"You're awfully quiet, Bean," Hadley said after Beanie had buckled up. "I'll bet you're more tired than a dung beetle at the Chicago stockyards."
"I'm pretty tired," said Beanie. "I ain't used to stayin' up this late. But Harvey gave me tomorrow off."
"That's good," said Hadley. "Sleep in late. I plan to. How's your finger?"
"It's real good," said Beanie. "Granny fixed me right up. I ain't seen no signs of it even beginnin' to want to rot off. Ain't itched 'er turned black 'er nuthin'."
"I'm glad," said Hadley. "Granny Dilcie gave me something. Tonight after the service, she had one of the Elanor twins bring it to me."
Hadley pointed to the mojo bag she had laid in the cup holder in the console of the car.
"Them twins sure do look alike, Hadley," Beanie said. "I swear I can't tell one from the t'other. What did she give you?"
"Me, neither," said Hadley. "I guess Granny's grooming one of them to take over after she's gone. Lou Edna says it's a good luck conjure bag."
"Good for you. I wish she'd give me one. Do me a world of good to keep in my pocket out here amongst all these dead people all the time."
"These people aren't going to bother you, Bean," Hadley said.
"Umm," Beanie answered without commitment.
"Well," said Hadley, "think of it this way. Harry's out here, isn't he?"
"Yeah," Beanie said.
"Do you honestly think my Harry would ever let anything happen to you in the same cemetery where he's resting?"
"I hadn't thought of that, Hadley," Beanie said. "Harry's watching over me out here."
"Always," said Hadley.
Beanie was quiet.
"What is it?" Hadley said.
"I was just thinkin' 'bout them Elanor twins. It was sad 'bout what happened to their mama," said Beanie.
"Yeah," said Hadley. "Swept away like that. It was such a tragic accident. But Granny Dilcie's done a mighty fine job raising those two girls. I don't know how she's done it, but she has. It couldn't have been easy at her age."