Sitting beside the riverbank, young 23-year-old Steve Hannery looked out over the brown flowing water. Watching the muddy water smash against the boulders and then white suds rush down river, Steve thought about his friend Gurdy. He guessed she was probably enjoying her new life away from him.

Steve stood up from the grass and brushed the leaves and dirt off his jeans. He guessed, all alone, he would return to his small cottage on the edge of the Plantation. He wished he might find some diversion to stop from feeling so sorry for himself.

As he walked back to the dirt path, he noticed some young nice looking female slaves working in the cotton field. He looked for Midge Eli among the slaves, but didn’t see her. Gurdy had introduced her to him before Gurdy had left for France.

Steve thought back. Midge had laughed at Gurdy for introducing them. "What would I want with some skinny, though admittedly good looking, white, sharecropper who doesn’t know where his next meal might be had? Why don’t you introduce me to one of your father’s bucks that has a future with your father."

Steve shook his head and considered that his social position was less than that of a slave. That reality had come so much more apparent now that he didn’t have the company of young Gurdy to make him feel rich.

Steve stumbled along the dirt path when suddenly a man on horseback came upon him in a dash. Steve jumped out of the way before the horse could stomp him. Unfortunately, where he jumped was through the bushes next to the dirt path and off a cliff. He screamed in horror each second of his deadly plummet down into the rocky riverbed.

Then quietly Steve’s ghost rose from the bloodied body he soon would leave behind. Steve was buried in a pauper’s grave and only Gurdy cried for him when she got the letter from her parents. The ghost of Steve followed the letter and watched as Gurdy read the news. He wished he might comfort her, but he knew of no way to communicate.

Gurdy cried, "Damned fool killed himself. I wish I had never heard of France. I should not have come to this snail eating hellhole. He killed himself because he loved me."

Steve rolled his eyes. "The world thinks I died a suicidal, love sick fool. Worse, that is what Gurdy thinks."

Molly and Steed appeared out of the Ether before Steve. He looked at their tender angelic faces. He imagined a halo above their heads. Steve asked, "Have you come to escort me to heaven?"

Steed answered, "No."

"No, no, no," echoed in Steve’s mind. Then Steve imagined the fires of hell and even imagined feeling the heat from the bowels of damnation. Steve went into hysterics. "What, you have come to send me to hell? I wasn’t such a bad man, was I? Surely you know that I didn’t kill myself."

Molly smiled at Steve. "We haven’t come to take you anywhere. We heard Gurdy reading the letter. She is taking your death kind of hard."

"Well, I’m not exactly taking it lightly. Why in the hell didn’t I think to jump to the other side of the path: the side without the cliff. I had so much to live for." Then Steve screamed an almost insane sounding laugh. "Ah, shit, come on God. Give your angels the order for me to be taken to hell. I’m such a liar. I’m even lying now. I had no reason to live." Then Steven somberly stated, "Still, I wanted to live. Really I did. It hurts that everyone thinks that I killed myself."

The doorknob to Gurdy’s room turned. Slowly the door opened and there stood George. He stated, "Grandfather asked me to sweep your room and empty the trash." George noticed the tears streaming down Gurdy’s face. "What is wrong, or should I ask?"

Gurdy crumpled the letter in her hands and threw it at George. "I don’t need to befriend a poor sap. Never again will I allow someone to become too dependent on me." Gurdy screamed, "Get the hell out of here, you, you, you peasant."

As George bent over to put the letter in the trash can, Gurdy stared at George. She thought in such a way that Steve heard what she was thinking. "Why do all the poor saps have such great bodies?"

George quickly left Gurdy’s room. He mumbled, "Rude, rich Americans."