Sumpin’ Bad Gwine Happen
If Moon and Doll work together, sooner or later, sumpin’ bad gwine happen
Even Jaybird, my boyhood best friend and mentor, didn’t know how Moon and Doll got their names. Moon, I could halfway understand. Like that nocturnal orb, his face was round and shiny. But Doll was anything but a doll. He was so huge that his wife had to hand-sew coveralls to clothe his oxen obesity.
Whatever work we were doing on Dad’s Mississippi Delta farm, the two men never stopped competing with each other — a good thing, I thought.
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