Secret Life of Bees

By Sue Monk Kidd

I live alone with my father T. Ray and one of the women who used to work in the peach orchard named Rosaleen. My mother was killed when I was a child. I found a box of her things the other night: a picture of the two of us, a pair of gloves tight on my hands, and a block of wood with a picture pasted to the front and a town name written on the back. It was a picture that appeared to be the Virgin Mary, only she was a colored woman. I'd never heard of the town of Tiburon, South Carolina either.
Big image
Rosaleen was supposed to register to vote today. She'd spent a lot of time practicing writing her name so she could, but on our walk there these men were harassing her. I told Rosaleen she should just leave it alone, but feisty Rosaleen had to spit her snuff on their shoes. They started to beat her and somehow or another we ended up in jail. T.Ray came to get me right away; Rosaleen had to be admitted into the hospital. He told me more than likely those men would come back and kill her. I couldn't let that happen and so my journey to Tiburon began with breaking Rosaleen out and running away.
Big image
I had no idea who or what I was looking for, but as soon as I saw a jar of Black Madonna Honey with the same picture from my mother's things I knew we were in the right place. We couldn't buy anything but some take out food, so I slipped some snuff for Rosaleen and a jar of this honey after asking the store clerk where this honey was from. Looks like we're headed down the road to a gigantic pink house. Who knows what awaits us there.