Not only did she mourn for George, she longed for Chicago and the friends she’d made while they were there. They’d huddle for hours debating politics, arguing about communism, socialism, and even democracy. Once they tired of politics, the conversations would turn to poetry and literature. Those moments of elevated discourse were now a faint memory as her life had come crashing down around her and she’d been forced to return to the rural South where the most riveting bit of news seemed to be a shared recipe for peach cobbler or a particularly intricate quilt pattern. With war rampant in Europe, the men in the community seemed to vibrate with the expectation of it. The herald of its coming moved through the air like static electricity, but Southern women, if they had such concerns, seemed to keep silent on the subject.
Her father had arranged an appointment as a teacher in a rural, one-room schoolhouse. She would assume her post in early September. Until then, the summer stretched in front of Lovey like an endless loop that promised only heat, humidity, and her father’s long-winded Sunday sermons, followed by covered dish suppers on the church lawn.
Lovey reached the shoulder of the rural throughway and turned left. The gravel crunching underfoot on the dusty road reverberated in her ears like a percussion section for the chorus of night creatures. Every now and then she kicked a stone off the roadway into the tall grass just to see the grasshoppers take flight.
She’d escaped after college, through marriage, to the city, but fate had struck down her dreams and delivered her back home. Only this wasn’t a home she’d ever known before. Her father had been called to pastor this rural congregation only six months prior to her return home. She’d forgotten what it was like to live under the glass bubble as a minister’s daughter. Lovey was practiced at saying the right thing, doing the right thing, and knowing when to be seen and not heard, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Out of respect for her father she’d agreed to play the role of dutiful daughter to the best of her abilities. What choice did she have as long as she was under his roof?
Lovey stopped for a moment to look up at the specks of light piercing the blackness like pinholes from some brighter place just beyond. A shooting star caught her eye as it burned away in the atmosphere. Did she dare make a wish? Wishing would require more faith than she felt she could muster at the moment, but maybe she could conjure a glimmer of hope. Possibilities seemed limited, but she could at least hope.
She hugged herself tightly and continued her stroll.
❖
The wind from the open window whipped through Royal’s hair. Driving fast with the windows down was one of her favorite summer pastimes. The radio piped “Moonlight Serenade” through the dark interior of the Ford sedan as she pulled the stick down into third. Adrenaline surged through her body as the flathead V-8 hit its stride along the straightaway of the freshly graded county road. The occasional pop of a rock thrown by the tires banged against the steel undercarriage disrespectfully intruding on Glenn Miller’s smooth melody.
At this late hour, Royal Duval was usually trippin’ a load of moonshine, but not tonight. She’d promised her cousin Ned she’d run the car on a different course. Just to test a new shortcut and the car, before making the run with a full load. Ned wanted a ride-along, but Royal preferred to test drive alone. So far, she liked the modifications he’d made on her stock ’39 Ford. She’d use the word screamer if she didn’t think it’d go straight to his head. The engine had been bored, fitted with three carburetors, and extra helper springs in the suspension for runs when she’d be carrying heavy liquid cargo to Hall County or farther south to Atlanta.
It was a little past eleven o’clock, and Royal hadn’t seen another car on the road since she left Highway Nine heading back through Dawsonville toward the hills. The night was clear but very dark. The circles of light provided her only visibility preceding the Ford’s breakneck speed down the winding dirt road. Royal downshifted and braked as she rounded a bend, throwing rocks as the two-door sedan crossed the center point in the road. Just as the headlights crested the blind curve, an apparition appeared at the shoulder.
Damn! She jerked the wheel in an attempt to miss the ghostly figure flash lit by the headlights.
As the heavy Ford slid through the turn, there was just enough of a rut at the road’s edge to snag the front wheel, hindering Royal’s ability to right the car’s trajectory. Time seemed suspended as the auto skidded, bounced over the shoulder, lost its center of gravity, and rolled down the slight grade on the outside of the curve.
The throaty combustion of eight pounding cylinders roared as the sedan’s tires left the ground in an airborne spiral. Inside the car, Royal gripped the wheel with one hand and braced her other hand against the high, curved roof, for a moment suspended, weightless.
Chapter Two
Lovey saw the glow of headlights just seconds before the sedan bore down on her. She heard a roar followed by a blinding light. She stood frozen for an instant, rooted like a light-struck deer, unable to move as the speeding sedan swerved to miss her. She lunged off the road toward the steep embankment on the inside of the curve
