Tilly reached for the shot glass, gripped it with her thumb and index finger and set it on the coffee table in front of her, while Martin remained standing. “I went to the doctor last week.”
“Yeah,” he said, half listening.
“I haven’t been feeling my best.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it. Seems you always have a headache.”
“Do you want to know why I’m not feeling well?”
“Of course. I don’t know why you feel puny all the time. I figure you’re doing it for attention.”
“I’m going to have a baby.”
“You’re what?” Martin glowered and leaned toward her.
“I’m pregnant. Knocked up. In the family way. The rabbit died. Get it, Martin?”
“Damn you, Tilly. Why in the hell would you go and get pregnant? You know I’m not ready for kids.”
“You’re blaming me when you’re the one bothering me all the time?”
“It’s your fault. We aren’t ready for kids. We can barely figure out how to make this work with just the two of us and your parents hanging around all the time. Truth told, I dislike it here and having a baby won’t make it better.”
“Is that right? It’s my fault. Well I’m not ready for kids either. I’ll be damned if I’m going to be tied down to a bawling brat now. Martin, we got to get your daddy to invest in this farm. We just got to. Help me Martin, please. Help me. My parents will move to town, soon.”
“Don’t beg me. Makes me want to walk out of here. I don’t like this married stuff. It’s too much for me.”
“Too much for you? Why, you poor thing. What are you going to do?”
“Tilly, I told you when I married you, no way was I wanting kids, and then you go and get pregnant? I’d say you’re the one who has stuff to do, not me.”
“But your daddy will be a granddaddy. I bet he’d…”
“Shut up, Tilly. And don’t you dare tell him!”
Tilly picked up her glass with trembling fingers and downed her whiskey as Martin stomped out the door. She walked to the drink cart and poured herself another. She knew what she would do. She’d take a quick trip to the pharmacy. She’d heard there was a man there, in the back, who could help her. Tilly walked to the bedroom she and Martin shared, found her purse and car keys, and then downed the whiskey shot. As she walked out the door, she saw Martin and his red pickup headed out to the highway. Where he was going was of no concern to her, because she was on her way to see a man about getting rid of a baby. The Garners would never have a grandchild from her womb.
Chapter 89
Vicksburg, Mississippi
April 15, 1934
The city of Vicksburg, Mississippi, sat high on a bluff near the eastern shore of the mighty Mississippi. Its history was riddled with racial strife, lynchings, and voter suppression. Economic, civil, and social inequalities were the norm. The word freedman came to represent the idea of suppressed men rather than people who enjoyed freedom. Things hadn’t changed much by the spring of 1934.
With the end of Prohibition on December 5, 1933, there was an awakening of hope among the masses. The miseries of the Depression could now be subdued by legal spirits in most states. Mississippi, however, was not one of them.
In early spring, Meadowlark and Maizie made plans to travel by train to Vicksburg. Sugar was to accompany Maizie as a friend and chaperone. It was Meadowlark’s plan to put on several performances around the Vicksburg area, featuring Maizie singing delta blues with himself on the piano. Meadowlark’s friend, Slick Jones, would join them with his saxophones, an alto and tenor, and drums.
“It’s like killing two birds with one stone,” explained Meadowlark. “We can poke around and see if anyone knows about Maizie’s early life and do a little performing at the same time.”
Mary and Meadowlark designed an announcement featuring the first names of the performers with photos, including the dates and venue of the concerts. The announcement showed Meadowlark at the piano looking into the camera with a welcoming smile; Slick was pictured playing his alto sax. And they used Rye Fulton’s portrait of Maizie. If the two men didn’t get attention, Maizie’s portrait would. Mary had a few misgivings about using the photo, but she did want her trip to yield fruit. She was grateful that the negative belonged to them and they could use it.
The train trip was uneventful. When they passed the Mississippi state line, Meadowlark, Sugar, and Maizie were assigned to a new car; a car reserved for coloreds. The two women, both wearing brimmed fedoras, sat behind Meadowlark on a bench seat. Maizie looked out the window, her blue eyes registering the topography of the delta while she imagined herself, a little girl, and her mother on a journey upriver, just the two of them.
The landscape was verdant; the land, fertile. Since this was an area where the rivers flooded and enriched the soil, cotton plantations, rice paddies, and other farms were in their spring phase of growth. As the train traversed the landscape, Maizie could see a muddy river. Then the train moved away from the river, riding over swampy areas on bridges. Trees covered with low-hanging moss and lush foliage were abundant. The sound of the train’s iron wheels on the rails mesmerized her, and the train rocked and relaxed her. Her eyes grew drowsy.
“There are alligators everywhere in the spring,” Meadowlark offered as a way to enlighten his travel companions about an area he knew so well. “It’s mating season. Keep your eyes open, Maizie. You might see one. There are water moccasins in those rice paddies. Now there’s a snake you won’t forget. Lots of other snakes around the delta.” Maizie opened her eyes, not sure if Meadow was talking to her. She looked disturbed by Meadow’s talk of snakes so he began to talk instead
