RICHARD

I knew once we was married

and crossed the Potomac River back into Virginia,

Sheriff Brooks might get wind,

might come

arrest us.

I thought maybe if we laid low—

real low, kept quiet,

kept to Central Point,

he’d forget about us.

I couldn’t tell Millie.

She was already moody,

what with being pregnant,

dropping out of school, everything.

I knew she was pretty innocent.

Innocence what got her Sidney—sweet Sidney.

Hell, I love her innocence.

We been married all of five weeks.

Took Sheriff just five weeks to find out,

make his move.

Maybe it would’ve been better

I told her.

Jail is a hellhole. Sixteen bunks in it.

Both white men and colored men here—

ain’t no motel.

I wonder where they took Millie.

Won’t let me talk to her.

Grabbed me rough the moment the car stopped.

Gave me a blanket,

shoved me in the cell.

I climbed into an upper bunk,

didn’t sleep.

Eyes wide, wondering what’s next.

Wondering about Millie.

Must’ve dozed, ’cause I was woke

and it was light.

Told me to come front.

My sister Margaret posted bail.

$1,000.

I owe her.

Millie’s still there.

They said if I try to get her out

I go right back in.

They said,

Don’t expect the kinda

party you experienced the first time around.