I asked C.J. if they would be returning to Italy “one of these days.” He rubbed his square chin.

“I reckon they’s land enough for all,” he said after a time. “I like to think we can live together ifn we have to. Hit wont never be the same, but we’ll have to do the best we can.”

C.J. hated the coal camps, had as little to do with them as possible. He rarely went to Jenkinjones, at the head of Pliny, although it was only two miles from Annadel. He passed through Felco, then the largest camp, on the train, and only came to Winco to see me. He usually brought a newspaper with him, the Justice Clarion, or the Charleston Gazette when he could get it. He said there were things going on in the world I would never learn in a coal operator’s school, and was always pointing out stories about revolts in the Philippines or strikes in Massachusetts.

“I fret about you growing up here,” he said. We sat on our porch swing. “Company runs everything, makes all your daddy’s decisions for him, even gits his mail. Hit’s like Russia with that there Czar. Your daddy aint a free man. He’s like a slave.”

“Aint nothing he can do about it,” I said defensively. I didn’t like to think I came from a cowardly daddy.

“Aint nothing he is doing about it except drinking,” C.J. said.

I shushed him, afraid Mommy might be listening and send him away. “Hit eases his back,” I whispered.

C.J. pushed back and forth hard with his legs. I looked anxiously at the ceiling to see if the swing would hold. C.J. was a big man, over six feet tall and two hundred pounds, and his end of the swing tipped lower than mine so that I was jerked back and forth each time he pushed off.

“What you learning in school these days?” he asked.

“I’m a-memorizing the Declaration of Independence for Class Day. Can I practice on you? ‘When in the course of human events…’”

I spoke proudly and confidently. I had already practiced before the class and Miss Radcliffe said I had “presence.”

I stopped breathless with “the pursuit of happiness” and waited for his praise.

“That it?” he asked, like he was disgusted.

I nodded, hurt.

“Aint it just like them,” he said. “Where’s the rest of it? Where’s the part about overthrowing the government?”

“I dont know nothing about that. Miss Radcliffe just wrote this here out for me on a scrap of paper.”

“Declaration of Independence says we got a right to overthrow the government when it gits worthless,” C.J. said grumpily. “I’d like to hear about that there sometime.”

I wanted to hear that I had presence, but C.J. was in a bad mood the rest of the day. His parting words were a vow to bring me a copy of the complete Declaration to read.