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Winnie’s Notebook
- University of Georgia Press
- Chapter
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Winnie’sNotebook july25,1898 Inthedream,thejunctioncouldbeamuraloramirage.The skyisanimprobablelarkspurblue;thestationhouseresemblesa cuckooclockthatIhadasachildandbelievedwashaunted.Bystanders appearinanimateuntilaturbanedwomanthecolorof afinepianoglidestowardmewithabasketofpeaches.Murmuring intherichtimbreofherrace,sheplacesapieceofherfruit inmyhand;IfeelasthoughIhavereceivedablessing.Nowshe’s somedistanceaway,standingguardoveralongwoodenbox,and Iamlyingonthegroundwithmyeyessealedshut.Aboveme,in thepatoisofthedeeplyruralSouth,adialoguecommences: “Lordamercy,poorthingjustfoldedlikeafan.” “She’snopoorthing.ThisisWinnieDavis,theDaughterofthe Confederacy.She’salsothedaughterofthemanwhowasresponsible forourtroubles.” “Shouldn’theapalltheblameonJeffersonDavis.Somesayif notforhim,we’dhavelosttheWarsoonerthanwedid—” “—inwhichcasetherewouldhavebeenlessbloodshedand poverty.Lookslikeshe’sstillbreathing.Maybealittleslapwill bringheraround—” 2 devotion Theslapopensmyeyesandgetsmetoasittingposition.Iam relievedtofindthescratchybombazineskirthasnotrisenhigher thanmyankles. Theconductorasksthesetwo,whosedough-coloredfacesare almosthiddenbysunbonnetbrims,toescortmebacktothecar. ThemorecontentiousoneaskswhichsideI’mon.“Thereare nosidestoacircle,”IsayasIgiveeachofthemasmallpasteboard rectangleimprintedwithmynameand“TheDaughter oftheConfederacy”beneathmyhalf-facedlikeness.Theystare suspiciouslyatthephotographs,asthoughIamtryingtodeceive them....They’releftbehind,buttheirmagpiethoughtsfollow meontothetrain:TheSouthlaysclaimtoWinnieDavis,yetshehas chosentoliveintheNorth....Peoplebowandscrapetoher,butherface isoverrunwithsadness....Sheoughttothankherluckystarsshedoesn’t havetohoeandplow. Therockyredterraingiveswaytoagrass-coveredslopebeside aglisteningriver.Attheforefrontofagroupofmourners,my swooningmother,drapedinblackchiffonlikethemirrorsina houseofdeath,isflankedbyMaggieandKate,bothinseverebut stylishmourninggarb.Fredstandsapartfromeveryoneelse.Asa breezebecomesmyhandandruffleshishair,helooksasthough heseesanapparition.Nowtheyareinthepast,andIambeing hurtledalone,toGodknowswhere.... Thetall,thinconductorstoopstoadmonishmeinastern, stentorianvoice:“MissDavis,you’vealongwaytogo,andwe’re notoutofGeorgiayet.Ican’tbewatchingeverytimewepauseat awhistle-stoptomakesureyou’renotleftbehind.” IgivehimmywordIwillnotgetoffagainuntilwearriveatmy destination.OrmaybeIsay“mydestiny.”WhennextIseethe man,Iamfullyconscious,andheisshorter,moresolid,andless [44.206.248.122] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 11:50 GMT) winnie’snotebook 3 formidablethanhisDoppelgänger.Thetrainshakesasthoughit willflyapartatanysecond,butitisreassuringtoknowweareon therighttrack,headedNorth(intheSouth,theEastiscalledthe North),andmovingalongatasteadyclip. Ihavealmostdriftedoffagainwhenhecoughstogetmyattention .“Ma’am,Inoticedyoudeclinedtogotothediningcar earlier,yetyoudevouredapeachbackthereasthoughyourlife dependedonit.Areyoufeelingbetternow?” “Yes.Thankyouforyourconcern.”I’mawareofafilmofdried nectaronmymouthandchin.“Ican’trecallwhetherIpaidfor thatpeach.Didyouhappentonotice—?” “Iheardthewomansayitwasagift.Shealsosaidthetimehas comeforyoutoforgiveanybodyyouneedto,includingyourself .”Hisforeheadcreaseswiththeburdenofwonderingwhyhe feltobligedtorelay...