Between Friends
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Brown
JILLIAN LAWTON
BARNARD COLLEGE
PLIMPTON HALL
NEW YORK, NY 10025
July 12, 1970
Dear Lesley,
It was great to chat with you this afternoon. We don’t talk nearly often enough. Now that I have a summer job that pays real money, I can afford to call you once in a while. Actually, I didn’t think I was going to enjoy working in a law library, but I do. My first apartment is so dinky I barely have room to turn around, but that’s New York.
Okay, what’s up? I haven’t been your best friend all these years without knowing when you’re upset about something. You might be able to hide it from everyone else, but not me. I know you far too well. It was in your voice when we spoke this afternoon. I could always detect when there’s a problem, so ’fess up.
Are you worried about the baby/babies? Buck’s job? The kids? I’ve spilled my guts to you often enough that you shouldn’t have any trouble unburdening yourself to me.
I’ll look for a letter soon.
Love,
Jillian
P.S. I guess it’s time I changed my stationery, isn’t it? I’m no longer a student at Barnard College and I’m no longer living in residence. Watch out, Harvard! Here I come.
July 24, 1970
Dear Jillian,
You do know me, don’t you? Sometimes I forget how well. When you phoned Sunday afternoon I’d just finished dealing with an unexpected visitor. He’d come to the door and knocked and seemed surprised when I answered. I was holding Lindy in my arms and had Davey clinging to my side. He took one look at my belly and didn’t seem to know what to say. Then he asked if this was where Buck Knowles lived and I told him it was. He asked to talk to Buck, but Buck was out fishing with his buddies. The man introduced himself as Sam Gavin and said he’d come to deliver a message to Buck. I told him I’d make sure Buck received it. That was when Sam said I should tell my husband to stay away from his wife. If he caught Buck anywhere near her again, he’d rearrange his face.
Jillian, I was stunned speechless. Buck is seeing another woman? Naturally I’d find this out when I’m big and pregnant and feeling incredibly ugly. I felt as if the floor had opened up.
Now you can understand why I didn’t sound like my normal self. Buck didn’t get home until late. He’d caught his limit of fish but none of his buddies had even a nibble, so he gave them his catch. (Sometimes I wish he wasn’t so generous.) When I told him Sam Gavin stopped by, Buck didn’t give any indication that he knew who the man was. When I relayed Sam’s message—word for word—Buck looked dumbfounded. He told me that he had no idea what the hell Sam was talking about.
I know what you’re going to ask me. It’s a question I’ve asked myself a hundred times. Was Buck telling the truth? I don’t know. I just don’t know. He vows he isn’t seeing anyone else. With two kids, another on the way and no means of supporting myself, I can’t afford not to believe him.
Since that night he’s been wonderful with the kids. He picked up some spare wood at the mill and built Davey a clubhouse. It’s really cute and Davey is thrilled. He hammers the nails for hours and is so proud of himself. For the last week Buck’s been home every night and even helped with the dinner dishes once. Lindy is a real daddy’s girl and he can charm her out of a temper tantrum without trying. All I can say is, if he was actually seeing this woman, he isn’t any longer. Don’t tell me I’m turning my head and blindly looking the other way. I’m not. Buck is my husband and the father of my children and I believe him. I have to.
On a brighter note, I was finally able to have the X-ray and all the doctor saw was one big baby. I’m sure it must be a boy, although I think Buck would almost prefer another girl.
Don’t work too hard this summer and promise me you’ll stay in touch. I’ll be sure and let you know when the baby’s born.
Love,
Lesley
* * *
BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT
It’s a bouncing baby boy
Douglas Steven Knowles
Born on
August 1, 1970
8 lbs, 14oz.
21'' long
The happy parents are:
Buck and Lesley Knowles
* * *
Lawton, Shields, Ellis and Gordon
600 Main Street
Suite 302
Pine Ridge, Washington 98005
September 1, 1970
Dear Jillian,
I’m writing you at the risk of offending both your parents. As you may or may not know, your father has experienced a number of health problems in recent years. This past month he’s undergone several medical tests. As a result of the doctor’s findings, it’s been decided that your father needs heart bypass surgery. Your mother wanted you to know, but your father insisted you not be told.
Since I’m a close family friend, I’ve taken it upon myself to inform you of this. Apparently your father’s condition makes it necessary for the surgery to be scheduled almost immediately. He goes into Seattle General Hospital on the afternoon of Tuesday, September 8th, with surgery scheduled first thing the following morning. At this time, Seattle General is the only hospital in the Puget Sound area that performs these surgeries.
Your mother would never go against your father’s wishes. I, on the other hand, feel you have a right to know.
I realize you and your father have had your differences over the past few years, but I didn’t think you’d allow a disagreement to stand between you at this crucial time in your father’s life.
Forgive me if I’ve spoken out of turn.
Sincerely,
Montgomery Gordon
* * *
Classified ad in Pine Ridge Newspaper
Hunting rifle, barely used
$150 or best offer
Contact John Smithson
777-7078
* * *
Posted at Laundromat
Sewing machine—
$75.00
Rainier Bank Withdrawal Slip
$130.00
Signed: Buck Knowles
Rainier Bank
1321 Main Street
Pine Ridge, Washington 98005
Dear Mrs. Knowles,
Thank you for your letter, concerning the recent withdrawal from your savings account. According to our records, the $130.00 in question was withdrawn at the request of Buck Knowles. As you have a joint checking account with your husband that is linked to your savings account, he is granted automatic access to your account.
I apologize if this misunderstanding has caused you any inconvenience.
Sincerely,
Peter Johnson
Customer Service Manager
1973
Jillian’s Diary
January 1, 1973
Dearest Nick,
I woke up early this afternoon after a late New Year’s Eve party at a friend’s house. As I lay in bed, my thoughts were on the new year, but my heart drifted back to you. I guess I’ve been feeling guilty because of Thom and me. I’ve been seeing quite a bit of Thom Eliason. We met a few years ago at a protest rally and we’re both attending Harvard Law School. You and Lesley always said I’d make a great attorney and I’m beginning to realize how right you were.
I love the law and am working hard to grasp its principles. I long to make the laws of our land more equitable for women. It’ll happen in time. The changes of the last few years would shock you, but I don’t think you’d be upset, the way some men are. (It won’t surprise you to learn that my father is one of them!) Honest to God, I don’t know what men are so afraid of.
I don’t want to get sidetracked on the issue of women’s rights. My feeling is that the Equal Rights Amendment will eventually pass. Too many women have put their hearts behind this constitutional amendment for it to fail now. As you can see, I’ve become more politically minded than ever. Law school has had that effect on me.
About Thom. I
figured I should tell you I’ve been sleeping with him. It’s nothing like what we shared. It happened the first time after a few joints, when my inhibitions were lowered. It’s continued because…well, because it feels good to have someone hold me. Thom seems to understand that this is a physical thing and my emotions aren’t involved. We don’t talk about it.
Marriage isn’t a subject I even consider, although according to Lesley, who keeps track of this sort of thing, nearly ninety percent of the girls in our high school class are now married. Lesley’s worried that unless I find a husband soon, I’ll end up an old maid. As a mother of three, she has difficulty accepting the fact that I have no interest in marriage or a family. Good grief, I’m only twenty-five! I’ve repeatedly told her I never intend to marry, but (like my parents) she doesn’t believe me. It isn’t an issue with us, but I do find her attitude amusing.
I have big expectations for this new year. I only wish you were here to share them with me. I think of you, and talk to you so often in my head that sometimes I can almost believe you’re still alive. Sometimes I indulge in the luxury of pretending that you came home to me and that we’re married and we’ve had a baby or two. I think about you and Brad Lincoln starting up your own business, the way you so often mentioned. But sooner or later, reality hits. You never came home and the happy life we planned is nothing more than the lingering memories of a dream that died with you.
Please don’t mind about Thom and me. You’re the only man I’ve ever truly loved. The only man I ever will. I’m not the girl I was back when you knew me. I’m a woman now, and I’d like to believe you’d approve of the changes.
Remember how much I love you.
Jillian
February 14, 1973
Dearest Jillian,
Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you like the big red heart Davey made you. He’s so proud of it. His was the best-looking one in his entire first-grade class. (But then, you could say I’m prejudiced.) Lindy made you a valentine, too. She’s thrilled that she can print her own name now. I haven’t the heart to tell her that Ydnil isn’t quite right. (Her kindergarten teacher told me not to worry—left-handed children often do this.) It’s amazing to think that my children are attending the same parochial school you and I did. St. Catherine’s is letting me work part-time in the cafeteria to help pay for Davey and Lindy’s tuition. The timing is perfect for me. It’s during Dougie’s nap time and Mom puts him down at her house and he barely knows I’m gone.
Buck is back at work now and I’m relieved. Not knowing where the money’s going to come from for the next trailer payment was such a worry. The food stamps helped with the groceries, but accepting charity, even from the government, mortifies me. I could barely show my face in the Albertson’s Store. It bothered me to the point that Buck volunteered to do the shopping. Okay, he didn’t exactly volunteer, it was a tradeoff. Buck invited his cousin Moose Garrison from Montana to live with us until he found a job. This guy eats like a moose, too, and it didn’t take much to envision him chomping his way through my weekly grocery allotment.
You’ll love this. At dinner the first night Moose showed up, Lindy sat down at the table, looked him square in the eye and said, “My mom says you’re gonna eat us out of house and home.” I could have died!
Moose ended up staying two weeks and expected me to wait on him hand and foot. I put up with him, but in exchange Buck started doing the grocery shopping. He didn’t like it, but I told him the job was his until he returned to work. Three weeks later, the mill called. I’ve never seen Buck this eager to get back on the job.
Did you see the television news the other night about the released American POWs landing at Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines? I sat there and wept for joy. Thank God this horrible war is almost over. It’s hard to believe anyone could survive such a horrendous ordeal as a prison camp. These men say a great deal about the strength of the human spirit, don’t they?
Jillian, something you said when we talked at Christmas has stayed on my mind. You told me you’d stopped attending Mass because of the Catholic Church’s stand on birth control and other issues regarding women. I’ve thought a lot about our discussion and I don’t agree, especially with what you said about birth control. Do you sincerely believe the Church would attempt to subjugate women by burdening them with more children than they can handle? As you know, Buck and I have struggled with this very issue. We’ve practiced the rhythm method all these years—with limited success.
Right before Dougie was born, Dr. Boone suggested I have a tubal ligation. I refused. As a practicing Catholic I just couldn’t. I’m as careful as I can be, but I feel God knows how many children Buck and I should have. It’s more than the Church’s stand; it’s a matter of faith, too.
Your not attending Mass wouldn’t bother me as much if you’d decided to join another church, but you haven’t. (Sister Martin de Porres would swallow her tongue if she heard me suggest anyone step inside a Protestant church!) From the way you were talking, it’s almost as if you believe God is against women. I refuse to even consider such a thing. I need God in my life and I need my faith. I couldn’t manage to survive a single day without getting down on my knees and saying the rosary. All I’m asking is that you not be too quick to abandon your faith.
I know you think I’m hopelessly naïve and perhaps I am, but I choose to believe. The alternative would destroy the very foundation of my life.
Keep in touch. You have no idea how much I enjoy your letters.
Lots of love,
Lesley and all
JILLIAN LAWTON
330 FAIRCHILD AVE
. APARTMENT 3B
BOSTON, MA 02138
February 17, 1973
Dear Thom,
I don’t know where to start other than to say how sorry I am. The engagement ring you bought me for Valentine’s Day was lovely. But I don’t think I’ve ever been more surprised.
Actually, it came as a complete shock, since we’d never discussed marriage. I suppose I should’ve realized that all the talk about our moving in together was your way of leading up to the marriage proposal. Thank you for your patience and for giving me time to think this over.
Please don’t be angry with me, but I’m simply not interested in marriage. I don’t want to marry anyone. I’ve got another year and a half of school before I take the bar exam. (We both do!) Also, I don’t know if I mentioned that my father’s health hasn’t been good, which is the reason I’ve made frequent trips to the West Coast. Once I do pass the bar, I’m contemplating a move back to Washington State, to work at my father’s firm.
I’m not the right wife for you. I’ve enjoyed your friendship, especially in the last six months, but I can’t accept your proposal. Please try to understand.
Jillian
February 24, 1973
Dear Jillian,
Your letter told me how difficult you found my marriage proposal. The fact that you chose to write me instead of talking this out, face-to-face, tells me you’re upset. I don’t want you to be. I certainly didn’t intend (or expect) my proposal to send you fleeing in the opposite direction!
What did you think, Jillian? Are you afraid my ego’s too fragile to handle rejection? I’d hoped that you, of all people, would know me better. But don’t worry, I’m cool with this. If you just want to live together for a while, that suits me fine. Call me and we can talk.
Thom
Mrs. Leonard Lawton
2330 Country Club Lane
Pine Ridge, Washington 98005
March 1, 1973
Dear Mr. Brad Lincoln,
Your letter addressed to Jillian arrived at the family home this past week. Please forgive me for reading something that wasn’t addressed to me. You see, I recognized your name. Jillian told me about you shortly after Nick died.
She’s had a very hard time dealing with the loss of her high-school sweetheart and is only now starting to adjust and date again. I was afraid your letter would distress her. As
her mother, I was trying to prevent that. I hope you’ll forgive me for intruding in this manner.
After careful consideration, I have decided against forwarding your letter to my daughter. I’m afraid that your contacting Jillian now would do her more harm than good. I understand your guilt over Nick’s death, but I don’t believe Jillian is the one who can absolve it. For whatever reason, God chose to let you live. Who is either one of us to question His will? Who are we to know His reasons?
Nick’s death nearly destroyed our daughter. It’s taken her five years to deal with her loss. Currently she’s dating another law student, and her father and I are encouraged by the relationship.
As her mother, I beg you to leave her alone. Please don’t attempt to contact her again. I will pray for you, and I hope this mental anguish will abate in time.
Try to understand why I’m doing this.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Leonard Lawton
March 4, 1973
Dear Jillian,
So we’re back to letter-writing. I’m disappointed, but if this is the way you want it, then this is the way it’ll be.
I thought you loved me, but I’m not sure anymore. Perhaps you care for me, but not in the same way as you loved the boy from your hometown who died in Vietnam. You didn’t think I knew about him, did you? I never mentioned it, but you talk to him in your sleep. It took me a while to put two and two together. I loved you enough to hope that eventually you’d be willing to let go of the past and live in the here and now. Apparently I’ve been wasting my time.
I’m sorry, Jillian, for believing you’d want to marry me. Obviously I was wrong. Perhaps some day you’ll have a clearer picture of what you really want in life.
I agree. It would be best for all concerned if we no longer saw each other.
Thom
March 10, 1973