The Tragedy of Reginald King, Part Vii
VII.
It was one year, minus a day,
when Reg ventured back to her home,
he’d gotten work running cattle,
all over Nevada did roam.
But the whole time he dreamed about
his woman alone on the ranch,
he realized he truly loved her,
she was his, and he was her man.
When he rode up to her front door,
going in the cover of night,
he knocked softly and she approached,
Reg was astonished by the sight.
It wasn’t just his Jolene there,
a small baby lay in her arms,
she smiled warmly, and she said,
“Couldn’t wait one more day, gol’ darn.
“Well, I guess that you should come in,
you’re daughter would love to meet you,
Regina sure missed her daddy,
and I think her mother did too.”
It took Reg a moment to hear,
he hadn’t expected this all,
that said, he wasn’t complaining,
and into Jolene’s arms did fall.
He lay holding his girls that night,
thought of the preacher way back when,
God wasn’t a creature of wrath,
in truth, he rewarded good men.
They just picked up where they’d left off,
two misfits lived as man and wife,
even brought her to a preacher
so they could say they’d done it right.
Once again joyous weeks went by,
they bought cows to graze on the land,
she was no whore, he no bandit,
to the world, just woman and man.
Until the day Tyree stopped by,
in his hands was a small folder.
“I heard that you were back,”he said,
his face looking somewhat disturbed.
“What makes you look so glum?”asked Reg,
said Tyree, “It’s you family.
I have found what you once asked for,
but do you want to know? Really?”
Reg just looked back, rather confused,
“Well what kind of question is that?
What kind of man wouldn’t want to know
all about their real mom and dad?”
Tyree sighed and gave the folder,
it was pages from a town hall,
a list of births twenty years back,
and Reg quickly scanned through them all.
Most were kids born to married folk,
the way this was supposed to go,
Reg felt thankful for those children,
the pain he’d felt they’d never know.
But that joy soon faded to black,
and Tyree heard Reginald scream,
at the words, ‘A half-Mexican boy
was born to a whore named Jolene…’
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