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Anandrogynous eighties cover band was on the small stage cranking out apretty good rendition of 'Our Lips Are sealed', the Fun Boy Three version,not The Bangles.Sarah sidled up to the bar and ordered a cherry coke and lit a cigarette."Well look what the cat dragged in!" Wendy threw her arms around Sarahand planted sloppy red-lipstick kisses on both cheeks.Wendy had to be in her sixties now but she was still doing the Betty Boopthing. She wore a lot of makeup, her eyes outlined with kohl and herlashes heavily mascaraed, her cheeks were rouged and her lustrous blackhair was curled and framed her face. She was wearing a sequined flapperdress which showed off her legs and did little to contain her mountainousbreasts. She was hiding a few wrinkles under all that makeup and theplace being dark helped but she was showing her age and she had put onabout twenty pounds."Well hello yourself." Sarah kissed Wendy back.They chatted for a bit; talking about old times but steering clear. She stood right behind Connie as I ate. All she had on was a thin white shift that I could almost see through. She had marks on her wrists and on her ankles from manacles. I never thought much about a slave being human. After all you could buy and sell them like a horse or a cow and they even came with ownership papers.I wondered about the talk of secession and the possibility of Lincoln becoming President. I knew where my father stood on the subject and I also knew where my Uncle stood too. How could two brothers have such vast differences over the same issue?After my late lunch Aunt Grace sent me up to my room to rest. Uncle George was older than my father was but Aunt Grace was younger than my mother was. Uncle George married her at sixteen and even now at thirty-one she was a beauty. My mother was now just thirty-six, like my father but she looked a lot older. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all because Aunt Grace had slaves to do her housework for her and that my mother had.
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