All the while, Mama was locked up in her cell. For two months while the judge heard this appeal thing Mr. Howard brought to him, Mama stayed in that cell, walking back and forth, twisting her hands up in knots, not eating, not sleeping. I might could be wrong, but knowin' Mama, she was probably worried they'd change their minds about 'lectricuting her and the thought of that happening, them changing their minds, was making her sick. I guess she wanted to die. She surely didn't do anything to help herself not to. She was tore up with guilt and anger and regret. All them sorrowful things had her plumb eat up and dying 'fore she's even dying. It was a worse death than that old 'lectric chair even, 'cause it was a slow, suffocating death, one second at a time, it was.
"Mama?" I called to her. "Kin ya' hear me, kin ya'? Let it go, Mama! It'll just eat ya' alive right up to the end and there jist ain't no sense in goin' 'til you're goin'." I don't think she got my message, but she did get word her appeal got turned down and they set her death date three months away. She'd be gone 'fore Christmas.
Lexie come to see Mama for a goodbye visit. She packed some snacks for them to eat and the deputy lady was real nice, let her go right to Mama's cell. It was a few days before they were fixin' to take her on down to Jackson to wait on the execution date. Lexie and Mama spent the better part of the afternoon together. It was like a miracle. My mama was back to talking! She sounded like her old self again.
"Oh, my," Mama said and patted Lexie's tummy. "When's this one due?"
"Doc figures about four more months," Lexie said.
"Well, I guess I won't get to see this one then…"
"Sure you will," Lexie said. "You'll have a bird's-eye view." Lexie hugged Mama good.
"You take care a' all those young'uns, ya' hear? You tell 'em their aunt Nadine's keepin' an eye on 'em for all eternity."
"I will," Lexie said and give her another hug. "I will, oh, I will," she said and didn't stop hugging Mama 'til the tears welling up in her eyes slipped back in place.
It was a real nice visit, it was. They talked about when they was little girls and how they met. They told old stories they thought they'd forgotten about. They was saying, "Remember this?" and "Remember that?" and had themselves a fine old time. Then they made a promise they'd see one 'nother again someday yonder. The warden lady come after that to tell Lexie it was time for her to go. After Lexie left, Mama seemed right peaceful. Guess everything was turning out the way she wanted. Before long, they brought in her dinner. Mama waited 'til they left 'fore she set down to eat it. Then she got on that bed was hooked onto the wall and for the first time in all them months since they put her there, she rested herself; slept like a baby, she sure enough did. It made my heart dance like it never done before, to see my mama rest herself like that. It felt so good I didn't much care if it never danced again.
Chapter Twenty-five
They found Mama in her cell the next morning. She was curled up under her covers, holding her tummy like it hurt something awful. She didn't have an ounce of breath left in her. Rat poison. It was in her mashed potatoes. Most of them was still on her plate, right next to the collard greens.
So's the State of Georgia never got to put my mama in their 'lectric chair, after all. I sure was happy about that. Rat poison didn't seem like a real nice way to go, neither, but at least she got to keep her hair. MeeMaw always said, "Lori Jean, be grateful for every little thing. They adds up." So I tried to think about that, her keeping her hair instead of what that poison probably done to her belly.
When Maybelle got word Mama was dead, she did something right special. She bought a grave spot right next to where Ray and Mama laid MeeMaw to rest. And then Maybelle did something even more special. She told the church people she wanted to buy the spot next to Mama, too, on account of me.
"A child needs to lie next to their mama," she said matter-offactly. The church folks said that might could be, but there weren't no spot
next
to the spot she bought for Mama available. Mr. Joshua Samuel Goose was there, waiting on Mrs. Goose.
"Well, can't you move him over one spot?" Maybelle asked. "It's real important," she told them. Well, they said, they weren't doubting that none, but if they moved him over one spot, where would Clara go? Clara, that was Mrs. Goose. She was pretty old and weren't too well herself.
"She might be needing that spot real soon," they said.
"Well, she ain't never got on with that ornery old man while he was alive," Maybelle said. "What makes you think she wants to lie next to him for all eternity?" Church folks wouldn't budge. Said it weren't their place to ask and it weren't her business to know. So guess what Maybelle done? She bought three grave spots at the highest point in the cemetery, the ones them same church folks said was closest to heaven, so they cost more. Then, Maybelle got herself this legal paper gived her permission to move MeeMaw and me on up there to wait on Mama. So, they dugged us up! Ain't that something? Took our casket beds and carried us on up the hill. They was bringing Mama up in the hearse Maybelle hired, once the undertaker fella finished doing her hair. Lexie Ann sent Wanda on over to do it first, but Wanda cried so much, the funeral mens made her leave. Said they'd see to it theirselves. Lexie Ann had a fit.
"Nadine never wore her hair that way in her life!" she said.
"Now Lexie, honey, settle down," Melvin said. "Nadine don't care how it looks, by now. She's off yonder." Which probably weren't the truth. Mama always cared how her hair looked, but Lexie was close to having the new baby, and Melvin most likely wanted to calm her down. Probably said the first thing popped in his mouth. Mama's hair weren't too bad; I seen it look worse when Ray pulled a bunch of it out once. But Aunt Lexie carried on something awful. I think she was just griefed over everything that had happened and Mama's hair just gived her a way to scream it out, 'cause Mama's hair looked sorta okay, excepting where they bunched it back behind her ears real good. That made 'em stick out like that little Dopey fella in the
Snow White
book Alice liked so much, and Mama's ears
never
sticked out before. But the rest looked okay.
While Lexie was having herself a hissy fit over Mama's hair, calling them fellas down at the funeral home place, asking where in thunder they went to hairdresser school, Maybelle was tending to another surprise. She bought a grave marker for Mama and me, fit right over the top of the both of us! She had our names carved on it in pretty letters. Mama's side said Nadine Howard Dodson and give her birthday and her death day. Maybelle told them to be sure and leave off Pruitt, or she weren't paying for it. Guess she still couldn't find it in her heart to forgive Ray. My side of the marker said Here lies Lori Jean Dodson. There was flowers carved on top, and right below my name, Maybelle had them put the day I was born and next to that, the day I died. It was the same day, just different years. But the best part was below them dates! It said: Heaven got itself another angel today. Wasn't that nice? Here Maybelle was mighty sick and there she was, seeing about us. There weren't no reason for her to get MeeMaw a new marker. She used the one Ray bought for MeeMaw when she died. These mens just lugged it up to its new resting spot. It weren't as fancy as the one Maybelle got for me and Mama. Still, it looked right nice next to ours. Maybelle paid for everything. And she paid for the biggest bouquet of flowers I ever seen. Had some more spread all around the marker, too. In truth, it was 'bout the prettiest grave spot in the whole place. Probably in the whole world. Near perfect, it was, 'cept I wished she would of paid to have Carolee dug up and moved over next to my spot. But I reckon Carolee's folks might not of let her, even if Maybelle'd thought of it. Mr. Thompson never got over Carolee dying like she did. He near drunk himself to death; cursed everything and everyone around him. Connie Dee got herself a baby 'fore she got herself a husband, and she run off. Mrs. Thompson, she stays pretty much by herself; keeps out of Mr. Thompson's way. Mostly, she tends to Carolee's grave spot and it's right pretty, so I guess it's best Carolee stay there, where her mama takes herself a lot of comfort every morning when the sun comes up.
Poor Maybelle, she keeps getting sicker. I best pray for her real good. Seems only right, after all them nice things she done. Yep, I best pray it ain't her time yet, and that she gets herself well, 'cause she ain't really a bad person trying to get good; she's just a sick person trying to be well. It's true, she weren't always nice to people, but everybody's got some bad parts in 'em, mixed up with the good, don't they? Even Carolee, she was about the bestest person I knowed in the whole world, and she had herself a bad part. She liked to make faces at Darla Faye when she weren't looking and she stuck gum in Darla's hair once, on purpose even. Made her cry and Carolee laughed. That weren't nice. See what I mean?
So I hope Maybelle gets well. It'd make her real happy. Truth be known, it'd make me happy, too. I don't much wanna run into her up here, 'least not right off, anyway. I don't got a heavy heart against her or nothing. Look at all she done for us. I'd just like to have a little time to myself 'fore I run into her again, is all. And—if Mama gets to come—I reckon she won't want to see Maybelle first thing, neither.
Speaking on Mama, they never did find out who put that rat poison in her 'taters. They questioned a whole lotta people, too. I'd like to think it was someone who loved her, but it coulda been someone that didn't. I could find out for myself if I stayed a bit longer, but it's my time to move on.
Just think—I'm gonna see MeeMaw. Won't that be something? And Carolee; she'll be right surprised to see me comin' up yonder. I hardly growed any! And little Iris Anne—I ain't never even seen her yet. Won't that be cute? A little baby girl angel. I probably might even get to see Jesus. Never know. I'd sure like to. I want to ask him if he's doing okay, on account of what them peoples did to him with those nails and stuff. And for sure I want to ask him if it'd be okay if Mama come here, even though she killed Ray dead. I want him to know her heart was in the right place that day she done it, but the screws in her head come loose and she couldn't help herself none. MeeMaw said he's a fella got a really big heart hisself, so he'll probably understand. And don't forget forgiveness; that's about his favorite thing, forgiveness.
Guess what? A real bright pretty light's coming my way. Reckon I best be going. One time I heard some folks say,
Heaven can wait
, but I don't see it that way. But then, I'm seeing a whole lotta things different now, with better eyes than the ones I had before.
MeeMaw was right fond of saying, "Lori Jean, git a move on, honey. You'll be late." It's so strange. I can hear her speaking them same words to me this very moment. I can! Fancy that.
Epilogue
"Isn't she pretty, Melvin?"
"That she is, Lexie. Pretty as her namesake."
"Baby girl, you got your name from an angel."
"Mama?"
"What, sugar?"
"Is Lori Jean really a angel?"
"Alice, honey, she sure enough is."
"Is that why you named the baby for her?"
"I named the baby for her, so we'll always have a part a' her with us."
"What part's that, Ma?"
"The best part, Irl. The part that rests in our heart."
"I don't understan', Mama."
"See, sugar, every time we call the new baby's name, our heart will skip a beat…and in that tiny little moment it skips, we'll have our Lori Jean with us once again. Now, isn't that nice?"
"Uh-huh."
"Melvin, honey?"
"What, sugarplum?"
"Ya' think Lori Jean knows we got a new baby named for her?"
"No way a knowing for a fact, Lexie, but I'd like to think she does. That'd be right nice, wouldn't it, darlin'?"
"Oh, Melvin…"
"Right nice…sugarplum…right nice indeed…"
Thw Inspiration for
Roseflower Creek
I didn't start writing until the last of our children left home and my husband assured me they weren't coming back unless they needed money. I decided to take up writing to fill the hours and enrolled in a writer's course at the Continuing Education Center at the University of Georgia in Athens.
After attending my first class, I was concerned about what it was I would actually write about. One morning the following week, I picked up a copy of our local newspaper and noticed a United Press article on the front page that said: "Jury Selection Begins in Death Penalty Case."
The article went on to explain that a ten-year-old boy had died at the hands of his mother and her boyfriend after a beating for allegedly stealing five dollars in the lunch room. I remember thinking how awful that would be—physically, emotionally, and spiritually—to die that way and said, "You poor little boy. It must have hurt so bad." A little voice in my head said, "Yeah, it did hurt, and the morning I died it rained."
I immediately ran upstairs and opened a document and wrote the opening line and the first fifty pages of
Roseflower Creek
, not knowing what the title of the novel would be or where the actual story would go.
I did determine that the protagonist would be a ten-year-old girl, and I moved the story back to the 1950s, which is when I grew up. I took great liberty with the story I read of in the newspaper, and other than the inspiration,
Roseflower Creek
is totally fictitious. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.