"I watched his tall Rebecca and little Penny grow up. Well, in truth, I helped them. Rebecca thought I was something special and was always attentive to washing and mending my clothes. She was forever requesting of me stories from my book reading. I secretly taught her and Penny how to read and write and do sums. Their mother, Josie, was a quiet thing and as little as Cyrus was large. She was maybe five foot two and Cyrus stood a full six foot three, and weighted maybe two hundred seventy pounds. Penny a diminutive quiet creature, took after her mother, and Rebecca after Cyrus. Rebecca was tall, with large hands and the most expressive deep brown eyes, and was rawboned, not thick. As a grown woman, she possessed Cyrus' dignity and centeredness and her own natural grace.

"Cyrus took pride in his skill and knew that it was of worth. He displayed an inner strength and dignity. Oh, he acknowledged his bondage, but I've even seen him curse it silently when some arrogant clod strutted his 'white-ness' in front of him and sought to lord over him. He would not cow to any braggart, nor would he provoke him, but, because I knew Cyrus, I could see his disgust, his sadness, and his anger.

"He once said, 'I'm a slave because I'm black, and some other folk not black are slaves because they be fools!' There's timeless wisdom there sir." With those words, Jones stopped his story for a few seconds and made strong eye contact with me. For a fleeting second, his blue eyes flashed with an intense light. Then he retreated to a calmer place and took up his narrative again.

"I was greatly attached to Cyrus and his folk. Quite close…"

He did not finish his statement but did an interesting thing…he clicked his tongue against his teeth…"tuck, tuck". The sentiments evoked must have surprised him, as he blushed brightly and his eyes teared. One tear escaped to roll down his face. He cleared his throat gruffly and pulled his hand over his face from forward to beard and looked away to somewhere distant, as if needing to leave a place of tenderness and hurt.

Mr. Jones then stopped his nostalgic reminiscence of Cyrus and family. Under his breath he said, "Well, well?" With that, he placed his hat on his head, positioned his cane, and stood up. "Pray, sir, by your leave might we resume tomorrow, shall we say, in the courtroom of that new, terribly undistinguished courthouse up yonder?" His face was flushed and his bearing gave witness that his distress had not fully eased. With obvious effort, he stretched his cane towards the north like Moses holding his great staff over the Red Sea.




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