Free No Defense by Rangeley Wallace Page A

small-had been colored below
the words. Eddie’s head brushed against the bottom of the poster as
he carried his load inside.
    “Oooh! Who made that?” I stopped on the
porch to admire the sign.
    “Me!” Jessie said. “I drew you and Will and
Hank. See, I even did Will’s birth color.” She pointed at a red dot
on the child’s thigh.
    “It’s his birthmark,” I said. “You did a
wonderful job, Jessie.”
    “Jolene helped,” she said.
    I bent over to kiss Jessie in thanks,
lowering Will to the level of her face. He stopped crying and
looked at her. “See? He likes you,” I said.
    “I know,” Jessie insisted. ‘Jolene told me
all about being a big sister.”
    I hugged Jolene and kissed her cheek.
“You’re wonderful!” I said. “Only two days here and you’ve worked
miracles. As always. Thanks for coming to help. I don’t think I
would have been brave enough to leave the hospital if you weren’t
here.”
    “I always take care of my babies,” she
said.
    “Will and Hank appreciate it.”
    “I mean you, girl,” she said. “You is my
baby. Get in that room and lay yourself down. You need your
rest.”
     

    Inside the apartment, piles of newspapers and
open boxes covered the living-room floor. Many of the boxes were
already packed with books, records, tapes, and pictures. Despite
the move in-progress, the room was clean and organized.
    “Who did all this?” I was astonished to see
how much work had been accomplished.
    “All of us,” Eddie said. He pushed a box
aside and sat down on the living-room couch with a beer. “If we’re
going, we might as well go.”
    “Look in my room,” Jessie said. “I packed
all my toys.”
    “Then your mama gets in the bed,” Jolene
said.
    “Okay,” Jessie said without complaint.
    I was relieved at how easy this transition
was going to be. Jessie and Jolene had struck up a warm friendship
in a matter of days. Much of the packing was finished. Eddie,
although he seemed a bit distracted, was trying hard to get along.
He hadn’t said anything sarcastic about Tallagumsa or my family all
day, which took some effort on his part.
    The sense of anticipation surrounding the
days leading up to our move reminded me of the summer before I left
for college. Then, as now, there were high expectations and also a
little sadness. Then, I was leaving my whole family behind, even
Jane, who’d left for college her freshman year but come home and
never returned after the summer semester. Then, I had not yet
admitted it to Junior, but I’d known September would mark the end
of our relationship as we headed off to different colleges.
    Four seniors left town in 1969: Junior,
Barbara Cox, Billy Vines, and I. With my move back home, that would
make three out of four who’d returned. Barbara Cox had been lured
away from a teaching job at Vanderbilt to become dean at the state
college. Back in town a few months prior to Junior’s return, she’d
earned a reputation as an incredible fundraiser, a savvy recruiter
of talented professors, and the main reason out-of-state
applications at the college had tripled.
    Because Barbara was very active in state
politics, I had been surprised when I didn’t see her at the
courthouse dedication, but I was even more surprised when Barbara
and Jane appeared at the apartment door in Atlanta six days after
the twins and I got home from the hospital.
    That afternoon I was lying in Jessie’s bed,
desperate for a nap, when the doorbell rang. Although I was
exhausted after being up much of the night with Will, I quickly
forced myself up and ran for the door. I would do anything to avoid
the doorbell waking the twins.
    Jane and Barbara stood on the front porch,
both in suits and heels. Jane looked frumpy; Barbara looked like a
poised and polished Vogue model. She had full pink lips,
aqua-marine eyes, and light blond hair blunt cut in a straight line
at her shoulders.
    We all hugged and said hello.
    “You look great, Barbara,” I said. She’d
always