Indigo had a moon in her mouth after all. With Spats & Crunch to run with, her workings, as she called them, were more down to earth. Indigo’s specialities were other worlds, fiddling. Spats concentrated on hands, deft, light knife throwing-get-a-watch-offa-wrist, agile hands. Crunch, himself, was moved by yearnings to tear-the-damn-place-down, your place, you, anybody he hadda hankering to. Awesome trio. The immediate problem was how to identify Indigo as a Jr. G.C. Spats almost slapped the devil out of Crunch when he said, “Man, that’s impossible. She a girl, how she gonna look like us?” Spats snarled, “Ain’t nothin’ impossible for a Geechee Cap-i-tan.” With that the two assembled Indigo’s uniform. ’Cause she wouldn’t look right in a inside-out sweatshirt or in cut-offs like theirs, they decided on a hat. Spats stole a Stetson, the smallest one he saw in Kerreson’s. They didn’t like the Colored to try the hats on anyway. Crunch beat up some yellow hincty boy who was playing ball on King Street & took a fine leather belt off him. Then they decorated it with switchblade handles & a strap for Indigo to carry her fiddle round. What Geechee Capitan would walk round without having both hands free? In her new get-up Indigo was a fierce-looking lil sister. She stuffed her braids up in her Stetson, dark brown & tilted over her left eye. Spats, Crunch, & Indigo, all agreed that she was now presentable. Nevertheless, Crunch felt something was missing.

“Hey, Spats, I know what’s wrong! She ain’t gotta real name. Ya know, a name particular to us!” Indigo had always liked her name. There was nothing wrong with her name. She was particularly herself. She changed the nature of things. She colored & made richer what was blank & plain. The slaves who were ourselves knew all about indigo & Indigo herself. Besides there was great danger in callin’ someone out their name. Spirits get confused, bring you something meant for someone else. Folks get upset, move with wrath instead of grace, when callt by a name not blessed & known on earth. Indigo was not hot on this new name business. After some discussion, Crunch accepted a shortening of Indigo to “Digo.” Spats had learned enough to know that in another language, Spanish to be exact, “digo” had something to do with “to say” & to his mind, Digo was really sayin’ somethin’. If she chose to get on her fiddle, ya best mind what she say.

The South in her.