Heavy mist drifted up the river driven by a breath of  wind from the south. It was a damp night on the ground and Sammy hoped the last of their camp away from the comfort of a roof and warm bed were over. He missed the early morning feel of his grandmothers quilt and the smell of coffee boiling on the wood stove. He dreaded the thought that the fond comforts would soon disappear forever with their escape from the town. The premonition that his days as a boy and the boyhood conveniences with Gabriel had seen their days lost, and never to be regained.

Sammy stirred as Gabriel wrestled him from a dream. Sammy heard brush crackling as Gabriel moved a short distance from their camp and the unmistakable sound as Gabriel stood and parted his clothing for relief. Sammy stood and stretched to move his bones back into place and sauntered over to stand beside Gabriel. He watched the other boys stream as it arched upward and out. He opened his bibs and matched Gabriel's efforts. Then Gabriel exerted effort to outdo him and Sammy reciprocated until the scene bore the makings of full combat. Both laughed and stood a moment more before slipping back into camp. They moved off to the river and washed up without taking a full swim. It was mutually agreed that with their travels they would have sufficient opportunity for ablutions when they reached Fort Sill. That should be sometime before nightfall they agreed.

"You figure the walk to the turnoff to be what, an hour maybe, or a little bit more?" Gabriel said as they sat on the log munching the last of the food brought the night before.

"I figure we should depart at eight o'clock," Sammy replied.

Gabriel sat in silence as Sammy watched the boy. He could tell there was a fair amount of consternation on Gabriel's mind.

"You get to say a generous farewell to Libby?" Sammy said.

"We hardly had a chance to say anything at all, what with all the goin's on around here last night."

"Well it's up to you to take the upper hand and write that young lady a letter to tell her how you feel, don't it?"

"What do you mean, how I feel, how the hell do you know how I feel?"

"Well don't get riled. I just mean that if you want that little gal, you have to take the bull by the horns and make an effort to let her know that you love her."

Gabriel sputtered and jumped to his feet, walking in small circles in the shaded woods as Sammy watched amused. Gabriel muttered agitated words to himself until he turned to face Sammy.

"What about you? The way you and that missy Molly carried on last night dancing under the stars and all."

"Gabriel, let's get something very clear right now, right here. That Molly Sweeney is just a hurrah girl. She don't mean nothin' at all when she twirls up her skirts. She just knows how to have fun. And it wouldn't matter who was there to jitterbug her. She don't mean nothin' to me, and I don't mean nothin' to her. But you and that there Libby. Wooeee, I can see the church, and the bells, and the ribbons, and the preacher now. I surely can."

"Damn you Sammy. It's just like you to make up somethin' that ain't for real to be happenin'. I don't care a squeak for that Libby Sweeney. Nothin's ever to come of her knowin' me or me her, and that's the end of it."

Sammy smiled big at Gabriel and stayed quiet to let him stew in his misery.

Sammy longed for his friend to find something good with Libby Sweeney. Besides, he would never in life find a girl as good, and that would be the better for him. So Sammy left it there for Gabriel to find his own way. Sammy knew that Libby had set out on her quest. It was Gabriel - and Sammy would wager on her getting what she wanted.

The walk to the turnoff took an hour and a half. The boys sat in the shade of a tall cypress hung with shrouds of gray Spanish moss.

"Where you suppose that moss comes from?" Gabriel said as they sat leaning back against the trunk of the tree.

"It's the cape of the grim reaper and every time he visits someone, part of that moss disappears, never to be seen again."

Gabriel leaned forward and looked back at Sammy. "Now you don't really believe all that hogwash, do ya?"

"Of course I don't. But my grammy told us that when we were little, and I will be tellin' my little ones the same. It's the same as the tooth fairy, someday you have to figure things out for yourself."

"What do you mean. Why of course there's a tooth fairy, don't you know that?"

The boys had a big laugh at Gabriel's gesture of humor. They felt light and both were filled with anticipation at the excitement of the day and what it would bring.

A motor on the road could be heard in the distance. As it neared, the boys adjusted themselves and prepared to walk out to the road.

When it pulled up and stopped at the turnoff, they were surprised to see it was Libby driving the old Model T truck belonging to the newspaper. It was Libby, and no Mr. Drummond to be seen.

Libby sat in the drivers seat as the old tin Lizzie wheezed and bucked in a rough idle as Sammy and Gabriel looked at each other under the tree. When they began to move toward the truck Gabriel hung back until Sammy reached the back of the bed and jumped up to sit with legs dangling. Libby watched as Gabriel stood on the other side of the ditch that skirted the dusty dirt road. Gabriel made no move toward the truck until Libby spoke.

"We don't have all day Mr. Summers. We still have a half hour drive to the crossroads. Isn't that right Samuel?"

Gabriel didn't give Sammy time to answer. "We have more than enough time Miss Sweeney. What I want to know is, why is it you feel necessary to drive all the way to the crossroads from Jefferson by yourself. Don't you know how dangerous it is out here?"

"Well, it may be dangerous for you Gabriel Summers, but Mr. Drummond thought otherwise when he asked me to make the newspaper deliveries considering his other delivery boy was unavailable."

"Delivery ..."

"Will you two please continue this wonderful conversation in the truck so we can make some headway in the right direction?" Sammy said beginning to warm in the mornings rising sun.

Gabriel climbed into the passenger seat and sat back with his arms crossed as Libby released the hand brake and pulled the throttle lever down on the steering column. The old Lizzie coughed twice and jumped as Libby feathered the clutch to get the old truck moving.

"Just where'd you learn to drive an old truck like this?"

"For your information Gabe boy, I did grow up on a farm you know."

The truck followed the rutted road unerringly on it's way to the crossroads. Libby two handed the large wooden steering wheel as it bucked and twisted as a wheel hit a deep rut or hole. She looked straight ahead through the wind screen at the road and it's obstacles as Gabriel occasionally glanced sideways to peek at her red hair blowing free in the wind. And considering her need to work the pedals and stay planted in the seat her legs revealed themselves as the already short hem of her dress moved upward. Gabriel missed none of this and turned around to see if Sammy rode comfortably. As he did, Sammy turned also, with a big smile he acknowledged Gabriel's look and winked.

The road to the crossroads took them eastward, north of the big lake and eastward to intersect eventually with the Louisiana border. They wouldn't go quite that far, but near enough. Bayou's edged up to the road near enough that large white egrets stood on stilted legs in the brackish water fishing. Once an Armadillo scurried across the road in front of the wheels nearly road kill.

Gabriel was comfortable and thought of moving nearer Libby as she fought the unstable old truck. He pondered ways to make it look casual or accidental, but nothing came to him. So he stayed put.

It had been nearly thirty minutes as they approached the stop sign across the highway from the Roadhouse and Motel. Libby slowed the truck and stopped. Then drove across the highway into the dirt parking lot to stop in front of the cafe and honky-tonk.

Sammy and Gabriel stood near the truck as Libby struggled to lift the stack of newspapers from the bed. They watched as she laid the stack on an upturned apple crate: removed the money from the cigar box and dropped the change in her dress pocket.

Libby didn't hesitate to enter the roadhouse without a motion or nod to the boys. They looked at each other, and back to the screen door which led to the dark interior.

Mrs. Rambling stood at her usual place behind the tall wooden bar leaning on elbows. She glanced up as the girl and two boys entered. Libby stepped up to the bar and emptied the contents of her pocket spilling dimes over a large area of the bar. Mrs. Rambling stepped back to watch as Libby began to stack the coins for easier counting.

"You want something to take out the parch Missy?" Mrs. rambling said as she surveyed the girl.

"Just a glass of water if you please," Libby retorted.

"Sure ya wouldn't like something a mite stronger--a pop or sarsaparilla, milk, or Mexican beer?"

"No, water will do just fine thank you."

As Mrs. Rambling turned she spied the two boys leaning against the bar a short distance away. She set a water in front of Libby and turned to Gabriel.

"Why Gabe my boy, how the hell are ya?"

"I'm fine Mrs. Rambling, how ya been yourself?"

"Why, I'm better'n a two peckered billy goat, and who's the strappin' lad with ya?"

"Mrs. Rambling, this here's my best friend in the world, Sammy Oakman."

Mrs. Rambling stepped in front of Sammy and put out her hand. When they shook, Sammy could not remember a man with such a handshake. He immediately liked the woman.

"Any friend of yours, is a friend of all of us out here at the crossroads. You boy's workin' with Missy there deliverin' them papers?"

"No ma'am, we're here to catch the bus to Norman today."

"You joinin' the army?"

"No ma'am, the CCC, the Civilian Conservation Corps."

"Well, good on ya. That bus don't get here for awhile. Why don't ya make yourselves comfortable." Mrs. Rambling said as she waved her head in the direction of three women sitting at a table in a back corner of the roadhouse.

Libby listened to this discourse and harrumphed in Gabriel's direction. Mrs. Rambling looked at Libby and then at Gabriel and winked in Sammy's direction. She waddled over to stand in front of Libby and took the stack of dimes the girl offered. She lowered her voice and whispered loud enough for everyone in the roadhouse to hear.

"If you ever need a job deary, come see me. A looker like you ought to do tolerable well. Especially if you wear somethin' a bit more fittin' instead of them cover'up clothes."

Libby flustered but held her temper as she leaned forward and held out the empty glass. She was conditioned by this kind of talk from her sister, so it had hardly no effect.

"One more water please, and my names not missy or deary. My name is Libby Sweeney, and Mr. Drummond said I would have the pleasure of Mrs. Rambling. Who I suppose is yourself?"

"Well, if that don't beat all. Pretty and scrappy. Damned if you ain't right Miss Sweeney. You do have that pleasure," Mrs. Ramblig said holding out her fat hand.

The two ladies shook hands lady like and there was a mutual understanding bordering on a bond between them. Both welcomed the comradeship. Libby knew they would have no more animosity.

"One of you boys should hope to hook up with a woman like this someday. Doubt either one of you could handle a mustang like this one though."

Mrs. Rambling laughed loud and hard at her quip and turned to the cooler behind the bar and opened two unlabeled brown bottles of beer, setting one in front of Gabriel and Sammy.

"On the house." Was all she said and then turned back in Libby's direction.

"You a Sweeney, huh? You any relation to that store owner over in Jefferson?"

"Yes ma'am, that is my papa, Arthur Sweeney, proprietor."

"D'ya know I opened my own store out here at the crossroads. Got me a fella runnin' it for me. Ain't as big as the store in Jefferson, but we got fair prices for the coloreds who come here instead."

"Yes, I heard of your store. Well that is, I heard of the store. I heard papa talking about it. And what do you mean, fair prices?"

"Why Libby darlin', it ain't no secret your pa's squeezin' the colored's for the land owners. Most of them ole boys are sharecroppin' and loaded under to the company store. That's all I'm sayin'."

Libby stood straight and digested the remarks but refused to let the words rile her. Instead, she sipped water from the dirty glass and looked straight ahead into the large bar mirror.

"Look here little one. I ain't sayin' nothin' that ain't already known for four counties around. I didn't say nothin' to sour our meetin'. I only let ya know why I started the store. That's all."

Mrs. Rambling could see the quizzical look on Libby's face and realized the girl had been shielded from all that she told her. Well maybe it was time she leaned the truth the woman thought. She turned back in Gabriel's direction.

"Gabe boy, go out there and bring me in one of them newspapers. I want to see what that ole rascal newspaperman has to say in the Jimplecute."

She flipped the boy a dime for the paper, and considering the time of day, swung a glass to the bar to be filled with a shot of bourbon. Then she stepped in front of the girl.

"Take this glass Libby darlin'. Take a little sip. This is the best whiskey I sell. I want to show you somethin'."

Libby stood for a long moment starring at the glass and then at the sweating woman. Libby could see the wet stains at the neck of her dress and under her heavy arms. But when she looked into her eyes, there was a softness and firmness that belied her brusque and terrible speech. Libby reached out and took the glass.

"Just a little sip. Just touch your tongue to it."

Libby did. She held the glass up to her mouth and spilled a drop on her tongue. The taste was syrupy sweet, but with a nutty tang and warmth totally unfamiliar to her. Eventually the taste improved as she swallowed, spreading through her pipes moving down to warm even more. Without coaching, she took a larger sip and experienced the full taste of the liquor for the first time in her life.

Mrs. rambling took the glass from Libby's hand. She rolled the brown liquid around the inside of the glass, and in one deft move, downed the entire contents. And then she slammed the glass down hard on the bar.

"Learning something like what you heard me tell you 'bout your pa is like drinkin' that bourbon. The taste is hard to take 'till you give it time to work through your innards. You hafta drink a little more until the bad taste goes away. I's just that different folks have different ways of handlin' their liquor. And some ain't too good at it. But I got a feelin' that you're not one of them. You got to decide how you take what I told ya. Now, let's get you and them boys some breakfast."