“Here, ma’am, let me help you set them upright.” I fumbled with the wooden arm and finally turned the heavy rocker over, lifting it up.
“Lookin’ a li’l peaked today. Ya ailing, chil’？”
“Just a little tired, ma’am. Been sleeping poorly lately.”
She studied me a moment with her ol’ eyes, raised the back of her palm to my forehead, then glanced down at my belly. “Chil’， have ya been takin’ the dick too long?”
I stared at her slacked jaw.
“Ya can tell ol’ granny woman inna’thing. I’ve done heard and unheard it all.”
“No… No, ma’am!” I sputtered.
“Jus’ the insomnia?”
I nodded vigorously.
“Wait righ’ here.” She went inside and returned shortly with a silver dollar-sized ball of resin. “Chew a pinch of this gum opium before bed for the next seven nights. Should pert ya up good as new.” She shoved the sticky ball into my hand.
I slept sound that night, better than I had in months using Emma’s remedy, and I stuck the gum ball on the headboard to use the next night, and all the bad nights coming.
***
Breaths of sweet waters saturated the air as I made my way down Troublesome Creek toward the outpost.
Mr. Taft had left an envelope from Mr. Morgan on the table. Quickly, I tore it open to see the lawyer had scheduled the hearing for June 12. That was seven weeks away, and I groaned when I’d read it. Growing frantic, I tried to convince myself that no matter what, it would be more weeks of freedom. But still it was seven more weeks of worrying about Gillis and his kin coming for me and fretting over the sheriff locking me up.
Finding solace in my job, I welcomed the extra folk Miss Foster added to my route, staying away from town as much as I could, and from Gillis’s ugly kin. I continued getting the books and material into the hands of my patrons, working for my next pay stub for the court, and nibbling at Emma’s gumball to quell the nightmarish dreams.
On my Friday route, I hurried past Guyla Belle’s, and Junia was only too happy to do my bidding as she sped by the Gillis yard. Several times I looked back over my shoulder, fearful.
At Amara’s cabin, I dropped a newspaper and a tattered romance onto the porch, then rode toward Bonnie’s.
The coal miner stepped out her door, smiling, her jaw yellowed with a fading bruise from where Gillis had punched her that day. “Sweet pea, it’s good to see ya,” she said as I walked across the yard. “Come on up, I just made a fresh pitcher of tea.” She went inside to get the drinks, easing the ratty screen door shut so she wouldn’t wake up her boy.
I lugged the pannier up to the porch to let her dig through it while I sat on the top step and sipped from my glass.
“I stopped by Loretta’s grave and paid my respects. Ran into Mr. Geary. That headstone you picked out is sure pretty.”
“Sure is.” I nodded, grateful Mr. Geary had it delivered a week earlier than promised, happy that others would pay their respects now.
She took a drink, then rubbed her jaw and grimaced. “Lost a tooth when he attacked me.”
“Real sorry to hear that. Does it hurt much?”
“Nah.” She set her glass down on the floorboards. “What did ya bring me today, Book Woman?” Bonnie plopped down on Retta’s glider and lifted the bag across her lap.
“There’s some new storybooks for Joey Jr.”
She looked inside. In a few minutes, she lit a cigarette and blew out loudly. The smoke disappeared, ghost-tailing out into the spring sunshine. “The men ain’t bothering me no more.” Bonnie swatted away a curious bee. “They’s actually a little afraid of me.” She took a puff off her cigarette, coughed, and laughed hoarsely.