covered the place of his nose. His nose cap convulsed with a rabbity twitch. He scratched at a space in the front of his face. He had suffered for years from a phantom nose itch Since, when set for a duel, contenders in place, His foe swooped up his sword to commence the dispute. Imperious, proud, Buttons nodded and bowed And then lopped off his nose when he matched the salute. Along with his nose cap he took home this moral: The opponents he faced were so clearly inferior, He must never again risk his life in a quarrel. From that moment thenceforth he was craftier, leerier. To stave off the chance of another mishap, Those he challenged to fight couldn't find the right site As he handed his enemies poorly drawn maps. When they failed to appear Buttons quickly claimed victory. He then fled from the place. As he later explained, "To seek honor from knaves is at best contradictory. It's most prudent to leave with my status unstained By the blood of rank rascals." These challenges met He prepared to confront any future affront With a five-chambered Colt set for Russian Roulette. Once his carriage arrived at the Galt House Hotel A young bellboy began to unload wooden trunks Each a hundred pounds weight. Buttons said as one fell Spilling bric-a-brac, bricks and unclassified junk, "By the books he has read one can judge a man's breed. I have lodged in these cases bricks saving the places Of classics I'll someday occasion to read."

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    Having hauled to the lobby a dozen-odd trunks The bellboy and cabbie requested their dues. Buttons jeered at them saying, "I scoff at your spunk, Your outrageous demands merely serve to amuse. Any ring on my fingers costs more than your cab! And I'll forfeit no quarters to impudent porters! I will tell the hotel you've a dime on my tab." The clerk tending the desk said, "We've no such arrangement. Guests pay in advance and they don't run a bill." "Is the whole of this townsfolk possessed with derangement?" Buttons cried while transmitting a glare that could kill. He enjoyed staring down at all those whom he loathed. "You'll bestow me respect once I've finished collecting The dowry which comes with my newly betrothed. "You've confused me, perhaps, with some no-account count. I'm a viscount, by my count, that betters an earl. I'm a wellspring of virtues, a virtual fount. As for proof of my wealth, gawp in awe at this girl!" He withdrew from a pouch and flipped open a locket So they clearly could see his revered bride-to-be: Annie Sharper. This done, she was stuffed in his pocket. With the point of his saber he snatched up a key From its place on a hook on the wall where it hung. "Your grand suite," Buttons stated, "is where I will be. But fair warning: clamp down on your slanderous tongues. By some jest you'd suggest there's a chance I'd not pay? You know whom you address? I've fought duels for less! Not one nickel in tips! Let me bid you good day!"

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    Scene II. Later. Wearing trousers, a frock coat, hair hidden in hat, Frances journeyed through Louisville dressed as a man. With her voice low and booming she grumbled and spat To appear gruff and tough. She and Moses began Inquiring at lodgings while seeking Carbonne. With its risk of mischances this errand thrilled Frances, She felt breathless and boldall her fears overblown. Meanwhile Moses conducted his own masquerade As a house servant dressed in a vest of green baize, A grey waistcoat and breeches. His manner conveyed A docile domestic. He felt every gaze, Even innocent glances, pierce sharper than lances. He was certain they judged his dark skin as some smudge. He dared not return stares, so instead looked to Frances. The pretenders arrived at the Galt House Hotel With Leon and Junie in dogged pursuit. Junie said, "Something smells and I know that smell well: It's that pitiful shrew with her ape-brother brute. They's some dodge they devised, all tricked out in disguise. We'll see who's fooling who, they'll be crushed when we's through. When the two have divided we'll launch a surprise." The doorman told Frances, "Your boy cannot enter Excepting you need him for some sort of chore." When she tried to proceed he stepped in to prevent her. So she had to leave Moses outside by the door. Buttons saw her and thought the resemblance uncanny To his dearly betrothed but in masculine clothes. If this man weren't a man then this man would be Annie. Buttons sighedhe loved womensuch heavenly creatures. Since his months in a cathouse in North Carolina He worshiped their tender and delicate features. But why eat every meal off the finest of china? This stranger inspired an odd tingly desire Which he dared not expresshe'd fought duels for less! He resolved to stay near him to bask and admire.

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    Frances asked of the clerk, "Do you know Al Carbonne, The notorious shark and unscrupulous thief?" Buttons bowed and declared in an ominous tone, "If he caused you offense he shall meet with his grief! I perchance overheard, he's a card shark, you say? We'll confront him as one, it will be bloody fun! We'll face him together this very same day. "Buttons Bellamy, Viscount, I'm here at your service. I'm a dangerous mandoes, perhaps, that excite you? The sheer force of my presence makes lesser men nervous But you've nothing to fear, I shall try not to bite you. Yes, I've killed once or twice when attempting to maim. And I've maimed now and then a few innocent men Whom I never meant harm. Did I ask you your name?" "Call me Frances, erm, Francis," she said, somewhat flustered, His rant left her feeling more stressed than impressed. Her mind whirled with the wind of each gust that he blustered. Still, perhaps she could use him to aid in her quest. "There's one hitch," Buttons said, "one small glitch, well, not very... He will witness my rage roaming free of its cage! Once I've met with the girl whom I'm promised to marry. "So, Francis, erm, Francis, may I call you Frank?" He whipped out his sword, spelled that name in the air. "I feel so alive and I have you to thank. Stick with me and we'll hunt this Carbonne as a pair." As the two of them stepped out the door, Frances frowned. Outside, on the street, she'd expected to meet Up with Moses, but Moses was not to be found.

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    Scene III. Moments Earlier. Moses leaned on a lamppost while far off in thought. Leon snuck up behind him and let out a "fweee!" To those passing by, Junie howled loudly, distraught, "Did you see? That rude darkie done whistled at me! He was set to attack, I was fairly a goner. As you-all can tell I's a sweet Southern belle. Oh, won't some angry mob come defend me my honor?" Rattled, Moses exclaimed, "What she claims isn't true! She is holding a grudge against me and my sister." The crowd split as a constable marched his way through. Junie fainted. The lawman tried catching but missed her. So she sprang to her feet and then fainted once more This time rescued from harm as she fell in his arms. "That boy lies," Junie cried. "I ain't seen him before." "Can someone attest to what this lady claims?" The constable asked. Leon said, "Only me. These two are but strangers, I don't got their names, I've no grudges nor girlfriends, I calls what I see. He done whistled at her." Moses said, "I did not And he's Leon, her beau." Said the constable, "So, Witness, tell me your name." Leon gulped. "I forgot." The constable said, "Well, I've known him for years. He belongs to the Sharpers, he's Anthony Cobb." "His name's Moses," said Junie, "he don't come from here." The lawman cried, "Liar!" to gasps from the mob. "If he's so much a stranger then how could you know?" It seemed Junie's mistake would yield Moses a break Then the constable cuffed him, declaring, "Let's go."

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    Act IV

    Scene I. The Sharper Family Mansion. Mamie readied her home for the viscount's appearance. She'd sent Anthony out to procure some fresh cream. She had strived for high standards with fierce perseverance With this visit affirming her longstanding dream: To be peers with the peerage as somebody who Could be sharing cuisine or high tea with a queen. "Such a noble man!" Mamie exclaimed with a coo. As he sat in his study, Claude studied a note. He squinted at writing peculiarly tiny, That of Bellamy, Viscount. Claude felt in his throat A tightening knot. Having downed some more wine, he Re-read the demands for the dowry up front. The maneuver seemed shabby, audaciously grabby. "Useless noblemen," Claude said and huffed out a grunt. Annie stood in the dressing room dressed as a goddess In a royal blue vest and a crinoline skirt. The sleeves were bouffant on her taffeta bodice. She was powdered and painted and ready to flirt. She'd been warned to ignore Buttons' hand and his teeth Or, more close to the truth, it was only one tooth. And, regarding his nose cap: don't peek underneath. ... Moses Darling was led to the Sharper estate. As the constable opened the cuffs, he admonished, "Don't you pass by the Galt until after a wait." It all seemed so unreal, Moses stood there astonished. Having thought he was doomed, he now felt his soul soar. He said, "Thanks, sir, I think." The cop sent him a wink. Mamie stood at the fore of the entryway door.

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    "On this of all days," the grim matron declared. "We're about to be blessed with the advent of greatness. There's much work to get done. I expect to be spared The pathetic excuse which accounts for your lateness." She had clearly confused him with one of her servants Looking not at his face but at some far off place. Moses marveled at how she seemed so unobservant. Still, he deemed it was safest not yet taking flight, He'd instead play along by proceeding indoors Then he'd later escape once away, out of sight. When he entered, she told him to start on his chores. Moses searched for a nook, a secure, remote cranny. He would flee his first chance with the right circumstance. When he ducked in the parlor, he ran into Annie. It seemed as though Frances had stepped through a mirror And, in some reverse world, she'd become Cinderella. As though lost in a trance, Moses slowly drew near her. With her sweeping dress gown and a silken umbrella She looked like a princess, all decked out and preening. Moses raised his defenses and focused his senses. He resolved to uncover this mystery's meaning. To Annie, her servant seemed more self-assured, He moved with a swagger, a manwhat a man! She was taken aback by how much he'd matured. Still...she'd meant to say something. Oh, yes! She began, "Please don't fret over mother, all bluster and snarling. Today, nothing is normal. You'll have to act formal. Call me Miss Sharper." Moses replied, "Call me Darling." "I've not seen you this way," Annie panted. "So cheeky, Such brass! Could it be you've grown eager for me? Always hiding your feelings, so shamefully sneaky. It's because I'm engaged. Now you're jealous, I see. Still, it's insolence. You must be punished for this! What deserts fit your crime? I've a thought that's sublime." She leaned against Moses and landed a kiss.

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    And not just a peck, it went on without ceasing, A long oral embrace, they were locked lip-to-lip. A bell clanged as she clung with her ardor increasing. "Oh my stars!" Annie sighed, at last breaking her grip. "All my girlfriends are experts at living two lives. Tonight, save your strength, we'll discuss this at length. But for now, it appears, my fianc arrives. "You must hurry away. This is no place for you. I've a marriage at hand, I've no time for amour. I'll remain here awaiting my formal debut." She reclined on the couch her arm draped to the floor. Moses backed out the door with his mouth wide agape. It felt, when I kissed her, like kissing my sister. These people are batty, I need to escape. ... Frances stood in the anteroom feeling unwell. By following Buttons she'd gotten off track. She had to retreat and locate the hotel To meet up with Moses. She planned to head back When she happened to spy in a frame on a shelf A pen and ink drawing. An inkling came gnawing Her innermost thinking: she stared at herself. Buttons said, "You admire my divine bride-to-be? If only you knew of my amorous deeds Then, like all my inferiors, you'd envy me And my testicles charging like galloping steeds." Nearby, Mamie stood. Clearing her throat, clearly nervous. "I feel honored," she gushed, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed. "Please know all of our household is placed at your service." "And I'm charmed," Buttons said. "You've a radiant gleam For a wrinkled and matronly menial maid. Now, kindly, go fetch me some tea with fresh cream. And I'll hint to your mistress how you're underpaid. But, hush! Here's the sire of the girl I'm to marry. We have business to do." Claude and Buttons withdrew Leaving Mamie and Frances bewildered and wary.

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    Scene II. In the Office. Claude sidled in back of his cherrywood desk. His chair seat grew tighter with each passing year. He tented his hands. "Your demands are grotesque," He said. "First, understand just how much I hold dear..." "Blah-blah-blah," Buttons said, "kindly skip to the crux. Annie's fine merchandise and I'm worth twice my price. Now the time has arrived to fork over big bucks." Claude offered an envelope. "Here is five grand." "I scoff!" Buttons said, "please take note of my scorn. You won't trim my demands with a flick of your hand, I'm no dewy-eyed doe who's but yesterday born. Sir, up until now, I've admired your hypocrisy You grew up outclassed in a land without caste. It costs more than five thousand to buy aristocracy." "And yet this can serve as a tidy down payment," Buttons added while tucking the sum down his pants. "I've collectors to pay, in fact, quite a few claimants. And now some of your wine if you'll kindly decant." Claude resolved to get plastered, then weep for his daughter. If his wife weren't about he would boot this boob out. He filled glasses for two and then downed them like water.

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    Scene III. In the Lounge and Foyer. Annie lazed on the lounge with a pose that declared Just how little she cared. But why feign such a look If no one is looking? She got up and stared Through the keyhole at Frances whom Annie mistook To be Buttons. In awe, she concluded that he Was the handsomest creature with elegant features If this man weren't a man then this man would be...me. Annie sighed in relief as she viewed her intended. All those claims of disfigurement? Merely vile jests! She got ready to pounce, all her doubts now suspended. First, she tucked in her tummy then puffed out her chest. Then she launched forth as quick as the snap of a whip. Frances saw her reflection advance her direction. She tried dodging. They met with a crash of their lips. Frances broke off in shock. Through some sorcerer's mirror Her image was living. She felt disbelief. Buttons witnessed the scene. "Now I see matters clearer. Frank, you're poaching my truelove," he said. "Wretched thief! Let us settle this outrage like two men of action. We'll proceed to the den, sip some brandy and then We'll play Russian Roulette. I demand satisfaction!"

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    Scene IV. In the Kitchen. Nerissa conveyed a sharp blade to her eyes To shave a potato. A presence arrived. She tilted her head as she tried to surmise The cause of her curious chill. It revived A long-faded emotion. Another spud skinned, She halted her peeling and shook off this feeling. She said to the shadow-man, "Son, I have sinned. "Oh, Anthony, dear, I've succumbed to temptation. In his study, your master was tending his trade When, alone for a moment, some odd fascination Drew me lured to his desk where some bills had been laid. Thousands peeked from their cover. It seemed like a trap Or...our chance to be free, take the money and flee. I traded the bills for some old butcher's wrap. "Then I sealed up the envelope, sure I'd be caught. I've waited all morning for you to come back. He'll discover my deed. We've no time, we cannot Be reluctant to act. We must hurry and pack." "I'm not Anthony, madam," said Moses at last. With his voice, her ears burned, her strange feeling returned. She was sitting in front of a ghost from her past. She raised up a hand to trace over his face. Was it Anthony? No. But who else could it be? An impossible notion arose in the space Between feelings and reason. Degree by degree Her doubts disappeared, soon replaced by her tears. She thanked God for his grace, leaping up to embrace The child she'd been missing for all of these years. "Hello, Remmy," said Anthony. "This here's your mother." He'd been standing alone in the back by the door. "The river divided us. I's your twin brother." They wept and they hugged and then wept even more. Moses told them of Frances and what brought him here. They then planned their escape, an intrigue taking shape. They would make for the river to cross the frontier.

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    Scene V. In the Den. Buttons said, "In my hand's an ingenious device. A pistol with chambers revolving like gears. For questions of fate, its response is concise. When the hammer is cocked, look! the trigger appears. Only one of five chambers is holding a bullet. We each share the same chances." His aim set on Frances. He stroked on the trigger preparing to pull it... "But wait!" he exclaimed. "You can wiggle your way out. Decamp and forever be gone from my sight! But before you may leave I insist on a payout For the heartache you caused me, to prove you're contrite. I possess in this envelope five thousand dollars. I expect you to meet it, turn tail and retreat, To go slinking away with the other nightcrawlers." "I've four thousand," said Frances, "but nothing for you. Give that trigger a scratch if you're itching to get it." "That's not how the game's played," Buttons said. "Here's a clue: Your life and your money, you've already bet it. As have I." With a twitch of his finger, a click. The hammer re-cocked and the cylinder locked Into place. Buttons aimed at his face, gave a flick To the trigger. Again, the disquieting rap Of metal on metal. Its echo rang hollow. "Three chambers remain," he said. "Don't be a sap. You've shown valor thus far but what's now set to follow Is this pistol counts down with but one guarantee: Its bullet demands only one of us stands While the other one falls, be it you or else me." The gun pointing at Frances, he tickled the trigger The hammer collapsed, again nothing occurred. Frances said, "This is fixed and has you as the rigger. I'm risking three chambers with only your word That the gun's fairly spun." "I cry foul!" he replied. "I'll but one thing confess: I've fought duels for less!" He aimed at his head, dropped the hammer, then sighed.

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    "Now one chamber remains and it's holding the bullet," Buttons said. "In the end, the gun's sighted on you." His thumb twitched at the hammer but didn't yet pull it. "You can still run away if you'll pay what I'm due." The hammer withdrew and the cylinder snicked. "Leave your money and live. If you die you'll still give Up the cash." Her thoughts tumbled in place with a click. This man was a blowhard and surely a coward Yet he never seemed worried when facing the gun. He Possessed two expressions, he smirked or else glowered. He would not risk his life. He just wanted the money. Frances grabbed at the pistol. It's not even loaded. When trying to wrest it, it fixed on her chest. Its Percussion cap blasted, its powder exploded. Just moments before by the door to the den Three fugitives slipped by: Nerissa and sons. They were hauling belongings, not pausing, but then Moses peeked through the doorway to witness the gun's Barrel focused on Frances. He quickly decided To launch an assault with a high-flying vault, With the gun going off as the trio collided. A stinger of flame and a lead pellet grazed The vest Frances wore, the blaze scalding her chest. The blast summoned the troops: Claude, his pepperbox raised, And Mamie who brandished a sword. Soon the rest, First Annie then Anthony rushed in, concerned, Then Nerissa came shuffling, her nose up and snuffling. "I smell smoke," she exclaimed. Frances' ruffled shirt burned. To Annie's dismay Buttons patted the flame. She asked, "Why are you groping that man?" He replied, "How dare you suggest? I've fought duels...my aim Was to put out the fire." He shrugged. Anthony spied A vase which he drained dowsing Frances with water. As she squirmed in her straps her bust burst from its wraps. Claude said, "Hands off that man, sir, that man is my daughter!"

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    Buttons patted some more. "That's no man," he agreed. "We've two Anthony's. Why? I'm confused," Mamie said. Then the voices came varied. "It can't be!" "Indeed!" "My father? My mother?" "My daughter? You're dead!" Annie squinted, upset. She said, "Pardon me, mister You're not Anthony? Wait! Let's try getting this straight: This means I kissed a stranger? Ugh! I kissed my sister!" Her outburst brought silence and puzzled expressions At last broken by Mamie who started to wail. Frances told them her story with many digressions About Moses, Demetrius, also the tale Why they'd come to Kentucky: to settle the bill With Carbonne. "That vile thief has brought many to grief," Claude remarked. "He runs games in the Old Beargrass Mill." Meanwhile, Anthony clearing his throat, sometimes coughing, Tried signaling Moses, "We gots to escape." But Moses dismissed any risk, chuckling, scoffing, He couldn't imagine the trap taking shape, Too nave to foresee the impending disaster. When the tales and tears ended then Mamie commended, "Loyal Remmy, the slave who returned to his masters." "I'm no slave," Moses said. "All my life, I've spent free." Claude said, "No one's suggesting that you should hold blame. We won't punish you, Remmy, you've my guarantee." "You'll address me as Moses," he said, eyes aflame. Buttons lowered his hand to the hilt of his saber. "State your case," Claude said, "fashioned by statutes, not passion. Can you cite why you're right under laws of slave labor?" "But father," said Frances, "those laws are unjust." She quaked with a fury, so angry he'd made her. "Frances, dear," said her mom, "you look set to combust. You sound like some shrill abolition crusader Or those suffrage rights strumpets whom everyone shuns. It's about time you woke up." Nerissa then spoke up, "I'll pay you five thousand to set free my sons."

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    "Five thousand," said Claude, "makes a mighty fine offer If I took them to auction I'd get, maybe three. Just this morning I'd lost that amount from my coffers." She gave him the envelope. He said, "I agree." For a moment while counting the bills, crisp and neat, Claude felt prosperous, pleased. Buttons said as he seized It, "Consider the dowry now paid off, complete." Buttons crammed the full envelope safe down his pants To join with the other, his bankroll kept warm. Sitting back, he smiled smugly, an ace of finance. "To be legal," Claude stated, "we'll need to perform A correct bill of sale. We have papers to sign." Annie cried, "Stop this chatter! Don't my feelings matter? I refuse to sell Anthony, Anthony's mine." With a leap Annie launched, her arms stretched out to join Up with Anthony. Anthony cringed as she hugged. Buttons dug up an envelope jammed near his groin. He handed it back to Nerissa and shrugged. She peeked in the envelope, bending its flap. The only things left from Nerissa's grand theft Were the cut-to-bits scraps from an old butcher's wrap. "Bah! freedom," said Mamie, her acid voice dripping, "Sometimes sweetness and pity won't get the job done. Come on Frances, please grow up: this boy needs a whipping. You're a Southern girl now, so start thinking like one." Frances answered, "I'd rather have drowned in the water." With contempt, she and Moses struck obstinate poses. He declared, "I'm no slave," and, she, "I'm not your daughter." Claude strongly believed in both firmness and fairness, Give-and-take was required for resolving this riddle. He'd combine his good sense with incisive awareness. Be it slavery/freedom? He'd cut down the middle. Soon Frances would see past the fog of emotion That his judgment was just, that he'd done what he must. His sharp mind would secure his young daughter's devotion.

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    Claude proclaimed, "I'm a man always governed by reason. Seeing how much this matter discomforts my Frances I'll pretend this disdain for the law is not treason And, agreeing this case has unique circumstances, I say, fine! Let him go! Remmy doesn't deserve us. He can leave in due course once he's shown his remorse And he pays us one thousand for lost years of service." Nerissa told Frances, "My money's just paper." Frances felt herself sink as though trapped in quicksand. If they hoped to escape they would need a new caper. She counted a grand from the funds she had planned To hand to Carbonne. She announced, cool as ice, "It's just business, now is it? This pays for my visit And for Moses whose worth goes beyond any price." "One more matter," said Claude, "he must show us he's grateful For the freedom we gave him. A thank you will do Or else simply a bow. This affair has turned hateful. If he says all is square we can start fresh, anew." After looking to Frances, his brother, his mother, Moses said, "Here's my vow: I will break before bowing And I won't leave this place without taking my brother." "Well, okay!" Annie said, clapping. "Everything's settled. While I get to keep Anthony, you keep your pride. He's been happy enough before you came and meddled." "I ain't happy," said Anthony. "Off'n I cried. If more brave I'd a run off on many occasion." Frances said, her smile canny, "Let me talk to Annie. I've learned something about Southern charm and persuasion." The two sisters retired to the main sitting room To hash out their discord. Once ten minutes ticked by Annie opened the door. She declared, "I presume You desire to discover what Frances and I Have decided. To start, we'll set Anthony free. Frances pledged in exchange, since we've lived so estranged, She will stay here at home to be sisters with me.

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    "I'll accompany Anthony, Remmy, along With their mother to Louisville port to secure Their passage by ferry, so nothing goes wrong, So their rights are respected. It's just to make sure. We need leave in a hurry, no time to look back." She showed Moses the truth: she revealed her chipped tooth. He whispered to Frances, "We've already packed." Frances wrestled her hoopskirt while threading her way Out the door with the twins and their mother in tow. Frances said, "Just walk slow to the hedges, okay? Then we hightail it." Anthony said, "But you know, If the ferryman don't sees my papers I's dead. They'll presume I gone running. The law 'll come gunning." "We'll get by. We're all fugitives now," Moses said.

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    Scene VI. Moments Later. "Your closet is moaning," the viscount observed. "It reminds me of England, this haunted estate..." Claude flung open the door. Annie staggered and swerved, Swooned and fainted. "...Northumberland...wait..." Claude said, "Fetch me some tea." "...Kent! No that's not the place..." Mamie brought a full cup. Buttons said, "Bottoms up! Oh..." He pitched the remainder across Annie's face. Annie moaned in her petticoat, face bruised and wet. "My sister's a thug," she said. "Anthony's gone." Claude spoke, pinching his temples, "How far can they get? We'll call in the law. They'll be found, whereupon, They'll be sold down the river." Her mother said, "Honey, We'll buy you another." "He's not a pet, mother." Annie sighed. "My crushed heart won't be mended by money. "In short, I've been wounded, make sure that he hurts." Claude announced, "We'll dispatch a brigade of slave catchers. We'll offer a bounty. We'll forward alerts. Frances thinks she is shrewd but our feats will outmatch her. This attack on our home is much worse than a theft. My Frances betrayed me. The fool that she made me..." He stopped speaking. He noticed that Annie had left. "I'll find Annie," vowed Buttons, unsheathing his blade. "I'll return to you safely my soon-to-be spouse Then I'll chase to inferno those wild renegades. You have nothing to fret, I'm now man of the house. Your loss is my grief and your quest my ordeal. Hark! Destiny knocks! I'll be off to the docks. May our enemies taste the tart tang of my steel!"

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    Act V Scene I. By the Louisville Docks. At the end of the pier the New Albany ferry Gave its steam whistle blasts to invite all aboard. The traveling party stood waiting and wary As Anthony froze. "Leave me here," he implored. "With no liberty papers I's snagged in a bind. When they sees I can't show 'em ain't nobody goes." "Use my papers," said Moses, "I'm staying behind. "I'll locate the mill where I'll face down Carbonne. Frances, shepherd my folks, they're now yours to protect. You can cross through frontiersby your color alone, You've got passport enough." Frances said, "I suspect You'll be needing this satchel. It's one thousand shy From the money I paid when I tried to persuade Them to let you go free. There are things you can't buy, You should not even try: liberation's a right Not an item to barter." They huddled and kissed, And they cried and they hugged and went on holding tight. "So long," Frances told Moses, "you know you'll be missed. But you'll do well enough without me as a coach." Moses said, "Godspeed, sister." He leaned in and kissed her. From the end of the avenue Annie approached. Annie stormed down the street like a fast-moving squall With her petticoat flouncing and hands balled in knots. She spotted her prey, her mind set for a brawl When a hand seized her shoulder disrupting her thoughts. She spun as she swung, landing Buttons a swat. "Ah, my spitfire," he said. "So much ireuse your head. Just one word to the watch and their journey is naught. "There's no rush. They're still blocked by the crowd at the entry. We'll advance on our foes with a leisurely walk. Soon those scoundrels will learn of the wrath of the gentry! Milady, your arm?" Annie shook off her shock. As the passersby stared at her clothes she became Overwhelmed with awareness she wore underwear. She heard murmurs of "Annie." They all knew her name.

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    With each passing moment her horror increased. Made intense by the lunatic latched to her arm. She awoke to a nightmare, her prospects deceased. Buttons sensed her unease so he turned on the charm. "My angel," he said. "Am I all that you dreamed?" Buttons bowed. "Are you pleased?" At that instant he sneezed. The cap flew from his nose. Annie burst into screams. Her shrieks packed an earful for Leon and Junie Who mistook her for Frances. They readied to strike. "She's parading in undies, that hellcat's gone loony," Said Junie. With Leon, they swooped in like shrikes And crashed atop Annie. They splashed in the mud. "Has the world gone insane?" Annie cried out in pain. Buttons said, his sword drawn, "Now prepare to taste blood. "I demand you unhand her and face your damnation!" His nose cap, replaced, was now set upside-down. "That lass is my treasure, you measled crustacean." Leon rose from the muck looking grimy. He frowned, Saying, "Don't call my Junie some crusty-some-thingy, You grubby street-strutter, you blundering nutter." Junie stood by his side, her hair slimy and stringy. Buttons said, "You are swordless, I see, but not wordless. Through your slander you dare to besmudge my good name? I'm a fellow of action who's always preferred less Silly chatter, more fighting. You're up for the game? If you'd known me you'd guess I've fought duels for less Than the barbs which you speak." Buttons scratched Leon's cheek With his blade. The boy used his two feet to express His response. In a frenzy he scampered away Leaving Junie behind. She said, "Aw, never mind!" And stomped off his direction. To Annie's dismay Buttons smiled his one tooth, got his nose cap aligned. Now, beyond screaming, she slowly exhaled. She wished only escape. In the distance, a shape Annie found that the ferry had boarded and sailed.

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    Scene II. The Old Beargrass Mill. In the hills, Beargrass River began with a run Where it leapt over rocks. There, they called it a kill. It reached Louisville spent, its sprint over and done. It transformed into marsh near the Old Beargrass Mill Which had closed nine years back with the Van Buren panic. There was faded paint gilding the shell of its building. Weeds sprung from its cracks. It seemed monstrous, organic. Its faade made of bricks, a sheer wall without portals Save a single dark doorway where stood an old cuss, A tough Cerberus able to vanquish mere mortals. "I'm passing," warned Moses, "so don't make a fuss." The guard repositioned, now blocking its center. He barked the word, "Scram." Then the Englishman, Sam, Intervened. He bade Moses, "We're waiting, come enter." The corridor swallowed them deep down its maw. At the end of its gullet: a swell like a belly, A criminals' den out-of-sight from the law. As grim as a prison, a cell dank and smelly, Its walls were defaced by the mischief of vandals. The support beams were charred, its bricks pock-marked and tarred. Its spaces half-lit by its half-melted candles. A guard by the entryway nodded regards. A collection of punks slept on benches and bunks. At a table the sleepless watched over their cards. Sam booted a drunk from his roost on a trunk. First, he spat on the seat, then forced Moses to sit. The shark ruling this lair reviewed Moses and glared; Carbonne narrowed his eyes, his smile sleek as a slit. With his shoulders arched high and wrapped deep in a cloak Al Carbonne appeared folded and hunched like a bat. Although quiet, his sneer and brown puddle-eyes spoke, Saying, "Welcome to Hades." He wore a tall hat. One hand may have been charred; other scars appeared clearer. On his face were red streaks which seemed fiercer than shrieks. He signaled to Moses inviting him nearer.

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    Moses showed him the satchel, explaining, "It's short By a thousand that's owed on the deed to the land. I'm not asking for favors, we'll make this a sport Let's deal out a hand and I'll bet you the grand." Carbonne spewed out a laugh, saying, "Kid, here's a flash, I'm just in this for greed, you can choose how you bleed. When I win this, I'll keep both the deed and your cash. "Your offer to gamble speaks straight to my heart And my keen sense of fairness." He snuck out a chuckle. When the table was cleared, Moses said, "Shall we start? Or you just want to sit there and suck on a knuckle?" Sam gathered the cards. "You play brag?" he inquired. Moses answered, "For fun. Funny, I always won." "You're unbeaten?" said Al. "Oh, good Lord! I'm inspired." Sam shuffled and cut but, before having dealt, He sneezed, passing his handkerchief over the deck Then he skidded out cards. Moses trembled, he felt Less assured than he showed. He unknotted his neck While inspecting three tens. Moses said, feeling bold, "One thousand will do." Al replied, "Make that two." "You are holding three jacks," Moses told him, "I fold." "Since you folded you ain't gonna see what I'm keeping," Carbonne said. "And it seems you're now two thousand lacking. Undefeated you say? Musta caught you while sleeping. You're in over your headgo head back to bootblacking." Moses planned all along to have squandered this hand. He saw how Al had cheatedhe could be defeated. Moses stung with the loss but he still held two grand. "One more round," Moses said, "only this time I deal." Sam looked to his partner who sent him a nod. Moses mustered the cards, felt his chilled blood congeal. With some cutting and shuffling the iciness thawed. He had saved the last hands which he palmed on the top Of the deck. Moses shot out the cards. "For the pot," He said, raising his satchel, then letting it drop.

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    "You can count me all in. That's two grand for my bet When I win you can keep it while I keep the deed. Then I'll head far away, we'll have settled our debt." Carbonne tapped on his cards, saying, "Just what we need. A little more cheating is all this game lacks. I'll match your two grand. No need checking my hand: I'm holding three tens while you're holding three jacks." Moses tried to arise but Sam weighed on his shoulder. "One more round," Al insisted, "this just between crooks." He strangled a candle, its flame became smolder. He took out his gun. They exchanged lethal looks. "You believed you could thieve and then leave here alive?" Carbonne said. "I've this feeling we don't need no dealing. You'll bet your four thousand. I'll raise you to five. "Ain't no matter the cards, since you can't match my bet You're already the loser. Good luck your next game. I sense you're regretting we ever done met. Give or take a few thousand, my feeling's the same. Now, get out of my place! Leave your stash on the shelf." Moses felt his hopes drained only one choice remained. He said, "I'll see your wager. I'm betting myself. "You can auction me off if you don't want a slave. My value at market is one grand or more. I've no lash marks which shows them I always behave. I'm youthful and rugged for fields or for chores." Carbonne said, "Just one look and they'll figure you'll fight. You're a sure runaway. I got doubts what they'll pay. They want darkies more dim, not one brazenly bright. "And yet, why reject the fine treasures you toss me? You can choose how you bleed." Carbonne dealt out two hands. "When you're mine don't you run and don't dare double-cross me. You'll sample my wrath if you flout my commands." While shedding his hat he snuck cards from its lining, A set of three aces. He switched these in place of The cards in his hand. He leaned back, reclining.

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    Moses stared at Al's face as time stretched out to linger. He connected stray thoughts, all as distant as Mars. His hand raised in the air, Moses splayed out his fingers Which lined up with scars as though linking the stars. "The marks on your face look like spokes from a hub," Moses stated. "What's more, I've observed them before: A huge handprint that streaked down the side of the tub That carried two babies, my sister and I, Down the river to Troy where my father redeemed it And saved us." Carbonne told this tale in reply, "On the Steamboat Sebastianseems like I dreamed it, Was a stoker named Hans, one rough boulder of granite, A true heroso caring, audacious and daring. When the boiler's bolts blasted he stuck there to man it. "When a pipe burst above me he shielded my face With his hand from the steam thereby saving my sight, Not to mention my life. I was there when he placed You two safe in that tub. With his last bit of fight, You were launched. Then he died." With his story all told, Carbonne lapsed into muteness and lost resoluteness. Then, at last breaking silence, he whispered, "I fold." "Take the deed," said Carbonne. "Just so nobody's sore I'll keep hold of the satchel and cash." Moses said, "No, I won your five thousand. I owed only four." Carbonne counted one grand. Moses grabbed it and fled. Sam looked to his boss his lips sour with a pucker. "Let's go hit the saloon," Al said. "Doubtless we'll soon Get it back. We can always find some other sucker."

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    Scene III. The Darling Family Home. The daybreak in Troy brought the Darlings unease As the household prepared for a long journey north. Shorty said to his children, "We've no guarantees We will meet up again. From this moment and forth You are partners in crime. Moses, even your sister If the tale came to light how she helped with your flight Could be charged as abettor or else as resister "For not aiding your capture. Indeed, on free soil We've the laws stacked against us when slave catchers come. Here, at home, I'll be working my utmost to foil Their pursuit. I've the smarts to know how to play dumb. On some faraway day when our struggles bear fruit We will outlaw this shame so that all may proclaim Our sameness as humans, our differences, moot." Their nation divided, its lies and its rules Helped to hold in a bondage what couldn't be bound. So Nerissa, her children and Frances packed mules To head to a place where they'd never be found. The sun clumsily fell over trees to the west. After stretched shadows faded while owls serenaded They continued their pilgrimage, no time to rest.