Dear Virgil

By JoAnne Soper-Cook

Two men: one white, one black; one in the North and one in the South. Their correspondence reveals secrets that could damn them both but what really happened one hot night in Mississippi?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JoAnne Soper-Cook
• Release date: Jul 6, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476330402

JoAnne Soper-Cook

JoAnne Soper-Cook was born in Old Perlican, Newfoundland and grew up in Hant's Harbour. She published her first story at the age of 8 when her mother, impressed with the quality of a short story she'd written for a school project, sent it in to a local newspaper. Since then she has written novels, novellas, short stories, plays, speeches, radio scripts and some really, really bad poetry. She holds a B.A. (Honors) and an M.A. in English Literature from Memorial University and a B.Ed, also from Memorial. When she isn't writing she teaches Communications and Creative Writing at the College of the North Atlantic.

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DEAR VIRGIL

By

JoAnne Soper-Cook

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

JoAnne Soper-Cook on Smashwords

Dear Virgil

Copyright © 2012 by JoAnne Soper-Cook

Thank you for downloading this free eBook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form, with the exception of quotes used in reviews.

Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Adult Reading Material

*****

I would like to thank Carla Moretti for her unfailing kindness and support and her encouragement for this project. I’d also like to thank Jennifer LeClaire and Anne Sharp, whose enthusiasm for these characters drove me to write this novella.

DEAR VIRGIL

October 25

Dear Virgil,

I suppose you may think it strange to receive a letter from me but I don’t have anybody else to talk to so I figured I might as well talk to you. Things have changed since you left. You have probably heard that, well, I don’t got a job no more. I been clearing out my house and getting ready to put it on the market. I don’t rightly know if it’s gonna sell or not. Things ain’t too good around these parts but I suppose, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, somebody might want it.

I got enough saved up to live on till I find something else. Don’t know when that will be or if there’s even anything in my area of expertise, such as it is. I thought about coming up North but, well, you know what they say about old dogs and new tricks and I reckon I am just far too set in my ways to learn something new at this stage of my life. It’s a funny thing, you know: people look at me and they think I’m a lot older than what I am. You know, Virgil, I am forty-four years old. I say that to myself sometimes because I don’t even believe it. I catch sight of myself in the mirror in the morning when I’m shaving and I look at myself and see the gray hairs and the lines under my eyes and I think how the hell did I get so old? I try and think back and I don’t remember a time when I was ever young. You ever get that feeling, like you been here forever and you about a million years old, and there’s nothing you gonna see that can shock you because you seen it all? Yeah, I suppose you know what that’s like. I ain’t gotta tell you nothing about it.

The girl that we were concerned with when you were here – I don’t believe I need to mention her name and I would rather not, seeing as how you never really know how many pairs of hands a letter might pass through – well she done took herself up to Biloxi and had that baby as far as I know. Well, you know what happened to him. Last I heard he was in the death house. It looks pretty certain he’s gonna get the chair unless his sentence is commuted or the governor sees fit to pardon him and I don’t see that as very likely. Especially considering that the man he killed was so very, very important. Funny thing is, I got a letter in the mail from him about a week or so after they took him away. It didn’t say too much, only that he didn’t blame either of us, me or you, that maybe it was his own fault, and he repeated the same thing he said that night, ‘I didn’t mean to kill him’.

They went ahead with all their plans. The foundations for the new building went up last week. Don’t rightly know what it’s gonna look like when it’s done but I think if they keep going the way they got started it ought to be okay. It’s a good thing too, because there is just nothing in this town for anybody. Maybe after it’s all said and done the new building is a good thing.

Well, like I said, I got my house on the market and I got all my stuff in boxes, getting ready to just put it somewhere in storage I guess. I was thinking I might take a little vacation for myself seeing as how I got all this time on my hands right now. I suppose if worst was to come to worst I could go back to what I used to do before. I don’t know if I ever mentioned it to you but yeah, I was a prison guard before I got this job and I suppose I might as well go back to that. It’s something I know how to do. You know what I mean? I don’t rightly know but anyway there it is.

I expect it’s starting to get cold where you are. I never was one for the cold, myself. Took a trip to Delaware a few years ago and that was in December. I just about froze myself to death. I can’t rightly say whether I liked it or not; I didn’t stay there long enough to find out. Soon as I could get out of there I lit out like my ass was on fire. I guess you could say I was the proverbial fish out of water.

I wasn’t too surprised when they let me go. As you recall, the mayor himself told me it was gonna be kind of hard to keep me in my job. He was right. Soon as the whole business was done, soon as the killer was caught, tied up, trussed up, sent away, well, they didn’t have no more use for me. I came home one afternoon and there was a letter in my mailbox. You credit that? He didn’t even do me the delicate courtesy of telling me to my face, no sir. They put a letter in my mailbox, sent through the postal service and everything. He could not even call me on the telephone and say ‘Guess what? We ain’t gonna need you no more.’ No sir, he sent me a letter in the mail. Just a couple lines about how they no longer required my services but it was kind of a slap in the face if you know what I mean.

Anyway that same night after I got the letter, I was just cleaning up my supper dishes and there was a knock on my door. I thought maybe it might be some neighbour kids playing a joke, seeing as how it’s getting close to Halloween and you know what kids are like. I went out and well there was S-. I said Boy, what the hell are you doing here? He never