In the restaurant’s fading light, he tells the story to his woman. Warily, the way his father told it to him: There once lived a man named Elijah. A man who, among many other things—blacksmith, singer, lover of russet pears—had been born a slave. In those days, Texas had yet again changed its mind about what it was. It had belonged to Mexico, then became its own fearsome land, then joined Polk’s America, then splintered off with the rest of the rebellious South. Texas dreamed of cotton and … [Read more...] about When We Go, We Go Downstream