No. 14

Mrs. Lafayette to Mrs. Quinn (The Key)

Mrs. Quinn

908 E Jefferson

Louisville, Kentucky

July 10, 1940

 Dear Mrs. Quinn,

The fire worked. That very afternoon help came to the farm. A man and his wife drove up and introduced themselves as members of the Presbyterian Church, the one that Julien and the sister belonged to. They took one look at Win’s arm and put her in their car to get her to the hospital in Fowler.

“Some men are coming for the body, this afternoon,” the man said, as he shut his car door.

The men, thank God, finally did come and did not ask me for payment. I signed some paperwork but could not even tell them her name. Suggested to them that a pending tax sale would tell them her name. It was a very unpleasant situation.

I kept the fire going, for I had promised Win that I’d stay. That she should not worry, adding, “I won’t burn the suitcase. I’ll be here when you get back. It will be Ok, Win.”

That night, with me all alone and with me knowing where the money was, well, it was not one for sleeping.

The only way I could keep myself from the temptation was to keep burning things. I decided to burn Julien’s clothes.

In clearing out his closet, I found more money and some wine, but no cigarettes. I went back to the fire with the bottle and read Win’s letters.

They did not make sense to me. She was writing to a man named Stewart and about Stewart’s mother and about a railroad postal clerk. I didn’t care.

As the wine took a leak in my mouth, I didn’t care anymore about Win or her stupid stories. But I found myself not burning them, not wanting to hurt her, thinking that at this hour of my inebriation, Win was getting her arm chopped off.

I dug into Julien’s pockets, looking for anything of value. There was a key. Terrific, I thought, a secret key. Just what I needed, another secret to not tell.

If I wasn’t drunk, I could leave, but see how I was? See how happy I was to be with Win? To wait for her to return? She was something to me at this place.