GodPretty in the Tobacco Field by Kim Michele Richardson

violin.”
    â€œOh . . . that’s . . . What did Abby say?”
    â€œEven Ma can’t boss the president, and she doesn’t know yet. But if I know her, and I do, she will sit down and write him back a letter, giving a dozen reasons why my black hide can’t go.”
    I nodded weakly, knowing Abby would.
    â€œI’m outta here, RubyLyn. Ain’t it swell? Says here I have to go get my army physical at the Nichols Army Hospital in Louisville. I can’t wait.”
    â€œThat’s just . . . swell, Rainey. Swell.” The cheer limped off my tongue.
    â€œCalifornia, here I come.”
    â€œCalifornia?”
    â€œUh-huh. Going to Fort Knox for my basic, then I’ll get my special training at Fort Ord on the big Pacific Ocean. That’s where I’ll train for jungle combat.” He paused to study me.
    â€œCalifornia’s a far way from Nameless—Louisville—us,” I whispered. Us . I tinkered with feelings. It felt right—a lot like my parents and what I remembered from them. The time they’d kissed. Mama’d swooped me up into their hug, and said, “There’s nothing meaner than a bad man, and nothing sweeter than a good one, snugbug. When one as fine as your daddy comes along, you best latch on to him and get all God’s goodness.”
    Even though I didn’t understand most of it back then, I knew she thought my daddy was that fine one. And more and more I couldn’t help thinking Rainey was mine. I suspected it long ago when he gave me the marriage promise. I felt it last winter when he brought hay bedding and milk for the gray barn cat’s new litter, and I knew it every day in the long hours he worked, the strum of his violin, and the smile he saved for me. Now Rainey was off to other worlds that could only be seen inside Gunnar’s old encyclopedias.
    I glanced at Rainey, and said quietly, “I’ve read about other big towns. Even heard where a white woman and black man can hang together, where the black can shop with white folks, pray together, and even . . . marry and live together and stuff.” My face flushed.
    â€œHard to believe.” Rainey wrinkled his brow.
    Hard to believe how big my feelings were growing for him. . . . Weren’t no paper fortunes talking. It was my heart a’knockin’ at something I didn’t quite understand.
    â€œRose says it’s true,” I said.
    â€œShe would know . . . Be nice not having folks fuss at you—be like living a fairy tale, I imagine.”
    Then something else stirred. “Rainey, I’ve been hearing about all the foot soldiers coming home in coffins—the living ones missing legs, blind even—lots of bad stuff. You think about that?”
    Rainey shook his head. “I think about getting away from Nameless more. Hell, girl, none of that stuff is gonna happen to me. They say they got bigger weapons and teach our soldiers how to fight even better now.”
    The look on Rainey hadn’t changed. He believed all of it.
    He peeked over his shoulder, then leaned in. “We both know staying here is as good as being dead . . . I’ll get a leave after two months, Roo. Going to spend it in Louisville. And I’ll have me some good pay, too.”
    â€œWith my prize money for the ’bacco, I aim to live in Louisville. Maybe we can meet or . . .”
    He reached out and snuck a breezy finger to my jaw, lighting skin, dizzying my mind. “I’ve been thinking about us lately—you,” he said softly.
    I searched his face.
    Rainey tilted his chin down, put a hand on my shoulder. “I want to ask you—”
    â€œRubyLyn! Roo, ” Henny hollered from behind us, silencing his question.
    For a split second Rainey tightened his grip on me; then we broke apart, turning to see Henny running toward us from across the fields, flailing her arms.
    â€œRoo . . . oh . . . hell . . .” She bent over and rested