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“Why, Benjarace us with your presence Did somebody die?”

My father’s gift for sarcas I hadn’t co over to his house my first day in town

“How are you feeling?” I asked

“Sound body, sound mind As far as I can tell Why? Have you heard otherwise?”

“Not at all I’lad to hear you’re well”

“What wonderful Yankee manners I trust you are healthy yourself?”

I nodded The silence between us was almost painful

“So, Ben, you still busy up there freeing the slaves?”

“I believe it was President Lincoln who did that”

“Ah, that’s right,” he said, a wisp of a set my history Care for some turtle soup?”

Soup? On a ninety-degree night in Mississippi?

“No, thank you”

“No turtle soup? Yet another in a succession of foolish choices on your part, Benjamin”

My father did not ask me to take a seat at his table

He did not ask what brought me to Eudora after six years, and I wondered if it was possible that he knew