The tears fell, uncontrolled, from my eyes. I wobbled, knees weak at the thought of giving in to hope. My hands on the counter, I steadied my body. But my ideas got away, spinning wildly.
“I wish this wasn’t my life,” I whispered, closing my eyes.
“What’s that?”
“Why do we have to live like this?”
“I don’t know.”
“It isn’t fair.” I opened my eyes and turned around, my back to the counter.
He sighed.
“What do we do if Marlowe’s not there anymore?” I asked. “What if she’s...” The word stuck in my throat like a lump, refusing to emerge.
Titus walked over to me, putting his plate on the counter.
“Marlowe isn’t dead,” he said. “I know she’s there. A guy at the mine’s been talkin’ about a girl he seen there. He been real mean and dirty about her. I liked to have killed him. But he told me all about her. It sounded like Marlowe. I know it’s her.”
“You think you might see her?”
“I aim to.”
“If you see her, tell her that I love her. And I miss her.” I touched his arm. “Tell her that I haven’t forgotten her.”
“If I see her, I’m gettin’ her outta there. Right then.” The twitch of his eyelid jostled a tear loose.
The gravel of our driveway crunched under the weight of a truck.
“That’s him,” Titus said.
The truck’s horn blared.
“You better go.”
“Take care of Ma. I’ll be back late.” He kissed me on the forehead. This time I didn’t flinch.
“Be careful,” I begged. “You’re all I have.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
The door slammed behind him.
A small, blue paint chip remained on my hand, still attached to my skin.
Dot – 34
“Here you are,” Paul said, walking me up the porch steps.
“Yup, here I am,” I said, turning to face him.
“Thanks for letting me hang out with you tonight.” He put his hands in his pockets. “It was really great to talk and catch up a little.”
“It was.” I looked at my feet. I hated my ugly shoes. I’d forgotten to change into Grace’s.
“This is always the weird part, right?”
“I know. Or, really, I don’t.” I looked up. “This was my first date.”
“Really?” He smiled sweetly.
“I know. It’s lame.”
“Not lame at all.” He hesitated. “You know, Pete told me that he wanted me to take you to prom when you got old enough. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to trust any other guys with you.”
“He was an awesome big brother. I miss him so much.”
“Me too.”
I turned, checking to see if any girls stared down at us from my window. The house was quiet.
“Well, listen, I need to get inside. It’s close to time.” I turned awkwardly. “Thanks for dinner and coffee.”
“You’re welcome.”
I opened the door just as Lola walked into the entryway. She had on a jacket and her bag was slung across her shoulder.
“Hey, Lola, I’m back. You can call off the search party,” I said. “I’m even a few minutes early.”
“Oh, Dorothea,” she said. “Promise is gone.”
“Where did she go?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What about the baby?”
“She left him here.” She grabbed the van keys from her purse. “Let’s go.”
“Lola, the van’s still in the college parking lot.”
“You’re right.” She pointed at Paul. “Do you mind being our driver?”
“No problem,” Paul said.
“The pastor’s wife is here, Peace and Mercy are taking care of Nesto.” She closed the door behind her, locking the deadbolt with her key. “We’re all set. Let’s go find Promise.”
“Where should we go first?” Paul asked.
“The streets. I’ll direct you.” Lola looked into my face. “Did she say anything about where she would go?”
“Yeah. There was a club she wanted to work at in Muskegon. But she didn’t have a ride. She was going to stay with somebody downtown.”
“Well, that’s a beginning, isn’t it.”
We walked to Paul’s car. I grabbed Lola’s arm and whispered in her ear, “He doesn’t know.”
“About you?”
I nodded.
“Right,” she said. “I’ll be careful.”
Paul drove us all over the city. Lola directed him to the side streets where the dim lights made it the perfect place to hide what was going on. A few girls stood on a corner. They gawked into the cars driving past, waiting for one to stop.
A car idled on the side of the road. One of the girls climbed in. The car sped away.
“What would Promise be doing down here?” Paul asked.
“This was her track,” Lola said.
“Her what?”
“This is where she worked. I apologize for being unable to sugar coat this for you, Paul. Promise was prostituted here.”
Paul swallowed a few times before he was able to say anything. “Was she old enough for that?”
“Son, most of the girls out here start pretty young.”
“How old?”
“Sixteen. Fourteen. Twelve.”
“That’s not even legal,” he said. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything about that?”
“We’re trying, Paul. We truly are. It’s a victory that must be achieved one person at a time.” Lola patted him on the shoulder. “For the moment, that one person is Promise.”
We searched for hours. Paul drove us up and down the streets. Lola went into strip clubs to ask about her. I asked a few of the girls standing on the corners. No one had seen her.
“It’s four a.m.,” Lola said. “We should head back to the house.”
“Shouldn’t we keep looking?” Paul asked.
“Paul, you are a dear, and I hope you don’t think my heart calloused for saying this. But if Promise doesn’t want to be found, we’ll continue to search in vain. She will come home eventually.”
Paul drove us home and then walked us to the front door.
“What’s going to happen to her baby?” Paul asked.
“She left the adoption papers signed and on her bed. There is a family interested in bringing Nesto into their home.” Lola unlocked the door. “I’ll have to call Child Protective Services as soon as I get inside. Then his new family will be granted custody, I imagine.”
“Hey, Lola,” a man whispered from the hammock. “Don’t get scared or nothin’.”
“Antonio?” Lola asked. “What ever are you doing here?”
“Listen, I heard about Jenny. Can I talk to you without somebody shootin’ me?”
Antonio sat up. Paul held the hammock to steady it.
“Thanks, man,” he said. “So, Lola, you gotta believe I didn’t have nothin’ to do with Jenny leavin’.”
“Do you have any idea where she went?”
“Yeah.” He coughed. “She said she had to get outta here.”
“You spoke with her?”
“Yup. She got a cell phone.”
“Do you know how she came by one?”
“She got herself a new pimp. Outta Muskegon.”
“Thank you very much for telling me.”
“Whatcha gonna do now?”
“Pray that she contacts us.”
“That’s it? Why don’t we go find her?” Antonio sounded scared.
“I truly appreciate your concern for her. Your compassion is moving. My fear is that if we continue to search, she’ll be in even more danger. We don’t know what this new pimp may do if he feels threatened.” Lola sighed. “Our best chance is if she calls.”
“What about the kid? You said you’re callin’ CPS on him.”
“Yes. He’ll be assigned to a social worker who will facilitate the adoption.�
�
“That’s it, then?”
“I don’t suppose you are asking to take custody of him.”
“No.” Antonio stepped off the porch. “Just make sure that family gets him. It’s better for him. I’m sure Jenny picked some good people.”
He walked away, hands in his pockets, head down.
“You can’t save everybody, Lola.” I put my arm around her shoulders.
“I know.” She hugged me. “I can’t save anyone. That’s Jesus’s job. I just try to let the Holy Spirit do His work through me.”
“What can I do?” Paul asked.
“Actually, not a whole lot right now.” She looked at him. “Except, please pray for Promise.”
“I can do that.” He waited until we stepped inside. “Listen, I’ll be at my parents’ house tonight. Call if you need anything. Dot has the number.”
“Thank you,” I said, waving before I closed the door.
In my room, Grace snored loudly. I tossed, unable to sleep. I imagined Promise, unsafe and hiding her fear by getting high or drunk. Or both. I sat up in bed, giving up on sleep. I walked downstairs as quietly as I could. Entering the kitchen, I decided to get started making breakfast.
Cora – 35
“I guess I just don’t understand how Ducky’s stayed open.” Lisa sat, curled up on the couch, enthralled. “I mean, child prostitution, illegal moonshine, gambling. You’d think the police would have shut the place down.”
“Oh, no. Ducky owned the town.” I scratched my arm. The cuts I’d made after Stewart’s suicide were healing and itchy. “Everyone claimed to hate him and what he did. But no one would have had anything without him. He owned the grocery store, the gas station, just about everything. If someone had a job on that mountain, they ultimately worked on his payroll. And he was dangerous. If he couldn’t buy a person’s silence, he found other means.”
“How terrible,” Lisa said. “Go on.”
~*~
After Titus left, I kept myself busy, trying to keep the hope of escape out of my mind.
I made mush of a plateful of casserole and carried it to the bedroom.
“Mother,” I said, turning on the lamp next to her bed. “Let’s get some dinner into you.”
She fluttered her eyes open and shut, shaking her head. I propped her up in the bed. Spooned food into her mouth. She pushed it with her tongue against the place her front teeth had been only a week before.
“No more,” she said after only a few small bites. “It just hurts.”
“Your teeth?” I asked.
“They aren’t healed yet.” She put her fingers to her lips. “Your father sure did hit me hard to knock them out like that.”
“Should I see if the doctor can give you some medicine?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Just the sleeping pills, darling.”
She swallowed the medication, and I covered her up. Tucked her in.
I went to the living room. I pulled up one of the loose floor boards in the kitchen and retrieved my copy of Sense and Sensibility. I’d found it under my parent’s bed. Just a plain blue cover with simple gold letters. A remnant of my mother’s childhood possessions. Sitting in the rocking chair, I read about beauty, love, loyalty. I read until my eyes grew heavy. Until I fell asleep, slumped in the chair, the book open on my lap.
Pounding noises on the door woke me. Gasping, I opened my eyes wide. The book fell to the floor.
“It’s the sheriff. Come, open the door, Ms. Yarborough,” a voice called from the porch.
I went to the door and unlocked it. The sheriff stood on the porch, eyes tired.
“Young lady, I gotta talk to your mama,” he said.
“She’s sleeping.” I peeked around the door. “She took her pills and she won’t be up until morning.”
“Well, I guess you’re gonna be the one comin’ with me to the station.”
“Did something happen?”
“I can’t tell ya a thing right now. You just have to come with me.” He turned around. “Get in the car.”
He let me sit in the front seat. We didn’t talk on the drive to the station. I saw the trees blur as he drove faster and faster. When we arrived at the station, the lights blazed through all the windows. A small, cube building, it held only one cell.
“I got a fresh pot a’ coffee on, if ya wanna drink some,” he said, leading me to the door.
We walked into the building. It smelled like too-strong coffee and another odor. A horrible, thick, stomach-sickening stench. I’d never smelled anything like it before that day.
I looked in the prison cell. A sheet covered something on the floor. I knew that it covered a human.
“Is that person dead?” I asked, unable to take my eyes from the form.
“Sure is,” he answered, slinging back a small cup of coffee. “I’m gonna need ya’ to take a look at that there body. Need ya’ to tell me if you know anything about this. And I expect the truth. Ya hear?”
“How did that body get in here?” I asked, whispering.
He hesitated. “Well, young lady. I don’t know.” He looked at me, ashamed. “I guess somebody dumped it on the front step out there.”
“And you want me to look at it?”
“Yup. I gotta make sure it’s who I think it is.”
With a sinking, out of control, dizzying sensation, I moved toward the bars of the cell. I leaned against them to keep myself from collapsing. The shape of the body appeared to be tall, slender. The sheet soaked up the red that bled out of the chest.
Let it be my father, I prayed silently.
The sheriff stooped next to the body. He grabbed hold of one edge of the sheet and pulled it away from the face.
“No,” I cried. “No. Jesus, no.”
I stepped in the direction of the body, but stumbled, legs weak. I fell next to the edge of the sheet. Pushing myself up, I grabbed the sheet and ripped it off the rest of the way, revealing the whole body. I touched the sandy blond hair, full of coal dust.
Unbearable pain clenched my chest. Tears wouldn’t come, no matter how I tried to release them. To scream and tear at the sheriff. To insist that justice be served for Titus. For Marlowe. For my family.
But, instead, I knelt quietly, touching my brother’s face and hair. I couldn’t do anything else.
“Can ya’ tell me who this is?” the sheriff asked.
“My brother,” I whispered.
“And what was his full name for the record, ma’am?”
“Titus Carlton Yarborough,” I answered, weak and exhausted.
Large, jagged holes were torn into my brother’s chest. I covered them with my hands, wishing I could push the life back into him. That I could scoop up all his lost blood and force it back into his veins.
“Ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask ya not to touch that body no more.”
“How did this happen?” I asked, turning my eyes up to the sheriff.
“Oh. Well, I ain’t got the right to tell ya that, little girl.”
“My name is Cora. You know that, sheriff.” My boldness surprised me.
“Cora, I can’t tell ya what happened.” He pushed me back and pulled the sheet back over Titus’s body, leaving only his face uncovered. “You’re just a little girl.”
“Sheriff, I am far more grown-up than you think. You have no idea what life is like for me. So, please, just tell me what happened.”
He told me that Titus was in a room with one of the girls at Ducky’s. He broke out the window. They accused him of skipping out on paying. He slipped past the bouncer, holding the hand of the girl, pulling her with him. He meant to take her from Ducky. One of the men unloaded his gun into Titus’ chest.
“Who was the girl?”
“I don’t know nothin’ about none of them girls. Ducky don’t keep records. Ain’t no business of mine.”
“Who shot him?”
The sheriff shifted his weight, uncomfortable. He avoided my eyes.
“You tell me who shot my br
other,” I yelled.
“Well, I don’t know for sure. You need to stop askin’ questions, little girl. You don’t know who you’re talkin’ ’bout right now.” He stepped out of the cell. “You go ahead and say your last good-byes. I best be takin’ you home real soon.”
Disregarding the sheriff, I touched Titus’s face one last time. The rough stubble on his chin. The strong cheek bones. His blood still wet on my hands, I marked his cheeks with my touch. I covered his face with the sheet. The only proper burial he would receive.
“Let’s get ya home, missy.” The sheriff pulled me up. “Don’t want your mama to wake up without ya there.”
That mountain held me captive. In that little shack. And the force that detained me was far stronger than my father. I resolved to turn my heart off to hope.
I had no one left to protect me from the dangers that surrounded me.
Or so I thought.
Dot – 36
“How’s the breakfast coming along?” Lola asked when she walked into the kitchen later that morning.
“Okay, so far.” I checked the cinnamon rolls in the oven. The sweet fragrance of dough and cinnamon mingled with the rich aroma of coffee. My stomach grumbled with hunger. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thanked God for coffee this morning.”
“I’m sure I could guess.” She poured herself a cup.
“How are you doing?” I asked, mixing the ingredients for some icing. “Losing Promise was a shock, huh?”
“Not really all that surprising.” She sat in her seat at the table. “I saw a lot of warning signs. I was just praying that she’d let the Holy Spirit tug at her heart.”
“How many girls have run away like that?”
“Well, in twenty years I’ve had fourteen go back to the streets.” She frowned. “And each one breaks my heart all over again. It is a harsh life to which they return.”
“I’m sorry, Lola.”
“I know. Me, too.” She paused. “I just have to trust that the Lord will have His will in her life. It’s the same hope I have for all of you.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if everything would just work the way we wanted it to?”
“Oh, no, Dorothea. I know my mind far too well to desire that.” She looked at me. “I regret that we haven’t been able to talk about your get-together with Paul.”
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