Beverly fixed her frown before she turned back to her daughter. “Lindsay, that isnotwhat we’re saying. You will always be welcome in this house. All I’m asking now is that you finish out your semester while I try to put all this unpleasantness behind us.”
Lindsay studied her mother and shook her head. “I can’t believe it,” she finally announced. “You’re terrified of Lula Dean.”
Once upon a time, Beverly would have laughed at the suggestion. Now she knew better. Truth was, Lula Dean was scary as hell.
Lula never could get enough attention. Beverly had diagnosed the disorder all the way back in high school. Even then, Lula had been desperate for people to see her—and she’d been blessed with all the gifts that caught others’ eyes. Trouble was, most people never stuck around for a second look. Until her senior year of high school, Beverly couldn’t have put a finger on what it was that scared everyone off. Then she’d found how far Lula was willing to go for the recognition she craved—and just how much she believed she deserved it.
After graduation, Beverly had planned to leave town and cede Troy to Lula. Of course, that’s not how things turned out. For the past twenty-five years, the two of them had lived in houses half a mile apart. They both attended the First Baptist Church. They belonged to the booster club and baked mountains of cookies for the PTA. An outsider could be forgiven for thinking two women who shared so much in common might lead similar lives. But Beverly, now head of the school board, had long been seen as a pillar of the Troy community. Until recently, Lula Dean had been known as the town crank.
As usual, Lula had brought it all on herself. After her husband died and her kids left town, a lot of folks took pity on her. She could have taken the opportunity to mend some fences. Instead Lula seemed dead set on using her time and energy to punish the world for ignoring her in the first place.Most of her efforts never paid off. Nobody gave a damn if Walmart sold butt plugs—or if the gift shop on Main Street carried cards for gay dads. Then Lula discovered pornography in the baking section of the local library. Within a month, she was famous throughout the state.
It didn’t matter that a thirteen-year-old delinquent confessed to slipping the erotic cake cookbook onto the library’s shelves as a prank. Lula had found her calling. Having successfully rebranded herself as a righteous crusader, she got right to work. The children of Troy were in terrible danger, Lula announced on Facebook. Within weeks, she’d recruited a group of like-minded residents. Together, Lula’s Concerned Parents Committee assembled a list of books they believed had no place in a God-fearing town. Beverly found an identical list online, but Lula claimed it wasn’t plagiarism—just proof they’d picked all the right ones.
Beverly could have kicked herself for refusing to take Lula more seriously. But over her forty-four years, she’d watched countless panics flare up and fade away. A while back, every store in town kept the laundry detergent under lock and key. Now no one worried about kids nibbling on April Fresh Tide pods, and Beverly expected Lula’s crusade to share the same fate. Then, on the first of May, she received a frantic call from the high school’s librarian. The principal had allowed six members of the CPC into the library, and they were yanking books off the shelves. By the time Beverly made it over to the high school, the Concerned Parents Committee had already moved on to Troy’s middle school. The elementary school and the public library were ransacked before the end of the day.
As head of the school board, Beverly convened an emergency session. But her fellow members weren’t eager to act. The CPC would be holding a press conference the following afternoon, and they wanted to hear what Lula Dean had to say. Stunned by her unexpected defeat, Beverly logged on to Facebook, where Lula had posted pictures of the books they’d confiscated from the town’s four libraries.What should we do with this filth?Lula asked her followers. Beverly scrolled down through the replies. The most common response appeared to be:Burn it!!!
Beverly sat back and stared at all those exclamation points. She could sense the excitement. There were people in Troy who thought burning books would be fun.
When Lindsay got wind of the latest developments, she’d hopped in her car and driven five hours to Troy—even though her junior-year finals at Duke were just around the corner.
“You can’t let them burn those books, Mom,” Lindsay announced the second she set foot through the door.
“Honey, I’m notlettingthem do anything,” Beverly told her, unwilling to admit that the situation wasn’t under control. She’d just heard that the principal of the high school had lent the Concerned Parents Committee the school auditorium for its press conference. Beverly could sense the tide turning against her.
The next afternoon, Beverly and Lindsay were sitting side by side in the front row of the high school auditorium. Beverly counted thirty boxes of books stacked on the stage. The crowd went silent when Lula sashayed out to the microphone. Twelve members of the Concerned Parents Committee filed out behind her. Some—like the high school valedictorian’s father—were people Beverly would never have expected to see. One of them was the mayor’s wife.
Beverly was so shaken she barely heard Lula’s speech. But when it came time for questions, she was the first to rise to her feet. “How did you decide which books should be removed?” Beverly asked. “Have you read them?”
“Do I look like a person who’d read this kind of smut?” Lula asked, holding up a copy ofAnne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl.
Lindsay let out a startled laugh, and Beverly saw Lula’s eyes land on her daughter.
“Looks like somebody thinks all this is funny.” Lula was not amused. “Lord only knows what damage these books have done to the youth of this town. While we weren’t paying attention, we may have lost an entiregeneration. And who’s been taking our children? Hold tight and I’ll show you. It’s not like he’s been hiding. He’s been sitting right here on our library shelves.”
Lula left the mic, marched over to the nearest box, and plucked a book off the top of the pile. The red, black, and yellow cover showed a terrified boy, his body licked by flames.
“Recognize this?” Lula called out. “Y’all know who the Lord of the Flies is, don’t you? You think it’s a coincidence this book’s named after the devil? He’s been right here in Troy, and he’s opened the door to a whole slew of demons. Anarchists and pedophiles and socialized health care. He’s the reason your children complain about going to church. He’s why your doors have to be locked when you leave the house. Without the Lord of the Flies, kids wouldn’t be getting kidnapped or groomed or given double mastectomies.”
Lula paused to catch her breath, and Beverly saw a flash of uncertainty. For a moment, even Lula seemed to wonder if she’d gone too far. Beverly glanced over her shoulder at the audience. The faces she saw all appeared fearful. But it was impossible to know what exactly had scared them.
Lula went back to the mic and held the book against her ample chest. “This is how the Lord of the Flies gets into your homes,” she said in a voice that sounded somber, even reasonable. “Through books that encourage our children to use drugs, have sex, and pursue the homosexual lifestyle. The CPC has brought these books to your attention. Now the people of this town must decide what to do with them before it’s too late.”
“Bonfire!” shouted a man on the committee.
“No.” Beverly finally recovered her voice. “The school board will look into the matter.”
“And how many children will we lose while the board takes its time deliberating?” Lula demanded.
“Mom!” Beverly heard Lindsay whisper behind her. “You have to make them put the books back!”
Beverly ignored her daughter. “Until we issue a ruling, the books will be stored in a secure location.”
After the citizens of Troy filed out of the auditorium, Beverly and Lindsay silently loaded the boxes into their Highlander and stacked them all in the Underwoods’ basement.
Beverly went to bed that night knowing Lindsay thought she was a coward. And she was. She should have fought harder to keep the books on the shelves. She should have stood up to Lula Dean. The truth was, Beverly wasn’t scared for herself. She didn’t mind being in Lula’s crosshairs. But she knew where Lula was heading with her talk about the “homosexual lifestyle,” and she wasn’t going to let that woman go after her daughter. Lindsay had a right to lead her life without little-minded monsters like Lula taking shots at her.
In the morning, the paper announced that Lula Dean was considering a run against Beverly for her seat on the Troy school board. “Do we really feel comfortable reelecting a woman who keeps pornography and communist propaganda in her house?” Lula had asked the reporter. The picture that accompanied the article showed Lula in her front yard. A cabinet shaped like a little house was fixed to a pole by her white picket fence. Lula had painted it lavender, decorated it with pink and white flowers, and filled its three shelves with only the most wholesome books.
