Authors: More Than Memory
Dorothy Garlock (25 page)
“Well, I guess I’m ridiculous.”
“You’ve been different since
she
came back.” Meredith put her hand on the door handle. “You’re foolish to think you have a chance of getting her back when she can have a man like Norris Smithfield. Wake up, Lute. She’s sleeping with him. Why do you think
he’s spending his time with her? Good Lord, you are naive.”
she
came back.” Meredith put her hand on the door handle. “You’re foolish to think you have a chance of getting her back when she can have a man like Norris Smithfield. Wake up, Lute. She’s sleeping with him. Why do you think
he’s spending his time with her? Good Lord, you are naive.”
Lute opened his door, then turned to look at her when the light came on. She had a sneer on her lips, and her expression was one of suppressed anger.
“I’m sorry, Meredith.”
“I’m not. I’m glad to find out you’re not the man I thought you were before I wasted any more time on you.”
Lute walked her to the door. She went inside without another word and slammed the door. On his way back to the farm, Lute wondered at his state of mind. When he asked Meredith out tonight, he had fully intended to explore the possibility of asking her to marry him. He had to do something to get his life back on the right track. Even before he saw Nelda with Norris, he knew that he couldn’t do it.
• • •
After Norris brought her home, Nelda stood on the back steps and watched Kelly frolic in the fresh snow. She doubted that he would run away if she turned him loose—he seemed to prefer lying on the warm rug beside the hot-air register these days—but she didn’t want to risk having to get the car out to go look for him should he get it in his head to leave the farm yard.
She hugged her arms to herself. It was a beautiful, still night. The moonlight and the snow made the yard light unnecessary. She called Kelly in and prepared to turn in for the night.
Later, standing before the bathroom mirror, applying cream to her face, her mind kept returning to Lute and the smug smile on the face of Miss Home
Ec when she waved from Lute’s truck. Thank goodness she hadn’t seen them during the ball game.
Ec when she waved from Lute’s truck. Thank goodness she hadn’t seen them during the ball game.
Oh, Baby, Baby
, she thought desperately, resting her hand on her slightly rounded stomach,
if not for you I just might lose my mind
.
, she thought desperately, resting her hand on her slightly rounded stomach,
if not for you I just might lose my mind
.
Nelda turned out the lights and went up to bed, Kelly at her heels. She tried to get interested in a novel but gave up and laid it aside.
The secret of her pregnancy was so sweet in Nelda’s mind that it helped hold thoughts of Lute at bay. She was resigned to the fact that she couldn’t have him—that he desired her body, but didn’t, couldn’t love her whole self. So she made her plans carefully, pacing herself, knowing it would be necessary for her to leave Clear Lake the first part of February. She would make a business trip and never return.
Lying in bed, she heard the sound of cars on the road. They had unusually loud mufflers. She switched off the bedside lamp so she could stand at the window and watch them pass. To her surprise, the lead car turned up the lane toward her house, and the other followed.
Who would be coming this time of night? It was near midnight. She grabbed her flannel robe and slid her feet into slippers. The night-light burning in the hall was all she needed to see her way down the stairs. Kelly barked, and she put her hand on his head to quiet him. He growled, and she shushed him. Moving over to the back door, she tested it to be sure it was locked, then looked out. Two trucks were in the yard, their lights turned off. Nelda flipped the yard light on.
“Come join the party, sweetie-pie!” The voice was young and male.
“
Nelda babe, won’t cha come out tonight? Come out tonight, come out tonight. To dance by the light of the moon!
” Laughter and shouts followed off-key singing.
Nelda babe, won’t cha come out tonight? Come out tonight, come out tonight. To dance by the light of the moon!
” Laughter and shouts followed off-key singing.
“Come on out, come on out, come on out—” The figures moving around the yard began to chant.
One of the revelers tipped a bottle to his lips and another jerked it out of his hand. The yard light shining on the snow made the area almost as bright as day. The party was made up of boys of high-school age and older.
Nelda was nervous, but not terribly so until one of the youths came up to the porch and perched on the steps. Another came up onto the porch and sat on the bench beside the door. Then her heart jumped in her throat and began a wild gallop. They acted as if they had been there before. Could one or more of them have been inside the house? Taken the blanket from the porch? Did they have a hidden way of getting in?
She backed away from the kitchen door and felt along the cabinets for the telephone. She lifted the receiver and dialed the operator.
“Operator, will you ring the county sheriff for me? There are intruders in my yard. I’d look up the number but I don’t dare turn on the light.”
“I understand. Hold on.”
The phone was answered after one ring. “Sheriff.”
“This is Nelda Hanson, and I live on the Eli Hansen farm, one mile north of Clear Lake on County Road
G. There’s a gang of ten or twelve boys in my yard, and I think they’re drunk.”
G. There’s a gang of ten or twelve boys in my yard, and I think they’re drunk.”
“Have they tried to get in the house?”
“No, but they came up onto the porch.”
“You don’t need to be alarmed. It’s just some kids having a party. The high-school basketball team won tonight. One more win, and they’ll play in the state championships.”
“I know all that, but they have no business on my property.”
“Kids are having parties all around Clear Lake. I don’t have a car in your vicinity. You’ll be all right. Keep the door locked.”
“Thanks a lot!” Nelda slammed down the phone.
“One, two, three . . . charge!” The voice came from the bench on the porch.
“You guys are nuts! Are you tryin’ to scare that woman?”
“Shut up, chicken,” someone yelled.
“Hey, pretty woman . . . come out and play—”
Now three of them were on the porch. Nelda became so frightened she was almost sick. She picked up the phone again and started to feel her way around the dial to call Norris, but couldn’t remember the number.
There was a banging on the door. Kelly set up a frenzy of barking. What to do, whom could she call? One thing was sure, she couldn’t depend on the sheriff. As drunk as these kids were they just might break in, hurt her, in turn hurt her baby! Fear as cold as ice traveled the length of her spine. She hurried up the
stairs to her room and got the gun from the drawer beside the bed and slipped it into the pocket of her robe.
stairs to her room and got the gun from the drawer beside the bed and slipped it into the pocket of her robe.
When she reached the kitchen again, Kelly was still barking. The boys were bunched in front of the back steps, talking in low voices. Suddenly the huddle broke up, and they began to pound each other on the back. Several more of them came up onto the porch. One of the boys seemed to be trying to talk the others into leaving. They laughed at him and finally took him down and rolled him in the snow.
Without hesitation, she went to the phone again.
“Operator, this is Nelda Hanson again. I’m so scared. The sheriff won’t come. Please call Lute Hanson, on Route Two. He’s my nearest neighbor.”
The phone rang four times before Lute answered.
“This is Nelda. Two truckloads of boys are in my yard and on my porch. They’re drunk and pounding on the door. The sheriff won’t come, but I’ve got a gun, and I’ll shoot the first one that tries to come into my house.” By the time she finished her voice was shrill.
“My God! Don’t do anything. If you think they’re coming in, go to the basement and get into the bin where your grandpa kept coal. Before they find you, I’ll be there. For God’s sake be careful with that gun!”
She held the phone for a few seconds after it went dead. Tears ran down her cheeks. She hated calling Lute, but what else could she do? She stood with her back to the basement door, her knees trembling, her hand on the gun in her pocket. Kelly stood cowering against her legs. Loud laughter came from the porch!
“Pretty la . . . dy, come on . . . out and play!” Was
it the voice of the kid from the filling station, the one she’d put down when he flirted with her?
it the voice of the kid from the filling station, the one she’d put down when he flirted with her?
“Mama’s baby boy’s scared he’s goin’ get his ass in a pile of shit. Scared baby boy!” They were harassing one of the kids. “You can’t go ’cause I got the keys—”
She edged toward the door, then backed away when she saw a face pressed against the glass on the door.
“Oh, Lute, please hurry.
“Here come some more kids. Godamighty! Look at that fool drive.”
Was it Lute or more kids joining the party? Fearfully, she darted a glance out the door. A black truck skidded to a stop, and she heard a shout.
“Hey! Hey!” Lute’s voice.
Her relief was quickly replaced with fear for him. He was one against a dozen or more! She gripped the small gun and peered through the glass pane on the door. Only two of the youths remained on the porch. One of them said, “Lute Hanson. How’d he—”
Lute had shot out of the truck.
“What the hell’s goin’ on here?” he roared.
“Hi, Lute. We was just havin’ a little beer bust.”
“We wasn’t hurting’ nothin’, Lute, we—”
“We were just horsin’ around.”
“Horsing around on someone else’s property is a good way to get your heads blown off,” Lute said angrily. “Now get the hell out of here. If you’ve got to act like fools, do it somewhere else. This woman thinks you’re a gang of hoodlums.”
Two of the boys climbed into the back of a pickup. Others began to follow.
“Scatter!” Lute said forcefully. “We’ll talk about this after you’ve sobered up.”
“Shit, Lute! If the coach finds out about this, we’ll get thrown off the team,” one of them whined.
“You knew the rules when you got tanked up and came out here.”
“Yeah, but—”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
Nelda turned on the kitchen light, then unlocked the door and stepped out onto the porch.
“Lute,” she called. “I want to see who they are. I want to know if I’ve seen them before, and you can bet I’ll remember if I see them again.”
“Let it go, Nelda,” Lute said briskly. Then to the boys, “Get out of here, and count yourselves lucky.”
Nelda went back into the kitchen and sat down because she feared her legs wouldn’t hold her any longer. She heard the trucks leaving. She felt sick. Reaction set in, and she began to shake.
C
hapter
F
ifteen
hapter
F
ifteen
L
UTE OPENED THE DOOR AND
K
ELLY WAS THERE
to greet him, obviously delighted, wiggling appreciatively when Lute fondled his ears. It took several seconds for Nelda’s eyes to focus on his face. He stood just inside the door, his hair tousled, a faint stubble of beard on his cheeks.
UTE OPENED THE DOOR AND
K
ELLY WAS THERE
to greet him, obviously delighted, wiggling appreciatively when Lute fondled his ears. It took several seconds for Nelda’s eyes to focus on his face. He stood just inside the door, his hair tousled, a faint stubble of beard on his cheeks.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Thanks for coming. I tried to get the sheriff to come out, but he didn’t seem to think it was much of an emergency.”
“I know those kids,” Lute said slowly. “I can’t believe they meant to break into the house. They’d been drinking a bit, raising a little hell, and I doubt if they gave a thought to scaring you. I’ll admit it was a dumb idea, but good Lord, Nelda, what if you’d shot one of them?”
Nelda began to laugh, a little hysterical. “You and the sheriff! This is rich . . . really rich.”
“Calm down—”
“Don’t tell me to calm down you . . . you horse’s ass! Can’t you get it through your thick head that
this is my property, and they had no right to come here in the middle of the night and scare me half to death!” she shouted.
this is my property, and they had no right to come here in the middle of the night and scare me half to death!” she shouted.
“You don’t need to shout.”
“I’ll shout if I want to. Your good old country boys were just horsin’ around, huh? Let me tell you something, Mr. Lute Know-It-All Hanson, fifty percent of all crimes committed in the United States are by boys that age.”
“They didn’t commit a crime, Nelda, unless you think trespassing is a crime.”
“If anyone tries breaking into my house, they’re in for a surprise,” she said as if he hadn’t spoken. “At least I could call the police in Chicago, and they wouldn’t treat me like an hysterical old maid!” she shouted. “Now get the hell out of my house.”
Lute stood quietly and listened to the torrent of words spilling from her mouth.
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