Art by Linda Parker
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Created from: October 2003 Book Review
 Ginnie and The Mystery Light by Catherine WoolleyCopyright 1973
They were coming down, the sky unexpectedly dusky as the plane emerged from the cloud bed, the earth below sprinkled with lights.
The plane skimmed the ground, gave a gentle bump as it touched
the runway, sped forward and slowed to the pull of heavy brakes.
"Please keep your seats until the plane has stopped moving."
Then she pulled her coat from the rack and was moving down the
aisle with the other passengers. The pretty stewardess smiled.
"Good-bye now. I hope you enjoyed your flight."
"Yes, thank you."
As she emerged into the terminal, Ginnie's eyes searched the
crowd expectantly, then anxiously, for she saw no familiar face
among those meeting the plane.
Where were the Porters? Geneva had said of course they would
come to meet her, but no one was here. Well, she would find her
suitcase.
Ginnie looked for an arrow pointing to the luggage pickup and
followed it, slightly uneasy now. The pickup was close to a door
where cars were lined up and she looked out into the fast-falling
darkness. It was much warmer here than it had been at home,
she noticed. No familiar figure leaped from a car.
Her bag appeared and she tugged it close to the door. She had
the Porter's telephone number if she had to use it. Maybe they
had gotten the time of her flight wrong. Maybe someone was sick.
Or perhaps they had car trouble...an accident. What would she
do if they did not come? A porter approached and she shook her
head.
Gradually the small waiting room cleared as passengers collected
their luggage and departed into the night. Ginnie waited, sitting on
one of the hard benches, then got up to peer out the door once more. Maybe she ought to telephone, but if she went to phone they might
come and not find her, and leave.
She sat there watching headlights swerve into the drive leading off
the road, the cars pulling up in front of the terminal. Each time
Ginnie's heart rose, then plunged again. Finally she began to fumble forlornly in her bag for the telephone number in Bellport.
"Ginnie!"
They were here, Geneva and Mr. Porter. "Oh," Geneva was crying,
"I was devastated not to be here when you landed!" They hugged
each other, and then Mr. Porter gave Ginnie a hug and a kiss.
"There was n accident on the road," Geneva went on. "And the
traffic was all held up. I was afraid you'd--oh, I don't know! I can't
believe you're here!"
"Neither can I." Weak with relief, Ginnie was content to let
Geneva chatter on.
Mrs. Porter, standing by the car, held out her arms in a warm
greeting. "What a shame you had to wait!" But you're here and
we're so glad to have you!"
Charleston, what she could see of it, looked to Ginnie like any city.
She gazed out as they drove, letting the recent unpleasant
experience slip into the background, and suddenly she heard
herself say, "I don't see anything weird."
"Charleston's real nice," Geneva replied. "The old part especially.
It's got beautiful houses. And Bellport is okay. It's real old too. It's
kind of spooky around Bellport. You'll see."
"She won't see much tonight," Mrs. Porter said from the front seat.
"I'm sorry we were so late."
"She can see the woods on both sides and how dark everything is."
It was not long before Ginnie did see. The road now appeared to
run through endless forests that seemed to be somewhat below the
level of the straight two-lane road. As the car's headlights picked up
the trees she could see that they were festooned with odd strings
and loops.
"Is that Spanish moss?" she asked curiously.
"Yes, it grows that way. Ginnie, I know some girls now. They're
okay. We're invited to a party," Geneva told her.
"That's nice. Everybody sent you their love. And Peter didn't send
love but he said, 'Say hello for me.' So--Hello!"
"Oh," Mrs. Porter said suddenly, "I just remembered. We've got to
go around by Phoebe's house and see if she has some way of
getting to town tomorrow."
"Phoebe's our cleaning woman," Geneva explained.
"Can't you call her?" Mr. Porter asked.
"She doesn't have a telephone. I'm sorry," Geneva's mother told her
husband, "but Phoebe thought her daughter might not be able to
bring her, in which case I'll have to go."
"Where does she live?"
"Lonesome Bay Road. That's the road that goes out past the old fort.
I took her home once so I think I can find the house."
Geneva rattled on about school while Ginnie looked out at the black, ghostly landscape. Finally they turned off onto Lonesome Bay Road, which looked blacker than the thoroughfare they had left.
"Don't any people live on this road?" Ginnie asked curiously.
"There are houses all along," Geneva told her.
"Why are they all dark?"
Mrs. Porter spoke over her shoulder. "Many of these people don't
have electricity, and I suppose the ones who do don't burn any
more lights than they need to."
"Are they black or white?" Ginnie asked.
"Mostly black. This area has had a majority of blacks since long
before the Civil War."
"You mean there are more black people here than white?"
"That's right."
"Now where is this house?" Mr. Porter asked.
"We go about a mile beyond a church. Phoebe said it would have
an outside light."
Now Ginnie could see that they passed an occasional small house.
Where a light showed, it was dim, behind a covered window. They
passed the church. When they reached Phoebe's house the place
seemed a mere shadow in the night until Mr. Porter turned into a
crude driveway and Ginnie saw a faint illumination in the back.
The door opened to Mrs. Porter's knock, and Ginnie could see
the trim figure of a woman against the light from a dangling
electric bulb.
Mrs. Porter talked briefly. "Good," they heard her say. "I'll expect
you. Good night, Phoebe."
Back in the car, Mrs. Porter said, "Now we can go home." They
headed back the way they had come, and Ginnie felf awed by the
eeriness of her surroundings.
Then Mr. Porter spoke. "That's odd." He slowed the car.
"What's odd?" his wife asked.
"Did we come through a traffic light on this road?"
"No, we didn't."
"What's that bright light ahead of us?" Mr. Porter inquired.
This concludes this month's book review of the book titled:
Ginnie and The Mystery Light by Catherine Woolley.
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