I got Annie out here digging with me. She’s putting in a row of petunias, and I’m right next to her with the roses. When I plant each one, I fish a bottle of vinegar out of my pocket and pour some into the roots. Annie sees straight off what I’m doing, ’cause she’s got the sharp eyes of a thief.

“You fixing to give them all your special water?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Just the roses.”

She goes back to planting and I go back to watering.

Behind us, the front door bangs open and Mister Laramie, the new overseer, comes barrelling out with Master hot on his heels.

“If you walk out on me, with my fields full of cotton, I’ll see to it you don’t ever work as an overseer again.”

“That’s fine with me, Mister Johnson. My overseeing days are done.”

He keeps on walking and Master keeps on following, right down the front porch steps.

“You’re a fool if you think you’re going to march off to California and stumble into a field of gold. People don’t get rich by doing nothing for it.”

“No, sir. I mean to dig for it.” His heels crunch on the driveway and his arms swing in step with his stride.

“Don’t you think hundreds of men have had the same idea? Do you think the gold’s just waiting for you?”

“That’s why I’ve got to leave now. Get there while the getting’s good.”

“But I’ve got cotton that needs picking. Just wait a few weeks until after the harvest.”

“I don’t mean to leave you high and dry, sir, but you got your fortune. This is my chance to go make mine.”

When that overseer marches off, Master kicks at Miss Martha’s petunias. He’s madder than a spitting cat.

“You all right, Master? Can I get you something?”

“No, Maple. No, you can’t. Not unless you can get me a new overseer. Can you do that, Maple? A new overseer before I lose my harvest?”

I ain’t never seen him panicked and I’m lapping up the show. This, I want to say, is what it’s like to feel helpless against a thing. I got no pity. I been feeling it for too long, and it’s about time he has his turn. Watching him fall apart in front of me because of a cotton crop just makes me want to twist the knife.

“I reckon you could hire that blacksmith, since he’s still poking around here anyway.”

Annie looks up at me sharp. Guess she knows too.

“What are you talking about? He left weeks ago.”

I shrug. “Sarah’s been sneaking out to him. I reckon she got him hid somewhere close by.”

“She wouldn’t dare.”

“No, Master,” Annie says from where she crouches in the dirt, “she wouldn’t dare, like you say. And now she got Red anyhow. What she want with that blacksmith?”

I’m gonna smack her upside the head when I get her alone. “She ain’t staying in Red’s cabin like you told her,” I say. “She’s with that blacksmith.”