Ozzie’s head swam, and even though he didn’t have answers, he knew for certain that he would not abandon his child. He had watched his mother struggle without much help from his father, and he vowed to himself that he would never do that to his baby.
Ozzie pulled Jelka to her feet and squeezed her hands. “Give me some time. We’ll figure this out.”
All of a sudden, Ozzie felt exhausted. He knew a beer or two would not be enough to help digest this news.
Jelka moved to kiss his lips, but Ozzie turned, and she only got his cheek. She looked at him and then walked away. Ozzie shoved his hands in his pockets and went back to the table where his friends sat eating bratwurst.
The Negro women were gone. Ozzie’s collar felt like it was restricting the airflow to his lungs, so he undid two buttons.
“Everything all right, lover boy?” Morgan teased.
“Have you seen our waitress?” Ozzie fidgeted. “We’re going to need to order a bottle.”
CHAPTER 18West Oak Forest Academy, November 1965
SOPHIA
Sophia gasped and sat up in bed as cold water dripped down her face. When she opened her eyes, Willa was standing over her, holding a glass.
“What the heck, Sophia? You scared me half to death.”
Sophia blinked. Her lashes were heavy with water, and her arms burned. It had happened. After nearly two months of wearing herself out at basketball practice, praying to Walter’s God, and denying herself sleep, her secret was out. She was a freak.
“What in the world were you dreaming about?”
Besides Walter, Willa was the only person ever to ask her that question. On the farm, Ma Deary just yelled at her to get herself together and stop disturbing the peace with her nonsense.
“A fire,” she answered hoarsely.
“Were you in it?”
Sophia nodded.
Willa picked up a face towel from her desk and handed it to her. “Sorry about the water, I didn’t know what else to do. You were screaming and scratching your arms.”
“It’s okay.” Sophia wiped her face. Water had dripped down into the neck of her nightgown, soaking her to the waist.
“Tell me about the dream.”
Sophia closed her eyes. “I’m in a kitchen. In the back of a big house. Small children are eating at a table, two and sometimes three. And then all of a sudden there are flames. Everywhere. Lapping and licking. Hot. The smoke is choking the wind out of me and stinging my eyes. I try to reach for the children to save them, but just as I do, flames shoot up my arms. I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”
“Have you ever talked to anyone about this? Like a doctor?”
A snort puffed from Sophia’s nose before she could censor it. Ma Deary never took them to the doctors. If they got sick, Ma would administer her own remedy. The only time anyone had ever gone to the hospital was when Walter fell out of a tree and broke his arm. But even then it was Unc who had taken him, not Ma Deary.
“No.” Sophia got out of her bed, pushing the sheets to the side so they could air-dry.
“Well, my father is a doctor. Maybe when you meet him, he can help you.”
“Maybe,” she said, knowing that she would never ask Willa’s father to fix her. It was one thing for Willa to know, but Sophia didn’t want her parents to think their precious daughter was rooming with someone who was sick in the head.
The floor was cold as Sophia padded to her closet. She turned her back to Willa and slipped out of the wet nightgown and into her Wranglers and an oversize T-shirt.
“You do know the fall dance is approaching.” Willa sat down at her desk and looked at her face in a hand mirror.
Sophia had seen flyers up all over school but had no intention of going.
“My mother sent me a picture of the dress she ordered for me. Want to see it?”
