THE LULA MAY

Choctaw Tribune + Anumpa Warrior flash fiction by Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer

November 1917

Dear Ruth Ann,

I received your letter eight days ago but lacked the fortitude to write you. I am sorry to hear of your mother’s illness preventing you from coming to see me. What I mean is, I am sorry for your mother's illness and the letter was quite sufficient to express your lifetime of love to me in the midst of the grief over losing my son.

I can hardly pen those words. It is only because I bear in mind the grief you have suffered in your life, going back to losing your father at such a tender age.

But oh, Ruth Ann, there is nothing like the experience of losing a child! When one has raised a boy to manhood, you expect to see him live a good life and enjoy his grandchildren someday. The last hope in my heart is that you do not suffer this same grief with your son who is about to ship out to the battlefield.

You mustn't think of all the stories and reports or it will rend you in two.

Your letter did have me in mind of the days of our own youth. How young and innocent and bright the world was then!

I’m recalling that glorious night we visited the Lula May floating dance pavilion on the Kiamichi River. Do you remember it, Ruth Ann? We were hardly in our teens and would never have been allowed to go without our brothers. They were good sports to let us tag along, and how grateful we were for them at the end of the night when someone shouted that the Lula May was sinking. We truly thought we were going to die, didn't we?

Alas. I cannot bring any thought or memory to mind that does not end in death.

Yours truly,

Sissy

Dear Sissy,

How good it was to receive your letter! Mother is doing better, but I am hesitant to leave her side just yet. As soon as I am able, I will come and embrace you with the hug that I promised in my first letter.

Your son's passing does keep fear close to my heart. I will see my son one last time before an ocean separates us. I will hold him close and long. Please pray I will have the courage to let go. My heart never will.

I had nearly forgotten about that night on the Lula May! Of course, I tried to not let it remind me of how Matthew was on the Lusitania when it was struck and sunk by a German U-boat. Instead, I painted the image in my mind of that vibrant night with the natural beauty of the moon reflecting on the river as a thousand diamonds.

What fun it was, even if our brothers were grouchy with having their baby sisters along. They really were good sports and are still the best brothers either of us could wish for as life continues to carry us down its river of unexpected twists and drops.

How well I remember the fear of that night when the pavilion began to sink. But I also remember Pepper’s silliness when he insisted you give him the heirloom necklace you wore, as though he could keep it safer than it was around your neck. Your brother was always looking out for himself in those days. It makes me chuckle now. Thank you for bringing about the fond memories.

Perhaps I will tell my son that story before he leaves and he can remember the days of his mother's youth fondly. Indeed, how different my world was from his with all the nations baring their teeth at one another.

Yours most truly,

Ruth Ann

Dear Ruth Ann,

Oh my. My mother’s heirloom necklace! I had forgotten about that, most likely because I had wanted to since I was so embarrassed when Pepper accused you and Matthew of taking it.

I didn't want to give it to him, of course, but he was so insistent. I'm confident to this day he missed his pocket when he went to stow it for safekeeping and was afraid to admit it. He knew good and well that, though we were huddled together so closely in a group while trying to exit the pavilion, that the Teller siblings were above reproach. I was so angry with him! For losing the necklace but most of all for trying to lay the blame on our dearest friends.

At least I was able to share the blame for the loss with my brother when we returned home and gathered courage to tell Mother that her beautiful piece was gone forever.

Do you remember how lovely it was? Those pearls came from the river of our homelands. It was one of her greatest earthly possessions. But instead of scolding us endlessly, she let Father handle punishment (forbidding us to go dancing for a month). Mother just gathered us in her arms and held us close after we told her the Lula May sank and her necklace was gone. She whispered, “These are my pearls."

That was how my son was to me and oh, thinking of the loss of that necklace pales so in comparison with the loss of him. Forgive me for bringing such grief even to our pleasant memories.

Yours truly,

Sissy

Dearest Sissy,

Trust me, Matthew and I knew Pepper’s reason for the silly accusation, that is why Matthew was willing to return with him as we searched the river for signs of the necklace. I thought Matthew and Pepper were both going to drown themselves with how many times they dove to the bottom, searching for the necklace.

Though Pepper didn't apologize (he never did in those days), he did begrudgingly thank us for our help in looking for the necklace. That was his way of saying he was sorry, and we accepted it.

There is no need to apologize for the thoughts of your son. Know this—I will never tire of your grief.

With all my love,

Ruth Ann

Dearest Ruth Ann,

I cannot express what your recent visit meant to me. I am crying even now, a mixture of joy with the sorrow now.

Having the comfort of your friendship is a great treasure in my life. And I will never part with your gift of the single pearl in the delicate leather pouch you crafted yourself (even if a boat I am on is sinking).

I wear the pearl close to my heart where my son nestled as a babe. It reminds me not of what I lost, but of what remains.

Yours, really and truly,

Sissy

Ruth Ann and Sissy friendship began in book one of the Choctaw Tribune series. This flash fiction takes place years later in the time of WWI and the novel Anumpa Warrior: Choctaw Code Talkers of WWI. Start reading the Choctaw Tribune series here, and Anumpa Warrior here.