Resting was for the dead, and what this baby would be if I didn’t find a way to save us.
I stepped over to the window and stared out past the thick-paneled curtain at the empty streets below.
Kneading my temples, I tried desperately to think of a way to save us, each time coming up blank and feeling more foolish.
This was a hospital, not a jail.If I left, Susan and the doctor would report that I walked out without an official release, freeing Mrs. Claxton from any blame.
To the east, a crooked moon appeared, dusted in cinnamon. Again, I scanned the rooftops and twinkling city lights. Louisville must have a thousand streets in its mazes.
Who was I fooling.I dropped the curtain.I couldn’t even find my way back to the tailor’s shop when it was just blocks down the street jutting up like a sore thumb.
The city lights blurred, and I turned my back to the window, burying the quiet sobs into my hands.
***
When the women returned, Susan stared at me for the longest time before she sat down on the bed. Mrs. Claxton eased herself onto the other side. Then Susan huddled us together, and we talked in hushed tones, batting words between us, our whispers soaking the pale-green walls.
More pinched talk crawled around us, and several words climbed out before Susan held a shushing finger to her lips.
Governor.
Johnna.
Drug.
Defiance.
Rose.
Church.
Library.
When we’d filled our beggar’s cup full of boldness, Susan stood, smoothed the seams of her uniform, and adjusted the sharp edges of her nurse’s cap. “Cussy, if you have any misgivings, you need to let me know now.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, chile?” Mrs. Claxton shifted tired bones, her eyes red-rimmed. “It could be risky, downright deadly,” she reminded me again.
“Yes,” I barely breathed.
The librarian stared at me like she needed to say more.
“Aunt Effie, let’s visit the cafeteria. They just remodeled it, and I bet you could use a fresh cup of coffee about now. Let me check on two of my patients, and I’ll meet you down there shortly.”
Mrs. Claxton looked like she was ready to protest.
“Cussy needs her rest, Auntie.” Susan patted my shoulder. “We’ll be back, hon. Press the buzzer if you need anything, and the nurses will come get me.” She walked her aunt to the door and lingered at the light switch before clicking it off, the bleached disinfectants and sterile odors suffocating the darkened room.
Mama had claimed the darkness brings doubt, just like the night brings fevers in young’uns.
But earlier I’d heard the feverish radio talk about the governor weakening his stance on Sassyann’s second execution, claiming he was in discussions with the attorney general, despite doctors declaring the woman was living in a vegetative state.
Then the news had tumbled into more bad broadcasts. An announcer said, “It’s taken quite a toll on the men’s prison, and research is ongoing as we await Salk’s latest trials…”
Jackson.
Pacing, I fought against the panic rising. Waited for my might to steal some courage.
Mrs. Claxton know’d a lot of important people.
