The Cottoncrest Curse (40 page)

One day, it is hoped, Hank will no longer be so young and naive and will comprehend that the epidermis that cloaks us is but a mere envelope for the blood flowing in our veins and that the envelope's color reflects nothing about its contents.

Mr. Gold, you are a kind and generous man to have, all these years, been the unseen, unknown, and invisible godfather of young Hank. It is my hope that we will all live to see the day when this young man reaches maturity and is prepared to accept the truth about his parentage and to be thankful to you, a Jew, for protecting and supporting the son of a Catholic of the old Confederacy and his Octoroon spouse through the meager, and as it appears for now, insufficient efforts of your humble agent.

Sincerely,

Kenneth Ganderson

“So, you see, that's it. They're all dead now, everyone who knew the truth. The Colonel Judge. Rebecca. Grandpapa Jake. Ganderson. Matthews. Maybe that's the real curse of Cottoncrest—that we can never know the complete truth, that each of us bears witness only to our own version of the truth, and that this incomplete vision blinds us in some way that we can never comprehend.

“Tears? Yes, those are tears in my eyes. Tears are a wonderful human trait. We cry at sad and tragic occasions. We cry at joyous ones as well. This whole trip with you has been one of pleasure. And today, especially, being here at Cottoncrest with you, has given me nothing but
nachas
—nothing but happiness and delight and fulfilled contentment. To have been able to share with you all of these memories. You have grown into such a beautiful young woman, and I am so proud of you!

“Give me your handkerchief, will you, to wipe away these tears.

“Yes.
Altsding lozt zich ois mit a gevain.
Everything ends in weeping.”