“I’m leaving,” Annie said barely above a whisper. “I’m leaving.”

“Oh, now you can’t do that, dear Annie. Sit with this old gent and tell me the story of being an Eskimo in Canada. The one thing I want to know is, do you really eat raw meat?”

“Alex, those Eskimo women eat all meat. Raw, red and hard!” shouted another of the Bar Flies, and the laughter started to roll back and forth, up and down the bar counter again.

Annie reached behind her back and grabbed Alex’s fingers. She squeezed them together tight and sneered, “You old white fuck. I’m leaving.”

“Whoa now girl, you don’t get to talk to me like that!” exclaimed Alex as he reached for her waist with both of his hands, pressing hard into her stomach. “There now, settle down. Steady it a bit, girl!”

Annie pulled Alex’s hands off her belly and pushed her arms straight back as hard as she could. The hard tips of her elbows landed on Alex’s ribs and she heard his breath pop out of him. Annie turned to leave while a man in the bar started to hoot and holler, “You got a live one, Alex. Ride ’em, cowboy!”

She felt Alex’s hand pull on her right arm, and she swung her purse toward him as hard as she could. She felt the rage inside of her bubble and boil over. She felt the hate that she had had for white men crawl down her arms and sit on her nails. She wanted to scratch this fucker’s eyes out.

Annie swung her arm back one more time. Her purse flew through the air. The Bar Flies were laughing and chanting, “Go Alex, go!” when she heard a voice break into her ears behind her.

“Trouble follows you everywhere, doesn’t it?”

She would have recognized that voice anywhere, everywhere and at any time of day or night.

Annie turned and looked into the eyes of Johnny Cochrane. The man in this world who hated her most.

The man who would be so thrilled to have his Moses Henry back to himself.

Johnny placed his face in front of Alex’s and hissed, “Listen, you soft white piece of shit, you leave my woman alone. You white boys need to know your place. Get back to your bar stool.” Alex backed up, back to the bar stool that had been his for over five decades.

Johnny turned to Annie and smiled. He reached out his hand and nodded. Annie’s trembling hand locked with his, and they walked out of the pub together.

Once they were outside, Annie started to shake and shake. She couldn’t stop herself. She felt the tears welling up into pools in the corner of each eye, and no matter how hard she tried to blink them away, they fell like huge raindrops onto the sidewalk.

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” she said between gasps. “I’m so sorry. Thank you. Ma’na.”