Prologue
It
was hot. Too hot to work. The kind of hot that the devil begged for air
conditioning. Too hot to stand still; you had to move to generate a small
breeze but not fast enough to exert a lot on energy. The only place that Kate
could find relief from the delta heat was under a large live oak next to the
river bank. She stretched out on the semi cool grass hoping for a breeze to
come off the river. Days like these in
the deep south were torturous. There was not enough iced sweet tea in the true
southern states to cool down from the sweltering days of summer.
Kate had drifted off
under the live oak. Her mind dreamed.
Dreamed of finer things, exotic vacation spots and porches where rocking
chairs creaked in rhythm to the southern women who sat in them. She loved
southern women. It is what she knew. They were whom she related to as women
from the north to harsh and abrasive for her taste. For her, southern women
were gentle and charming. They were home.
She dreamed of these women. There were three of them sitting on a veranda.
They were dressed in white and ivory linen dresses
with wide brimmed straw hats cocked to one side or the other. They were
chatting about things that one could only imagine. Sweet perfumed perspiration
tickled down their breast bones to vacation spots that only southern dreams are
made of. Perfumed handkerchiefs blotted the perspiration from their rosy
cheeks. They were sweet smelling, coy,
sexing, tantalizing, ambrosial, sensual, delicious, voluptuous, and alluring.
In her dream, she was compelled to walk to that veranda and sit with them. As
she approached, they turned, gave her a quick smile and like a flash of
lighting they were gone. Leaving her with the memory of their faces and the
aroma of their jasmine handkerchiefs.