Promo: Unspoken by Jann Alexander
Today, I'm delighted to welcome author Jann Alexander to Ruins & Reading. We're sharing an enticing excerpt from her compelling new novel, Unspoken. Do read on!
Unspoken is currently on blog tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club. Find more excerpts, interesting guest posts, fabulous reviews, and more HERE!
Unspoken
1935
RUBY LEE
As the train picked up speed, leaving our tiny corner of the Texas Panhandle, we passed deserted farmhouses where I noted no living thing, not animals nor crops, only wavy sand patterns making mounds of the flat plains. Front doors left wide open, drifts blowing into living rooms.
We passed shacks where dirty children with dull eyes wore rags, turning their heads with effort to watch our train rumble by. But what little life I saw outside was more than was inside my heart.
I felt chilled, then feverish, then weak. Leaning against Will’s shoulder, I drifted in and out to the rhythmic rocking of the train.
“Let’s get some sleep, Ruby,” he said, and soon he was snoring gently with his newsboy cap pulled over his eyes. But try as I might to keep them shut, my eyelids kept flying wide open, waiting for the duster to give way to dawn, looking for the daylight that would shine on what my future held.
The hissing, clanging steam locomotive roared awake, and us with it. Looked
close to daybreak.
“You hungry?” Will reached into his pack for two apples. We bit into them in crunchy unison. I looked at the travelers and saw none of our family. My mind was foggy from sleep. I worked at assembling the events of the last weeks into some kind of order but only one thing screamed at me, shattering beneath my skin, paining my soul raw.
What had I done to make Momma so mad? Did she blame me for baby Nell?
I didn’t realize I’d let go of my apple till I heard its dull thud on the floor. As it rolled down the aisle and passengers’ heads swiveled to look, I shivered—like a blanket of snow had been thrown over me. Views from the windows swirled past, flashing dizzying turns of dead crops and cracked brown fields and scrawny cattle. I sucked in quick shallow breaths but weakness made me slump toward the wall.
Will grasped my hands and rubbed them in his own. Everything blurred. I saw how Momma’s eyes were hard on mine when Nell’s spittle came up brown as dirt, and she choked her last breath on earth.
“Ruby, Ruby,” Will was saying, his hand on my forehead. “You’re so clammy.”
The concern creasing his brow turned into Momma’s frown. She knew.
It was my fault Nell passed.
Will’s warm hands were under my arms, lifting me upright. I must have fainted.
He patted my cheeks, gentle, and my eyelids fluttered into the present, the
place where I didn’t want to be. I batted his hands away. I muttered, “Leave me
alone.” Like Momma did.
It made no never mind what happened to me next. I refused to ask, I wouldn’t speak. In my ten-year-old mind, that was the only control I had.
At the Waco depot, riders made ready to disembark. Will, holding my suitcase, reached for my hand. My toes tingled first, then my legs went numb on me, and my heart pounded. Little pins jabbed me all over. Will tugged on my hand. He didn’t know how terrified I was.
I was lightheaded, everything was spinning, and my legs were powerless. I broke out in a sweat. A breeze blew in and transformed into fingers tightening around my throat. A lady passing by stopped, told Will, “She doesn’t look too good.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Will, ever steady, sounded uneasy.
“I’m a nurse. Let me help you with this child.”
She sat beside me and smoothed my hair. She took my wrist and gently placed her fingertips on my pulse. Her face was so near mine, her eyes looked crossed. I moved my head away from her stale breath.
“Let’s count together now, one-two. One, two, breathe in. One, two, breathe out. One . . . two. One . . . Two. In, and out. That’s it. In, out,” and after a time, my breathing moderated. “Calmly in, sigh it out,” her voice was melodic. I inhaled deeply, exhaled more slowly. Air filled my chest—clean, pure air—I could gulp it in and not cough brown spittle back out.
She regarded Will. “You’re her brother?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m Will Becker. This here’s Ruby Lee.”
“I can see that.” She touched the paper Pa had pinned on me. “Just a little nervous distress.”
She kept at me with the counting. “One, two, Ru-by. One, two, Ruby Lee.” I focused on her. Her face came into sharper view. Faint pink lipstick coated her lips. Her skin was smooth, powdery white. Her eyes glowed, the palest of blues. She laid two delicate fingers on my wrist again and watched me awhile.
“There, little sister, your pulse is normal. You’re doing swell.”
The other travelers had cleared out. The steward hovered nearby. “Lost her vertical hold, did she? Well, she looks fine now,” he pronounced, the first words he’d uttered to us since taking Pa’s dollar. “Off you go.”
“We’ll set a while longer.” The nurse was firm, not taking her gaze from me. “When you’re ready, Ruby Lee.”
I relaxed. I stretched out my legs, lifted my feet, and rolled them round at my ankles, first one way, then t’other. Seemed like they’d work. I was breathing normal again. I stood up.
Will let out a sigh, saying thank you. We took it slow walking till I froze at the steps. Will stood below with outstretched arms to lift me down to the platform. Behind me, the nurse gripped my shoulders, whispered, “You can do it.”
You can live without Momma.
~~~
A farm devastated. A dream destroyed. A family scattered.
And one Texas girl determined to salvage the wreckage.
Ruby Lee Becker can't breathe. It's 1935 in the heart of the Dust Bowl, and the Becker family has clung to its Texas Panhandle farm through six years of drought, dying crops, and dust storms. On Black Sunday, the biggest blackest storm of them all threatens ten-year-old Ruby with deadly dust pneumonia and requires a drastic choice —one her mother, Willa Mae, will forever regret.
To survive, Ruby is forced to leave the only place she's ever known. Far from home in Waco, and worried her mother has abandoned her, she's determined to get back.
Even after twelve years, Willa Mae still clings to memories of her daughter. Unable to reunite with Ruby, she's broken by their separation.
Through rollicking adventures and harrowing setbacks, the tenacious Ruby Lee embarks on her perilous quest for home —and faces her one unspoken fear.
Heart-wrenching and inspiring, the tale of Ruby Lee's dogged perseverance and Willa Mae's endless love for her daughter shines a light on women driven apart by disaster who bravely lean on one another, find comfort in remade families, and redefine what home means.
~ W.F. Strong, author, Stories From Texas
Thanks for featuring my historical novel, Unspoken!
ReplyDeleteYou're very welcome, Jann!
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