Prayers and Lies by Sherri Wood Emmons

little black-and-white television Ray and Loreen had given Jolene for Christmas. At the first commercial break, we looked up to see Jolene standing in the doorway. I started in surprise. She didn’t look like herself at all. I recognized her short pink robe, but her face looked years older than it had at Thanksgiving. Her skin was blotchy, and dark bags hung beneath her puffy eyes. Her beautiful red hair hung in limp, dirty ringlets. She leaned heavily against the door frame.
    Reana Mae jumped up and ran to support her as Mother rose, saying, “Jolene, honey, I’m so glad you’re up. Here, sit on the couch and I’ll get you some tea.”
    Jolene smiled wanly at Mother as she draped her arm over Reana Mae’s shoulders. She walked slowly to the couch, then sank down beside where I sat. “Hey, Bethany,” she said to me. “How you doing?” She leaned over and kissed my cheek.
    “Fine, Jolene. I’m just fine.”
    She patted my cheek, but her eyes were on the television. “What’re they saying today?” she asked Mother, who returned from the kitchen with a mug of steaming water, a tea bag dangling down its side.
    “More war news, I’m sorry to say,” Mother replied.
    “I still can’t understand what it’s all about,” Jolene said, “but I’m surely glad Bobby Lee ain’t over there.”
    We sat silently until the news was done. Then Jolene returned to bed, leaning on Reana Mae again. Soon after, Mother and I walked back to Aunt Belle’s.
    “What’s wrong with her, Mama?” I asked. “Is she gonna be okay?”
    “Yes, honey, she’ll be okay.”
    “She looks so sickly.”
    “Well, Jolene’s had a big loss, and she took a mighty hard fall, too. I think her body has mostly recovered, but her spirit hasn’t. That’s going to take a while. She’ll be all right once Bobby Lee comes home.”
    I stared down at the road. “Reana Mae said they fought about Caleb before he left.”
    “Yes, Jolene told me. But I’m sure that will pass, too.” She paused a moment, then squeezed my hand. “People say all kinds of things they don’t mean when they’re grieving, Bethy. Bobby Lee and Jolene are both grieving hard. But they need each other to get past the grieving. Once they realize that, they’ll be okay.”
    By that time, we were at Aunt Belle’s front steps. “You just be an extra-good friend to Reana Mae, okay? She really needs a friend right now.”
    I nodded, and we went inside to a barrage of questions and solicitude from Belle.
    I lay awake that night watching clouds drift across the night sky, now hiding the moon, now sweeping away. The river below was as black as the coal it hid. When the clouds cleared, the river seemed to come alive—shiny black currents sweeping southward in a never-ending, always-changing pattern. Then the moon would disappear and the water’s surface became matte black again, the patterns disappearing in the night. It was mesmerizing and a little scary. I’d never slept alone in the attic room before. The shadows seemed longer and darker than I remembered. The light from the hallway far below barely edged into the corner of the room by the stairway.
    I stared longingly at the empty bed—the despised road-facing window bed—its neatly made covers hanging down, concealing … what? Had the rocker moved? I rubbed my eyes, staring into the darkness. Wind creaked in the eaves. I was afraid to move, afraid to call out for Mother. Was that a thump on the roof?
    I crept from the bed and padded down the curved stairway, toward light and Mother and safety. I ran down the long hallway, and then down the steps toward the entry hall. I stopped on the landing, hearing Mother and Aunt Belle in the front room. Would they be upset with me for getting out of bed? I hesitated on the landing, listening.
    “But why would Ray tell Bobby Lee something like that?” I heard Mother ask.
    “Because it’s true,” Belle said. “It’s true, and Bobby had a right to know.”
    “Oh, Belle, not