The week before Halloween, Sunny and Junior sat on the stool together. George Leroy could hardly understand them, they were so excited about their costumes. Their mother had found directions in a library book to make costumes out of boxes, paper bags, and paint. Junior was going to be a dragon. Sunny was going to be a hula girl.
“I’m gonna be scary,” Junior boasted. “Scarier than any of the big ol’ guards here.”
“You think they’re scary?” George Leroy asked.
“They’re big and they got muscles and guns,” Junior nodded.
“You scared to come here, Junior?”
Junior’s eyes narrowed and his chin jutted out. “I ain’t no chicken.”
“Never said you was, boy. You’re only chicken if you let bein’ scared keep you from doin’ what you have to do.”
“Then I ain’t no chicken.”
“Fair enough, son.”
“Then Mama wasn’t chicken about her job,” Junior mused.
“What’s that you say, boy?” George Leroy thought he must have heard wrong.
“I heard her tell her friend Charlene she was scared about getting a job ’cause she hadn’t worked since she was sixteen burnin’ fries at the Dairy Queen. But she went anyway and she’s a real good library lady.”
“Run and tell Mama it’s her turn, kids,” George Leroy said quickly.
Marlene settled on the stool with a steely look in her eye. George Leroy lit into her right away.
“You workin’? At the LIBERRY? Who’s takin’ care of the kids? The house?”
“It’s the school library,” she answered evenly. “The kids help me with the house. I like working at the library. I like paying for groceries with money.”
“You think you’re wearing the pants now, Marlene, just ’cause you got you a job?!” George Leroy’s face was turning a dangerous shade of magenta.
“Just because you don’t want to make anything of yourself doesn’t mean I don’t.” Marlene’s eyes blazed. George Leroy caught a glimpse of the captivating spitfire he’d married ten years before. “For your information,” she continued, “working at the library is making me better in lots of ways. For one thing, I say ‘library’ now, not ‘liberry.’ And for another thing, I’m learning to cook from library books.”
George Leroy snorted.
“I know my cooking was bad, exceptin’ fish.” She tossed her head. “All I needed was a good cookbook, which I got at the library.”

The next week, Sunny tried to get a definitive answer.
“When you comin’ home, Daddy?”
“Like I keep tellin’ you, sugar, I ain’t got a court date,” her father sighed with exasperation.
Sunny, however, was more exasperated than he was. She put her fists on her hips and replied. “You missed the Fourth of July, the play-offs, the first day of school, and Halloween. You’ll prob’ly miss Thanksgiving and it’s going to be real good this year. Mama’s been reading cookbooks and the church is giving us a turkey and fixings. Are you gonna miss Christmas, too?!”
“You’re right about Thanksgiving,” he admitted. “But I’ll be home for Christmas.”
“Promise?”
George Leroy gulped. “I promise.”
As Sunny slipped off the stool and turned to go, George Leroy called to her. “Wait a minute, honey. You all are goin’ to church?”
“Yup,” she replied, and skipped away.

Charmaine never did post bail for Bobby Lee. His mother wouldn’t do it, either. Finally his Uncle Jimmy put up the money. He had been young and in love once himself.
George Leroy’s new cellmate was a punk kid, barely seventeen, in on drug charges.
“Don’t know why you kids do that stuff,” George Leroy grumbled. “There’s better things to do with your time.”
The boy snorted. “Like fishing?”
“Fishin’ don’t mess with your mind.”
“Fishing or dope, we’re both in jail.”
“I told you–I wasn’t fishin'”
“Yeah, and I was holdin’ that dime bag for a friend.”

The blow came the Monday after Thanksgiving. On Sunday the kids had described Marlene’s turkey dinner in mouthwatering detail. It sounded lots better than what George Leroy had had in jail. George Leroy’s lawyer stopped by Monday morning.
“Good news, Mr Marlin. Your trial has been set for January 16th. There’s light at the end of the tunnel!”
George Leroy groaned. “Yeah, it’s the lights of a train that’s gonna throw me right off the tracks!”