1974
On that first day of school Mama wrapped her hand around mine as we walked together into the classroom at Cobb’s Creek Country School. I’d been so sheltered about our family’s past – not to mention the small-minded ways of Hadlee, Mississippi – that I was completely unprepared for what would come.
Mama leaned down and whispered, “No need to worry, Jason Lee. Everything’ll be fine, son.” I breathed in the familiar almond-cherry scent of her lotion. “Be brave like your daddy was,” she said. “He was a hero.”
Straightaway a lump caught in my throat. Those were the first words she’d spoken of him to me. Until then, I never even wondered about the man.
With that she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and moved toward the door. She turned back and smiled at me before leaving.
Despite my initial eagerness to attend school, when I looked around I felt alone and uneasy with the surroundings – the enormous room, the five rows of desks, the green chalkboard along the front wall, the rowdy voices, and the children’s faces, dirty and clean, black and white. They were unfamiliar faces, and as different from each other as the eggs collected from our chicken coop, except for the two boys leaning against the back wall. Their faces were the same, with wide foreheads and pointed chins. But one had a head of hair that looked like it’d never seen a comb, and the other’s hair was shaved to the scalp, exposing three round sores along the side of his head.
The one with hair burrowed his dirt-stained hands into his pockets and set his eyes on me. His piercing glare caused my mouth to go so dry I licked my lips, then turned toward the windows, pretending to study the white magnolia flowers bouncing on the branches of the trees that lined both lanes of County Road 38, the one thing I knew connected me to my home three miles away.
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Hi Nancy, Long time since we parted. I see you’re still selling your book. Hope it is going well…it is a great book. Miss you. I am here in “who are these people village? Not to bad. Really different kind of life. I am still wondering how and why I am here. Say HI to all for me if you ever see anyone. I am still writing. In a great class here with a wonderful teacher named Susan Bono.There are 12 in the class and are all ( 0ver the age of 80) wonderful and interesting and Funny . Say hi to ” the Hubby.” Is he still working at his beautiful work? Do you ever see any of our old group? Knowing you, you have long passed the “group bit.” Miss you. Love, Judy