Tinley Reat

Via pluck and ferocity, a scrappy orphan escapes horror to ultimately be “raised by a village” in Depression-era Alabama.

As Tinley Reat waited for her friends to hail a cab, she stepped to the newsstand. The Friday, December 4, 1942 issue of the Mobile-Press Register caught her eye. She silently read its headline, Twenty B-24s Bomb Naples. Tinley’s watch was in the shop, so she glanced up at the Battle House Hotel’s clock. Hanging above the hotel’s entrance, it glowed like a full moon against the dark sky. They had gathered between five and six for drinks at the hotel’s bar; it was now almost seven.

Barry called, “Tin, we have one; you ready?” She hurried towards Petty Officers Barry Owens and Gary Haber. They grinned proudly in their black winter uniforms, waiting for their “little sister” to slip into the back seat. Tinley gleefully bumped her boarding house friend Sybil Amherst. Sybil snickered and hip-bumped back from her corner. Gary hopped in beside Tinley; the cabbie invited Barry to ride in the front passenger seat.

Later, in their crowded taxi, Tinley feigned interest in the conversation while scanning the sidewalks. At a stoplight, Tinley watched a skinny adolescent girl trail behind a pair of boisterous boys. Illuminated by a streetlight, the girl’s eyes met Tinley’s gaze. Their souls enjoined; Tinley was thirteen again, and she was back in 1935.