“He treat the kids poorly?”
The woman’s face said it all.
“You got a picture of Frank?”
“You just went past it. That little boy at the motel.”
Ruby went back to the photo. It was blurry, but something about the little boy moved her.
“Not long after that, Frank and Willa got taken away, and that was the last anyone saw of them for a long time.”
“What happened to them?”
“The county took them. Back then, if you were a ward of the state, they made it hard for families to get you back. I heard Betty tried, but there was red tape up to here.” She gestured under her chin, and it looked like she was cutting her own throat. “Frank tried to protect Willa, from what I heard. Eventually, they grew up and left.”
“When did you last see them?”
“Oh, they were little. Maybe at the time of that picture? I heard Frank eventually turned up working at the courthouse. And Betty had Willa helping at the motel.”
“If there are more of you, why did Willa inherit everything?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“In the probate, Frank was the executor. He claimed there were no other relatives. He gave it all to Willa.”
“Why, that—” the woman exploded.
“You didn’t know?”
“Of course not!” She was upset, and spots of color appeared under the powder on her cheeks. Her bright mouth pursed. “Frank told others that Betty had left everything to Willa. It was all cut-and-dried, he said. We had no reason not to believe him... none of us live down there anymore. Nothing there for us. And this...”
“It’s okay,” Ruby soothed, not because it was but because she was concerned about the woman, and she led her to a chair with doilies on the arms to sit. Cordelia regained her breath.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“You really want that motel?” Ruby asked.
“No. I suppose not. It just isn’t right.”
Cordelia patted her chest, and Ruby passed her the glass of tea. She drank, steadily.
Ruby circled the room. She stopped at a picture of a large brick building, and a bad feeling began crawling up her legs. The institutional nature of the building reminded her of the poorhouse. But it was clearly here in Georgia. The antiquated lettering was crooked underneath.
hammock county home for children, it said.
“What’s this?”
“That’s the home where Willa and Frank got sent.” She made a face. “I have the picture for posterity, I guess. I hear it was an awful place. Just plain awful. If they thought their dad was bad...”
Behind the home there were pens and pastures, and an old red barn.Ruby could see animals in the pens, and what looked like children tending them. The poor need to work. Even children. They might become lazy, otherwise. They might start feeling like they had the right to exist.
“What kind of animals did they raise?” Ruby asked, stepping closer to the old photograph.
“Oh, all kinds. Chickens, mostly. And pigs. They slaughtered them and sold the meat. Can you imagine, being a ward of the state and being forced to kill the animals you raised?”
“Their dad, what was his name?”
“Jerry Lee Castle. He’s dead now.”