The ride home always seemed faster to Ethel. When they arrived back at the high school parking lot, the sun hung low in the sky. She rubbed Sophia’s arm until the girl opened her eyes. “Honey, we’re here.”
Sophia stretched and mumbled a thank-you. But Ethel didn’t feel comfortable letting her out of the car. She was from the school of driving children up to their front door, watching them go into the house, and not pulling off until she knew they were safe.
“Sweetie, I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you this late in the day, walking down the side of a road alone. Where do you live?”
It was obvious from the look Sophia gave her that she wasn’t used to being mothered.
“I can’t let you take me all the way home. Ma Deary would…” She shuddered. “How about you drop me off at the little dirt path that leads to the farm?”
Ethel agreed and followed Sophia’s directions to the path. The area was nothing but trees and bushes, wide-open and rural. She could hear the crickets and nocturnal creatures settling into the evening. “Are you sure you are going to be all right?”
“Trust me, Mrs. Gathers, it’s a short walk. The house is right past that clearing. I’ve been doing it all my life.”
“Please call me whenever you can. I’m home most days before three. We’ll figure out what’s next together.” She reached down to the floor and passed the tin canister to Sophia out the window. “What’s this?”
“Something my mother left for me. I’ll open it when I’m ready.” Sophia attempted a smile, but it landed as a grimace, and then she turned down the narrow path.
Ethel sat and waited, listening for any noise that would tell her the girl was endangered. When she felt satisfied that Sophia was fine, she steered the car back toward the highway and headed for her home in Washington, D.C. If she wasn’t attached to Sophia before, she certainly was now. As she drove, she racked her brain for what she could do next.
CHAPTER 53Philadelphia, PA, January 1955
OZZIE
Ozzie paced the halls of the maternity ward at Mercy-Douglass Hospital. His nerves were thinner than piss on a plank, and the thought that a shot of whiskey would calm him down fluttered through his head, but he dismissed it as he turned into the waiting room. Against the wall was a Kwik Kafe vending machine, and his hands were shaking so badly that he dropped the nickel three times for the cup of coffee he tried to purchase.
On the television fastened to the wall was an episode ofI Love Lucy,and the noise of Lucy and Desi’s shenanigans further irritated him. Ozzie was so wrapped up in his anxiety and agitation that he hadn’t noticed the man sitting in the corner until his voice reached him across the room.
“Where do you hide the booze so your wife doesn’t know how much you really drink?”
Trembling and startled, Ozzie looked up from where he knelt on the floor with the nickel in hand. “What did you say to me?”
The man released a hearty chuckle. “I always hid mine inside thetoilet tank, behind the pump and lift chain. My wife would never look there.”
Dusting off the knees of his work trousers, Ozzie said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
“My hands used to shake like that too. Worse was waking up drenched in sweat while shivering at the same time. I kept a fifth under the bed, within arm’s length, for those times in the middle of the night when the beast would demand to be fed.”
Every muscle in Ozzie’s body straightened. “Do I know you?”
“Name’s Joe.” He stood and took two long strides over to Ozzie and pumped his hand up and down. His grip was firm and his eye contact intense. The blue pullover he wore was bright and his twill pants were pleated.
“Ozzie,” he said, feeling dull in comparison to the man, who seemed to glow before him.
“Nice to meet you, brother. Let me help you with that machine.” Joe pulled a nickel from his own pocket, popped it in, and while waiting for the coffee, he asked, “Is this your first child?”
Ozzie didn’t answer.
“We are on baby number three. Praying Peggy gets her girl this time. We have two knucklehead boys at home, six and three. What are you hoping for?”
He thought of Katja, as he always did when people asked this question. He couldn’t bring himself to wish for another girl. “A boy.”
“Looks like you already had a few tastes today. Drink the coffee, so that when you see your family, you’ve sobered up some.”
Placing the cup to his mouth, Ozzie did as he was told.
Joe motioned for Ozzie to take a seat across from him in the gray plastic chairs against the wall. “I had my first drink when I was nine years old. Down in the backwoods of Amherst County. My daddy used to make corn liquor. Bootlegging was how he kept a roof overour heads. All nine of us. I’d sneak in the shed when he was away making deliveries and have myself a belly full. Till he caught me and tried to beat the black off me.” Joe grinned.
Ozzie didn’t even crack a smile. This man was a complete stranger, why was he telling him his personal business?
