powerful part of us, was ailing.

Grass actually began to grow up through the porch, and the hard ground around the house began to fall off and wash away and turn to sand. The well water tasted less sweet. Wild dogs killed our chickens.

Only Grandma was a light in the dark. She was ever energetic, tried to be fun, but Daddy’s darkness hung over the house like a tree about to fall. One day, as we put flowers on Mose’s grave, Toby limping along beside us, I asked Grandma if Daddy would soon be better.

She thought about it before she answered. That was unusual for her. She was usually quick to respond, and knew exactly what she thought about a matter, exactly what she wanted to say.

She put her arm around me. “I believe he will, Harry. But your Daddy’s received a blow. It’s not all that different than a fellow I knew named Boris Smith out there in North Texas. He was kicked in the head by a mule. He didn’t change right out, but he got sort of strange and stayed that way a long time. One day, he brightened and came out of it.”

“What made him better?”

“Well, for one thing, the mule died. That cheered him up. But I don’t think it was that simple.”

“You think Daddy got hit too hard by them folks?”

“You were both hit too hard. But no, that’s not what I mean. Your Daddy got kicked in the soul, sweetheart. So did you. But you’re young enough to see daylight. Jacob ought to be, but I think the kick to him was a little harder. He felt he saw it coming and stepped right into it.”

“But he’ll be all right?”

“I’m gonna tell you I think so. But I ain’t gonna lie to you, Harry. I don’t know. Boris, he got all right in time. But it took a long time. His was a physical injury, so you might say it’s harder to recover from that. I’m not so sure. A kick in the soul can take it all out of you forever. Lot of them Dust Bowl folks just pretty much laid down and quit. Most of them took a chance, went somewhere to try again. They had hope. Some of ’em will find out their hope ain’t hope, just a lie, and they’ll lay down and quit. Some of them will get up and try again. Your Daddy’s like that. If he can get up, he will. I just don’t know when.”

“It’s like everything’s fallin’ apart,” I said.

“I know,” Grandma said. “But we’ve got to be strong. Not only for your Daddy, but for the family. You and me, we can pull this through.”

“Think so?”

“I do.”

“How?”

Grandma was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know exactly, but these murders, all this business with Mose, they’re connected in more ways than one. I know your Daddy gave you a trust, Harry, but now might be the time to break that. Mose is gone. I know about the murders. Is there anything you can tell me? Maybe I can help. And if we can help, that sure won’t hurt your Daddy.”

She was right. I had kept my word, and now it seemed to me it was no longer necessary. I told her all that I knew. I did choose, however, to leave out the part about Mr. Smoote’s daughter.

When I finished telling her the story, Grandma said, “This Nation. He seems to pop up at all this business. And his two boys. You say they’re just like him?”

“Except even more snivelin’.”

“Miss Maggie, I bet she knows a little somethin’ on everybody in town. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Come on then.”

Grandma drove her car over to Miss Maggie’s place. Miss Maggie was sitting on the back porch fanning herself with a church fan. When she saw us come up, she grinned around the teeth she had left.

“Well now, if it ain’t Miss June.”

“Howdy, Maggie,” Grandma said. “You got any coffee on?”

“No, I ain’t, but I can sure git it on.”

Grandma and Miss Maggie had theirs black. Miss Maggie poured me a half cup, put cream in it out of a can, and a lot of sugar. She placed it on a cracked saucer. We took our coffee out on Miss Maggie’s porch.

Grandma talked about some general things, then skillfully turned the conversation to the Nations.

“Them Nations,” Miss Maggie said. “They’s a bad lot. But mostly cowards. They throwed Old Man Nation out of the Klan ’cause he too stupid.”

“That tells us somethin’,” Grandma said. “It ain’t like you’re dealin’ with a bunch of Edisons there in the first place.”

“Oh, they’s people in ole Klan you wouldn’t believe. I use’ta work for a white man was Klan, and he was right smart and jest as nice to me as could be. But he in the Klan. Cleanin’ his house, I fount his robes. He go on to make a judge.”

“Another kind of robe,” Grandma said.

“Uh huh,” Miss Maggie said.

“Maggie,” Grandma said, “I’m gonna tell you somethin’ that’s supposed to just be family business. But I’m gonna tell you about it, ’cause I think I can trust you, and maybe you can help me and Harry here out. His Daddy, this thing with Mose-”

“Po ole Mose.”

“Yeah,” Grandma said. “Well, Jacob, he’s a good man-”

“Oh, Lord yes. I know Missuh Jacob done all he could. He ain’t a bit like his Daddy.”

“You knew his father?” Grandma said.

“Yes’m, I knew him. Real well. No disrespect to the boy, it bein’ his grandfather and all. But I don’t miss him none.”

“No one else is missin’ him much either,” Grandma said.

“There’s peckerwoods right proud of themselves, goin’ out and gettin’ ’em an old nigger can hardly stand up and hangin’ him. No disrespect to you and Missuh Harry.”

“None taken. Wasn’t any way Mose did any of this. I knew him too. Many years ago. Me and my husband used to fish with him. He taught Jacob and Harry both to fish.”

“He thought a lot of Missuh Jacob and Missuh Harry. He used to come see me sometime.”

I noticed that Miss Maggie’s eyes were teary.

“Me and him was kind of together oncet. After his wife run off. But his boy needed him a lot. Wasn’t right in the head. Liked to run off and live in the woods. I tole him didn’t matter none. Me and him could take care of that boy better’n jest him. But he didn’t want to move off from down there on that river, and I just couldn’t do it. Go there, I mean. I got my place here. Then the boy disappeared, and there was them rumors ’bout Mose killin’ him, or some such. But wasn’t nothin’ to it. We didn’t never go back like we was, but he stopped by from time to time. You know what I mean.”

“I know,” Grandma said.

I didn’t. I thought about it. I guessed maybe he stopped in like us now and then for coffee.

“I wish’t I could’a gone to his fun’ral.”

“We didn’t know who to invite,” Grandma said. “Couple folks Jacob knew who knew him come out. We’d have known, we’d have come got you.”

“I ’preciate that. They’s lots of things ’bout me I ain’t made no point on, though. So ain’t no way you’d have knowed.”

“Don’t suppose you have any idea who could have done these murders. Ones Mose was blamed for.”

“I knew, I’d said other time we was talkin’.”

“Not even rumors?”

“Rumors was what got Mose hung up like that.”

“I see your point.”

“I think it be a Travelin’ Man, just like me and Missuh Harry talk about.”

“And if it isn’t a Travelin’ Man?”

“Anyone could be a Travelin’ Man, he sell his soul. I’d keep my eye on them Nations. One of them boys… Don’t remember which’n, but one of ’em is crazy. They all crazy, but he’s the craziest. Starts fires. Raped couple colored gals in the past that folks know ’bout. Wasn’t nothin’ could be done ’bout it. No one wanted to do nothin’

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