Marigold moved her hand to Mary’s heart. She could feel an ache in the girl that was a familiar one.

“Mary, what you carry inside you is not the product of sin. It is a gift.”

“What?”

“The gift is life, Mary. You are about to know something you never knew before. You’re about to understand life a little bit better.”

Mary looked at Marigold and said, “What’s that mean?”

“It means you are about to become who you were always meant to be, Mary. You are about to feel the love you were always meant to feel. And when you finally meet this child in your belly, you’ll know what I’m saying is true.”

The girl began sobbing lightly. Then her face busted wide open. The girl’s sister hugged her. Marigold hugged them both.

“I once knew a girl,” said Marigold. “A girl a lot like you. She never thought she would find a place in this world, and she was as sad as you are now, sadder maybe.”

“And what happened to her?”

“She grew up and turned into me.” Marigold kissed the girl on the forehead. She felt a spark in her lips. “Oh my,” said Marigold, withdrawing herself from the girl’s forehead.

“What happened?” the girl said.

“You’re having a girl.”

Fifty-Four
The Game

Joseph wore a white linen suit, a necktie, and a tweed vest. He stood a full foot shorter than Coot. They leaned against the wall of the alley watching the men exit the tavern. Joseph knew what he was looking for, it seemed. And he waited until he found it.

Coot saw a man exiting the tavern across the street. A big man with overalls and a straw hat.

“That’s our man,” said Joseph. “Probably got a pocketful of cotton money and a headful of whiskey.”

Coot observed Joseph in his suit. He’d never seen the man wear this sort of thing before. “You look like you’re going to church, you know that?”

“Hush and pay attention, boy. I’m telling you, that’s our man.”

“I don’t feel right about this, Joe. It just don’t feel right.”

“You wanna eat tonight, or don’t you?”

Coot hung his head. He’d stood in work lines all week in Mobile and had been turned away from every job he’d applied for.

Joseph tugged Coot’s collar and brought him closer. “Here,” he said, filling a leather wallet with several phony hundred-dollar bills. He pressed the wallet against Coot’s chest. “Go get ’em.”

“I don’t know if I remember it all.”

“You do.”

“But . . . you’re sure he’s our guy? What if something goes wrong?”

“That man’s ripe for the picking.”

*  *  *