PROLOGUE

Melanie stumbled toward the double doors of the Ledgehart Convalescence Home. She was so relieved to be there, she sobbed then fell against them. There was no time for rest, however. It wasn't far to the highway where she jumped from Uncle Clem's Oldsmobile, but it seemed like ten miles because of the pain in her sprained ankles. She pulled herself together, glanced back nervously, and opened the doors. He'll follow me. I know he will. He may be coming for me right now. I've got to find Momma before he finds me.
    Inside, the odor of urine and other heavy smells enclosed her. She held her breath for a moment, then limped down the hallway, looking for Evie's room. There it is! Trying to cope with pain in her back now, she limped faster, and pushed open the door. An elderly woman lay under a sheet.
    Momma? Is it you?"
    Melanie stepped closer, but the form didn't move. She leaned across the body and embraced it, turning her mother's face toward her.
    Melanie was shocked. Evie had deteriorated since she last saw her. She was thin and helpless, and looked so old.
    "Momma? " Melanie moved closer. "Can you hear me?"
    Evie gave no response. Her eyes were closed and her mouth gapped open in a hungry way as if she were a little bird waiting on a drop of food from her mother's mouth. Melanie caressed Evie's cool, waxy cheek.
    "Please listen, Momma." Melanie was tender, but urgent too. "Uncle Clem's got me, and he won't bring me to see you! He's mean to me Momma, and I'm not allowed to go to school! He makes me do terrible things, and I can't go back with him. I'd rather die!"
    Melanie felt tears coming up from her throat, and her stomach tightened at the thought of so much to say to a mother who was not conscious enough to listen. She stopped for a moment as tears move up and out, spewing down her face like pressure in a hose that had just burst, or been ripped open unexpectedly. She stepped back from Evie's bed, and grief-stricken, sank into a chair.
    "Who is it?" A sedated voice mumbled a question. Evie's eyes slowly opened and rolled to the side, looking around the room.
    "It's me, Momma, Melanie!" Melanie stumbled back to the bed, and took Evie's hand.
    "Melanie? Is it Melanie?"
    "Yes, Momma." Melanie searched her mother's eyes. "I've come to see you. I need to talk to you."
    "Where y' been, Melanie? I 'aven't seen you or Willes in so long..."
    Melanie was cautious, but gentle. "Momma, don't you remember?"
    "Remember what?" Evie began to sweat and writhe with discomfort. "You tell Willes I said come get me! I can't believe he'd dump me in a place like this an' forget about me!"
    "Momma? Daddy can't come get you." The words were difficult but had to be said.
    "Daddy's dead." Melanie said softly. "Don't you remember?"
    Evie listened to the words and then dismissed them. Her eyes grew vacant. Her face blenched, as Melanie's heart pounded.
    "Momma! Don't go away from me! Please! I know this is hard, but you've got to try and remember! Listen to me. I can take care of you! We can be happy together. Clem'll come for me soon and this may be our only chance. He's gonna sell our house, Momma, and if he does, we won't have any place to live!"
    "Oh Lord God Almighty," Evie muttered incoherently. "I'm so sick and I've just had a baby and ain't got no man now t' help me raise it."
    An aide in a white uniform walked in. Melanie wiped tears from her eyes and stepped aside.
    "Sit up, Evie," the nurse said. "It's time for your medication."
    Melanie watched nervously as the nurse slid a hand behind Evie's back and raised her. "What are you giving her? Is it a tranquilizer?"
    "Yes."
    "Why?" The frustration in Melanie's soul caused her whole body to contort. "Can't you see she's sedated enough already?"
    "Who are you?" The nurse's eyes were inflexible as she looked at Melanie.
    "I'm her daughter, and I don't want you to give her those drugs! All her life it's been one pill after another -- because of them I don't even know her!"
    "Now, listen, Miss McEuen," the nurse was overbearing. "I don't know where you've been these past six months, but it's obvious you don't know anything about your mother's situation. She has a mental problem, and she has to have medication."
    "No! There's nothing wrong with Momma's mind. She's just been through so much trouble."
    "Suit yourself." The nurse turned back to Evie. "I have a job to do."
    "But drugs don't help her! They never did. They just take her away from me." Melanie's throat tightened and she moved her lips but no more words would come.
    The nurse pushed the pill into Evie's throat, then glanced over her shoulder. "I'm not the one you should talk to. If you have a complaint, take it up with your mother's doctor. I don't make the rules, I just do my job." She poured water into Evie's mouth, massaged her throat, and then walked briskly out of the room.
    Melanie looked at Evie helplessly. Soon the medicine will work, and she'll be unconscious again....
    "Momma, please listen. We could be happy together. Please get up! Come home! I can sneak you outta here Momma. We can make it!"
    Evie stared at the ceiling. "Tell Willes to go get Momma," she mumbled. "I've just had this baby, and I'm gonna need some help." The words slurred, and her eyes went out of focus.
    "No, Momma!" Melanie cried. "You don't have a baby now. I'm that baby! I'm seventeen!" Melanie pointed to her self. "Don't you remember? " It's 1967, Daddy's dead, and it' just you and me now!"
    Evie's eyes closed.
    "No Momma! Don't go!"
    When there was no response, Melanie stepped back bitterly. She accidentally bumped her head against the door to Evie's room, but being so upset she scarcely noticed the pain. Before the door, the blow in her mind was already aching, throbbing, and causing whatever determination she had left inside, to go numb. She limped down the hall and out a side door into the night. When the cold evening air hit her thin body, she shivered.
    "I'm gonna die!" She mumbled half consciously. "I don't want to, but I'm gonna have to!" The steps of her feet felt like the thud of a huge drum, beating, stoically, repeatedly. Melanie felt herself breathing in and out of mindfulness. Quickly came the breaths, and they were coming far too quickly for Melanie to stay present. She reeled as the wind of a passing car brushed past and blinded her and blew its loud horn in her ears.
    I can't live and I can't grow up like this! If I die, I'll go to Hell. The preacher warned about Hell. Oh, God, I can't live, and I can't die!
    Her head was pounding. She stumbled down the highway as panic set in. As quickly as it came, dizziness swept through her, and she fell deep into darkness, until all thoughts were extinguished.

CHAPTER ONE

What happened to October? Evie McEuen's melancholy brown eyes stared out the window. October used to be my favorite time of year, full of dreams and reflections. It broke the pattern of my life with parties and masquerades. It was exciting to be something or someone else, even for a single evening. It's been so long since I felt that magic.
    She propped herself on one elbow and studied the scene outside. Where is the color? Everything looks so drab! All I see is shades of gray -- the sky, the clouds, the ground, even the leaves.
    Her eyes desperately surveyed the surroundings for a hint of the October she loved, but she saw nothing but grays -- the color of her heart, and now the color of October.
    The doctor's voice interrupted her thoughts as he buoyantly entered the room. "Well, Evie, you've got yourself a healthy baby girl."
    Evie stared at the gray-haired doctor in surprise. Although he was of country stock like her, she felt uncomfortable around him. She lowered her eyes and sat up, trying to find the right words.
    "Ain't I a sight?" she blurted. "Having a baby at my age? She'll be callin' me Grandma instead of Momma."
    "Forty years isn't old, Evie. You'll be a good mother, don't worry. Are you feeling all right this morning?"
    "Oh, pretty fair, I guess," she replied meekly.
    "I just came from the nursery, and your baby's doing fine." He looked at her expectantly. "I thought you two might be ready to go home today."
    "Well...." Evie's eyes questioned the doctor's self-confidence. "I guess we are, but this mornin' when I went and looked at the baby, her color didn't look good to me. Yesterday, the nurses put her under some kind o' light. Wouldn't tell me why."
    "Don't you worry about a thing, Evie." The doctor moved toward the door. "You just bring her back to see me in a couple of days, and I think she'll be fine."
    "But...." Evie opened her mouth to say more, but he was gone.
    Frustrated, she lay in the sterile, stiff bed and listened to the doctor's voice echo down the hall. He 'thinks' she'll be fine? Seems to me that a doctor ought to know for sure. Her eyes moved from the doorway to stare vacantly at the walls. He doesn't have my baby's best interests in mind, and he doesn't have time to listen to me. He's just tryin' to make the next buck. She shook her head in frustration. Pregnant at forty...startin' this hard work all over again. She raised her eyes to the ceiling and grumbled, "Why, Lord, would y' put me through this? I'm too old t' be a Momma. The last thing I wanted was a kid to worry about."
    She slid her feet off the bed. Shuffling across the room to the lavatory, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Sunken, prosaic eyes stared back at her with a glint of self-pity. For months, she'd dreaded the thought of becoming a mother, but now it had begun. She would take the baby home today, and she felt frightened and overwhelmed. Maybe I would have given up, she thought as she touched the tiny wrinkles around her lips, but now I can't. I have to hang on a little longer for the baby, if not for myself. A look of stern reality covered her face, and she lowered her hand. Someone has to take care of this baby, and the responsibility's mine.
    She turned cold water on and splashed it on her face. "Get ready, ol' girl," she quipped as she dried her forehead. "You've got eighteen years o' work cut out for you...eighteen more years o' pain and aggravation!"
    She walked to the metal closet and took out a dress. As she dressed, she noticed how small her body felt -- her stomach seemed so flat. I guess now I'll look sexy. She brushed the tangles from her thin, brown hair and felt nauseous. She laid the brush aside and modestly fastened the top button on her dress. Sexy! That's the last thing I want!
    "I don't need no men lookin' at me." She slipped on her shoes. "I got one man, and I don't ever want another! Now it's time to get back to 'im, waitin' on 'im hand and foot...time to let 'im ride me and use me again."
    She took a deep breath, walked to the telephone, and dialed a number. She waited nervously for Willes' voice.
    "Willes?" She buttoned her cuffs as she talked. "I guess y' can come get me. The doctor says me and the baby's released." As she listened to his reply, her face clouded.
    "Now, you listen t' me," she interrupted. "I wanna tell y' somethin' the doctor said about the baby so you'll know t' expect it. I got to bring her back for a checkup in two days, so don't pitch a fit when the time comes."
    The receiver buzzed.
    "Well, the baby's complexion's yeller lookin'," she answered. "I'll tell you right now, I'm more than a little worried. Nobody here won't tell me nothin'."
    As a nurse entered the room, Evie said, "I gotta go now. A nurse just came in, and I wanna ask her more about the baby. I'll see y' when y' get here." She hung up.
    "Don't worry, Mrs. McEuen," the nurse said. "It's sometimes normal for babies to have a yellow complexion after birth. Make sure she gets plenty of fluids, and in a couple of days bring her back to Doctor Ayres for a jaundice test."
    "Jaundice!" Evie's voice shook. "What do you mean, jaundice?"
    "It's not serious, Mrs. McEuen," the nurse said quickly. "Doctor Ayres has already checked..."
    "Not serious?" Evie interrupted. "I don't wanna take my baby home if she has yeller jaundice! People die from that -- my baby needs t' be in the hospital if she's sick." She swallowed. "You don't understand. I didn't want this baby because o' my age...."
    "What's all this panic, Mrs. McEuen?" The head nurse brusquely entered the room.  
    Evie felt the nurses were closing in on her. She felt she couldn't breathe. Is this God's way of punishing me for not wanting the baby? Is God going to take my baby away? Evie pointed a shaking finger at the first nurse. "You come in here and tell me my baby's got yeller jaundice and then tell me you're gonna send her home on me to die?"
    "I never said that, Mrs. McEuen!" The nurse was offended. She stared at Evie and then at the head nurse. The two nurses exchanged glances, then looked at Evie with irritation. Their condescension made Evie feel inferior.
    "Now listen, Mrs. McEuen," the head nurse said abruptly. "No one said your baby's dying, or even that she's ill."
    "You think I'm ignorant, don't you?" Evie burst into tears. "Well, I may be, but that's because people like you keep me this way. If you think I'm too ignorant t' know about babies, you're wrong! I may not know everything, but I'm a Good Mother, and I care about my baby's health when nobody else does. I love my baby, and I'll make a Good Mother!"
    The head nurse frowned, then left the room.
    "Listen, Mrs. McEuen," the remaining nurse said impatiently. "You're being childish. No one said you were a bad mother, so stop overreacting, and do what the doctor says. Your baby will be fine."
    "Just go on!" Evie whimpered. "I'll take my baby some where the doctors and nurse'll listen t' me!" The nurse stared at Evie in disbelief, then walked out the door.
    Evie stood beside her bed until she calmed herself. Why can't I communicate with people? Am I so ignorant no one'll listen to me?
    She shook with fear. She opened the metal closet, took out her suitcase, and laid it on the bed. She had to pack and leave. Now that the nurses are angry with me, they certainly won't listen -- they might even do something to hurt the baby and me.
    Please, God, she prayed as she packed, don't let my baby get sick 'n die. I love my baby. You know I do!
    "Excuse me, Mrs. McEuen," said a voice behind her. Evie turned and saw a tall woman carrying a clipboard. "Have you decided on a name yet? I need a name for the hospital records before you can take the baby home."
    Evie was too emotional to speak. She tried to regain her composure when suddenly a deep voice came from outside the doorway.
    "Name her Melanie."