"I dare say you are correct, sir, be what it would, my only contributions to all of that were my efforts to serve my people and the ideals of popular government as I understood them then. I had to break with Johnson and the United States because of my respect for abiding fellowship, my obligations to those whose bones fertilize these fields here and about." He lifted his right hand and offered a gentle flip. "I was Jones of Old Lincoln sir! Many of us clung to an idea and a way of life that had to give way to something that could be better for all, not for one race, or for one section of our nation. Your morpheus glimpses of the elements of slavery: financing, operations, the evil, pain, and the sin were quite dramatic but they do well serve to give a clear perspective of the institution." He grimaced and his face appeared stricken, by what-guilt, empathy, or regrets-I could not determine.
After his brief display of whatever sentiment he'd felt, he said, "Friend Mansfield, your great-grandfather's place in your dream of the hell that was Stone's River seems to indicate your connection with that dying, sinful world. You are related to it, sir, by blood and culture. 'The sins of the fathers are visited even unto the seventh generation,' says the good book. You do remember that Biblical truth, Sir? There is wisdom in that declaration, wouldn't you say? There are always implications, always. Yes, life is in good measure connected by implications." He was delivering revelation now. I dared not intrude. I needed to listen, not contradict, to learn and not protest.
"Then we come to the records: my place of residence, grave locations, census citations, little George's name, and 1853 in Cuba. Pray those facts, sir, are but inspiration for the circumstantial evidence in your suspicions of my moral choices. Even my living in the Stonebreaker's home means nothing more than that." He must have seen me ready to protest about his neglecting of the dance in the dream and the tragic scene of Buchanan and King. "Patience, sir, friend Mansfield, I will respond to all of your charges, even the would-be 'evidence' of your dreams." He did not smile in delivering that put-down.
"When Mr. George Stonebreaker died in 1865, he was buried in one of the plots he and I had purchased in 1856. They were side by side. That is the uncomplicated truth of the fact that Miss Patc and I were buried side by side. While we're at this point, let me be unconstructively clear, sir, my love for Mrs. Martha "Patc" Yates Stonebreaker was chaste. It was unrequited, sir. Do you know what that is?" He did not wait for a response. "I know she held me in high regard and was most, most kind to me in all the years of our acquaintance withal. She was my dearest female friend as Johnson was my closest male friend. She and Mr. George honored me by giving their son my last name as his middle name. Perchance, sir, you do remember that his father was George Stonebreaker. George, sir?" I nodded guiltily.