“When did ya last play hide the wienie, kid?”
Mortified by the probing, I cupped a hand over my face and thought back to that night. We’d laid in each other’s arms, both afraid it would be our last time, and made love. He’d talked about wanting a baby and then awakened me at dawn only to take me one final time.
“The morning before they imprisoned us,” I whispered.
“As a madam who had herself a passel of girls and an even bigger passel of female troubles, I can assureyouit would’ve been too early for that rabbit to die. It takes weeks after a female conceives to show up in a bunny. Dumb rabbit would’ve been more likely to hightail it off the table and die of a broken neck than keel over from your pee. But still, four months is too long to not have your monthly.”
“The morning sickness has been churning inside a lot, but I just thought my nerves were skint. It’d be closer to fourteen weeks.”
“Well, kid, you’ve been stung by a serpent, as my grandma would say. Seen it too many times, and with more than a few of my working girls.”
My mind pored over it all.
Waldeen smiled, but it never jumped up into her troubling gaze. “Kid, if you’re pregnant, they won’t let ya keep—”
“Childing,” I whispered, a wonderment and more joy surging. “They can’t sterilize me now. I need to write Jackson right away. Please lend me a stamp. I’ll be getting mine soon and will pay you back.”
Waldeen shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. You don’t wantanyonefinding this out right now. They’ll abort it, sure enough.”
“Jackson will get word to the attorneys and Doc. They can help.”
Waldeen tsked.
“They’re going to do an abortion and sterilize me if I wait,” I said, a truth stitched into my moan. “One stamp, Waldeen.”
She grabbed my shoulders. “Kid, it’s risky.”
“It’s risky if I don’t. I can’t take a chance of losing the babe. I have to find a way to protect the babynow. They’ll not care how far I’m along. I need to plan for the baby’s safety this very minute.”
“It’d be suicide for ya.” She poked my belly, then studied me closely. “This sickness could mean other things, Cussy. Lots of women won’t bleed when they’ve got the nerves scratching at them. You’ve been through a lot.”
“Please, Waldeen. You can mail the letter out with your weekly invoices. No one will know.” I rubbed my cold, damp hands down my prison dress. “Have you heard any word on the polio outbreak at the men’s prison?”
“It’s bad over there. The guards were jawing about it this morning in the canteen, but I didn’t hear of any more deaths mentioned.”
It was a small comfort. If anyone could help, it would be Jackson. “Lend me the stamp before it’s too late. No one will know.” I held out a hand, a shake taking hold.
Scowling, she dropped her arms and went over to a drawer and dug out a sheet of paper and stamped envelope. “Kid, if ya ain’t careful, you’re gonna write yourself right into the bowels of hell.”
***
On Sunday, I sat in the library, savoring the words I’d written to Jackson, then finally drew and colored a bluet damselfly for my signature.
Something only he and Doc would connect to me.
And the one the ol’ mountain doc had proclaimed upon my arrival into the world. “A fit girl who could turn as blue as the familiar bluet damselfly skimming the Kentucky creek beds,” he’d said, then promptly bastardized meBluet.
Giddy, drunk on the thought of passing Jackson the news, I placed the letter in the envelope with the return address of the ol’ Carter homestead. I’d mail it Monday morning with Waldeen’s invoices.
I grabbed some books and headed toward the wards. Hummed one of Mama’s old French lullabies she used to sing to me. “One day, I will sing them to you, little one.” I walked lightly down the corridor and twirled around the darkened corner.
When I nearly ran into Officer Holt, he surprised me with aslight smile, not bothering to scold my silliness.
Nineteen
After visiting Geriatrics on Monday morning, I made my way back to the wing to mail the letter. I froze at the entry when I glimpsed her kneeling over my locker.
“No.” I pushed Regina aside. “Get away from my things!”
