ladyjanelly

So I was looking for some very important papers today (never found the fuckers) and I found a notebook with a lot of building plans for my old house that i was doing renovations on, and in the middle, I found this piece that was the background history for a character I played in a RPG called "Deadlands." And you know what? It's like five years old, and I don't think it sucks.

Momma was a good woman, just not strong. Least that's what Poppa always said. She died a yella fever when I was four.

Poppa was a good man, an strong too. He was the oldest a seven brothers, never had a sister. Guess it makes sense, him dressin' me like a boy an takin' me with him when he went down south lookin' for work.

My Poppa knew horses. Never had no book-learnin' but there wasn't a horse born he couldn’t work. He gave me my first when I was five and I started helping him with the green-broke foals when I was ten.

He taught me to shoot an ride an I growed up half-wild an brown as a Indian.

Sometimes I think he half-forgot I was a girl. Always callin' me Joe an never correctin' nobody when they called me his son.

Just before the war, we fell on hard times, Poppa workin' horses on this plantation down Louisiana way.

Out front the place was a purty sight, big old trees an the houses sittin' there so white. In back I ain't seen any place so close to hell. The overseer, name a Walker, he kept the dirt there wet with the blood of those slaves. He was hard on Poppa an me too, but he couldn’t go hittin' us on account of us bein' white.

I didn’t know there was going to be a war at all, 'til those fancy-dressed boys from the big house rode out one mornin' all proud-talkin' an' promisin' to come back soon.

Week later, Poppa died. Horse kicked him an he fell like a sack a flour. Then I was all alone an Walker started gettin' nasty. Man had a hard temper an a hard hand an I learned to stay shy a both.

He caught me out back of the shed one day, started yellin' about one thing or another. Next thing I know he's pullin' my pants down. I figured he knew I was a girl an he was gonna do to me what I seen some of the other men doin' to those slave girls.

I'm lookin' at him and he's lookin' at what I ain't got an I never seen a man so mad.

He kicked me damn near half to death before this big buck, name a Earl, turns the corner an sees it an smacks Walker's head into the shed. I still don’t know if he ever got up again.

So Earl picks me up an puts my pants back on an he keeps callin' me "boy" even though he can see I ain't.

Off we went, and he had to just about carry me for a couple a days. There wasn’t much of a posse left to chase us an we got to a safe place to hide. I figured I must a been the first white girl runnin' on the underground railroad.

We got us to Missoura an Earl said he had to go join the army. He ended up infantry. I volunteerd and got messenger duty. You should a seen the sweet little paint filly they gave me. You'd a liked her.

I named her paint. I never was good at names.

I'd call you Earl, on account of you bein' black, but you ain't but a little horse an he's a big man so I'll call you Coal.