“Go away!” Kincaid shouted at Joe. There wasn’t a need to turn in the saddle and look back. He was there. The sounds of creaking leather and the clip of hooves said so. He had been there for half a day since he come trottin’ up with the pack mule in tow. Like he was ready to go anywhere and stay out as long as need be, the mule was loaded so.
“I said ‘Go away’,” the young man shouted again.
“Thought you said I free,” Joe replied. “Thought you said I ain’t a slave no more. That Lerocque don’t own me, and you don’t own me.”
“I did!” Kincaid snapped.
“Then I free to ride where I want. Free to ride south like I doin’. Maybe go to Santa Fe and spend some time.”
“I don’t need no mammy!” Kincaid raised his voice more. Can’t that darky see I don’t want to be around no one? That bein’ alone and feelin’ the hurt was what a man needed after what Maria done.
"Don't need no mammy," Joe mumbled. "You a miserable man, Mr. Kincaid, you know dat?"
Kincaid heard Joe's horse shuffle to a stop, and then the sounds of a man dismounting.
"Okay, how 'bout dis," Joe shouted. With a sigh, Kincaid pulled the horse around and glowered at his second shadow, dancing with his hands on his hips and a wide grin. "Ooohh, de Camptown ladies sing dis song, Doo Dah--"
"Johnson, tell me again. Exactly how did you research this piece?"
Opening: Wes Redfield.....Continuation: Anonymous