?I didn?t have any choice if I wanted to work.? Lee didn?t mention that he could have asked for kitchen duty. ?I don?t like just sitting around,? he said crossly.
?You?ll be sitting around now. You?re done with the cotton mill, you?re going to sit in the sun and do nothing until you feel better.?
?You ruling out all jobs? What about the kitchen??
Floyd hesitated.?The kitchen would be all right, if you can work around the steam equipment. Steam would be good for you.? The doctor shook his head. ?You?re a stubborn SOB, Fontana. I?ll talk to Bronski about a job.?
Lee pulled on his shirt and slid down from the table.?I didn?t see Karen Turner when I came in.?
That made Floyd laugh.?You?re as bad as the young bucks. I think she?s down in the lab.?
?Guess you were right,? Lee said, ?it?s nice to see a pretty face, gives a guy a lift.?
Heading out, he was halfway along the corridor when he paused beside a closed door, listening. A series of soft thuds, then a muffled cry. He grabbed the knob and flung the door open.
Karen writhed on the floor beside a desk, fighting Coker. He crouched over her, pinning her down with his knee, blood streaking his dark hair. She hit and struck at him, her white uniform open to her waist and bloodstained, her brassiere torn away. Coker had wrapped a telephone cord around her neck and was pressing a prison-made knife to her throat. Lee lunged, brought the toe of his shoe crashing up under Cocker?s arm, lifting the knife away. Coker came up swinging at him. Lee got in a kick to Coker?s groin and dodged, shouting for help. Coker grabbed him, threw him against the desk, and bolted out the door, his eyes cold with hate and with promise.
Lee knelt over Karen, unwinding the cord from her neck. Long red lines circled her throat. Her forehead was already swelling and turning dark; she was bleeding pretty bad, red stains soaking her uniform. Lee propped her up against the side of the desk and ran for the hall, shouting again, but already Dr. Floyd was there, an orderly behind him. They dropped to their knees beside Karen.
?Who was it?? Floyd said, glancing up at Lee. ?Did you see him??
?Coker,? Lee croaked, coughing hard, then he ran, chasing Coker.
By the time he reached the double doors of the dispensary he was gasping for air. He saw Coker between the buildings, making for the mess hall. Lee slowed, moved across the yard taking deep, slow breaths. Why chase him? There was no place Coker could hide for long. When Coker turned and saw him he quickened his pace and headed for the cellblock. Moving fast across the compound, his crew cut dark against the pale buildings, he swung in through the heavy door. Lee ran, pushing into the cellblock behind him.
From the entry he had a full view of the zigzag metal stair leading up. Hamilton, at his desk, saw Lee looking and followed his gaze. Coker was already scrambling onto the third tier. Ahead of Coker on the catwalk, Bronski was coming along, his eyes down on the book open in his hands, reading as he walked slowly toward the stairs. Lee thought Coker meant to play it innocent, to go on casually by Bronski and into his cell, but when Bronski glanced up at him, then looked over the rail toward Lee, Coker froze.
He stared down at Lee and Hamilton watching him, knew he couldn?t go down again, that he was cornered. Swinging around he charged Bronski, his knife flashing. Bronski crouched, dropped his book, grabbed Coker?s arm, diverting the knife inches from his own face. Bronski clutched Coker?s belt and in one move lifted and rolled Coker up over the rail. Coker hung for an instant over open space, then fell, arms flailing, his body twisting down the three tiers. He hit the concrete headfirst with a sound that sickened Lee.
Behind Lee the big doors burst open and armed guards came running. Shaken, Lee headed for the stairs and his cell. They?d be locked down now, until the guards got it sorted out.
He sat on his bunk hoping Karen Turner would be all right, seeing her blood-smeared uniform, the red marks circling her throat. He?d been right in the first place, the authorities were damn fools bringing a woman in here. He heard the guards? shouted orders, heard the prisoners moving in for the lockdown. He didn?t see Karen Turner again.
The prison staff got the action sifted out in a hurry when Karen told them what had happened. Lee heard that she?d left the prison, that she was working in a civilian hospital. A week later, Dr. Floyd was gone, too. Whether he was fired or took an ?early retirement,? as they called it, Lee never knew. And even though he was glad Karen was out of there, he missed that pretty smile. Two days later he wasworking again, this time in the warm, steamy kitchen.
19
ANNE SAT AT the kitchen table sipping coffee.?Did you and Sammie sleep at all?? Becky and Sammie had just come upstairs, Sammie moving to the stove to watch Mariol flip pancakes. Becky poured a cup of coffee and sat down.
?Surprisingly, we did sleep.? She didn?t say they?d slept with a warm cat between them, Sammie?s arms circling that unseen presence who had comforted Becky, too.
?Last night .†.†.? Anne said, ?I wish you?d killed him.? That shocked Becky, coming from her proper aunt.
?I?ve prayed every night,? Anne told her, ?that Brad Falon was dead.? She seemed amused at Becky?s expression. ?He tried to kill you, he?s made nothing but trouble, he?s doing his best to ruin your lives. What good is he, in the world?? This Aunt Anne whom she was seeing now wasfar different, indeed, from the way Becky had always thought of her.
Beside the stove, Sammie turned.?I dreamed he broke in, I dreamed of a hand reaching through.?
Anne nodded.?That dream may have saved your lives.? And, as if half to herself, ?The same .†.†.affliction .†.†. our mother called it, that our aunt Mae endured. She had the dreams, too,? Anne said softly. ?Mother did tell me that, because of my own dreams, but she told me as if they were shameful.Otherwise she seldom talked about family, I know only a smattering of our history. I know that Mae was the youngest of our great-aunt Nell?s five children.
?Nell and her three girls moved to North Carolina after the children?s father died. He left them with very little, they sold their Arizona land for practically nothing, they had nowhere else to go but to her sister there. Mae?s two older brothers had already left home. Later Mae?s sister Nora married and settled in Georgia, our mother Nora.?
Becky laid her hand over Anne?s. ?Do you know where Mae is now??
Anne shook her head.?I don?t. It?s strange, embarrassing sometimes, shameful knowing so little about our family. Most Southern families are steeped in their history, from before the Civil War. But that?s the way we grew up. No discussion, so Caroline or I weren?t really interested. I didn?t realize then the emptiness that left in me, having no real ties to our past.?
Anne sipped her coffee, looked up at Becky.?I had a sense, too, that there might be more in our past even than the dreams, other ?shameful? things that Mama didn?t want to talk about.?
Becky, too, sometimes felt adrift not knowing their family history. Caroline had kept no letters, no pictures, nothing to define the past. She watched Mariol pour a glass of milk for Sammie and set her breakfast on the table. When Sammie slid into her chair, reaching for the syrup, Mariol kissed the top of her head, then turned away to test the skillet and pour more batter. Interesting, Becky thought, how comfortable Mariol seemed with the mention of prophetic dreams. As if she and Anne might have talked openly about Anne?s dreams. Maybe, in Mariol?s family, such talents were not considered strange. Whatever the case, Mariol?s acceptance comforted Becky, made her feel easier.
THREE DAYS AFTER Fred Coker died on the cellblock floor, Coker?s friend Delone cornered Lee between the buildings, flashing a thin, a prison-made knife. Lee had just left the kitchen after his shift and was heading for the automotive shop, when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him. He spun around, saw Delone coming on him fast, a blade shining in his palm.