Oh you guise are the sweetest! What would I do without you? Corner rocking? Check. Severe weeping? Check. Moan over cupcakes? Check and check.

I made Cherry smile and I quote "so freaking hard". I hope this means rainbow porn.

Cinny is trying to have my characters mugged in prison. NO! No soap dropping for you!

Chapter Fourteen: Protest

"Fear is a disease that eats away at logic and makes man inhuman."

~Marian Anderson

(IPOV)

I bit my bottom lip in an attempt to keep from smiling about the soreness between my legs. Making love to Lincoln wasn't anything like Alice had said it would be. Well, it hurt like hell— that part was true— but she didn't mention anything about my heart feeling like it was going to explode with pure happiness.

"You're in an awfully good mood this morning," Mother stated, grinning at me above her orange juice.

"Not because of you!" I scowled, turning away. Bitterness rose like bile in my throat and with her smug expression, I had little reason to swallow it. "I'm still not speaking to you, Mother."

"Now Scarlett, you can't ignore me forever."

"Watch me," I spit out resentfully. "You are a coward and I don't associate with cowards."

"Scarlett!" Father placed his newspaper on the table and reprimanded me for my lack of respect. "That is enough! You want to cry over a colored boy, that's your own sick business, but you will not talk to your mother in that manner. Now apologize!"

"No."

"Scarlett, I am warning you—"

"And I am warning you," I repeated firmly. "You can lock me in this God-forsaken house but you can't make me converse with either one of you."

Father glared and Mother sighed with pity. "Scarlett, you aren't grounded. Punishing you to your room will accomplish nothing. Besides, there's a mother-daughter brunch happening at the tea room today and I want you to accompany me."

"Fine," I sulked. "And what will you do today, Father? Hang a Negro by their neck? Perhaps one wasn't enough. Maybe you'll hang three."

Father ignored my insult and adjusted his tie. "For your information, I will be attending the rally. Someone's got to put an end to those ingrates."

"You're protesting against them?" I asked in astonishment.

"I provided the police department with more resources and paid for the signs," Father boasted proudly. "Of course I'm going."

"You racist, chauvinistic piece of sh—"

"Scarlett!" Mother shouted my name before I could spew any more hateful words. "You are excused from this table. Go get ready. We will be leaving promptly at 11."

"Hmph!" Scraping my chair loudly across the marble floor, I stood up and folded my arms. "Jenks, I need assistance with my clothing."

Jenks placed his silver platter down immediately. "Yes, Miss Scarlett."

With Jenks following behind me, I stormed towards my room. Jenks closed the door quietly behind us and I sat on my bed with a huff, the silk comforter billowing around me. "Jenks, what was Father talking about? What resources?"

"I ain't got all the facts, but I heard Mister Swan on the phone. Says he got those badges some batons, guard dogs, and paid for big guns. Seems like Blacks will do more runnin' than protesting today, Miss Scarlett."

I inhaled sharply at Jenks' news. Carlisle was going to be there! I didn't want him to get hurt at the hands of my father. The Masens had suffered enough.

"I'm worried for Carlisle," I told Jenks honestly. "He won't know what he's walking into."

Jenks laughed. "Seems like you and I don't know the same man. Mister Carlisle is a strong and mighty fella. I reckon he can take care of himself. And you, Miss Scarlett, need to get dressed."

"I will," I replied, nodding. "Will you attend the brunch with me?"

"Of course. Mrs. Swan already has me serving the meals."

"I bet she does," I muttered under my breath. Jenks smiled and left me to get dressed. I showered, taking my time under the hot, cascading water and thinking about last night. Lincoln had finally left in the wee hours of the morning and I hoped he and his family got a chance to smooth things over. Lincoln could be a bit stubborn and didn't seem to understand his father's intentions.

I fixed my hair in a beehive style, adorned with a simple blue ribbon. Figuring I hadn't drove Mother into an early grave just yet, I tried on a pair of blue and white gingham pedal pushers with a simple blouse.

By the time I glanced at my clock it was nearly 11. Mother called my name and I raced out of my room, running down the stairs.

"No! Absolutely not, Scarlett Swan!" Mother yelled at me in horror. "What has gotten into you? You are not wearing that to a formal tea room!"

"I think I look lovely," I said with a smirk. "Wouldn't you agree Jenks?"

Jenks attempted to hide his grin but failed. "Yes, Miss Scarlett."

"Scarlett!" Mother tapped her foot angrily and pointed to the steps.

"Fine, Mother, I will change into a stuffy flowered dress that I will choke in before the hors d'oeuvres are even served. But I saw on television that in Hollywood, boots as tall as my leg will be all the rage, just you wait and see."

"Not while I'm living," Mother retorted.

"White boots!" I taunted, retreating up the stairs. "Shiny, leather, sexy white boots!"

I laughed out loud, changing into a champagne colored dress and kitten heels. I switched my ribbon to compliment the atrocious, fluffy gown and stuck my tongue out at my reflection.

Mother may have won the battle, but she would not win the war.

Today, I was meeting Lincoln.

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The Divine Tea Room was an exquisite manor in the center of the city that held gatherings for Birmingham's elite. As soon as we walked in, Jenks joined the other servers and I was introduced to Mrs. Mallory, the hostess of the brunch. In her white dress and wide brimmed hat, she kissed Mother on both cheeks.

"And is this the lovely Scarlett Isabella?" Mrs. Mallory asked, holding out her hand.

"Just Scarlett," I corrected her. Mother nudged me and I shook the woman's hand.

"You are more beautiful than your mother described," Mrs. Mallory gushed. "Come along now, the others are waiting."

We followed Mrs. Mallory up a small flight of stairs into a room filled with several white tables and expensive china. Women filled the seats, chatting quietly—gossiping, no doubt—and nodding graciously when Mother and I approached. Several servers were already passing out food, but I reached for the first glass of champagne.

I had taken a few sips when Mrs. Mallory began speaking to a lady named Ms. Emily Young.

"My, it is a mess out there," Mrs. Mallory exclaimed. "The streets are crowded and I barely arrived here on time! I wish they would make everyone go home. Wouldn't you agree, Emily?"

"I'll say," Emily responded, swinging her blonde hair behind her shoulders. "Absolute nonsense if you ask me. Those coloreds should just be happy they aren't slaves anymore. But protesting for rights? It will never happen."

Everyone paused as we listened to the ruckus outside. The chants were getting louder and we heard several bangs and the sound of breaking glass.

"Well Brady, my wonderful husband who is the police chief of course, told me several officers weren't attending the streets today," Mrs. Mallory said in a hushed voice.

"Oh?" Mother asked nosily.

"The word is—and you cannot tell anyone—is that they've gotten a tip on a biracial child living in town!"

I wasn't sure who choked first, Mother or myself, but Mother shook her head. "Are you sure it wasn't a rumor?"

"Are you calling my Brady a liar?" Mrs. Mallory asked in astonishment. "Of course it's true. And when they find that … that thing … they will burn it alive!"

"Murdering a child?" Even Emily appeared shocked.

"Serves those coloreds right! And what kind of Caucasian sleeps with a Negro? It's filthy and against the Lord's will. I hope they burn the parents as well. Birmingham has enough going on without adding mutts to the mix."

The other ladies murmured and nodded their heads in agreement. The entire conversation was making me sick.

"Mother, I'm not feeling well. I think I need some fresh air."

"Outside, darling?" Mother shook her head. "It's too dangerous. There's a sitting room downstairs. Go lie down. I'll send Jenks to check on you in a few minutes."

Of course she would; God forbid she have to leave her precious friends to care about her own ailing daughter.

I excused myself and walked slowly out of the room. As soon as I turned the corner I searched for Jenks, who was in the kitchen with the other help. I motioned towards him and he rushed towards me.

"You alright, Miss Scarlett?"

"I'm fine, Jenks. I told Mother I was sick," I whispered. "I'm going to go meet Lincoln. I need to make sure he's okay. Can you cover for me?"

"But Mrs. Swan—"

"Is too busy gossiping about how to burn biracial babies alive," I finished for him. "Please, Jenks. I need your help."

Jenks nodded. "You be careful out there, Miss Scarlett."

"I will," I promised. I kissed his cheek, thanking him for his loyalty, and snuck down the stairs. I found a back entrance and left out the door, waiting for a minute to make sure no one was behind me. When I thought it was clear, I navigated my way around several buildings, avoiding the main street. The crowds were loud and boisterous, with coloreds chanting, "Blacks fight for White rights!" over and over again.

The uneven pavement seemed to melt beneath my feet and each stride felt heavier than the last. I quickened my pace, swallowing from the alcohol that had made my throat feel dry. I was parched from the sweltering heat and knew that I may not reach Lincoln in time. I swatted at my hair and perspiration clung to my skin, rolling down in salty, thick beads. I was vaguely aware of the stinging in my legs as I panted and finally reached our castle. Police dogs were barking and growling at a crowd of young black men as I reached for the door handle. I ran inside before anyone noticed.

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"Lincoln! Lincoln, are you here?" I called out my love's name in the darkness and a rough hand covered my mouth to silence me.

"Shh, it's me."

I turned around in a whirl and Lincoln and I were face-to-face. I grabbed him in an embrace, never wanting to let him go.

"You're safe," I cried, overcome with tears. "I thought they'd found you. I thought …"

I trailed off and Lincoln wiped my face with the pads of his thumb. "What's wrong, Princess? Who's they?"

"The police," I managed to strangle out. "They know of a biracial child in town! They're going to find him and burn him!"

Lincoln hugged me tightly, rocking me side to side. "It's not me, Scarlett. No one knows about me, okay? I'm fine."

His news should have made me feel better, but it didn't. If it wasn't Lincoln, then it was someone else. Some innocent, poor human who was going to die and with the tension in Birmingham high, I wondered who else was going to be sacrificed. They were like starved animals, begging for the darkest meat, ready to ravish Negros in packs.

Exhausted, I sat down on the hard cement floor with Lincoln following and sitting behind me. He leaned against the wall and I cradled myself between his legs. He gripped me tightly, kissing along my neck.

"Did you and your father make up this morning?" I asked quietly.

"If by make up you mean he didn't kill me, then yes, I suppose. Pa told me he loved me when he left with Embry. I said it back but I don't even know if he heard me."

"He heard you Lincoln," I assured him. "Your father loves you more than anything."

"I know," he replied. "Ma didn't even stop me when I left this morning. I think they're both tired of fighting. I don't know which is worse, keeping me locked up or getting to the point of not caring."

We sighed together, each of us trying not to weigh the other down with our own problems. The crowds outside were getting louder and every crash made me tremble. All I could think of was Carlisle and I knew Lincoln was worried about him too.

"I can't stay long," I admitted in a soft voice. "I'm supposed to be at a brunch with Mother."

"Then we better make every second count," Lincoln whispered in my ear.

I moaned, reaching around for Lincoln as he leaned forward and kissed me on my lips. I melted into him, trying to forget the outside world and the evidence that we would never be together in daylight. The thought made my hormones reach their peak, and I turned the gentle kiss into one of need. I pulled at the collar of his shirt as I leaned backward until he hovered over me.

Yesterday was absolutely beautiful, but we didn't have time for a repeat. I clawed at his trousers, unbuttoning them as he pulled my panties down my legs. I was still quite sore from our love-making the day before, but it didn't stop me from allowing him to rub small circles where I needed him most.

I whimpered as he kissed me and he lined himself up and pushed slightly against my opening. The burn started all over again, a reminder that I had given myself to the boy who had my heart. I winced as he cradled my head, filling my ears with murmurs of love and forever.

I concentrated on his eyes instead, watching him with fascination as he scrunched his face, slowly pushing inside of me. When I clenched my thighs, it only made the tightness worse. He groaned in the darkness, pulling my knees upward on either side of him.

"Relax, baby," he murmured. "It's just me."

I tried to heed his words and loosened the muscles in my body. He slid out deliberately slow, and then pressed himself in again. Every movement felt like heaven and with heavy breaths I kissed my angel.

"Do you hear that Princess?" Lincoln moved his hips, thrusting me against the dirty floor. "You hear them fighting over color?"

I made inaudible noises as our bodies melted together, our heat making breathing air almost unbearable.

"And here we are, baby, making love while they're fighting," Lincoln cooed. "See, they think I don't have the right to be with you. They think I'm not the same." Lincoln's necklace dangled over my throat, hitting the bottom of my chin repeatedly. He curled his tongue, licking the sheen of sweat across the top of my lip.

"They think I don't deserve you." Lincoln thrusted harder and faster and our skin slapped together in the dim room. My back arched and he embraced me tighter, plunging into me recklessly. I cried out, digging my heels into the backs of his thighs.

"But they don't know us, baby," he groaned, pressing his forehead against mine. "They don't know how beautiful this is." I scratched at Lincoln's back, the bundle of nerves in my stomach tightening. I blocked out the noises of the city, focusing on his lips as he nipped my mouth. An intense sensation coursed through my veins and I felt the pressure build up in my lower half. My legs trembled and I gasped, feeling the goosebumps dance across my flesh.

"They don't know, Princess, that I love you."

Unable to hold on any longer I screamed out, and Lincoln kissed me roughly to muffle my cries. Pleasure surged through me and I exploded around him. I convulsed and shook, biting his lips until my muscles went rigid. Lincoln grunted, plunging into me rapidly until he reached his own orgasm. He bucked several times, quivering as he finally let go.

I clung to him, panting and allowing him a moment of reprieve as his body went slack. I felt sticky between my legs and with a kiss, he slowly pulled out of me. The white substance ran down my legs and Lincoln cleaned me, using my abandoned panties and stuffing them in his pocket.

"Taking a parting gift?" I mumbled.

Lincoln grinned, zipping up his pants. "Something to remember you by until next time."

I giggled then remembered where I was supposed to be. If Mother discovered I was gone, Jenks and I both would be in trouble. I stood up, adjusting my dress and dusting myself off. "I have to go."

"Already?" Lincoln appeared disappointed and I hated to be the one to wipe the smile off of his face.

"Jenks is covering for me," I explained and Lincoln nodded knowingly.

"I feel a bit used," he joked, standing beside me.

"We'll meet again on Monday," I promised.

"Well at least let me walk you back," Lincoln offered. When I tried to protest, he picked his hat up off the floor and placed it on his head. "See? I've got this covered."

"That hat is disgusting," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"You mean debonair?" he boasted. "I know, sweet girl. Now come on."

Lincoln grabbed my hand and we walked to the door, kissing one last time. He opened it and the bright sun illuminated the room. The protestors' voices boomed in our ears and Lincoln glanced both ways before leading us out down the alley.

We half-jogged, darting between buildings and away from the main street, when we heard loud screams. Dogs barked, sirens blared, and hoses were blasted at a group of coloreds. The crowd marched in synch, flooding the streets with demands of a better life. They protested by the thousands and I wondered if they knew the costs of their actions. They lined the pockets of the local government to dispute the same ones who banned them the rights they so desperately wanted. Each activist made people like my Father a richer man.

"Burn it! Burn it!"

Lincoln tried to tug me along but my feet were moving on their own accord. Every step pushed me closer to the street, as if the crowd were calling my name.

"Scarlett! Come on! You've got to get back!" Lincoln's pleas drowned in my ears and I pushed my way through the center of the crowd. My vision was pixelated, blurred by the mass of humanity jostling to be heard. I saw Carlisle first, his large frame hovering near the center of the commotion. He was yelling at a man in a business suit, his fists raised in the air defiantly.

Father.

The man whose DNA was in my body was holding a baby. The policeman beside him held a red container and doused the crying baby in liquid. Citizens, both black and white, screamed loudly, fearful of the barbaric act of cruelty that was about to take place.

Carlisle attempted to step forward and was beaten with several batons. They thumped against him and I heard the blows echo in my ears. He was pushed backwards, stumbling into the horde of people. Other coloreds held him back, but he struggled, trying to reach for the infant.

A biracial infant.

"You Negros want rights?" Father's voice boomed with a fire of fury and hatred. His eyes narrowed, his face as dark and angry as a storm gathering clouds. He punctuated each venomous word, spitting with a torrent of rage he reserved for those who differed from him. "I'm giving you the right to go to hell! This monster is an abomination, and you coloreds are going to learn what happens when you ravage our women!"

The protestors cried and screamed but I heard nothing. I watched in horror as Father placed the baby on the ground, accepting a pack of matches from another police officer. He struck the match, prepared to drop the lit flame below.

"Scarlett!"

"Scarlett!"

Shots rang out amongst the crowd and I was shoved to the side. My vision blurred as fire spread a dark smoke into the air. As my world went dark, my knees buckled beneath me and all I could hear was a crying angel before I hit the ground.

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(EPOV)

I yelled Scarlett's name, shoving people to the side as absolute chaos broke out. I reached for her, several feet away, watching as she swayed side to side, prepared to collapse to the dark pavement.

"I've got her!" Pale arms caught Scarlett just in time and when I glanced over, it was Alice, her cousin. I nodded once, surprised by her appearance, but thankful she was there to watch over my girl. I was too busy trying to reach Pa, who I noticed was in the midst of the circle.

He turned around, trying to break free with a drenched infant in his arms. He ducked his head and ran, a white man hovering behind him with a protective arm. Pa glanced up, noticing me first.

"Lincoln, get out of here! It's too dangerous!" The wailing baby and boisterous crowd made his words almost inaudible and another gunshot rang out. I reached Alice, who was struggling to hold up Scarlett. I lifted up one side of her, with Alice helping to balance her weight. We did our best to drag her to the sidewalk.

"This way!" A black woman gestured to us and we followed, stooping and bobbing to elude the police. I glanced behind me, but Pa was too busy trying to cradle the infant closely to his chest. We finally reached a small store and I read the faded sign: The Olden Golden Thrift Shop.

The woman fumbled with her keys, unlocked the door and rushed us inside. She closed it and bolted it back, breathing a sigh of relief. Alice and I looked around for a space to place Scarlett, but the white man removed clothing from a brown, worn loveseat. Carefully, we laid her down and Pa scanned the store, desperately searching for something.

"Water!" he exclaimed frantically. "I need water!"

The woman led him to a back area labeled as the bathroom to wash the gasoline off the baby. I huffed, leaning over and holding my hands to my knees.

"Alice," I panted. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm with my father. Father, this is Edward Lincoln Masen. Edward Lincoln, this is my father, James."

"Scarlett's uncle?" I asked, trying to put the pieces together.

"That's me," he smiled, reaching out to shake my hand. I shook it firmly, finally realizing the family resemblance. "Pleasure to meet you, although not under these circumstances."

"Ain't that the truth," I muttered. Kneeling before Scarlett, I brushed the wisps of hair away from her forehead. "I need a cool washcloth. She's out cold."

"I'll get it," Alice offered, heading in the same direction as Pa.

James reminded me of Mr. Swan, only he had kinder eyes and was slightly taller than his brother. He patted me on the shoulder, noticing my worried expression. "She'll be fine. That niece of mine is a fighter."

"It's my fault," I admitted sadly. "I told her to meet me in town and I shouldn't have. My Pa was right. It's complete chaos out there. But I had to see her."

"Young love makes you do crazy things." James winked at me just as Alice arrived back with the washcloth. I placed it on Scarlett's forehead, waiting for her to come to.

"How's the baby?" I asked.

"Almost clean," Alice replied, sitting on the arm of the loveseat. "I can't believe Uncle Charles would do such a thing!"

"I believe it," James said coldly. "That brother of mine is callous and evil."

I was stunned by the description he gave his own flesh and blood, but even more so how they could be polar opposites. I wondered why they were so different, but I didn't get a chance to ask. Pa and the woman returned, this time with her cradling the baby in fresh clothes and a blanket. He had finally stopped crying and was tucked in, sleeping soundly. She laid the infant in a used crib, marked for half off. Sighing, she wiped her brow.

"Sorry, I didn't get a chance to introduce myself. I'm Nessie, manager of this fine shop and a friend of Scarlett."

We took turns introducing ourselves, but Nessie stared at me the longest. Or more specifically, my neck.

"Something the matter?" I questioned, looking at my clothes. I was sweaty, sure, but I was dressed decently.

"No," Nessie smiled. "Nothing at all."

Scarlett moaned and every set of eyes turned towards her. I clutched her hand tightly. "Scarlett, it's me. You're fine, Princess. You're all right."

"Lincoln?" She gasped softly, her eyes fluttering open. As if she had remembered something, she sat up rapidly, looking around wildly. "The baby! The baby's on fire!"

I tucked a strand behind her ear and caught the washcloth as it fell. "The baby's fine. Pa got him before anything happened."

"Oh, Carlisle! Thank you!" Scarlett wept and lunged for Pa, wrapping her arms around him. His eyes widened, like he was surprised by her affection.

"You're … uh … welcome," Pa coughed out, patting her back awkwardly. "But would you two mind telling me what you're doing out in the mess? You could have gotten yourselves killed!"

Scarlett froze, unable to think of something on the spot, but I came up with the first lie I could. "We were looking for you. We didn't want you to get hurt."

"I'm fine, Lincoln, but I don't want you out here. Matter of fact, none of you should be. If Mr. Swan discovers I'm your Pa—"

"Then he'll have to get through me first!" James said boldly. "Although I have to ask, why is he after you?"

Scarlett rehashed the entire story of the hanging, with gasps coming from Nessie every now and then. Alice smiled at the parts about how we began courting but oddly, Pa didn't look as angry as I thought he would.

"He's got to be stopped," James proclaimed when Scarlett was finished. "This has gone on long enough. He was roughed up by someone when we were children and he can't let it go."

"Roughed up?" Scarlett asked softly.

James sighed, explaining the details. "Charles was just seven years old when he and I were playing out in the street. Our family was well off, even back then, and Mother called out for me through the window. I had broken one of her glass vases and she discovered it. So I ran inside to blame my brother of course, and left him alone. By the time I had made it back out, he was on the sidewalk, bleeding and naked. A black boy was hovering over him and when Charles opened his eyes, that boy was the first thing Charles saw. The boy said he didn't do it, that he was trying to help, but before I could ask any questions he ran off. Charles admitted he was attacked from behind, but in his mind he put two and two together. He's hated coloreds ever since. The police even found his belongings down the street, in our white neighborhood, but to Charles it didn't matter. My brother's been on a warpath for blacks, deeming them all thieves and criminals without taking the chance to know the individual. But it's gotten worse. He's not seven years old anymore and today he tried to murder a baby in the middle of the street. He's a monster."

"And Mother doesn't care," Scarlett replied bitterly. "I'm not going home, Uncle James. I can't look him in the eye, especially after this."

"You can come stay with us," Alice offered cheerfully. "If that's okay, I mean."

"It sure is," James smiled brightly. "In fact, you all can. It may be a while before things calm down around here. Businesses will be closed until everything's cleaned up."

"But my wife—" Pa interrupted.

"Is more than welcome to join us. Besides, we have plenty of space and I would love to introduce the man who saved an infant to my Victoria."

Pa looked hesitant, but I begged him relentlessly. "Pa, please? Like you said, it's not safe anyways. And you wouldn't want us to be in danger would you?"

Pa glanced at the crib. "But that baby … I don't even know who he belongs to."

"I'll find out," Nessie spoke up. "He can stay with me until I find the parents. Getting out of town would be best for all of you."

"I suppose," Pa relented and I jumped up, hugging him tightly.

"That's the spirit!" James grinned and helped Scarlett up. "Alice, Scarlett, and I will go get Renee, while you go home and get packed. We'll meet at the train station on Route 49 in one hour."

"Thank you," Pa said humbly. "It's not often I meet folks who will associate with my kind."

"Your kind?" James repeated. "You mean heroes?" Pa chuckled and James patted him on the back. "You all hurry. And be safe."

Pa nodded and asked to use the store phone to call Ma. With Pa's friend Embry lost in the shuffle, we needed a ride home. Pa said we'd meet her near the edge of town and Nessie led us out the rear entrance. The outside chaos wasn't as loud, but we could hear fighting on the main street.

"Pa?" I paused momentarily before we crossed behind a jewelry store. "What made you save that baby? I saw Mr. Swan and those policeman. You almost got shot."

Pa looked at me and lifted my chin with his strong hand. "I had to, Son. He reminded me too much of you."

"Because he's yellow?" I asked.

"Because he's human," Pa responded with a grin, patting my hat. "'Sides, did you see those cheeks? He's a handsome boy."

I laughed. "More handsome than me?"

"With that raggedy hat on, yes indeed."

Pa and I chuckled and we continued running.

For once, we weren't running away, but towards something instead.

Something great, like people that were compassionate and kind-hearted and considerate.

We needed more people in the world like James, but when I looked at my Pa, I realized we were well on our way.

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Ma took a bit of convincing on the ride home. Pa explained everything, with the riots and the baby and James intervening. She appeared shocked by the events that had occurred and even more so that we made it out alive. By the time we parked in the driveway, she was hesitant to leave town, but realized the severity of the situation. We packed quickly, taking only necessary items before loading them into the truck. Pa drove this time and we met James at the train tracks just in the nick of time.

James and Pa rolled down their windows, parked so that the vehicles were parallel to each other.

"We're headed to Meadow Hills," James yelled out. "I'm taking the back roads, just in case. We should be there in an hour or so."

"I'm right behind ya!" Pa shouted back.

I glanced past Pa to see Scarlett and gave her a timid wave. Jenks was in their vehicle too, but I saw no sign of Scarlett's mother. I wondered if she would be driving on her own.

Pa's truck rumbled after James' sleek black car and we settled in for the long drive. Ma patted her knee nervously, which just made me anxious in return.

"Ma, cut it out," I told her. "I can't think straight with all that tapping."

The truck lurched forward and bounced along, with me in the middle getting jarred side to side.

"I'm sorry, honey," Ma apologized. "I know they're nice people, but what if Charles shows up out of nowhere? It won't matter how far away we are, Swans are Swans."

"We'll be fine, Esme," Pa assured her. "How about you dig out one of those chicken wings you packed? I'm starving."

"Yeah, me too," I added, licking my lips.

"You know, I'm beginning to feel used," Ma replied jokingly.

I laughed out loud. "That's what I said to Scarlett earlier!"

Ma and Pa both turned to look at me and I glanced down at my hands. "I meant, how about that chicken? I sure am hungry."

"You'll get some bird all right," Pa scowled. "The birds and bees talk. Esme, you want this one or should I?"

"Be my guest," Ma said firmly, passing Pa a piece of fried chicken.

"Son, when a man and woman love each other …"

I groaned, folded my arms, and tried not to vomit at the conversation that ensued for the next hour. By the time we arrived at the sign labeled Meadow Hills, I figured there was nothing else to lose. I pulled out a cigarette, lit it right there in the truck, and watched Ma blow a gasket.

She waved at the smoke, coughed, and yelled all over again when Pa asked me if I had another.

Ma told me I was a heathen, full of sex and cigarettes and sin.

Pa didn't say anything, but he and I both knew he was laughing on the inside.