The Librarian's Journey, page 27
Clotheslines were reposted and restrung, screens were reattached to windows and doors if they could be. Joseph and Mary’s door had blown off the hinges, so Lamar put it back on. Lily Bee searched gardens and yards for any vegetables that might have been knocked off their stalks. They both helped catch chickens that had blown into the field at Gladys’s house, then put them back into the henhouse they helped her husband repair.
As dusk approached, Lamar looked at Lily Bee. “Guess we better call it a day.”
She sighed. “You’re right. We can’t work in the dark.”
They said goodbye and climbed back into the car.
As Lamar headed back to Cypress, he said, “Shall I pick you up tomorrow?”
She whipped her head toward him. “Are you sure you want to do this again?”
“Absolutely. We still have a lot left to do. There are fences to fix, plus we need to bring some more things to repair Joseph and Mary’s house.” He cut his gaze to her. “Unless you’re too tired.”
“Tired?” She blew out a breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired. I can’t wait to take a good, long bath and get some clean clothes on!”
“So you don’t want to go with me tomorrow?”
“I didn’t say that. After a good night’s rest, I’ll be good as new.” She sure hoped so.
“Besides, you didn’t get to see Evie today, and she’s going to be mighty upset with me for not bringing you by the house.”
“I’d like to see her too.”
She thought of all they’d done that day, regretting they hadn’t been able to do more.
“Lamar, I’m worried about the bayou people.”
“The bayou people?”
“Yes, their homes were built on stilts and were so close to the water. I fear they might not have survived the hurricane.”
“Can we go check on them?”
“I don’t know how. I rode Jack on the dummy line through the swamp, then a man took me across in a little boat to an island.”
His mouth gaped. “You did that to take books to people?”
“Yes, it’s part of my route. They deserve to get books too.”
“No doubt, but… You’re a brave woman, Lily Bee Davis.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not. I was just doing my job. But as I was saying, I don’t know how you could get there in a car.”
“And the swamp is probably flooded too. The dummy line might be under water.”
The thought sent a shiver through her. “Oh no. How can we reach them?” Would those people be cut off from help?
“Lily, what body of water are they on?”
“Palmetto Bayou.”
“Which connects to the river, right?”
“Yes, I think so. They said the men had gone downriver to fish.”
“Then we need to find a boat that’s big enough to go there and carry supplies. Let me make a few calls and check around. I’m sure we can find someone to help.”
“I pray that you will.”
He reached for her hand. “Let’s do that right now.” He cleared his throat. “God, we need You to help us find a way to reach the people on the bayou and help them. Please direct us to the right person. Amen.”
“Amen.” Lily Bee loved the way Lamar spoke to God—simple, direct, honest. Hearing him pray captured her heart, and she was certain God heard him too.
That evening Lamar walked Lily Bee to the front porch of her grandfather’s house. Her hair was a mess, her dress had a tear, and she was covered in dirt and dust, even though she’d tried to wash it off at the pump. She’d apologized for her appearance, but as far as he was concerned, she was beautiful inside and out. A more caring, compassionate person he’d never met.
“Would you like to come in for some tea?”
He looked down at his clothes and shook his head. “I’m too dirty to come inside.”
“I’m not much cleaner myself. Wait here and I’ll get you some. I know you must be thirsty, and you need something before you drive home.”
He nodded as she entered the house. He thought of how relief had washed over him when he first saw her that morning, how his heart had lifted at the sight of her lovely, sweet face. He had never anticipated how the day would turn out when he left home earlier. All he knew was that he had to find her, had to know she was safe, and that he was almost overwhelmed by the fear she might not be.
She returned with iced tea and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He took a long drink. “That’s just what I needed.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you again for all your help today.” Her gaze penetrated him with warmth that reached to the depth of his being, touching his heart.
“Lily Bee, I need to thank you.”
“For what?”
“You’re the person who came to my house and unlocked the door to the prison I was in. You brought me back into the world and showed me what serving others instead of myself means. The compassion you show for others convicted me of my selfish existence.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t do all that. If you felt any conviction, it came from God, not from me.”
“Perhaps. But I believe God sent you to me. And I’m glad He did.”
He leaned forward, lifted a strand of her hair away from her face, and kissed her gently on the forehead. Her eyes widened as she watched his gaze travel to her lips. Then he let his lips softly touch hers. He drew back, waiting for her response, hoping he hadn’t overstepped his bounds.
“I’m glad He did too.” And reaching up, she put her hands on his neck and pulled his face to hers, returning his kiss with the tenderness he’d come to expect from Lily Bee Davis.
Epilogue Two weeks later
Lamar pulled his car up in front of the library. “Here we are! Time to start unloading.”
Maude and Evie climbed out of the car and walked around to the back of the car as Lamar unlocked the trunk.
Lily Bee walked out of the library smiling and joined them to look into the trunk. Lamar leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Think you can use these?” He waved his hand over the contents of the trunk.
She clasped her hands. “We certainly can! Thank you!”
They each grabbed an armful of books and headed toward the library, where Miss Ida stood, mouth open as she held the door for them to enter.
“My goodness! What have you got there?”
“Daddy’s books!” Evie said, carrying a short stack of volumes. “It was my idea, wasn’t it, Daddy?” She beamed proudly.
“Yes, Evie, it sure was.” He leaned toward Lily Bee and lowered his voice. “Besides, I needed to make an impression on a certain book lady.”
Lily Bee blushed. “You’ve made an impression all right, with or without the books.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” he said.
They made countless trips to the car until the trunk was empty.
“People are so excited about the concert today,” Miss Ida said. “I can hardly wait myself.”
“I’ll do my best. Unfortunately, I couldn’t bring my piano, but I’ve tuned the church piano as well as I can,” Lamar said.
“People here don’t know the difference between a grand piano and a church upright,” Miss Ida said. “But we’ll appreciate the music just as much.”
“Grandpa’s going out to the country to pick up some of the people on my route who want to come.” Lily Bee’s heart swelled as she remembered Gladys’s reaction when she was invited to the concert, eager to show off the girls in their new dresses.
“Homer’s gonna pick up Mr. Joseph and Mrs. Mary too,” Evie said.
The door swung open, and Bernice blew in holding up a copy of the Times Picayune.
“Look y’all! Lily Bee’s in the newspaper!”
“She is?” Evie said. “Can I see?”
Bernice lay the paper on a table, and they all gathered around to look. On the front page was a picture of Lily Bee perched on Jack, holding a book.
“Look at the write-up!” Bernice said. “They called Lily Bee ‘the book lady of the bayou’!”
Lily Bee smiled. “I like that name.”
Lamar put his hand on the small of her back and leaned over to whisper into her ear. “And I like the book lady of the bayou.”
Award-winning author MARILYN TURK writes historical fiction flavored with suspense and romance. Marilyn also writes devotions for Daily Guideposts. She and her husband are lighthouse enthusiasts, have visited over one hundred lighthouses, and also served as volunteer lighthouse caretakers at Little River Light off the coast of Maine.
When not writing or visiting lighthouses, Marilyn enjoys boating, fishing, gardening, tennis, playing with grandkids, and her golden retriever, Dolly.
She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers; Faith, Hope and Love; Advanced Writers and Speakers Association; and Word Weavers International.
Connect with her at http://pathwayheart.com, https://twitter.com/MarilynTurk, https://www.facebook.com/MarilynTurkAuthor/, https://www.pinterest.com/bluewaterbayou/, Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Marilyn-Turk/e/B017Y76L9A, Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/marilyn-turk. Email her at marilynturkwriter@yahoo.com.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When one thinks of the packhorse librarians, visions of women riding in remote mountain areas come to mind. But not all these traveling librarians rode in the mountains.
My story, Book Lady of the Bayou, takes place in coastal Mississippi, a relatively flat area noted for cotton fields in the dry areas and swampy bayou areas near the waterways.
One of the reasons I chose to write about a traveling librarian in Mississippi is because it was the home state of Ellen Woodward, a key member in FDR’s administration during the Depression, who oversaw the program. Appointed director of the Women’s Division of the Federal Emergency Relief Association in 1933, she became the second highest-ranking woman in the administration.
In 1935, she became head of the Women’s and Professional Projects Division of the Works Progress Administration (WPA), helping to employ 450,000 women paid equal to their male counterparts. As a widow and single mother, Woodward knew how important it was for women to have employment in a culture that believed women should stay at home.
Working closely with Eleanor Roosevelt, Woodward and the First Lady combined efforts to help solve women’s issues. When Woodward became head of Federal Project Number One of the WPA, she oversaw the employment of artists, musicians, actors and writers, leading to the employment of over 750,000 Americans.
WPA executives pointed to Mississippi as their model library state with its travelling libraries operating in every one of Mississippi’s 82 counties. Horses, mules, buggies, carts, spring wagons, saddle bags, school buses, skiffs, automobiles, and trailers were used to carry Mississippi’s travelling library books. The service extended to book stations, reading rooms, community centers and individual homes. Skiffs were used to reach the “shanty folk” of the delta bayous on the Gulf Coast. There was even a “book boat” on the Yazoo River to reach people whose homes were not easily reached by road.
Whatever the state where they worked, these traveling librarians provided an honorable service to people who might not otherwise see a book—educating, enlightening, and connecting them to the world outside their isolated living conditions.
The Librarian and the Lawman
BY KATHLEEN Y’BARBO
Then he remembered the days of old, Moses, and his people, saying, Where is he that brought them up out of the sea with the shepherd of his flock? where is he that put his holy Spirit within him? That led them by the right hand of Moses with his glorious arm, dividing the water before them, to make himself an everlasting name? That led them through the deep, as an horse in the wilderness, that they should not stumble?
—ISAIAH 63:11–13
For Darlene Franklin
Much loved friend and writer extraordinaire.
We lost Darlene in 2021, but our loss is heaven’s gain.
Her daughter Jolene’s words, taken from an article
Darlene wrote on grief in 2018, say it best:
But hope is always there. I am on a journey to hope
where the sun shines and gladness stays.
Amen.
Find out more about Darlene Franklin, her life, and her books at www.darlenefranklin.com.
Chapter One
Kenova, West Virginia July 4, 1925
Kenova, West Virginia, got its name from the fact the city sat at the confluence of the Big Sandy and Ohio Rivers and at the juncture of three states: Kentucky, Ohio, and Virginia. Back when Charlotte Rose Trent was young enough to shinny up a tall tree without causing her mama or daddy to have a fit, she wondered each day what it would be like to live on the other side of one of those rivers again. To live anywhere but here in Kenova at her family’s boardinghouse where she’d earned the title “Most likely to burn a pie or pan of biscuits while attentions elsewhere.”
Tonight, however, she’d managed to slip free of her responsibilities and was enjoying a perfectly lovely time at the Kenova Fourth of July celebration. It was a rare night out without the supervision of her parents, and Lottie was enjoying it—mostly.
Fireworks popped and crackled overhead, sending streams of light across the heavens. Lottie held her fingers in her ears and tried not to think about how the display that everyone else seemed to be enjoying sounded far too much like gunfire.
She knew all too well what gunfire sounded like. But she smiled and she didn’t let on to her best friend, Elnora Jensen, that she’d rather be home reading a book instead of here. As the daughter of the town librarian, however, this information would not have surprised Elnora a bit.
Lottie glanced over her shoulder, a habit she’d had ever since that night when she was twelve and everything changed. Nothing but a sea of people, all with faces she knew.
“Relax and enjoy the fireworks,” Elnora said. “Look how pretty they are.”
But she didn’t want to relax. What if something happened?
“Lottie Trent is heaven sent,” a familiar voice said behind her. “Nobody missed her when she up and went.”
She turned around to see Clay Turnbow standing with three of his friends. Taller than her by nearly a head, he looked down at her with a broad grin. The others snickered and elbowed him, but Clay ignored them.
Elnora was sweet on Clay’s friend Elmer but was too shy to admit it. She stood by Lottie and stared at the intruders with a look she usually reserved for her little brother. All the while, a telltale flush was climbing her friend’s cheeks.
“Just admit it, you’re an angel, and that’s how you got here.” Clay made a pretense of trying to look around to her back to see if she had wings. “Then maybe I will admit that probably wasn’t true about nobody missing you.”
“Not funny,” Lottie said, turning around to give him the view he wanted.
The rhyme had started with schoolyard teasing back when she wouldn’t—and couldn’t—admit where she’d moved from. She’d seen and heard enough to know that saying too much meant that bad things would happen.
That’s what Daddy told her, and so she kept silent on the question of where she was from unless she had to admit it. Then she recited word for word what she’d been told by the government man in Lexington.
“Born in Kentucky [which was true] and raised here and there owing to your papa moving from place to place in his work. He bought the boardinghouse from a fellow he met in his travels and came here to settle in and make a permanent home for his family. Don’t answer if they ask about his work or what city in Kentucky you were born. Don’t add anything else to the story because you’ll never remember the details.”
So when she refused to speak on her behalf, the boys decided to make a joke of Lottie’s name—a name she was still getting used to—and the stupid rhyme was born. Three years later, the boys were still playing the stupid schoolyard game.
Or at least Clay was. At seventeen, all the fellows except Clay Turnbow were working in the mines and considered grown men.
She’d heard Clay’s mama was the reason he hadn’t taken on a shovel and hard hat yet. She knew he’d taken grief for that too.
“Leave her alone,” Elnora said with surprising force.
“Let’s go,” she heard one of them say as a loud boom reverberated across the sky, causing her to jump and take a step backward.
Unfortunately, she slammed against something that felt like a brick wall. That brick wall caught her and spun her around.
“Clay,” she said. “Let me loose.”
But there was no teasing expression on his face. No lopsided grin. No gawking, laughing friends. Just the fellow who’d been her nemesis for going on three years.
He stared down at her with what looked like concern.
“Are you okay, Lottie?” he said tenderly. “You look like something scared you. Can I help?”
“I’m fine.” She shrugged off his hands. “Go on with your friends. You’re the last person I would need help from.”
As soon as the words were out, Lottie wished she could reel them back in. Just because Clay made it his job to tease her did not give her the right to be mean back.
The Bible said to turn the other cheek. To pray for those who torment you.
She’d done neither.
But before she could win the wrestling match with her pride and apologize to Clay, he was gone. Lottie looked around but did not see anyone who resembled the lanky fellow.
