Warlock

by Oakley Hall

where I was a young fellow there was a statue out before the courthouse that was meant to represent justice. She had a sword that didn’t point at nobody, and a blindfold over her eyes, and scales that balanced. Maybe it was different with you Confederates. A good many of you I’ve seen I’ve thought it must’ve been a different statue of her you had down south. One that her sword always poked at you. One with no blindfold on her eyes, so you always thought she was looking straight at you. And her scales tipped against you, every time. For I have never seen such men to take her on and try to fight her. “And maybe with a fraud like that one you could win. But this here, now, is the United States of America, and it is my statue of justice that stands for here. You can cross swords with her till you die doing it, and you are always going to lose. Because back of her, standing right there behind her—or maybe pretty far back, like here in the territory—there is all the people. All the people, and when you set yourself against her, you are set against every one of us.”