Black Locust Letters by Nicolette Jinks

threat and a warning whose meaning was lost on
her.
    At
first, Ferdinand said nothing and she thought he would ask her
again, but he jerked his head to bring her around the corner of the
wall where the music was muffled.
    “ Thomas Eldestein. Crow. Aerial battalion.” His orange eyes
were staring at her, unblinking. “It is my night out on the town.
No one here knows enough to tell you one way or the other about
Tom. What makes you ask?”
    Betty glanced away, unsettled by his gaze. How much could she
say?
    This
made him nod. “That was you, then, at the market. Didn't get the
warning. You're out of practice, not talking to either camp, aren't
you?”
    Betty swallowed, not wanting him to know that he was too
right. Ferdinand pulled Liza close in to his side. “No more talk.
Go listen to Incubus. Dance some. That's why you're here. If you
want gossip, go to the neighbourhood dinner Saturday
afternoons.”
    With
that, he left Betty to the beat of drums reverberating through the
night.
     
    Betty found the neighbourhood dinner by watching out her
window at the streets for the march of women and children. She
followed the line of women and children with a plate consisting of
a gelatin mould containing colorful bits of fruit. Approaching the
house, so similar yet so different to her own, was an awkward
affair and something that she nearly backed down on twice. But
presently the door opened before she could knock, her offering of
red gelatin was studied and accepted, taken out of her hands, the
door left open for Betty to find her own way down the narrow
hall.
    They
had the dining room where Betty had a living room, and the living
room was a makeshift nursery for the entire assortment of
neighbourhood kids.
    In
the kitchen, a luxurious add-on which Betty did not have, several
women gathered around the stove, making light talk which tapered
off at the sight of Betty. She smiled meekly, suddenly feeling like
a stray dog begging for scraps.
    “ Hi,
I'm Betty. I live just down the road.”
    The
one who held her gelatin nodded. “I'm two over, the one with the
dog who won't shut his mouth. Sorry about that. Name's
Della.”
    One
by one, the others introduced themselves, but it was only Della's
name that she could remember.
    Betty passed the afternoon making casual talk, and eventually
they realized she was the morning voice for Tango, and their
behavior warmed noticeably. They heaped plates for everyone, and
Betty was horrified to see that they had tuna and lime gelatin
sandwiches, which she felt obligated to swallow. She did so as best
she could without tasting, and was glad that the rest of the
offerings were more appealing: Green bean casserole with potato
chips to top, a very delicious chocolate cake she was amazed to
discover got its moistness from a can of tomato soup, coleslaw made
with apples and celery, and a cordial of tomato sauce and
celery.
    “ What made you finally decide to come?” Della asked, cutting
through a rant about the bin collection day and inducing silence
throughout the party.
    Betty shifted, feeling uncomfortable to admit to the truth.
“Ferdinand suggested I come.”
    “ Ferdinand?” Repeated Della, eyebrows raised.
    Betty hesitated. “Do you know him?”
    “ Claire's son. Number 85. Where did you meet him
at?”
    Betty didn't like being on this side of the information ring,
but if she wanted to get anything, she needed to give some. “I was
at the rockability club.”
    Della laughed, not an amused laugh but one of surprise.
“There's a lot more to this story than we are hearing! Talk, now,
talk. Don't fret, we will think kindly of you.”
    But
Betty did worry, still, there wasn't much to be had for it if she
wanted to find out about Tom. So, uncomfortably, she said, “It sort
of goes back for a while. Jenny at the market? The wool seller?
She's sort of a friend. At least, I think she saved my skin not
long ago.”
    “ Yes, Sunny Glenn has become...temperamental towards who it
will