“That’s real good they’re leaving you alone.”
“We women don’t always have to work harder than them, jus’ smarter.” Bonnie tapped her temple, then stopped and cocked her head. “Look at ya, sweet pea, getting all grow’d up for a red-heeled Saturday nigh’ outing.” She poked a slender, black-stained finger toward my earrings.
“Don’t own any heels.” My face warmed and I touched an ear. “Pearl Grant let me borrow these till I can buy some.”
“Real sweet. Joey bought me a pretty pair on our anniversary, but I can’t wear ’em down in the mine.” Sadness crept in to her eyes for a moment and then she said, “Oh, when Boss Man learned about Perry Gillis, he assigned me an easy job. He said I’ll be riding the shuttle cart April 20. I can’t wait for this Monday to get here. Pays a nickel more too.”
“You deserve it, Bonnie.”
She wrinkled her brow, searching inside the pannier, and said quietly, “A few are saying I caused that rooster to attack Perry Gillis.”
I stole a glance at the almost-empty mason jar of sunflower seeds beside her foot.
Bonnie tapped her ashes onto the porch and rocked in the glider, staring out into the yard. She dug back through the books, taking out two. “Know what, sweet pea?”
I shook my head and swallowed a sip of the cold, sweetened tea.
“Others say it’s an accident, and he got his due.” She stood up, dangling the cigarette between her lips. Her eyes grew distant, and she said loudly what others would ponder in soft whispers, “He’s a titmouse stunted-dick, that Perry Gillis is. Oh, but that sweet boy, Tommie, sure was something else looking over me like that. Wrenna too, that darlin’ li’l hen. And I was mighty pleased an’ proud when I heard you led the state police to poor Guyla Belle’s body like that, and he was arrested right in his hospital bed.” She leaned over and lightly pinched my cheek.
Peeling back my cotton glove, I snuck a peek at my darkening hand, then quickly pulled the fabric over it. “They gave her a decent burial,” I said, a little embarrassed but thrilled and appreciative to have earned the young coal miner’s grace—more than grateful Guyla Belle had been given a proper burial and Gillis was in custody. I glanced down from the porch at Junia, the scabbard packed on her side with my rifle.
“Thank you, Honey. I think I’ll read these again,” Bonnie said, a sly grin spreading on her face as she held up Ruth Krauss’s bright-orange children’s book, The Carrot Seed and Jim Thompson’s The Killer Inside Me.
She winked at me, then brushed a fallen ash off the front of her coal-blackened overalls before heading back inside.
***
After a rainy April, May brought plenty of sunshine and warmer weather. The wild dogwoods and fencerow honeysuckle were in full bloom, fragrant across the spring-soaked mountains. Cabin windows opened, walls of winter-baked soot were scrubbed, and more clotheslines appeared, sagging under the weight of fresh-laundered curtains and spring coverlets.
Last month, I’d stopped by Emma McCain’s on my Monday drops, but Wrenna was never there. Emma said that the girl would sneak into the cellar and get food but would be gone before she could catch her. I was hoping May would be more favorable and I would see my young patron. But when I stopped by this week, the loans sat untouched on Emma’s porch.
The last few weeks I’d worked Saturdays and Sundays because of the added patrons. Today, I’d caught up and was looking forward to a free weekend as I rode toward my last drop.
Standing on the wide porch, I waited for Millie to answer the door so I could give her the books I’d selected and maybe talk to Doc about Mama. I looked over my shoulder, searching for any of Gillis’s kin, anxious to get my business done and head back to my holler. Again, I banged on the door knocker, and shortly Doc swung open the door.