Authors: Patricia Hickman
“She’ll be back for the evening feeding, so you better get used to seeing her. I’m glad you’re taking such an interest, though.
You’re better company for her than me.”
“What you feed her in between times?”
“Angel put together some formula. You’ll find it in the icebox. We warm the bottles in a pan of hot water over the stove.”
Jeb noticed a scar on her arm.
“Folks around here mind you having coloreds living with you?”
“I’m more concerned about where you’ll sleep when Angel comes home.”
“How you come by all these youngens?”
“Fate.”
“We heard you was the preacher that took in stray children.”
“Apparently so did someone else. How did you come to hear about me?”
“Church people talk about everything.”
“You nailed that right. I’m worried about you not attending school, Lucky.”
“I got pulled out of school long time ago to help my auntie. Ever since, I been working to help bring up her babies. All I
know is bringing up babies.”
“What’s your auntie’s name?”
Lucky gazed to the right. “We call her Auntie.”
“She must miss having you around.”
“Too many mouths to feed.”
“Willie and Ida May will be home soon. Get to know them. I’ve got a load of wood to deliver. You think you’ll be all right
here by yourself?”
“I do well by myself, Reverend. I can take care of myself fine.”
“I believe it.” Her name suited her.
The sky darkened and Fern’s oldest brother told her they should wait until morning to leave. Fern agreed but kept gathering
up her belongings until they were nearly packed and waiting at the front door. “Ladies, we may as well leave. We can stay
at that same inn if we get there before midnight.”
“Take this food with you, honey. We have more than we can eat.” Fern’s mother had a tone of resignation.
“We’ll not have to stop for food this go-around,” said Florence.
“I want to pay for your gas,” said Mrs. Coulter. She held out several bills.
“It’s not necessary,” said Fern.
“Let me do something, for goodness’ sake! You always have to be so much like your father?”
“I love you, Mother.” They kissed. Fern accepted the money.
“Angel, you can come and stay with me anytime. You’re a perfect guest. You too, Mrs. Bernard.”
Florence and Mrs. Coulter exchanged pleasantries. Angel and Fern loaded up the luggage. Fern’s brother insisted on checking
out Jeb’s pistol, so Angel retrieved it for him. “I practice-shot it before,” she said.
“You good with a revolver?” he asked. His name was Buddy.
“Not as good as my brother. But a lot better aim than Miss Coulter.”
“That I believe. Sis was always better on the archery range.”
“Your family has a nice house,” said Angel. “Is that your wife?” She had had trouble matching up all of Fern’s brothers with
their women.
“Esther. We married six months ago. Otherwise I’d be setting my sights on a girl as pretty as you.” He winked at Fern.
“You don’t have to say that,” said Angel.
“It’s true. Fern, I sure wish you’d wait until morning. But I guess you’ll be safe here with young Annie Oakley.”
“She wasn’t afraid of Bonnie and Clyde. I guess if we meet up with Dillinger, she’ll stand up to him too,” said Fern.
The Coulters all stared at one another.
“She’s not lying,” said Florence. “About Bonnie and Clyde.”
“They seemed decent enough people, I thought,” said Angel.
“Don’t tell me anything else,” said Mrs. Coulter. “Fern, you stay away from gangsters. My heart can’t take much more.”
Fern said her good-byes and ushered Angel and Florence off to her idling car. “Look at that streak of pink sunset breaking
through. It’ll be a pretty night for driving.”
“That Nigra girl’s sleeping in Angel’s bed?” asked Willie.
“I could give her yours if your conscience is bothering you.” Jeb was tired from hauling wood. The families with enough cash
for wood had almost bargained him out of business. “Ida May, go wash up the dishes. Don’t leave Lucky to do all the work.”
“You already got people griping about a little one; now you got a big girl from Tempest’s Bog living here too,” said Willie.
“She’s not from Tempest’s Bog.”
“Not that I care.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“Her family care that she’s here?”
“I thought you didn’t care.”
“I don’t. But where’s her family anyway?”
“Hope. Her minister brought her here. You got any more questions?”
“When’s Angel and Miss Coulter coming home?”
“Not that you care.”
“I don’t care.”
“I miss them too. Women shouldn’t be on the road without an escort in this day and age.”
“Who’d want to mess with Angel? She ain’t the best-looking girl and she’s not bright or nothing.”
“Willie, you got anything nice to say about anyone?”
“I got a B on my spelling test today.”
“Jeb, Lucky is the same color as Myrtle.” Ida May stood at the door wearing an apron that touched the floor.
“Thank you, Ida May. You finished with the dishes?” Jeb asked.
“I’m drying. Lucky is a good dishwasher.” She turned and joined Lucky at the sink.
“When I grow up, I’m only going to have one child and give him all the attention he wants,” said Willie.
“Sharing space makes you humble, Willie.”
“It’s dark out. Mind if I go and check my coon traps?”
“It’s cold. Get on your coat.” He watched through the window, watched Willie’s waving lantern swinging back and forth through
the woods. Willie was good on his own. He never worried over him like he did Angel.
It was black outside, and with the cloud cover, it was as though the sky had been erased.
Jeb pictured Fern and Angel seated around the Coulter piano singing silly songs that rich people liked to sing off-key. The
thought of that kind of scene comforted him.
“I know it’s a long road, but it just seems this car’s been behind us for a long time,” said Angel. “After we stopped at that
store for Cokes, I noticed it.”
“Florence, can you read your watch?” asked Fern.
Florence held up her watch until the lights from behind them illuminated it. “It’s quarter past eight. We still got several
hours to go until we find that inn.”
“They’re speeding up. I’m getting the pistol, just in case.” Angel pulled out the revolver.
“Put it away. It makes me nervous,” said Florence. “How are we doing on fuel?”
“We’re fine for now,” said Fern. “Angel, I would feel better too if you’d put away the gun. It doesn’t do us any good to get
excited about nothing.”
“Let’s talk about what we’ve done so far,” said Florence. “I like the fact that we’ve taken a trip on our own, no men telling
us what to do. No one asking us to darn something or sew on a button.”
“Not like that would do any good. I can’t sew a stitch,” said Fern. It made Florence laugh.
“If I have sons, they’re going to sew on their own buttons,” said Angel.
“Jeb does seem a little dependent on the mercy of women,” said Fern.
“He’s all right, I guess. Not a lot going on when he gets in the kitchen.” Angel slipped her feet out of her shoes. Her toes
had turned white at the tops like they did when she was outgrowing another pair of shoes.
“Angel, this car does seem to be shining its lights through our back glass.”
“Speed up, Miss Coulter. See if they do anything.”
Fern slowly pressed the gas pedal and increased the speed. “Don’t look back,” she said. “Stay forward. I can see them in the
mirror.”
“When my husband was home, it seemed to me that he was always needing me to fix this or that or clean a mess of squirrels.
After he left me, I wondered if I had complained once too often.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Florence. Bad times can cause a man to do things he never thought he’d do. Ladies, we do have a car
on our tail.”
The automobile sped around Fern’s car and then, after driving back in front of them, slowed.
Angel reached for the pistol again and slipped back into her shoes.
“She still here?” Belinda asked it as though she expected Lucky to be gone.
“Lucky is living with us for now to help out with Myrtle,” said Jeb. He handed Belinda her Friday pay.
“Why you come so late? This baby’s apt to starve before you get here.”
“Hand me the baby, girl, and go tend to your other chores.”
“Myrtle is my chore.”
“When I’m here, you best make yourself useful elsewhere. I won’t abide a girl like you giving me grief every time I walk through
this door. I was looking for a job when I found this one.”
“Lucky, how about putting beans on to soak?” asked Jeb. When Lucky met him in the kitchen, he said, “Lucky, I can’t have you
running Belinda off. You keep causing problems and I’ll have to ask Reverend Williamson to take you back to your folks.”
“Don’t, Reverend. They would put me out. It’s too cold to be put out nights.”
Jeb could not tell if she was lying or not. “I’m not threatening you, Lucky. But I’m stuck with Belinda.”
“I won’t say another word. But she don’t care nothing for that baby. You ought to see her, the way she act when you leave.
Once you’re gone, she do whatever she please, smoke in your place, eat from your icebox without asking.”
“I’ll talk to her. But please leave the room when she walks in.”
“You mean, stay in my place.”
“That’s not what I mean at all. I mean, do like boxers do. Go to your corner and she’ll go to hers and we’ll all have some
peace.”
Myrtle let out a cry. Lucky came to her feet.
“I’ll check on Myrtle. Will you kindly put on the beans to soak?”
Jeb found Belinda holding the baby out, arm’s length.
“Tell that girl to come and change this baby. She’s soiled herself and I ain’t in the mood.”
“Lucky, would you come and tend to Myrtle?”
Lucky took the baby and left the room without saying a word.
“How long you going to be able to tolerate her, Reverend? She’s got a mouth on her. I’d slap her, if I was you.”
Jeb took his Bible out onto the porch and called for Willie. He saw the lantern moving slowly up the path. Willie had trapped
one raccoon.
“I heard a bobcat caterwauling, Jeb. I’m not going out at night again without my rifle.”
“Well, you’d best get it before going inside. It’s worse in there than it is out here.”
Fern hit the brakes. The car had screeched to a stop, sliding sideways and blocking the road.
Angel felt like all the air had been squeezed from her gut. She removed the safety from the pistol.
“This can’t be good,” said Florence. Her voice was tinny, like she couldn’t get a breath.
One man emerged from the driver’s side of the vehicle and then the other door opened. Another man stepped out of the passenger
side of the car. They were barely visible in Fern’s automobile lights, wearing coveralls and old coats.
Fern hit the gas pedal. The car lurched. She hit the man from the driver’s side and then slammed the brakes down. “Oh, sweet
mother, I’ve killed him!”
“Run over him, Miss Coulter!” The pistol quivered in Angel’s hand.
Fern’s forehead slumped against the steering wheel. She kept muttering how she had killed a man.
The passenger threw open Angel’s door. “Give me your handbags, ladies!”
“Back off, or I’ll blow your head off and your friend’s too!” Angel’s arms stiffened and she took aim.
The man dropped a knife onto the ground. A third man leaped from their rear seat.
“Mercy, a third one!” Florence shrieked.
Angel cocked the pistol.
The second man ran and dragged his friend back to the car. They all jumped in and drove off.
Fern had not let go of the steering wheel for one second.
“Angel, you ran them off!” Florence said.
“You think I killed him?” Fern squeaked.
“Drive, Miss Coulter. You did the right thing. You did what anyone would do. Besides, they’ll have to take their buddy and
get him help. Maybe they’ll leave us alone now.”
“This has been a humdinger of a road trip, ladies!” said Florence.
W
HILE SOME PEOPLE MIGHT BE FRIGHTENED
to stand in front of a large group, Jeb hated nothing worse than a sparsely attended church service. It wasn’t the first time
members had punished him for disagreeing with them.
Ida May sat near Lucky in the rear of the church. Both girls were good about tending to Myrtle whenever she let out a whimper.
She had slept through most of Jeb’s message. The tension in the air kept everyone else awake.
Lucky had asked to stay home. Jeb would not hear of it.
Willie sat with a group of his buddies on the far side of the church, away from Lucky and the kind of trouble that had followed
her into the church.
Freda Honeysack left the building with Josie while Will hung behind. Jeb could see the anguish in his face as he walked up
the aisle. “I know what you’re going to say,” said Jeb.
“The church is split over the issue of their minister taking in coloreds,” said Will.
“I know you’re standing by me, Will,” said Jeb.
“You’re problem has doubled,” said Will.
“Lucky’s good with Myrtle. I can’t take care of an infant and make my rounds. Plus the offerings are low and I’ve started
cutting lumber to sell to make extra. I can’t do that with arms full of baby girl.” Jeb shook the Whittingtons’ hands. Floyd
and Evelene were at least polite. Sam and Greta Patton left the building without a glance his way.
“I agree with everything you’re saying. We just have to find a home for those children, though, before this blows up all over
us.”
“You see the way Sam looked at me this morning? Like he wanted to have me hanged.”
“This is not a light matter to some, Jeb.”
Jeb saw a group of girls gathered around Lucky and Ida May as they showed off Myrtle. Several of the women came and pulled
their daughters from Lucky’s circle of admirers until the two of them stood alone again. “Will, I should go.”
“Have you tried families outside of Nazareth? If you were anyone besides the minister, it wouldn’t be so bad. But some of
the families feel you’re trying to make a statement of some sort.”