This was a big city.
One of easily forgotten folks.
I fought between a life the babe could have and the death that was written just as sure as the crown found in the pillow.
“Don’t ya go and look back now,” Waldeen had said.
I toyed with my thoughts. There was always Queenie in Philadelphia. My old friend would help. But with no money for a rail or bus ticket, I wouldn’t get far. I could be jailed as a vagrant…if they didn’t shoot me first for being an escaped convict.
Rubbing my forehead, I pored over other ideas.
Mrs. Claxton had been so kind. She would be in a heap of trouble, maybe even lose her job. The law would likely accuse her of helping a criminal escape her custody and throw the woman in jail. I would never forgive myself, and I inhaled sharply at the vision of the librarian imprisoned like the inmates in the Geriatric Ward.
My heart sank as the truth settled over me. I was at the mercy of officials.
Suddenly, Mrs. Claxton screeched.
Turning to the house, I called out, “Mrs. Claxton?”
“Cussy,” her voice spilled out the open windows and into the yard. “Come quick, chile!”
Thirty-Six
I rushed inside while Daisy chased me into the kitchen, tangling our legs, nearly tripping us, our breaths mingling into worrisome gasps.
“What is it, Mrs. Claxton?” Daisy circled us and panted, her grin carrying the weight of the scare, the fright tinged white around her bulging eyes. “Is everything okay? Do you need an ambulance—?”
“You sure read a mess of books, but we don’t have ambulances here in Louisville,” she chided. “The police come in station wagons to transport the sick and wounded. This is something more.”
I studied her bright eyes, puzzled on what more it could be. “Do you have pains, ma’am, and need to see a doc? Where’s Reverend Claxton? I’ll go fetch him for you.” I shook my head, riddled that a big city like this didn’t have proper transport for those struck ill.
She picked up the morning newspaper off the table, then flipped the pages to a story with a photograph of her in front of the library at the top. The librarian tapped twice. “I couldn’t be better.”
“Ma’am.” I smacked the counter. “You nearly knocked the color off my skin.”
“Here, chile, just read this. Jed,Jed,get back in here.” Shepoked her head around the corner into their bedroom. “Jedidiah.Hurry now and run to the store and buy more papers.” She scrambled around the kitchen for her pocketbook, digging for change. “Cussy, we must send papers back home.Jedidiah. Jedidiah Claxton, hurry up before they’re all sold out.”
“Woman, you done sent me out once before sunrise. Not a soul stirring,” her husband complained, carrying his shoes across her spotless linoleum floor. “Nary a church mouse could be found scuttling around those dark streets.” He pulled out a chair and plopped down.
“Hidelman’s will be opening in ten minutes.” She scattered coins onto the table, counting.
“They spell my name right, Effie?” he asked, tying a shoelace.
“They did indeed, as a matter of fact. And used it again formine,” she said, a bother pinched on her lips.
“You got enough change there for me to send one to Brother back home?” Reverend stuffed his other sockless foot inside a shoe. “We need to send one to our daughter. And maybe—”
“Won’t Vesta be surprised. Oh, I can’t wait to show Susan.” Mrs. Claxton clapped her hands and then spilled more money from her coin purse.
I sat down and picked up the Saturday morning paper with Daisy’s head resting on my bare feet. Reaching under the table, I tickled her ears while reading the article, her breaths finally sliding into peaceful sighs after she was rudely awakened.
Mountain Women Teaching Literacy at Louisville Western Library
With the aid of state educator, president, and first woman of Kentucky Education Association Cora Wilson Stewart’s successful doctrine for teaching illiterates of Kentucky, California, New York, Massachusetts, Maryland, Texas, and dozens of other states to read and write, Louisville’s own seventy-one-year-oldlibrarian director Mrs. Jedidiah Claxton, wife of Reverend Jedidiah Charles Claxton, previously of Fishtrap, KY, along with Mrs. Jackson Lovett, a former Pack Horse librarian of Troublesome Creek, KY, and numerous volunteers, taught 219 illiterates living in the city of Louisville’s West End to write their signatures and begin a reading program in a span of four days. “It was also a joint effort between the mayor’s office, my staff, and local educators to offer accelerated reading classes to register more Negro voters,” Mrs. Claxton explained, thanking the mayor and crediting the success to the selfless contributions of her staff, area teachers, and the resolve of her newest library patrons. The free literacy classes will continue nightly M–F and will run from 6:00 to 9:30 p.m. at the Louisville Western Branch Library, 604 South Tenth Street.
“It’s a fine article, Mrs. Claxton, and a real pretty photograph of you. More will hear and join the program.”
Reverend pecked her cheek as he headed out.
