When the doors opened at 6:00 am, the mothers were lining up half way around the church, but by 10:00, they were dribbling into the cafeteria in little clumps of ones, twos and threes.

Some of the women simply walked in for the milk looking tired. Others were almost defiantly cheerful, even chatty.

And others, even many of those who were married, looked ashamed. They were the ones who felt they had to explain to Laurette why they had come. “My husband was laid off last year… I’ve been too sick to work myself…Just a bad patch really… Just this once.”

Laurette always nodded and said, “of course.”

“Some of these children can’t wait,” Artiste had said at the last Milk Committee Meeting, and he’d begun making phonecalls. Sockerhauser dairy had made a one-time contribution, but it was fresh rather than powdered milk. Which meant there wasn’t as much and they would have to distribute it quickly.

The mothers would would come in and give their allotment numbers, Judith would check them off the list, and give them what they needed. No walk-ins — except that Laurette came in to tell Judy that someone badly in need had called, someone not on the list, and Judy was to give her some milk anyway.

“I know Selina Ballou!” Judy exclaimed when Laurette gave her the name.

“We were in school together. We were friends,”

“In that case, cherie, you must go down to the basement and work with Sergei and Jerry until I call you. She will be here in a few minutes.”

“Can’t I talk to her?”

“Absolutely not! I doubt very much she would be happy to see you.”

“But I want to see her, Tante.”

I didn’t know she was in trouble. I’m worried about her. I want…”

“It’s not about what you want.” Snapped Laurette.

“Don’t be cruel,” she added gently. “Stay out of sight. I’ll tell you about your friend after I see her.”

So, Judy spent the last hour of her shift at Christ the Sailor downstairs, counting milk bottles and feeling anxious about whether they’d have enough after giving some to Selina, then guilty because it felt like she was begrudging her old friend the help she needed.

“I hear you’re leaving us,” said Jerry. “Not for good, I hope.”

Everyone kept saying that.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be back sometimes,” she said, and he gave her a keen, slightly reproachful look before turning back towards the milk urns.

“Judy,” said Sergei softly. He always spoke her name softly, as if he were entranced by it.

“I just want you to know that I think it’s great! Boston! You know, it gets really cold there! It snows! You’re going to need to get new clothes and everything!”

People also kept telling her about the snow.

Judy smiled at Sergei. He was a sweet kid, and she knew he had a crush on her. That bright, slightly hopeful look was one she’d seen many times in the eyes of many boys. Some men, too. It still slightly mystified her. There were plenty of prettier girls on the Island.

“I promise I’ll dress warm,” she said.

“You’ll send back pictures of the snow, won’t you? I mean of you standing in it! Holding a snowball, maybe. Maybe you’ll even make a snowman! Or ride in a sleigh!”

“She won’t have time to send you snapshots, Sergei,” said Jerry, his face worried as he counted the milk cans.

“I’ll try to send everybody pictures,” she said. Judy had given up pointing out it wasn’t absolutely certain yet, that it all depended on whether or not she was awarded the Kilkenny Prize. Harvard was expensive. Just living mainland was expensive. But every time she’d started to say that, people would shake their heads before she could finish.

“It’s yours,” they said. “Everyone knows you’ll get it.”

She knew too. She knew, even though she could barely believe it. Now she understood the expression “walking on air” because that was how she had felt ever since she got the letter from Harvard.

It was like having wings. It was like looking up into the blue and knowing that soon she would be there, sailing through the clouds, exploring the very sky.

After half an hour, Laurette summoned her back upstairs.

“Your friend, has been here and gone,” she said.

“She has a child. A boy. She is not married. The father, of course, is.” Laurette shrugged, resigned.

“How did she look?”

“Like most of them. Tired. Afraid. Ashamed.”

“Is she…”

“I can tell you no more than that, Cherie. I promised her. She knows I am your aunt.”

“Oh.”

“She wanted me to tell you she had learned of your good news and was delighted for you.”

“Thank her for me.”

“Please trust me, Judy. She would not have been happy to see you here. Maybe somewhere else, some other time, but not now. Not here.”

“I guess… I guess it’s good she feels that way. It means she’s not, well, broken.”

Laurette sighed and shook her head. “Too many of them are embarrassed. Even those who have husbands, but too many children. Even those who work hard, but still don’t make enough to support themselves. I see it all the time, and it makes me sad,” she said.

“When someone is so ashamed to be going through hard times and in need of help, even when it’s not their fault at all, I have to wonder.”

“In what spirit did those shamed people gave to the poor in the past?”

***

She’d agreed to meet Cousin Lee at the Spotswood for a late lunch at 1:00. It relieved Judy when she saw Laney there. The way Lee had extended the invitation on the phone last night had left her slightly uneasy.

“I just got your wonderful news,” she’d said, in her clipped, west coast accent. “We need to talk for a bit. Nothing dire, sweetie, just a small celebration and a conversation about your plans and the lay of the land.”

“Are you joining us?” Judy asked Laney. Her cousin shook her head and smiled. “I’m off to Glaspell’s,” she said. “I heard they got in some lovely new glass tumblers.”

“But, Judy, listen, we have got to go shopping together. It’s cold where you’re going. You’re going to need a completely new wardrobe! Please tell me you haven’t already bought it. It will be so much fun!”

“I already promised Grandma I’d go with her.”

“Oh that will be an absolute riot! I’ve shopped with her, and Aunt ‘Sha has wonderful taste. Can I come? Let’s make it a threesome! Promise me!”

“I promise.”

Laney walked away, her stride jaunty, raising one hand over her shoulder and twiddling her fingers in farewell.

“You know, don’t you, that she’s seeing your old boyfriend,” said Lee.

“My old boyfriend?”

“Kay Cottingham. The boy who’s going to be an eye doctor or something. Wasn’t he seeing you for awhile?”

“Kay?” Judy smiled. “Yes, we dated a few times. He’s sweet. I’m glad to hear it.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

Cousin Lee gave a brisk, approving nod with the air of someone checking off an item from a list, then looked over the tables. “It’s on me today,” she said.

Judy ended up being sorry she hadn’t brought a notepad. Lee had so much to tell her about places she should visit, theaters, restaurants — and people. It astonished Judy how many people Lee knew in New England. “Never you mind, Lee said. “I’ll write up a list for you, with phone numbers.” She nodded at the little bottle of All is Lost on the table. “You better stock up on that, by the way. They don’t season the food in Boston so you’d notice.”

Near the end of the meal Lee asked about Tante, and Judy told her about what had been going on at the Church, Uncle Artiste’s projects, and of course, the worries about his health. “Poor Tante,” said Lee. “You know, she nursed her dear friend, Madame Swift, while she was dying. And she took care of my mother, you know. And Papa and me afterwards.”

Judith decided to take a chance. “Uncle Leon says she was a second mother to you.”

“Hm. I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“Nobody could replace Momma. But I don’t know what we would have done if Tante hadn’t come to stay with us. Papa was brokenhearted, and I was no help, just a self-centered brat of fourteen.”

“She lived with you?”

“Oh yes. For over a year.” Lee’s brows contracted. “You didn’t know this? But you’ve been here all your life. Nobody ever mentioned it?”

“Well,” Judy was embarrassed. “You know, we traveled a lot. Dad was always taking us on trips Mainland.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.” Lee cocked her head and Judy wished she could read her eyes behind those glasses. “You’re excited about living there, aren’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Where exactly did you go on these visits?”

“Oh, to DC of course. And New York City, and Philadelphia, and Boston too, so I’ve been there before. Oh and Chicago once. That was wonderful… and…” She almost said Los Angeles and San Francisco, but stopped herself just in time. “All kinds of places,” she concluded.

“Not the south. Nowhere in the south.”

“No… We could have, though.”

Cousin Lee looked at her quietly for a moment.

“Why do you think that is?” she asked.

“I guess it just never came up.”

“Judy,” Lee took off her glasses, and Judy could see that her eyes were sad.

“Bill never took you there because he loves you and he didn’t want certain issues to come up. And he was taking a risk even traveling with you in the north. That’s what I want to talk to you about. I’m going to tell you what made me decide to move us all back here. It was a lot of things, but there was an incident that finally broke the camel’s back.”

“For my last birthday, my father wanted to give me a treat. He loves the Mainland, you know. Loves traveling about, visiting places, getting to know them. There was a restaurant he’d heard about, a place a friend had recommended. I’m not gong to say where it was. Let’s just say it was north of the Mason Dixon line, and Papa was wild about what he’d heard, said he wanted us to discover it together for my birthday. So, of course, I agreed.”

“He’d made our reservations over the phone, and we got there in good time. It didn’t look too crowded.”

“Papa… You don’t know him well. You haven’t had a chance to. He’s such a lovely, dear man, Judy, gets these enthusiasms and wants me to share them. We stood there in the waiting area, and he told me all about how they served food with real flavor, “not the bland stuff you usually get Mainland,” he said, and he was looking at me the way a father looks at his daughter, like he was bursting with pride, like my middle-aged horse-faced self was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he was excited about showing me off.

But I was beginning to notice things. Let’s just say I’ve lived Mainland long enough to get a sense of a room.

I’ve had to.

People were looking at us. People were looking at me.

Papa didn’t notice. He was too happy about having a night out with me, with showing me he could still give me something special. And over his shoulder I could see the two hostesses talking quietly, looking at us as if they were trying to decide what to do.

One of them began walking towards us. I had to think quickly.

As soon as she was close enough, I began speaking to Papa in French.

She stopped where she was. I saw her smile slightly.

And she walked back to the other, older hostess.

Papa spoke French back to me without missing a beat. We speak that language when we’re together all the time. He likely thought nothing of it. I hoped, I really hoped, the evening was saved.

And then, at exactly the wrong time, just as there was a pause in conversation, the younger hostess said quietly, but not quietly enough to the older one…

“It’s all right. She’s not an American.”

Papa can be naive, but he’s about as far from stupid as anyone I know. He understood as soon as he heard it, and I could see he was very angry.

But most of all, he was hurt and ashamed. He blamed himself. He’d felt brought me to a place where I was at risk. He’d put me in a bad position. That special present of his had just made me feel like an outsider.

“What did you do?” asked Judy.

“I smiled at him and I said, ‘you know, Papa, there’s a place I’ve heard about I’ve been dying to go, and it’s not far from here at all.’ And that’s where we went. A very nice place owned by friends of mine.” Lee raised her chin proudly. “The food was delicious, and they treated my father like a king.”

Judy wasn’t sure what to say. “I…I’m so sorry Lee, that happened to you.”

Lee shrugged. “It’s not nearly as bad as what some people have faced. Derek and I are well-off. More than well-off, in fact, so things are easier for us. That incident wasn’t the worst by a long shot, but I’m not going to go into that. Let’s just say that after a while, we both felt like we were constantly swimming against the current. It’s exhausting. Judith, have you ever asked why Aunt ‘Sha never went to visit Leon while he was at Tulane? Why I never visited him?”

“I’m not ashamed of my family!” said Judy, with more heat than she’d intended.

“Nor should you be. And I’m not trying to spoil your pleasure in what you’ve accomplished. You go to Boston. You enjoy everything the Mainland has to offer. There are a lot of good, fine people there. But there are also people who will take one look at your brother, and then look very, very hard at you. And they will close doors. ”

“You may have light hair and skin and blue eyes, but as far as they’re concerned, once they know about your family, you’ll be something less than a person. You’ll be coloured. And they can make your life hard, Judy. Very hard. You need to understand this.”

She put on her sunglasses again, and she smiled.

“I’m not telling you this to spoil your pleasure, or to get you not to go. You must go. This is an incredible opportunity.”

“All I’m saying is, you need to know it can get very cold there,” Lee said. “And I’m not talking about the snow.”

***

Kristal did not like these off-Islanders.

One was handsome, but stupid. The other was… Well, certainly not stupid in the conventional sense.

Arrogant to the point of foolishness, that’s what he was, carrying around a veneer of smugness like a coat of slime.

Like her father, Kristal did not suffer fools gladly. In fact, she thought, Papa would have made short work of both in a few pithy and pungent words. But then, Papa had been a fool too, in his own way. Unlike old Amadou, she had some restraint.

“I’m so delighted you both chose to visit our lovely island,” she said. “Though I do wish we’d had more notice. We always like to make sure visitors from DC get to experience the best we have to offer.”

That won her a smile in resturn. She felt as if some nasty cat were arching its back under her hand just before taking a swipe with its claws out. “Believe me, Mayor Abbot, we both look forward to getting to know the place. What we’ve seen so far is very impressive.”

“But I’m sure you realize we’re here on serious business. Very serious business.”

“Business that has to do with the very survival of our country.”

“That’s why I am so glad to see you,” she lied. “There’s no doubt we have subversive elements on this island, elements we have taken steps to contain. I would be so grateful for your input.”

“We’re on a fact-finding mission Madame. I’m sure you’re aware we’ve been investigating certain problems at various VOA stations. Stations like the one you have here.”

“Say…” said the blond. “Is that the stuff I’ve read about, the stuff you sell here? Vinny-something?”

“Vinjoie” she said, her heart sinking. If she’d known they were coming, she would have hidden it. The cloud in the silver of Tel Duday finally dropping dead last year was that nobody else could make it like he did. Her supply was dwindling.

“Help yourself,” she said.

She turned towards the other. ‘Is there an issue with the transmitter?” she asked.

“There may very well be an issue with the content of the broadcasts,” he said. He nodded at her bookshelf. ‘May I take a look?”

“Of course,” she said.

She watched his eyes moving over the spines of her library. Half of them were lawbooks inherited from past mayors, but there were a few history texts, some travel books on the Island, and a few of her historical novels. Was Georgette Heyer on one of McCarthy’s lists? One never knew these days.

“Nothing here jumps out at me,” he said. “You know, Madame Mayor, you can tell an awful lot about someone from their library. Their tastes, their beliefs, their agenda.”

“And what we have found in our investigation of VOA libraries has been alarming, very, very alarming. Communists have burrowed their way into the very fabric of American life and are disseminating their poison, spreading in movies, books, schools, even our civil service.”

“There are times I feel that only a miracle can save us!” he declared.

Oh dear God. The man was vindictive and he was sincere. Kristal understood vindictiveness. She even admired it up to a point. But sincerity made him dangerous. This man was plainly one of those high IQ idiots who turned his personal likes and dislikes into moral crusades.

She was going to have to tread carefully, very carefully. Hopefully she could throw them enough red meat that they would leave without doing too much damage.

“Say, this stuff is really terrific,” said the blond from where he was lounging on the sofa. “You gotta try some of it, Roy.”

“Is this what you’re talking about?” she turned to the shelf and pulled out a title he hadn’t noticed. Kitty had given it to her for Christmas a couple of years ago becuse she’d heard old Roland Schoolmeester recommend it on his radio show, but Kristal had not cared much for it. Too masculine for her taste.

“Yes!” He was obviously pleased. “This commie tripe is excactly what I’m talking about. Where did you get it?”

“I heard about it on our own radio station. Highly recommended. I must say, it alarmed me, given what I heard about Howard Fast, so I brought it here.”

“Are there any more by him in their library?”

“Oh no. I checked.” She smiled. Maybe they’d just concentrate on the books and leave everyone else alone.

“I did see some stuff by Dashiell Hammett, though.”