"Please go to sleep, please…" "Hush little baby don't you cry…mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird….and if that mockingbird don't sing…mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring…" Lucy attempted to rock her weak daughter to sleep, but the sickly girl didn't sleep much.
The only way Lucy could stay awake was by pacing the small bedroom that she shared with her husband, Howard, but he never came around much. When he did, he was drunk, dead tired, or both. She was barely holding on…& these four months later they still did not know if their daughter would pull through. She & Howard had lost their first baby who was born still.
The ax, set under the bed during childbirth, stayed collecting dust but they held onto the weak thread of hope that the superstition would help pull their little girl through.
Lucy was relieved that the baby was not crying. Since Howard could not seem to hold onto any sum of money, they lived in a room above The County Line, Forrest was nice enough to let them stay free of rent. When she could, Lucy helped out downstairs as Howard did when he wasn't bootlegging or at the sawmill. However, she never failed to feel guilty when the baby wailed at night.
Lucy was so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn't even hear Forrest come up the stairs, and she did not know how long he'd been standing in the doorway. "I don't mean to keep you up," Lucy stopped pacing and merely rocked her daughter gently in her arms, "I'm sorry," she said wearily.
Forrest shook his head. "Jus' wanted to wish you a goodnight, Lu," he said, looking over her tired features. The woman was barely holding it together.
She gave a drained smile and pushed a piece of straggled hair behind her ear, "Thanks, Forrest, you have a good night," she told him affectionately. She saw him finger the small figurine; the one that Forrest never showed to anyone, but always had with him.
She'd seen it on the day when Forrest had gotten the better of a bold patron who tried to violate Lucy. He'd stabbed Forrest in the thigh before Forrest took him down. In order to seal the wound, they opened his pant leg, and by accident his pocket…. But she'd never tell.
He lingered for a moment longer…like he wanted to help her…take the burden off of her shoulders- but it was hers to bear. He nodded and disappeared into the dark hallway towards his room.
Lucy sat down in her rocking chair to continue rocking the baby. Her daughter had calmed and was asleep but it was no use to lay her down…it was as if the baby needed her mother's heart beat to stay calm.
The next morning, Lucy awoke in the rocking chair. When she came to, Lucy began to panic, realizing her daughter was no longer in her arms. She stood up, finding that the baby was not in her cradle either.
When she heard the baby's coo, she headed to the doorway. She found Forrest holding the babe, while he looked out the window into the front of the County Line lot.
Lucy rubbed her eyes. Forrest Bondurant….you were born the wrong brother… she thought before trudging into the hall, "Thanks, Forrest," she said sincerely. When she stepped into the light, Forrest could see the lack of color in Lucy's face, the torpid look in her eyes. She was thin, her skin pulling around her bones as if to just hold her together.
"Made breakfast…" Forrest closed the curtain of the window. "Howard ain't been in…" he headed for the stairs.
It was a common conversation for the pair. Lucy didn't even have to ask anymore.