Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Independence Day came and went with a tiny spark of celebration but nary a smidge of freedom for the women. The hunger strike had taken its toll on most, and the prison lazed in the baked heat of another holiday heartbreak for those missing home.
A bit of cheer arrived the night before when the cook, Patsy, snuck in a surprise for the inmates.
She had squirreled away a bag of oranges, slices of bread, sugar cubes, a tomato, and a can of fruit cocktail to make a large batch of prison hooch to share with some in our wing.
Waldeen paid no mind to her cook when she grabbed a large pickle crock from the back of the pantry.
Amid the soft, shushing giggles and guzzles, the pie-eyed women enjoyed their early-holiday festivity long into the night while guards turned a blind eye.
I spent the Fourth cleaning the library, where I was surprised by Regina. She’d slipped in behind me as I stooped over to shelve books.
Wary, I glanced up at her, then turned my attention back to the task. “There’s new novels on the table.” I straightened and hitched my thumb toward a stack of books.
“I’ve just come from the warden’s office. She wants to see you.” A small smile creased her childlike face.
I narrowed my eyes. What had the girl done now? Had her words in lockup been a guise?
“Cussy, I just want to—”
I shoved another book onto the shelf, the smack sealing the silence between us.
She had rained misery down on me. And her cruel deeds were going to be the demise of my babe. What more could she do? I flicked my hands down my dress and left her staring after me.
***
The warden rarely came in on Saturday, much less a holiday, so it had to be bad.
My first thoughts pulled to Jackson. He’d been on my mind since the solitary confinement.
He had somehow called to me in my deepest despair, freed me from my tormented thoughts and destruction.
Were they legally bound to tell me if my husband was sick, or worse?
Waldeen had said that without an official marriage license, it was doubtful.
Waiting outside the warden’s office door, I heard weeping erupt, then cries landing into loud sobs. Pressing a hand to my tightening chest, I stood up.
The door opened, and Sassyann walked out in shackles followed by a guard, her tearstained face bone-white and paling against Death Row’s assigned red garb.
When Sassyann brushed past, she touched my hand, and I gripped back. “My boys finally came. Thank you.” The guard stepped between us, breaking off what I feared would be her last comfort of human touch.
“I’ll see you now, Cussy Lovett.” The warden opened and shut her palm, beckoning me to hurry inside.
I looked back at Sassyann, watched her head hang defeated, feeling something horrible was happening. Had her boys forgiven her or damned her to hell?
My mind ticked over the books I’d read to her. Fretted if there had been one that might have offended the warden, a book I’d let slip in—
“Hurry in, Lovett. I’ve got a lot of work to tend to on my day off—a holiday, at that. I’m eager to get back to the comforts of my easy chair with a good book and a cool drink.”
Irritation plastered Warden’s face, and I stood in front of her, worrying my hands until she curtly gave a nod, silently ordering me to be seated.
She thumped her stack of papers.
Alarmed, I jumped.
“Ma’am,” I dared speak, “is something wrong?”
“Everything,” she breathed wearily and cocked her head to the window, a hardness cutting her face.
I was drawn to the papers on her desk, and that’s when I saw it. Saw Sassyann’s damnation. The official execution warrant signed by the governor.
“Warden…?” The unfinished question lodged in my throat.
She caught me staring at the document and nodded. “You can take Sipes off your library visits. She’s being transported down to Eddyville, where they will carry out the signed warrant.” Her eyes were troubled. Distant.
The grim prison known as the Castle on the Cumberland, where they executed Kentucky inmates with ol’ Sparky. Sickened, I gripped my hand, the one she’d held just seconds ago. Silently, I begged for her mercy.
Warden pushed the death warrant aside and said quietly, “I’m grateful for your work with her.
Because of this, she was finally able to visit with her sons.
Even a sinner like her deserves a last wish.
Thank God they didn’t strip her of that.
” I strained and had to read the next word on Warden’s lips, which she uttered under her breath: “Bastards.”
She cast her eyes to the paperwork, and her voice wavered before she cleared her throat. “Now, we have other problems to address, and they concern you.”
I waited, and when she didn’t speak, I said, “Warden, if I’ve done something wrong, please let me know. I’d like a chance to fix it.”
“No fixing this,” she mumbled, scattering papers. Then she picked up a letter and snapped it in front of me. “You’ve been granted an eight-day furlough, Miss Cussy Lovett.”
I could feel my eyes widening in disbelief, and I gripped the chair.
“It seems Warden Alton attended the mayor’s weekly luncheon in Louisville and spoke about your work with the Pack Horse librarian project and your current prison work.
The mayor was impressed. He called the state director over Corrections and requested you be given a community furlough.
You’ve been assigned to help with the Louisville Western Colored Branch’s latest outreach program. You’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”
My color rose hot on my skin. How could I leave with Jackson so close? I’d miss the chance of seeing him. “Warden, I’ve had eight more women sign into the library and—”
“Damn you, Alton, for stealing my librarian,” she blurted. “My money’s not for your men’s prison. You were scheduled for your procedures next week. Now I’ll have to try and reschedule with Dr. Kennedy.”
I leaned in closer. “Ma’am, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this. Please don’t—” The plea broke in my throat. “I can work more hours. Just let me keep the babe. I’ll—”
“I must follow the rules, Lovett. Sterilizing and abortion are simple operations that will benefit you in the long run. It’s for the best.” Her thin smile betrayed the declaration.
“Please, ma’am. Don’t do this.” I stood and took a step toward her.
Warden flinched, souring her mouth.
“Please.” I fought to compose my mounting panic.
She raised her palms. “It’s out of my hands. The medical committee ordered your sterilization after consulting with the board in March. They decided you don’t have the capacity to rear children. It will reduce the threat to society and—”
“Could you please contact my doctor back home?”
Her mouth contorted, the bother set plain in her narrowing eyes. “That old mountain doctor has been a prickly thorn in my side.”
I fought to hold my tongue.
“He’s been calling every day, insisting on examining you again. Worrying the governor for a pardon. But now he’s interfering with my prison. It’s been ordered that only prison medical will see you.”
“But if you—”
“Enough, Lovett!”
I swallowed my last words, fearing she’d throw me in solitary again, or worse, schedule a lobotomy.
“The ink has dried. Matter of fact, I sealed that envelope. Now, I told that backwoods quack, again, you’d already undergone the procedure to keep him off my back.
I knew he would be trouble. And he has now been stripped of his medical privileges in this prison.
My prison,” she screeched as she pounded her fist on the desk, causing the immediate appearance of a guard.
I tried to step back, but he grabbed my wrist, twisted.
Dropping to my knees, I gritted my teeth.
Warden winced. “Leave her!” She shooed the officer away. “Now, let’s finish this up, Lovett.”
I eased back into the chair, rubbing my wrist.
Warden pressed down the bodice of her white blouse. When her next words came, she barely spoke above a whisper. So much so that I had to scoot my chair closer.
“As you can see, it’s been a difficult day.” She nodded toward Sassyann’s death warrant. “I was one of the lucky ones. In DC, I’d suffered years from a man’s drunken fits. He would beat me senseless… Thank God the bottle was his poison. His demise. Or I’d be right where Sassyann is sitting now.”
I would have never guessed a fine business lady like herself had lived a troubled life like Sassyann. Me. And it stole my breath as I realized there were probably countless others being tormented at this very minute.
She shook her head slightly and snatched up the furlough paper, seemingly embarrassed about sharing a snippet of her past. Then her next words came brisk: “I thought of denying this furlough, and I could in a snap. But it could be good for the prison. Show off your skills we’ve adopted, and maybe it’ll get us more funding. ”
I lowered my eyes.
“You’ll not mention your…your delicate condition outside these walls.
I won’t have our gracious hosts saddled with worry or have them uncomfortable in your presence.
They are pillars of the community, in their seventies, and don’t need wagging tongues fretting about their unusual visitor. Not a word. Understood?”
All I could think about was she had lied to Doc. He couldn’t undo what she said had already been done to me. I could only hold out hope that a pardon would come soon.
She softened somewhat. “This will be a good opportunity for both of us. And considered good time earned. I’ll see that time is deducted from your sentence. It will be more than generous compensation for your work.”
I perked, studying on just how much time would be cut from my sentence.
Warden began reciting a long list of rules I was to follow: “You’ll be housed with Reverend Claxton and his wife, Mrs. Claxton, the Negro librarian who runs the city library branch.
You are expected to assist Mrs. Claxton and do whatever she and Reverend ask of you.
You will obey their rules. You will not be permitted to go anywhere unless accompanied by Reverend or Mrs. Claxton.
You will consider yourself under house arrest while in their care and at the library.
Rules will be strictly enforced and observed. You…”
Resigned, I let my mind ruminate on this new opportunity to visit the big city for the first time. I’d heard about the first Carnegie Library there for the Negro folks and seen newspaper photographs long ago.
Warden went on, “After giving it much thought, I’m assigning Regina Miles to take over in your absence. She’ll be assisting the patrons in Forensics and Geriatrics—”
“Ma’am,” I interrupted, suddenly alarmed, “I can make up my work when I get back. Won’t be no problem to catch up my readers in those wings.”
The women were so fragile, I feared Regina might upset them, lose her temper and hurt someone.
“You will require some assistance upon your return and after your surgery. The prison director is on my back to immediately implement a reading and writing course that all inmates will be required to attend before they’re granted a parole hearing.
We need someone to keep the library going.
Despite Miles’s occasional irascible moods, she has a great fondness for the books, and I’m hoping they’ll keep her out of trouble—and hoping you two will work well together when you get back.
” Her commanding eyes pierced mine. “I’ll need her trained properly.
After all, she would be the perfect choice for librarian after you are paroled. ”
I tucked in my hands, the misery of working with the girl igniting them.
“Now, again, I must warn you to be on your best behavior with the Claxtons. Step out of line, and the consequences will be severe. Downright dire. I cannot afford any more scandals associated with myself or my prison. Is this clear?”
The warden stared at me, waiting for my reply. When none came, she warned, “There are ways to correct the strong-willed and other undesirable traits of headstrong females.” She reached in her drawer and pulled out a letter. “From home. You may take it with you.”