Page 39 of Lula Dean's Little Library of Banned Book
Out of the mouth of babes came the truth. Pure and simple and unmistakable. “Okay, honey,” Betsy promised him. “I’ll read it.”
Elijah’s face lit up with a joy so pure it had to be heavenly. That’s when Betsy began to wonder if maybe the Lord wasn’t sending a message. Then Elijah told her where he’d found the book, and she almost dropped to her knees. “God talks to people all the time,” Betsy’s father used to say, “but most of us never listen.” This time, Betsy heard him loud and clear.
It had been a good five years since Betsy and Lula had exchanged more than a brief hello as they passed each other in the grocery store. Lula quit work at the florist after her husband died unexpectedly and the insurance made her rich. Before that, she and Betsy had worked side by side for almost fifteen years. Lula had hated every minute of it. She felt the work was beneath her and wasn’t afraid to say so. Betsy had to ask Jesus for patience whenever Lula rambled on about the Lambert mill—or talked about how much respect she had for “you folks.” Both subjects came up almost daily.
Mostly, though, she felt sorry for Lula, who kept careful track of where everyone stood on the town’s social ladder. When they lost the mill, her family had slipped several rungs, and Lula spent most of her waking hours trying to work her way back up. Lula didn’t consider her coworker competition, and Betsy had no desire to play the white women’s game. But that didn’t make it any less fascinating to hear Lula’s tales of treachery, betrayal, and backhanded compliments. The ladies of Troy had devised a secret language just to put one another down. You could insult someone’s whole family by bringing the wrong dish to a potluck. They used words likeniceandsweetas their daggers and would stab you right in the heart with acute. And heaven forbid anyone ever said youmean well.
Lula knew the language, and she was a talented storyteller. Betsy told her as much, though she was convinced Lula’s flair for drama could have been put to much better use. The tales Lula told always left her agitated or enraged or somewhere in between. For reasons that remained shrouded in mystery, Lula was obsessed with Beverly Underwood. None of it made sense to Betsy. Here was a woman who had a kind husband, a comfortable home, and two children she adored. Lula had everything she needed to be blissfully happy. Instead, she insisted on taking part in a game that made her life miserable. It never occurred to her that she did not have to play.
After Lula’s husband died, Lord knows what might have become of her if it hadn’t been for the twins. Taylor and Talia were babies when Lula came to work at the florist shop, and Betsy got to know them both over the years. They were pretty little things—so well-behaved and polite. Lula was right to be proud of them. Her devotion to those children was a marvel to behold. She often arrived at work exhausted, having worked half the night making them the beautiful clothes she couldn’t afford but thought they deserved. Whenever one of the twins starred in a school play or musical, Lula would tape a poster in the florist’s front window and pass out flyers to anyone who stopped by. She devoted her weekends to the pageant circuit, and crafted extravagant costumes to distract the judges from Talia’s stage fright.
Then, the day they graduated from high school, Lula’s children up and vanished. Betsy saw Lula at the Piggly Wiggly later that summer and noticed how much she’d changed. She was still a young woman, but it was like the life had gone out of her. She told Betsy the twins were at Ole Miss and left it at that. She didn’t brag about their grades, accomplishments, or countless charms. Later, Betsy heard she’d been telling people they were both at Tulane. Now she claimed the twins were living in Birmingham, “doing the Lord’s work.” Whateverthatmeant. But one thing was for certain. In the years since they’d been gone, neither one of Lula’s childrenhad paid their mother a visit. And in those years, Lula Dean had lost her mind.
Betsy understood. Lula was all alone. Few knew how her husband’s death had shaken her. All they saw was the money. People whispered she’d killed him, and Betsy couldn’t imagine how much that hurt. Lula must have known then that no matter how hard she tried, they’d never let her fit in. When her kids skipped town, it probably felt like she had nothing left. There she was, all by herself in that frilly pink house, with no one to give her the attention she coveted or the respect she desired. So she did whatever it took to get it.
Lula spent two weeks in front of the rec center informing parents that yoga could turn their babies Hindu. She wrote passionate Facebook posts complaining about the pornographic swimsuits being worn to the local pool. She bought three boxes of Samoas from a Girl Scout troop in Jackson Square—then called 911 to complain they were running a business on public property. Her behavior made Lula a local joke. Most folks went out of their way to avoid her. People who knew Talia and Taylor claimed she’d driven them nuts. Then Lula had found a book filled with dirty cakes—and with it came all the attention she’d ever craved.
When Betsy tookRivals and Loversback, she’d planned to pay Lula a visit. She wished she’d done so years ago. Maybe she could have worked the conversation around to Taylor and Talia. See if she could find out if there was anything she could do. That woman needed her children just as much as Betsy needed hers. Then Lula had to go and plan a rally for Augustus Wainwright.
“Passed your boy on Main Street a few minutes ago.”
Betsy opened her eyes to see Delvin Crump coming toward her. He nodded at the statue. “Suppose I’ll be seeing you and James here at the rally this evening?”
“Excuse me?” Her husband had known Delvin Crump since gradeschool. Despite their political differences, they’d always been friends. Betsy had assumed Delvin was solid. But the postman was clearly on drugs. “You’re going to celebrate this town’s Confederate heroes?”
Delvin’s forehead furrowed like she’d just spoken gibberish. “I’d rather eat glass than celebrate the Confederacy. I want to see what Isaac has planned.”
Betsy pressed one hand to her heart. “MyIsaac?”
Delvin reached into his postal bag and pulled out a flyer, which he passed to Betsy.
join us in jackson square at 6 p.m.
and learn the truth about
troy’s confederate hero
Betsy stared at the piece of paper.The truth about Troy’s Confederate hero. Dear Lord, she asked herself, what has Isaac discovered?
“Isaac and Bella Cummings were passing them out. You didn’t know?”
“All I know is that Cummings girl has Isaac putting himself in harm’s way and Elijah swooning like a lovesick fool. She’s trouble for both my boys, that one.”
“So I’m guessing the protest didn’t get your stamp of approval,” Delvin noted.
“Isaac should know better. If there’s a price to pay, he’s the one who’ll be paying it. That pretty little prom queen’s got nothing to lose. Nobody’s going to shootheror drivehercar off the road. Things are different for Isaac. Those men hunted down Ahmaud Arbery, and all he did was set foot on a building site.Hedidn’t demand they pull down a statue. Imagine what they’ll do to protect their damn heroes.”
Delvin wasn’t smiling after that. He knew every word she said was true. “I don’t think the protest was Bella’s idea.”
“Probably not.” Betsy knew she’d been uncharitable. “That boy gets more like his granddaddy every day.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m grateful. That statue needs to be sent straight to the scrapyard, and Isaac is brave for saying what needs to be said. You and James did a wonderful job bringing that boy up. I’m happy to help y’all watch out for him.”
The jury was still out on her parenting, but Delvin was right about Isaac. If only the world would see him the way she did. “You know he’s gay, don’t you?” She hadn’t meant to say it. The words just slipped out. She whispered it like a secret, even though the whole town must have heard.
Betsy was shocked to see the postman shrug like it meant nothing. “That’s what they’re saying, but I’m not sure why it should make any difference,” Delvin said. “Books are being banned in this town. Nazis are hiding in basements. Lula Dean is running for mayor, and folks are worried about kids being gay?”
“The pastor says Isaac’s soul is in jeopardy.”
