A solitary figure walked down the street. In one hand he held a large black case, in the other, a cigar. He walked with a spring in has step, his head held high, whistling a jaunty tune. The man's fedora cast a shadow on his face, ensuring that none of his features were visible. Had anyone been able to see past the brim of his hat, they would have seen a flawless, symetrical face, with sharp, observant eyes. The face of a wanted man. Jerry Jones.
Jones raised his cigar to his mouth and took a long drag, blowing the smoke away into the night. As he did this, his sleeve fell back, revealing a golden watch, striking in comparison to his jet black skin. As the sleeve slid further, a scar appeared. Rounded and crossed, one could just faintly make out the letters BJ. A slave branding.
Jerry Jones walked down the street and out of sight. The blue moon watched him go.
------
At precisely three A.M. Mary Malone awoke to the sound of rocks hitting her window.
"What do you want?" She yelled out, peering into the darkness. A pause. "Jerry?"
And then, "Come on Mary, you know you want to."
"You're a crazy man Jones, they're offering nearly four hundred dollars for you now, you hear? I can't be seen with you."
"Aw, come on Mary, don't be like that. Come on out. We got some fiddles and my sax, all we need is a dancer."
"I told you Jones, not any more. If my mama knew what I was up to....." Mary's voice trailed off.
She'd go and die all over again, that's what. "Your mama's gone, girl." Jones whispered, "And she'd want you to have a little fun. I knew her better than you did. let's go."
Mary frowned. Nothing was clear any more. But she wanted to go. So bad. "Hang on a moment, I'll be down."
"That's my girl."
------
An hour later, with her lipstic done and a dress on, Mary Malone walked into the Blue Moon Cafe, Jerry Jones was at her side. Beside him walked a tall man, he carried a violin case.
"Relax Mary, none of the guys here would turn me in. We're all friends."
"There's a price on your head Jones, a bigger one than any. Men kill for money like that."
"True, but they won't turn me in. I'm too good for that."
Applause sounded as the trio walked up to the stage. The announcer called their names, and cheers errupted from the audience. Everyone loved Jones, he was a favorite, a hero. Mary sighed, Jerry was right. No one would ever turn him in.
Letting the crowd's enthusiasm swell within her, Mary bannished her fears to the back corner of her mind. Tommorow she would worry, tonight she would dance.
Buffalo gals won't ya come out to-night, come out to-night, come out to-night
Buffalo gals won't you come out to-night and we'll dance by the light of the moon
I danced with a gal with a hole in her stocking
And her knees was a-knockin'
and her shoes was a'rockin'
I danced with a gal with a hole in her stocking
And we danced by the light of the moon.
