Chapter 20
Twenty
The fourth day in isolation passed, and still no word.
No Doc.
When Waldeen showed up with dinner, I thanked her several times for her generosity.
“Did he come, Waldeen?”
“Didn’t really see him, but I overheard some scuttlebutt that they sent him packing before he even made it into the administration building.”
I slumped against the door. “Did Doc say anything else on the telephone?”
She hesitated a few seconds. “He was somewhat confused and insisted you’d already had the procedure. I tried to tell him it was a lie to keep him off Warden’s back. He said to tell ya he’s still working on your pardon.”
“I have to believe he won’t give up.”
“Listen, kid, don’t count on it. I didn’t want to give ya false hope.
I’ve had plenty of politicians slide between my satin bedsheets, and know they ain’t gonna go out on a limb to help someone who can’t help them.
To him, your backwoods doctor is just one notch above a granny woman.
If that. And if this ol’ gov does grant one for ya, they’ll label him soft on crime.
If he denies it, well, he’ll get caught up in the civil rights mess that’s been brewing. ”
“But…”
“It’s a no-win for the gov either way. Nice as he may seem on the surface, you’ll not get nothing but penniless promises from money-eyed, climbing politicians.”
“How much longer do you think they’ll keep me here?”
“I’m not sure.” She lowered her voice more, causing me to strain to hear.
“But you’ve caused quite a ruckus. Forensics and Geriatrics are protesting your lockup and done went on a hunger strike.
Sassyann too. They’ve had to send two in Geriatrics to the hospital.
Mind ya, as much as it’s eased my kitchen duties, the place is in an uproar.
Warden is still livid. Guards have been grumbling that even they want the Book Woman back. ”
“Hunger strike?”
“It appears bravery has risen up from them books of yours. I’ll see ya at supper, kid. Eat for the little bean.”
She moved on to the next locked cage. “You eat up today. Every bit, young lady,” she coaxed the woman in the cell close to mine.
“The deed’s been done, and I know that temper of yours comes from a lifetime of hurting.
But ya must learn to keep it in check or face more misery in here.
” The madam’s words were wise and understanding.
“I won’t have ya wallowing. Come on, get on up outta that cot and get your dinner. ”
Directly, the tray slot banged shut.
I listened to Waldeen’s footsteps fade and the crash gate clang behind her.
***
A voice drifted outside the cell, and I opened the slot and pressed my ear to it.
“They took mine too,” she called out dryly.
“Regina?” I switched to my good ear. She’d been here the whole time, and without saying a word.
“Took ’em. That Georgia prison took my two perfect baby girls with all their nubs.
Counted each of ’em after they dropped the babies in that cold hospital bowl.
I was transferred here a week after they killed my twins.
” She coughed back a sob. “I was well into my sixth month, and they made sure I’d never have another.
Left me barren. Do that to a lot of the poorer ones coming in.
Especially ones that ain’t got no family around. ”
“I… I’m sorry.” But the sympathy was weak-boned. I was about to lose mine because of her.
“I was only seventeen, just out of high school when my man up and robbed a store. Didn’t even know he was going to do it till he got back into the truck.
There’d been a scuffle, and he shot the store owner.
The law arrested me, too, and said I was in cahoots.
But I’d never kilt no one and never dreamed he would! ”
I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head.
“When I read your letters, I went mad. You have yourself a decent man, a good daughter, and a baby growing inside you—and now my job. I’m gonna be in here until they wheel me over to Geriatrics. That librarian job was what I needed to get out of myself.”
I struggled between anger and sadness, not saying anything.
Regina coughed, and I had to strain to hear her next words.
Then she kicked what sounded like her shoe against the door and moaned.
“The position took my mind off the pain—the misery of this hell.” Her voice cracked under the weight of so much loss.
“Hope ya get that pardon. I mean it. Too late for me. But I hope you and the baby make it outta here.” She choked back what sounded like another sob.
Regina was gone the next morning.
But I awakened surprised to find someone had checked in on me but didn’t latch the lock. When I heard guards speaking, I scrambled over to eavesdrop.
“Dammit… Driving me clear out of my mind,” Officer Holt said, palming his hand down over his mouth and clean-shaven chin.
“Thought maybe I could get her to write down the names of some of their favorite books and have one of the girls she’s been schooling try and read to them.
Hell, anything to get ’em back to the quiet the Book Woman always brought.
The guards in Geriatrics are complaining too.
Even the nurses held a meeting with Warden and insisted she be released back to her duties for everyone’s sake. ”
“Are they still hell-bent on keeping up the strike?” the other officer asked.
“Yeah. Another one was sent to the infirmary just this morning. And if Warden doesn’t do something soon to restore order, the newsmen are gonna get hold of it, and there’ll be hell for everyone to pay.”
“You ain’t heard? Newsmen with cameras were camped out all over the grounds of the men’s prison yesterday,” he told Holt.
Holt shook his head. “It was my day off. Did they have another polio death?”
I felt my hands shake and curled them to my side.
“No, but they have more of ’em in wheelchairs, I was told. They’re saying some will be crippled for life…if they make it.” He paused and looked around to make sure they were alone. I ducked my head inside, hoping he hadn’t seen me. Could one of the men be Jackson? Buttermilk?
Cautious, I peeked back out when he began talking again. “They had themselves a helluva fiasco going on.” The guard sidled up closer to Holt. He lowered his voice, but not low enough that I couldn’t hear the concrete walls echo the shocking news that came next.
“One of them young bucks done went and got himself a Dear John letter. Only this time it was addressed to a Dear Janie, and he went berserk.”
Officer Holt rolled his eyes with an eagerness to be done with the gossip. “Well, I need to get back to the wing. If I can just give this to the Book Woman, I’ll—”
But the guard was just as keen to continue. “Lieutenant said the boy was so aggrieved, he got hold of a razor and tried to cut his damn dick off. His dick! Crazy kid. Found him hanging from his top bunk.”
In unison, both guards shifted their stance, smoothed down the fronts of their uniform britches, lingering protective hands over their crotches. “If that ain’t bad enough, next month he would’ve served out.”
Officer Holt stepped back, seemingly shocked, before inquiring, “Did they say if he was a local?”
“Don’t rightly know. Name was Danny, or maybe it was Daniel.
” He pondered. “Daniel Prescott. No, Presland—that’s it.
Doing time for performing lewd homosexual acts in public.
Heard he dared to give a Frenchie kiss with another feller, and right in plain view of children at a local park.
They’re burying that poor demented soul in Chicken Hill tomorrow. ”
My hand flew up to my mouth, and I moaned. Daniel, dead. Oh, not sweet Daniel, dear God.
The men looked over at me, and Officer Holt hurried toward my door.
I slammed it shut.
Officer Holt called from outside, “Cussy Lovett, I need your help with a list. Book Woman?” He opened my cell door. “Odette’s been having the fits again, and I need a book for her—”
“Not now. I’m ill.” I clung to the basin and flung a shooing arm behind me, waving him away. “Ill!”
I heard him back out, then the clack of the lock.
Cradling my belly, I crawled over to the mat and curled up in a ball like a young’un again on her mama’s lap, silently weeping for healing hugs, my fists grieving a dark blue. Begging for mercy for Daniel, my unborn babe, Jackson, and all of us locked in misery.
Outside the cell, murmurs rose from the guards and dropped in a steady rhythm of conversation.
I squeezed my eyes shut, the despair burying me like coal sludge. And I know’d they wouldn’t be done until they stole all of me. Buried every inch of me. How much more could I take? How many of us in here were one step away from walking Daniel’s path?
For three days, Officer Holt stopped by to request my help.
And for two of those days, I stared up at the barred postage-size window that I couldn’t reach.
Then I thought I felt the tiniest of flutters. Could it be the babe? Surely not, but I became frightened. So much so, I turned over and traced invisible words onto the concrete wall. Again and again, I gave breath to our promise.
His promise.
My promise.
They’d already beat me down once, and I’d be damned if I let them again. “I won’t give up. I promise,” I said to Jackson.
I smothered a last wheezing cry into the thin mat, then swept my wet face across its scratchy threads and drew a ragged breath.
Kneeling beside the door, I opened the tray slot and called out, “Guard?”
In a few minutes, I heard the keys clink against the lock.
“Tell Officer Holt to get Odette the Complete Poems of Robert Frost. It’s a blue book sitting in a stack on the table in my library.”
I spent another long night in solitary.
When the guards changed shifts in the predawn hours, I heard the outgoing officer’s latest gossip.
The women in the two striking wards and Sassyann had not eaten for a week.
Marigold had passed, and the newspaper reporters had finally come swooping and a’snooping, demanding their sensationalism while battering truths.
“Looks like everyone’s gonna have to work the Fourth, unless Warden can get this mess ironed out. ”
I wept for Marigold and, finally exhausted, dozed off, only to be awakened by breath-stealing nightmares of the old woman.
Her twinged face and shaky hands were outstretched as her ghostly wheelchair rolled toward me.
Then a red cloak descended over us both, leaving me to bolt upright, gasping for air.
Close to dinnertime, I heard keys clanging and then the startling click of the lock.
Sitting on the cot, I squared my shoulders and smoothed down my mouse nest of hair.
Warden Sanders stood on the threshold, holding a small stack of novels. “The library service is bigger than both of us. Get up, Lovett, and get back to work.” She dropped the books onto the floor and tossed an open letter atop them.
I snatched up the envelope from Honey and clasped it to my chest. It was like having a part of her back with me again.
***
June ’53
Dear Mama,
I received your latest letter from Doc. I’m glad to hear you are fit and pleased to write that I am well too. How is Papa? He still hasn’t answered my letters.
I’m working in town every other week now. Miss Foster’s been short on staff because several of the librarians have been taking their vacations. She also said with more roads being built, folks are eager to come and visit.
I don’t really mind—though I do miss my patrons.
There’s still a lot of families who can’t make it to town and are hankering for their Book Woman again.
But Junia has gotten more difficult lately and sometimes refuses to walk the paths.
She won’t budge, Mama. It doesn’t matter if I scold her or ask her sweetly or bribe her with the oat cookies, the stubborn beast screams and gallops us back to her stall. I was a little worried.
Mr. Mabry is our new ferrier farrier. He offered to come out and inspect her feet.
But the old girl was so ornery. It was almost impossible for him to check.
She fussed awful and kicked and nipped. After wrestling with her, he tied her up and was able to give her feet a cider bath.
He mentioned her swayback and said Junia’s ol bones may be suffering from the Artharitus Arthritis.
He suggested I mix a tincture of white willow bark tea and feed a little to her daily.
She seems a little spryer and content now.
We’ve had a lot of storms since I wrote you, but everything’s ok. I am tending to the cabin and critters just fine.
Francis is working this weekend but my friend Pearl has Saturday off from the fire lookout.
She’s driving us over to the Moonlite Drive-In Theater Theatre in Booneville.
I’m so excited! It’s a double feature! I can’t wait to see Singing in the Rain.
Pearl said it was grand when she saw it at the movie house but she’s been hankering to see it on the big outdoor screen.
The other movie is The Day the Earth Stood Still.
I have so much more to write, but I must close for now and will send you another letter tomorrow. My dinner break is nearly over and I can’t keep Miss Foster and the patrons waiting.
I love you. Write back soon!
Your loving daughter,
Honey Mary-Angeline Lovett
The crash door clanged shut behind the warden as I reread Honey’s letter. With a lighter spirit, I gathered up the books and brushed past the guard. Honey was doing well, experiencing the thrills of being a teen. Free.
Waldeen had said I was still valuable to the warden, and that day, for the first time, I’d felt it. The officers thought so too.
I needed to work twice as hard to help the guards in the other wings.
If Warden thought she couldn’t do without me and the guards insisted they wouldn’t, she’d surely trade off and let me keep the baby.
I would write my patrons back home, Devil John and Martha Hannah, and ask them to care for the child until I was released.
I stopped inside the library, then headed straight to Sassyann and my waiting patrons in Forensics and Geriatrics.