Eight to Ten

Lurleen’s back was to the wall with her knees pulled up and a magazine resting against her plump thighs. The trio of vertical lines between her eyebrows scrunched together as she read each question.

“Bobbi-Jo”, she mumbled. “Would you say I’m responsible?”

A voice floated up from the long, skinny figure lying prone on the bed opposite Lurleen’s.

“Why’z you askin’ me?”

Lurleen’s tongue clucked with impatience. “Because I am takin’ a test, that’s why. To see if I’m the type of person who’s ready for marriage.”

“You readin’ Dr. Phil?” Bobbi-Jo snorted.

“Noooo. It’s in this here magazine. Ten yes or no questions. I’m on number nine.”

Curious, Bobbi-Jo opened her chocolate-colored eyes and faced Lurleen. “How you doin’ so far?”

Lurleen instinctively used her hand to shield the page from Bobbi-Jo even though the woman was a good four feet away. “Won’t say ‘til I’m finished.”

Bobbi-Jo lay back and contemplated the question while gazing at the dark crack on the ceiling. It started under the light socket in the center of the room and meandered across a short expanse only to disappear under the thick window frame.

“I s’pose you are,” she finally said. “I mean you had a job, took care of a house, kids and all. It's better’n a lot of women I know.”

Lurleen fluffed her lifeless, blond hair and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Read the next one out loud,” Bobbi-Jo said.

Lurleen cleared her throat. “Can you handle disagreements pro..duct..ively with your partner?”

Another snort.

Lurleen’s voice rose in protest. “The test isn’t askin’ about the past. It is askin’ about now. Understand?"

Bobbi-Jo sat up to fire something back, but the flat resonance of metal scraping against metal interrupted her and she let the words drop silently from her lips.

Footsteps could be heard, the solid, bleak rhythm of rubber soles on concrete. Bobbi-Jo’s nail-bitten fingers clenched the edge of the bed frame.

The magazine,now forgotten,slipped from Lurleen’s lap onto the floor. Her body curled into a ball, and her eyes turned blank.

The guard stopped in front of their cell. “Lurleen? Your lawyer’s here. Seems that cheatin’ boyfriend of yours done died last night. Now the Sheriff’s gonna up your charge to manslaughter.”

Lurleen remained on the bed while the guard unlocked the cell-door. He shook his head. “Now girl, it ain’t no good lying there hopin’ your troubles’ll go away.”

Bobbi-Jo reached over to give her cellmate’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “Go on, baby.”

Dazed, Lurleen dragged herself up and remained docile while the handcuffs went on and she was led out.

After they left, Bobbi-Jo picked up the magazine and flipped through to the test. The first eight questions were marked ‘yes’. The last two were still blank.

She found the answer key and read aloud. “If you answered ‘yes’ to between eight and ten of the questions, you have a very good chance of making it to a ripe old age happily together.”