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A Place Called Wiregrass by Michael Morris

By Michael Morris

Erma Lee is at the run . . . operating from an abusive husband . . . working from a mom who does not care -- by no means cared. working from a soul-numbing manufacturing unit activity that has held her down her whole lifestyles ... Erma Lee and her granddaughter, Cher, flee to the city of Wiregrass, Alabama, to flee the earlier and begin over -- or so Erma Lee thinks. Erma Lee types an not likely friendship with leave out Claudia, an aged socialite who's hiding a number of information about her personal previous. lifestyles in Wiregrass is diversified for Erma Lee and Cher, for the following they locate mercy and promise -- till, that's, the day Cher's convict father arrives on the town, forcing all 3 ladies to come back to phrases with buried secrets and techniques.

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Extra resources for A Place Called Wiregrass

Example text

I almost couldn’t remember the phone number. But instead of worrying that it was the sign of some brain tumor or Alzheimer’s, I was relieved. One more thing I was forgetting about that place I once called home. He cleared his throat into the receiver and welcomed the caller. ” I imagined icicles snaking through my voice to Cross City. I wanted to scream, but I knew Miss Claudia sat in the kitchen, glued to the edge of her chair. “My grandbaby give it to me. ” Adjusted to Wiregrass or not, I’m gonna blister that girl when I get home.

I could just see him driving to the Brown Jug and telling everybody how I kidnapped his grandbaby and how he would rot in jail before seeing me keep her. “Them papers say I’m her daddy by law,” he’d shout at no one in particular. Knowing full well he couldn’t raise Cher and she was better off with me. It was that pride thing he had. The same thing kept me from telling Miss Claudia about my black-and-blue past. Once I confessed my fear and she made the phone calls, I felt stronger. I’d never leaned on anybody before and wondered if I was venturing on shaky territory by letting Miss Claudia get so wrapped up in my business.

Not that I ever understood why Prune Face brought her Bible. They were in plentiful supply at Miss Claudia’s house. She kept one in every bedroom and even a small black Bible in her downstairs guest bathroom. During the end of my first week, I found her propped up on four pillows with unusually flat hair. She had her big book spread across her lap. I was dusting the antique armoire and had almost made it to the legs when I heard the voice. “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

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