“He asked if I had a gun. I said I did, and he said dont show it to the younguns or say nothing about it. I said I wasnt planning on it. That’s all.”

I pushed open my door and he stepped inside. The banjo stood alone by the hearth.

“Place of honor,” he said.

“You would think so.”

He picked it up, ran the back of his finger over the strings. “You let it git bad out of tune.”

“I aint paid a lot of attention to it. I dont know nothing about it.”

He twisted the knobs, strummed, narrowed his eyes. Then he launched into Old Joe Clark, but stopped in the middle of it. “That’s where Isom should come in,” he said. He set it down, looked around the room.

“You git lonesome?” he asked.

“I got my kin. You git lonesome?”

“Me? Naw. Too busy.”

“What you doing these days? They aint much you can do for the strike in Charleston, is they?”

He smiled. “That’s what you think. Me and Doc and some other boys, we got big plans. We’re going to overthrow the government.” He whooped and slapped his leg. “I wisht you could see your face, Miss Carrie!”

“Well, what kind of crazy talk is that? You aint serious!”

“Never been more serious in my life. Come on, let’s git back so I can pick for them younguns. We’ll talk about it later.”

All the way back up through the cornfield he kept snatching lightning bugs out of the air, then letting them go.

“How in the hell are you going to overthrow the United States government?”

“Carrie Lee! Such language!”

“You answer me!”

“I aint talking about the United States government. I’m talking about this government around here.” He waved his arms in a wide arc. “I’m talking about that son of a bitch sheriff up in Logan County, and them Republicans in Justice County, and the gun thugs and the state police and maybe even the goddamn governor of West Virginia.”

“I knowed you long enough to know you aint no fool. You cant believe they’ll let you git away with that.”

“I didnt say we’d git away with it. I said we’d try. Hit’s like old Thomas Jefferson said. Hit’s the course of human events.”

They waited for us on the front porch. Rondal played Dusty Miller and Cripple Creek, Shady Grove and Soldiers Joy. Then he played and sang My Old Kentucky Home. We joined in the chorus.

Weep no more my lady, oh weep no more today.

We will sing one song for my old Kentucky home,

For my old Kentucky home far away.

After awhile Ben stood and stretched, said it was bedtime and corn to be hoed in the morning. Rondal offered to help and he agreed.