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 newferrierfarrier. 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 theArtharitusArthritis. 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 crittersjust 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-InTheaterTheatre 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.
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.
