So I was trying really hard to write my epilogues in a style vaguely similar to the ones the original story was written in, but I met  my match with Richard Wright. I tried so hard to match his dialogue that it gave me a headache and took me about a month, then I gave up on it...but I'm sure if you really want to you can read it in that particular dialect, but I can't write in it. A wise man knows when he's lost. So now let's look in on our almost man Dave after he hopped the train with his "manhood" firmly in his pocket...

Half-Man Full-Grown

            Dave had found his way into an unlocked car and slept for a while. He had been in the rail car for almost a full day when the nightmare came. He was in the field with Jenny, they were working in the back field. When there was a thunderous sound and suddenly Jenny was bleeding all over. Again Dave tried to stop the blood with some mud but she just kept bleeding faster and faster. There was another loud bang, it seemed to shake his whole body. Now it was pouring out, gushing like a fountain over his arms and him filling his mouth, it tasted like sand. He awoke with a shout. Realizing that the train was shuddering to a stop. It still felt like his mouth was full of sand. He sat for a moment catching his breath. He hadn’t eaten or drank anything all day. I ain’t neva been so thirsty in all m’life, Dave though about his momma’s biscuits, and wished he was back home.

He still had the gun, shurly he could rustle up somethin with that. He looked out the doorway of the train car. It was dark now, he’d been in the car all day. S’no time to waste or I’m gonna starve right here in this railcar, he thought. Dave jumped out of the box car and started walking down the track. Suddenly he smelled something that made his stomach growl. He followed the smell till he came upon two men sitting around a fire passing a bottle back and forth between the two of them. Suddenly they stopped and turned toward him.

“Who’s ‘ere!” The bigger of the two yelled.

Dave had to swallow twice before he could answer, his throat was so dry, “My name is Dave…’n I shore is hungry.”

The smaller man laughed, “Well ain’t we all, boy. You better just run on home before you get yourself in trouble.”

They were laughing at him again, and treating him like a child. But I ain’t gotta take that no more, Dave thought as he pulled the gun out of his pocket. ”I ain’t no boy.” He yelled. “Now I’m just gonna take what you got. Whachu think about that.” The men’s eyes got big, Dave felt proud of himself, now finally he was getting the respect of a man.

“Where’d you get that gun at boy?” Asked the bigger one.

“I aint no boy,” Dave yelled again, but his voice sounded a bit less sure to even himself. The big one stood up and started slowly walking toward him “You stop right there’r I’ll shoot you, I swear it!”

The big one smiled, ”You ain’t got the sand, boy.”

Dave planted his feet and pulled the trigger, the click seemed even louder than the shots had been earlier, when he had emptied the gun.

“My, my Otis.” The smaller one still by the fire chuckled, “This here nigger was trying to make fools out’a us with his empty gun.”

For a big guy Otis was mighty quick, his hands were on Dave before he could think about running, “You try to make a fool out of me boy,” Otis picked Dave up by his shirt collar, “I’ll make a corpse outta you.” One of those men kept his word that night, and one never saw the next morning.