He did go back once though, and hearing Francie was married to Gil was something good he had thought. A woman should be cared for and have a home. Home, that special word. Jess stretched back and pushed his legs out straight, with a deep breath he stretched out fully. It felt so good. So did looking up at the stars. They were just about all visible now. Coffee was still warm...time to pour some or it would soon be cold, as would soon be the night. The moon hadn�t come around yet. It would soon shed its light, like a giant candle appearing suddenly. He knew it would light up the porch area of the yard as it moved over the house. He knew he would get a full clear view of it and the yard. Light. Yeah, Francie shed a lot of light on the confusing darkness of what that sergeant said: Francie being dead by her own hand and all and then, after a spell, what his friend happened upon in the Galveston newspaper. She was dead all over again but this time by a terrible sickness. He only had memories of their youth...she was just a kid...a �used-to-be-Harper� and now she was a �dead-used-to-be-Harper�.
�So what was I supposed to believe� he questioned out loud, his voice breaking into the still of the night as he remembered the Galveston newspaper, and the army sergeant�s story. He was deep in thought again. What was I supposed to believe, my sister had become some kind of a vague mystery woman, like when the moons hidden by heavy dark clouds...playing a sickening game of hide and go seek. He never did try to play detective the first time. He was told she was dead and just believed. It was easy enough, since he had seen his family die, what else was he supposed to expect. Then news came of her name in that paper and he had to check on it...maybe at least he could pay his respects this time...SURE...buried in the bay, the sheriff wrote him�.
Jess� eyes were closed and they felt moist. He could feel her hand in his, in his mind, as they met again that day, the day he got that note from Mose. He had read it just a few feet away from where he was sitting. Then, when he arrived in town, there she was, a woman in black, up on a wagon...he had ventured closer...it was Francie, and he touched her. She was real and alive. Jess opened his eyes and the moisture rolled down his cheeks ever so slowly and gently.
