Them Bones

by Carolyn Haines

  Given our geographic location, Cece was hedging her bets. But it struck me that Hamilton, too, had referred to my “new PI business,” and with a certain degree of pride. I looked over the telephone at Jitty. “Should I?”

  “You’d be a fool not to,” she whispered, and then she smiled. “You’ll have more clients than you can shake a stick at.”

  “I’ll be there at ten,” I said to Cece.

  “Don’t forget the Danish, dahling,” Cece ordered. “One gets hungry in the pursuit of a good story.”

  I hung up the phone and turned to face Jitty. “Two weeks ago we were afraid we’d lose Dahlia House, I was unemployed, and I had given up on men and sanity.”

  “Honey, you’re doin’ fine in three out of four,” Jitty said, jangling her bracelets as she led the way to the kitchen for breakfast.

  For my childhood friend, Debby Porter Pruett. We survived the seventies—and the eighties. Get on your fancy high heels, girl, ’cause the new millennium belongs to us.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A native of Mississippi, Carolyn Haines Jives in southern Alabama on a farm with her horses, dogs, and cats. She was recently honored with an Alabama State Council on the Arts literary fellowship for her writing. A former photojournalist, she is active in organizations that rescue animals and promote animal rights.

  A Conversation with Carolyn Haines,

  author of Them Bones, Buried Bones,

  Splintered Bones, and Crossed Bones

  In response to a request from newspaper columnist Cece Dee Falcon, author Carolyn Haines agreed to answer some questions about her work, her characters, and the future of Zinnia, Mississippi. Although Cece wanted to conduct the interview, Jitty insisted on doing it. Since the weather was nice in Mississippi, Carolyn and Jitty met on the front porch of Dahlia House for a chat.

  JITTY: Before this interview actually gets started, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. I’m not responsible for all of Sarah Booth’s actions. That girl is so hardheaded, if she drowned, they’d have to search for her upstream. The way you write the book, sometimes it seems that I ought to have some influence with her. But I don’t. Nobody can influence a Delaney. Keep that in mind when you’re writin’ about us. Now that we’re clear on that point, we can get going.

  CAROLYN: Exactly what kind of questions do you have in mind?

  JITTY: Well, as the author, I thought maybe you could tell me, and everyone else, a little about the future. I mean Sarah Booth has lost her man and gotten an opportunity to start her own investigation service. There’s the chance she may carry the heir to Dahlia House. What does the future hold for us?

  CAROLYN: I see, you just want me to blurt out what’s going to happen next. As a mystery writer, I have to point out that’s against the rules.

  JITTY: Don’t be cute with me, girl. I’m nearly a hundred and fifty years old. I’d say that’s considerably your elder, though you aren’t gettin’ no shorter in the tooth. Didn’t your mama teach you not to sass your elders?

  CAROLYN: My mother had no idea I’d spend my time consorting with folks like you and Sarah Booth. My parents thought I’d be something respectable, like a journalist.

  JITTY: Are you mockin’ me?

  CAROLYN: Well, maybe just a little. To be honest, I’ve never been interviewed by a character. Let me ask you one question that’s been nagging at me. When you first walked onto the pages of my book, you were wearing this god-awful seventies outfit. Why the seventies? Bad clothes. Bad music. Why?

  JITTY: Havin’ lived through a number of decades, I got some historical perspective that you youngsters don’t have. Sarah Booth was right on the verge of losin’ everything she ever cared about, including our home. You picked up on the fact that Sarah Booth isn’t exactly smooth when it comes to handlin’ her men. It was up to me to do somethin’, and I figured that if she couldn’t catch her a man outright, then maybe she could at least get us an heir. The seventies were a time when women declared their sexual liberation. I thought I could give Sarah Booth a little nudge toward gettin’ the baby we both need.

  CAROLYN: Ah, I see. So it was just an empty threat when you said you’d follow Sarah Booth to eternity if she didn’t produce an heir for you to haunt?

  JITTY: I don’t know for certain. But neither one of us wants to risk it. Hush up now, I’m supposed to be askin’ the questions here.

  CAROLYN: Sorry. It’s just that I have a few questions of my own.

  JITTY: So I see, but the publisher didn’t give you this space to conduct an interview. They gave it to me. And I’m doin’ the askin’. You get to be in charge the whole time you’re writin’. This is my fifteen minutes, and you better back off.

  CAROLYN: My goodness, I’ll try to stay in line.

  JITTY: See that you do. Maybe you’d like a drink. Ghosts don’t have much truck with liquor, but Sarah Booth likes a mint julep ever’ now and then. Here you go, now sit back in that rocker and let’s talk. I’ve got a few more important questions. Sarah Booth let Hamilton slip back to Paris. He was a fine specimen, but he’s gone. Could you put in a good word for Harold? I mean, he’s solid and stable, and for a while there, he was burnin’ for Sarah Booth. As the author, couldn’t you reignite that fire?

  CAROLYN: Harold’s kind of busy. What about Sylvia Garrett? Should I just kill her off?

  JITTY: Girl, you got a sassy streak a mile wide in you. I didn’t ask you to kill anybody off. Couldn’t they just have a fallin’ out? How hard is that for you to write?

  CAROLYN: I don’t know, Jitty. Sarah Booth already dumped Harold once. I’ve gotten kind of fond of him. Maybe I don’t want to put him in the line of fire for that kind of abuse again.

  JITTY: What? Did I hear you right? Last time I looked, Harold was a man! Abuse won’t hurt him one little bit.

  CAROLYN: You’re sounding a little sexist, Jitty. Maybe I’ll put in some sensitivity training classes for you.

  JITTY: You remindin’ me a whole lot of Sarah Booth. Both of you stubborn and full of the devil. But forget about men, let’s move on. Is Sarah Booth really goin’ to become a private investigator?

  CAROLYN: She certainly has the talent. And I will tell you that in the next book she has a new client. I’m just a little worried, though. If she becomes successful as an investigator, you know what that means. She’ll have to make a choice, family or career.

  JITTY: Oh, no. Don’t be asking’ her to choose between savin’ Dahlia House or catchin’ her a man. Don’t do that!

  CAROLYN: But this is reality, Jitty. Women today have to juggle and choose. Just because Sarah Booth is a fictional character, I don’t think it’s good if she’s the perfect detective and the perfect wife and mother.

  JITTY: Girl, I was countin’ on you to help me talk some sense into Sarah Booth. She can do whatever she sets her mind to, and at the top of that list should be findin’ her a good man and a bundle of joy. I don’t think I like the influence you’re havin’ on her. I can see it’s goin’ to be up to me to put the emphasis where it belongs—on the family.

  CAROLYN: I’m not certain I like that look on your face. Jitty, what are you thinking?

  JITTY: You got your secrets, I got mine. Just remember. I been around a long, long time. You’re gonna have to wake up early to get one over on me.

  CAROLYN: I have to wake up early to get my writing done. And while we’re pointing out flaws, what about those nights you woke me up? You thought that was amusing, to slip into my dreams and make me get up and write?

  JITTY: It’s my job. Where would you be without me?

  CAROLYN: A lot better rested, I’m sure. Do you have any more questions?

  JITTY: I got a piece of advice—stop askin’ the questions. You’re like one of Oprah’s bad guests. You get to goin’ and all you want to talk about is yourself.

  CAROLYN: Jitty, dusk is approaching. Forgive me if I say I’m not inclined to hang out on the porch of Dahlia House after dark with a ghost. If you want to know something else, you’d bette
r ask.

  JITTY: You write a lot of other things. Are you goin’ to be able to give me the attention I deserve?

  CAROLYN: Absolutely. It goes without saying, Jitty, that you’re not easily ignored. All of you, Sarah Booth, Harold, Hamilton, Tinkie, Tomeeka, Millie—you all demand your due.

  JITTY: That’s good to know. Just a few more questions. Were you a Daddy’s Girl?

  CAROLYN: Only in the sense that I was an only daughter. I grew up in the pine barrens of Mississippi, way down in the southeast corner in a small town called Lucedale. There weren’t any plantations around those parts, mostly small farms and paper company land. But I’ve known a few Daddy’s Girls. It’s an interesting culture, and one that’s fading away. Like everywhere else, Mississippi is changing.

  JITTY: What’s your fascination with the Delta?

  CAROLYN: Now, that’s a good question. The Mississippi Delta is this huge triangle of land bordered on the west by the Mississippi River and a line of hills on the east. They say the topsoil is eight feet deep. Back in your day, it was the part of Mississippi with working plantations, and it’s where the blues was born. The story goes that the cotton fields were so vast that the slaves would call out to one another, passing the messages or songs from one to another across the fields. That’s how the call-back, or repeated lines, came to be so much a part of the blues.

  JITTY: The blues is some mighty powerful music. My man, Coker, now he could sing. I sure miss him sometimes. Hey, maybe you could write me a new man.

  CAROLYN: Maybe if I found a man for you, you’d leave Sarah Booth alone.

  JITTY: I’m not shirkin’ my responsibilities for any reason. I can manage career and a personal life. But let’s get back on track. What’s Sarah Booth going to get into next?

  CAROLYN: I’m not Madame Tomeeka, and I can’t predict the future, but since I’ve started writing the next book, I can give you a hint. A famous literary figure is murdered, and Sarah Booth is hired to find his killer.

  JITTY: Don’t be putting my girl in danger.

  CAROLYN: She is a private investigator, Jitty.

  JITTY: Is Harold in this book?

  CAROLYN: Indeed he is. And Tinkie, Tomeeka, Cece, Chablis, and the other residents of Zinnia. Of course there’ll be a few new characters. Do you think Sarah Booth would like to meet an artist from Nicaragua? He’s a very charming man.

  JITTY: He’s not the killer, is he?

  CAROLYN: I haven’t finished the book yet. I’m waiting on Sarah Booth to solve the mystery.

  JITTY: She already has a problem with men, don’t go gettin’ her involved with a killer. And one who’s not even from Mississippi! I don’t think this is a good idea. What would I do if Sarah Booth decided to move off to Nicaragua followin’ some man? Just give her another shot at Harold.

  CAROLYN: We’ll see.

  JITTY: Come on, you can tell me. Who’s the killer?

  CAROLYN: You’ll have to wait, Jitty, like the rest of us.

  JITTY: Well, don’t think I’m goin’ to be easy to manage. I know what Sarah Booth needs, and it looks like I’m gonna have to struggle against both of you to get it for her. But I have a plan.

  CAROLYN: Uh-oh. What kind of plan?

  JITTY: Let’s just say that I’ve been studyin’ up on some of that psychology Sarah Booth thinks so much of. I’m determined to be a better influence on her this time. I’m gonna be a role model she can be proud of. Maybe I can even get my own television show—Jitty Knows Best.

  CAROLYN: Why does the sound of that frighten me?

  JITTY: Good, solid family values. That’s what Sarah Booth needs. It’s been good talkin’ with you, Miss Author, but I’d better get back to business. You keep on writin’, girl, and I’ll be seein’ you in your dreams.