Authors: Kimberly Willis Holt
Part of Me (16 page)
Several weeks had passed when a package arrived from Amelia Peters. It contained a seven-page letter and her manuscript. She's changed her mind, thought Rose, thankful she hadn't told anybody. Then Rose read the letter. The first page touted all the wonderful sensory details Rose used to paint a picture of life in Houma. But the following pages contained suggestions about how she thought Rose could improve the story. Amelia's last comments summed it all up. “Surely a fourteen-year-old girl experienced emotions of all sorts. How did you feel about your mother making you quit school and asking you to lie about your age? Did you have a love interest? I urge you to revisit those experiences and share them with readers.”
Rose had to chew on that a bit. She didn't want to feel like she was betraying anyone she cared about. But she wanted this book to happen more than anything. Otherwise her stories would exist only in paper tablets that would probably be thrown out after she died. So a few weeks after the letter arrived, Rose opened a private place inside her and wrote about her mother, Antoine, Pie, Possum, Luther, and young Gordie.
Rose was retracing all this in the library when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Momma.”
She glanced up, startled, because Gordie looked so much like Luther had a few years before he'd diedâthe deeply lined forehead, the silver hair, those eyes. Luther's blue eyes had made her grow weak until the day he drew his last breath.
Rose hugged Gordie. “Thanks for being here.” She'd never formally adopted him, but he was hers.
Gordie smiled, nodding. The quiet boy had grown into a quiet man who had recently retired from being a research librarian at LSU. Rose was proud that at least one of her children had worked with words. He knew something about everything. Except maybe women. He was sixty-six years old and was finally getting married, mainly because the woman had asked
him.
“None of us would have missed this day for the world,” Merle Henry said with a wink. Lily Bea stood beside him. They'd struggled over the years with Merle Henry's wanderlust, changing jobs and cities. It was like his desire as a boy to trap a mink, thought Rose. He was never satisfied with possums or raccoons. Somehow he and Lily Bea had made it in spite of all those moves.
Rose glanced toward the door and noticed Annabeth and her family walking in. Emma was as pretty as her mother, but she wished Kyle would cut his hair. He had such a nice face.
Rose embraced each of them. Kyle gave her a quick hug before heading toward the punch bowl and the cookie platter, even though no one else had touched the refreshments.
“Hold on, Kyle,” Paul said. “They're not serving yet.”
“As a matter of fact,” said Rose, “my throat was starting to get dry.” She joined Kyle at the punch bowl. To her surprise, Kyle filled a cup and handed it to her.
“Thank you, young man.”
“Gamma Rose, is your book about Alligator Man?”
Rose nearly choked on her drink. “You remember him?”
“Of course. I remember all about him. I remember how he lived in Bayou Blue and how he rescued the fishermen and those librarians that drove around in that little bus.”
Rose smiled. “The bookmobile.”
“Yeah. Those were cool stories.”
“I'm afraid that's not what this book is about. This one is a true story.”
“Oh,” Kyle said, disappointed. “Well, maybe your next book could be about Alligator Man.”
Rose laughed. “Maybe so.”
Now people from the community entered the library. Rose's daughter, Marie, wasn't there yet. She was late coming into this world and had never been on time a day in her life. Her carefree manner reminded Rose so much of Pie, who had just arrived wearing the most enormous pink hat she'd ever seen. It was a good thing her current boyfriend was short. He fit right under the brim of Pie's hat. Rose tried to remember his name. She knew he had been a banker. Her sister had gone through three divorces before declaring, “Marriage is like spinach. It's just not for me.”
Suddenly she heard someone holler, “Rose Harp, if you aren't a sight for old eyes.” Erma was being wheeled into the room by a young man, probably one of her great-grandnephews.
Rose felt a twinge of guilt. She'd visited Erma only once since Erma moved into the nursing home in Alexandria.
“I'm so proud of you, Rose. All those years around books, and I thought I'd never know a real author. All along, one was right under my nose.”
Hilda stepped forward. “Could you say a few words, Mrs. Harp?”
A lump formed in Rose's throat. She'd not planned on that. But there they all wereâher loved ones standing before her. She didn't know how she'd be able to speak without breaking. Just then Marie burst into the room, announcing, “Sorry! Sorry!”
Merle Henry hollered, “You're right on time, Marie.
Your
time, ten minutes late.”
Everyone laughed. The moment had lightened the mood, and Rose gathered the strength she needed to carry her through.
After swallowing a sip of lemonade, Rose took a deep breath. “Seeing each of you makes me realize what a great life I've truly had just because you've been a part of it.” She looked toward Erma. “Thank you for celebrating with me.” Then facing her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, she said, “My family, you are my home.”
Rose couldn't speak anymore. She felt too full. Everyone seemed to feel the same way, and for a long moment, silence fell upon the room. The afternoon train whistled outside the window and a few cars could be heard driving by.
Suddenly, Kyle yelled, “Hear, hear!” holding up his cup.
Paul shot a stern look Kyle's way, but Merle Henry rested his hands on Kyle's shoulders and said, “Hear, hear!” And since no one had a cup except for Kyle and Rose, everyone else began to clap.
After Rose had settled behind the corner table, they all lined up to get a signed copy of
Books on the Bayous.
She wrote her name until Kyle, the last person in line, had gotten his book signed.
“Thanks, Gamma Rose. I might even read this.”
Her hand throbbed, but it was a good ache. She certainly wasn't going to complain.
“Have you seen what's outside yet, Rose?” Erma asked with the same enthusiasm she'd shown years ago, putting books and people together. She looked like she was about to jump out of that wheelchair.
Everyone headed out of the cramped library and into the parking lot where Annabeth stood by her SUV.
Rose looked confused. Then Merle Henry said, “Annabeth is going to take you on your book tour, Momma.”
“A book tour?” The words came out in a screech.
Annabeth stepped forward. “I hope you don't mind, Gamma Rose. I booked you at libraries from here to Houma. Here's your schedule.” She handed the paper to Rose.
Rose stared down at the itinerary. All the details were thereâthe library talks, the hotels, when to eat. Annabeth had scheduled everything, including a stop in Terrebonne Parish, where it had all started.
“Mother even packed your suitcase for you,” said Annabeth.
Sure enough, Rose's suitcase was at Lily Bea's feet. “We knew if we told you ahead of time you wouldn't go.”
Rose studied all the faces, thinking, I can't go. I'm seventy-nine years old. But why not? What was stopping her now? From where Rose stood she could see the highway stretched out beyond the railroad. She'd been down that road before. Many times. But today it was calling for her.
“Don't worry, Gamma Rose,” Annabeth said. “I'm old enough to drive.”
A few knowing laughs came from the crowd.
“What's so funny?” Kyle asked Lily Bea.
Lily Bea wrapped her arm around Kyle's shoulders. “I'll tell you later. Better yet, read the book.”
Annabeth took hold of Gamma Rose's hand. “I want to show you something.” She guided Rose around to the back of the vehicle where the hatch was open.
Rose stared at the boxes of books. Those were
her
books filled with
her
words.
“Come on, Momma,” Merle Henry said, opening the passenger door. “Go tell your stories.”
The choice belonged to her now. Rose looked up at Annabeth. Then she studied the rest of her family, all three generations. She wanted to freeze this moment. She wanted to take each of them with her. But then Rose realized they would always be a part of her, just as she'd always be a part of them.
The tangerine sun was straight up in the sky. Rose could feel its warmth all the way through her bones. It seemed to be stirring things inside her. She didn't regret one minute of her life, but finally it was her turn.
Rose got inside the car and waved good-bye.
T
HE IDEA FOR
these stories started with a picture I saw in
Down Cut Shin Creek: The Pack Horse Librarians of Kentucky
by Kathi Appelt and Jeanne Cannella Schmitzer. One photo revealed librarians working in a Louisiana bayou community. When I decided to write a generational book, I knew the stories would begin there. I owe a lot to Betty DeYeide Lockwood from Houma, who, at seventeen years old in the 1940s, drove the Terrebonne Parish Library Bookmobile. Her fabulous memory and her tireless energy contributed greatly to this book.
In addition to the above mentioned, I am also deeply grateful to the following: Mark Bahm with the Terrebonne Parish Library; Shannon Holt (many bouquets to you, my dear first reader); Jerry Holt; Christy Ottavianoâwho convinced me this story was a novel, too; the Retreat GirlsâKathi Appelt, Lola Schaefer, Rebecca Kai Dotlich, and Jeanette Ingoldâfor that late-night writing exercise; Brenda Willis; Laurie and Tom Allen; the two Margaretsâ Margaret and Margaret Shaffer; Holly Alexander; the Amarillo Public Library (especially Pat Mullin and Carol Wallace); and the Rapides Parish Public Library.
My Louisiana Sky
When Zachary Beaver Came to Town
Keeper of the Night
KIMBERLY WILLIS HOLT is the author of several award-winning novels, including
Keeper of the Night; When Zachary Beaver Came to Town,
which received the National Book Award for Young People's Literature; and
My Louisiana Sky.
Seven generations of Ms. Holt's family were from Louisiana. Although Ms. Holt grew up in a military family and lived in many different places all over the world, Louisiana remained her emotional home. She now lives in west Texas with her family.
Henry Holt and Company, LLC
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Copyright © 2006 by Kimberly Willis Holt
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First editionâ2006
eISBN 9781466887909
First eBook edition: November 2014