Lily's Song by Susan Gabriel

Author:Susan Gabriel [Gabriel, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: southern historical fiction
Publisher: Speedy Publishing LLC
Published: 2016-04-02T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lily

Mama falls asleep fast, her breathing deepening into her usual light snore. After what happened at the mill today, we didn’t even have a chance to talk about my visit to see Melody and what I found out there. In some ways it feels like an entire week has been crammed into this one day. All that’s happened weighs heavy on me like Great Aunt Sadie’s quilt that Mama put on the bed tonight. No matter how much I wish for it, sleep refuses to come.

I try to imagine loving someone and having to keep it a secret. I think of Crow. Not everyone in Katy’s Ridge is accepting of the Sectors. If I married Crow, people might look at me the same way. Not to mention any children we have.

It dawns on me how difficult the world can be if you’re the least bit different. Who is it, exactly, that decided that white people rule the world, and everybody else is out of luck? Or maybe it’s that men rule the world and women don’t get to rule anything, except maybe the kitchen and the babies.

My frustration pushes me out of bed.

Mama startles awake. “You okay, sweetheart?” she asks sleepily.

“Can’t sleep. Going into the living room to read,” I whisper.

“Make yourself warm milk,” she whispers back, and then mumbles like she’s talking to someone in her dreams.

The bedroom dark, I’ve long since memorized every inch of it. I know the floorboards that creak and the way to turn the closet doorknob so that it doesn’t stick. I slide on a pair of corduroy pants Aunt Amy made for me to go with a wool sweater that was a gift from Great Aunt Sadie. I grab my shoes and socks to put on in the kitchen. Once I make it to the hallway, I find my way through the house with the help of the light in the bathroom that Granny leaves on with the door cracked. I am good at being quiet. As the resident night owl, it’s required.

In the kitchen, I open the refrigerator and drink milk right out of the bottle. I take the last slice of apple pie left over from the anniversary. The clock on the wall reaches its hands toward midnight. After putting on my socks and shoes, I slip on Granddaddy’s old coat that Granny puts on to go feed the chickens. Then I step out onto the back porch.

The chilly night air prickles my face, but otherwise I feel warm in the coat that used to swamp me with its size. To the right of the back door is the small bench where Granny keeps a big flashlight. I test it to make sure the batteries are good. A warm glow lights the way ahead. For a moment, I shine the artificial light under the porch and see Pumpkin and his kin curled next to each other, unmoving, only mildly curious about why I’m not curled up in my own bed.

The moon is of no help tonight as I walk around the side of the house where the two bedroom windows are.

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