I sat in my car beside the Beaufort River, windows down, evening’s hush settling soft on the tide. Words sp

When Old Massa was alive, I was young and strong as Alfred the ox. I was on the front line in our big fight with the Heywards. Scipio—he was a Heyward—and I got into a fight over a woman who used to live here. She’s dead now, but she was beautiful and she was my girl for a while.

Recently, I found myself in the South, visiting my sister and squeezing in some shopping for an upcoming cruise.