Chapter Text
*Clarksdale Mississippi-1915*
///
STACK and MARY
Mary, after a search of thirty or so minutes, joined her forbidden lover, Elias 'Stack' Moore (forbidden by 1915 Mississippi standards),
in the loft of her mother's barn. "Wha'cha got there, baby? she asked as she took a seat next to him. He handed her a single sheet of
paper, which she scanned in less than a minute. "What...Why...they cain't do this! You and Smoke are ORPHANS!"
"They DOIN' IT, Mare. They doin' it," Stack replied gravely.
"Fuck them! We...we gotta RUN. thas' all! You an' me - Smoke (twin brother Elijah Moore) an' Annie...Mama can give us what money she
can"-
Stack responded, "What you mean 'US ', White Woman?! This 1915 M crooked letter crooked letter I, humpback humpback
I! It's no better anywhere else, either. The Army sends a letter with 'report on this day at this time, Niggers' that's what we do." Noting
the stricken expression on Mary's lovely face, Stack softened his tone: "They ain't never gon' let us be, Mary. Not EVER."
"So that's IT? Off you go to fight the White Man's War? Maxie Jones already sent a letter to his Momma 'bout how they separatin'
the whites and colored - how they get the worst of the food, the equipment...and they put 'em right up front - before the white
boys. I'm SCARED, Stack - how do I live if you don't come back?"
///
SMOKE and ANNIE
Smoke and his woman, Annie, have a discussion very similar to the one Stack and Mary are having - except Annie had maybe what
she believed to be a solution: the knowledge passed to her from her Grandmother - protection potions, spells 'n such'. She put
together two mojo bags guaranteed to keep them safe as long as they kept them around their necks. "Elijah," she uttered,
one hand on his chest, "You keep this close, Cher: this chap I'm carryin' is gonna need a Daddy - and I need a husband."
"I know that," he answered sincerely. "Me an' Stack be fine," hefting the two mojo bags.
//////
PAPA MOORE
"Sons. Yo' Daddy's sorry bout how you two was treated at first - in the beginning, when y'all was small - I ain't a good man, I don't think-
but y'all goin' to WAR... an' I...I love ya both. Watch each other's backs and trust your gut. 'Cause ya cain't run: The White Man want y'all
and one way or anotha he gon' have ya. I hope, uh...I NEED y'all to come back so I can make it up to ya." He paused to swipe a shirt sleeve
under his nose and went quiet.
Smoke said, "Wasn't nuttin' Papa." Stack added, "For sure."
"I thank you, but thank God for yo' mama. 'Cause a her I might make it to just the 10th level a'hell instead of the 20th. I ain't proved
it but I love y'all. I do."
The Twins say back, "We love you too, Poppa."
"Be careful, Sons. Watch out for the bullets, and come on back healthy" (a deep clearing of his throat and a sniffle).
Elijah hugged his father first, followed by his rwin. "We will," Stack whispered.
//////
MAMA PAULINE, THE TWINS, MARY AND ANNIE
"TELL 'EM, Mama!" Mary cried. "Tell 'em that they cain't go galavantin' off to no White Man's War - gettin' themselves KILLED or MAIMED
or"-
The woman who delivered them - cared for and nursed them through childhood illnesses (including when Stack became 'stuck' inside
their Mom - a breech birth, costing Mrs. Moore her life. "Hush, Child," she warned. "Annie gone' put together the mos' powerful 'roots'
her Granmama taught her to keep 'em healthy and alive. Let her cook: them German crackers just as racist as they are HERE, but least they
fighting for COUNTRY instead of hatred."
continued DEFINITELY!