As ‘Tulee Main’ continues, we begin to learn more about Vickie; in a way, too much more.
‘The itching on her stomach had kicked in again. Usually it was around her face, but it had been spreading lately . . . Her nails bore into the softness of her mid-section, then ground hard against her ribs as they, too, cried for salvation . . . her hands stopped, and she began to once again aimlessly wander through her mind, looking for solutions.’
Vickie isn’t having a good morning. She hasn’t for awhile. Right now, it looks doubtful she ever will again.
‘ “Where could they go?” . . . almost screamed at the off-white plastic curtains her fingers had seized when Vickie had bolted up from the chair. They didn’t answer her . . . She turned toward the bed and laboriously burrowed into the blankets, seeking darkness and safety from the danger around her, and from herself as well.’
These are just little snippets from a single ‘down’ pressing on Vickie. In the story, these small disjointed sections come together with others to lay out Vickie’s life as that life starts to spiral downward.
Still, it’s just a story. In a sense, it’s not ‘real’, is it? Let’s look at ‘real’.
This a map of Tennessee. The map itself is in various shades of green. What you’re seeing are the brown dots showing the residence of suspected purchasers, the yellow dots of meth labs that were seized and the red dots showing individuals arrested at seizure. It looks as though the state had been consumed by some malignant growth – and, in a way it has been.
8,741 Lab Seizures
In a peaceful, generally rural stretch of America moving gently downward from the heights of the Appalachians to the banks of the Mississipi.
Comment at will.
(This post is intended to complement the narrative and views expressed in “The Passing of Tulee Main”. To learn more about the book, press the ‘Main Site Home Page’ link at the top of this post. (Beyond the on-site material there, the Nook, Kindle and Amazon links have sample chapters available to view.)