Dorothy Garlock (29 page)

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Authors: More Than Memory

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T
HE MORNING AFTER HER SHOPPING TRIP WITH
Rhetta, Earl Hutchinson called.
“How did it go with your father? He arrived several days early. I had hoped to be able to prepare you for his visit.”
“I was shocked to see him, but he doesn’t frighten me anymore.”
“Was Lute there? I called him when I couldn’t get in touch with you. I would have come out to give you support, but I had to be in court.”
“He was here.” She implied by her tone that she wished he hadn’t been.
“I’m sorry if by calling Lute I overstepped—”
“—It was all right . . . this time. Lute is no longer in my life, Mr. Hutchinson, and I’d rather keep my relationship with him on a strictly business basis. He rents my land, and that’s it.”
“I see. I was under the impression that you . . . er . . . maybe were getting back together.”
“I don’t know where you could have heard that. It’s the farthest thing from my mind.”
“I made a mistake, and I’m sorry.”
“By the way, I’ll be leaving after the first of the year. Will you get some figures together for me? I need to know what income I could expect if I kept the farm versus the income the proceeds from the sale of the farm would earn in interest.”
“I can give you some approximate figures.”
“That will be good enough.”
After her talk with the lawyer she felt relieved. She had started the ball rolling.
Later in the morning while she was sitting at the kitchen table looking over the pattern book and trying to visualize some of the small garments made with the yarn she had bought, the phone rang again. She picked it up thinking Mr. Hutchinson was calling back.
“Hello.”
“Slut . . . whore . . . ya uppity, fuckin’ bitch. I’ll get you—”
The angry voice shouted in her ear before she could slam down the phone. Her heart began to race until she thought it would gallop out of her chest. She pressed her hands tightly together and brought them beneath her chin. For a long while she sat with her chin pressed to her interlaced fingers.
I’ll get you
—This time he had threatened. The calls were being made by someone who really hated her. Why? What had she done to cause someone around here to dislike her so much? The question charged through the confusion in Nelda’s mind. She wandered around the house feeling alone and
menaced, and wondering how she was going to fill her time during the holiday season.
It was three days until Christmas. She had mailed cards to acquaintances in Chicago and one to the stepmother who had helped her leave Virginia. Nelda would be giving no presents and didn’t expect to get any. It didn’t occur to her to feel sorry for herself. She was used to being alone on holidays. The only Christmases she had known amid a loving family, with a tree and presents on Christmas morning, were during the time she had spent here in this house with her grandparents.
Since she had lost Becky, Christmas had not meant much to her. She looked around her house, devoid of any decorations, and tried to keep the pain in her heart at bay. She would be by herself again this Christmas Eve with only Kelly to keep her company as she had been many times before.
But something was due to happen. Nelda would not have believed it if she had been told that this Christmas Eve there would be a child in the house. A child expecting a visit from Santa Claus.
• • •
The sky had turned cloudy, and in the late afternoon a few intermittent snowflakes began to fall. After taking note of the supplies in the cupboard, Nelda began making a batch of cookies for herself and Kelly. She liked to bake, but it wasn’t much fun baking for one person. The cookies were cooling on the rack and she was trying to decide on what type of icing to use as decoration when the phone rang.
The ring was startling in the quiet kitchen. Nelda
looked at it fearfully. It wasn’t Norris; he was in Chicago. She was sure it wasn’t Lute, or Rhetta. Would Mr. Hutchinson be calling this late? After four rings she lifted the phone with one hand and the whistle in the other.
“Hello.”
“Nelda . . . this is Linda. I’m so glad . . . you’re home.”
“Linda, what is it?”
“I hated to call you, but I don’t know what to do. It’s getting dark, and Eric is cold—”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the Shell station. Kurt . . . Kurt is drunk and—I was afraid he’d hurt Eric.” Linda began to sob.
“Linda, listen to me. Do you want me to come get you?”
“I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”
“I’ll come, Linda, if you want me to.”
“Eddie, he’s the man here at the station, said that I can hide in the back room until you get here.”
“Is your husband looking for you?”
“Eddie says he’s been by here twice.”
“Linda, stay right there. I’ll come get you and bring you out here.”
“Nelda, thank you, thank you. What?” Nelda could hear her talking to someone. “Eddie will raise the big door so you can drive in like you were having work done on your car.”
“All right. I’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes.”
Nelda hung up the phone, put on her boots and
coat, then went through the house and turned on a few more lights. Kelly was watching her.
“Want to go in the car?”
At the sound of the magic words, the dog raced to the door. Nelda flipped on the yard light, locked the door behind them, and put the key in her pocket. She was immeasurably glad to have her canine friend with her when Kelly, who had run the yard and sniffed around, waited for her at the garage door. Had there been one strange scent to follow, the dog would have been after it like a shot.
Nelda wasn’t used to driving at night on a snow-covered road, especially with the flakes coming down. She drove slowly and carefully into town, conscious that homes, businesses, and streets were glowing with Christmas lights but not really seeing them. She crossed Main Street and turned into the drive of the Shell station. The big door came up, and she drove into the station bay. The door closed immediately and Nelda got out of the car.
“She’s in the storage room. It’s warmer in there,” Eddie said, leading the way.
“Oh, Linda, honey—” Nelda exclaimed when she saw her friend’s eyes swollen from crying. Linda had on a rather light coat, but the little boy who huddled close to her was warmly dressed in a one-piece suit with a hood.
“I didn’t want to get you involved in this, but I didn’t have anyone else to call who wouldn’t turn right around and call Kurt.”
“I’m glad you phoned. You can stay with me until you decide what to do. Hi, Eric. I bet you’re
tired. Do you want to come home with me? My dog would love to have a little boy to play with.”
Nelda helped Linda into the front seat of the car. She held Eric on her lap. Kelly was wiggling all over the back seat and making whiney noises.
“Settle down, Kelly. When we get home you can get acquainted with Eric.”
“Mrs. Hanson,” Eddie warned, after Nelda closed the door and was walking around to the driver’s side. “Be careful. Kurt Branson can be mean when he’s drunk. I’ll go out and take a look up and down the streets. When I open the door, back out and take the dark streets out of town. He’ll be looking for her to be uptown here someplace.”
“I will, and thank you, Eddie.”
“Linda’s a nice woman and hadn’t ought to be treated that way.”
When the small man went out into the snowy night, Nelda slid under the wheel and spoke confidently to Linda.
“Eddie is looking around. Don’t worry we’ll be all right. Hey, Eric. I’ve got some fresh cookies at my house. Are you hungry?”
The child stared at her with wide frightened eyes.
Poor little fellow
, Nelda thought.
What must be running through his mind?
The big service-station door went up, and Nelda started the motor and backed out. She waved at Eddie, who stood ready to lower the door, and drove down past Easter Super Value to a street that would take her to the north part of town. Linda looked behind
them several times to see if they were being followed.
The snow was coming down in big flakes, but the windshield wiper was doing its job. Linda didn’t talk, aware that Nelda needed to concentrate on driving. Soon they were out of town and traveling north on the gravel road. Nelda peered into the night, fearing that she would miss the corner where she should turn.
“We’re about there,” she said with relief when she passed a familiar landmark.
Snow was beginning to pile up in the lane leading to the house when they reached it, and in an hour it would probably be impassable. With relief, she turned into the lighted yard.
“I’ll let Kelly out. If there is anyone around, he’ll know it.” Kelly sniffed out the area and, after relieving himself in several familiar spots, was ready to get into the warm house.
“I’ll take you and Eric inside, then put the car in the garage.”
When Nelda and Kelly came back into the house, their heads and shoulders were sprinkled with snow. Linda was sitting on a kitchen chair with her child on her lap. They had not taken off their coats.
“Let me have your coats.” Nelda hung hers on the hooks her grandpa had put beside the back door and reached for Linda’s and Eric’s. “Are you hungry?”
“Eric hasn’t had anything since noon. He’s tired, too. He had to walk a long way.”
“The bathroom is here” — Nelda gestured toward
the door—“if you want to put a wet cloth on your face. I’m going to run upstairs and open the door and the heat register to the bedroom you will use. As soon as it warms up, you can put him to bed. Would you like a cup of soup and some cookies, honey?” she said to Eric. “I’ll fix it as soon as I come back.”
Linda and Eric ate, but very little. Afterward, Nelda made up the bed in her grandparents’ room with flannel sheets and warm wool blankets. She found a sweatshirt for Eric to sleep in and laid out a pair of her pajamas for Linda.
It’s nice having someone to take care of
.
Linda stayed with her son until he was asleep, then came down to the kitchen, where Nelda had hot spiced tea ready. They sat at the kitchen table.
“Thank you for letting us come here.”
Linda’s bruised cheek would be discolored by morning. Nelda reached across the table and clasped her trembling hand.
“Is this the first time he’s hit you?”
“He has never slapped me before. He was drunk when he went to work; his boss told him to leave. I think he was fired, although he didn’t say so.”
“Did you quarrel because of your wanting to go to nursing school?”
“Every time I mentioned it, he’d go into a rage. But this time it was something else. He was using the phone, and I wanted to know if he was going to meet someone to go ice fishing. I stood in the door and listened. He was calling someone a slut and a whore and said he was going to get her. I don’t know
who he was talking to, but he turned, saw me and slapped me.” Linda avoided her eyes.
Nelda’s breath stopped in her throat, and her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth as her mind absorbed the meaning of Linda’s words. Suddenly it was a relief to know her unknown enemy.
“Linda, look at me.” She shook Linda’s hand to get her attention. “Your husband was talking to me.”
Linda’s eyes remained on Nelda’s, her fingers tightened, and her unwilling lips formed words.
“No! Oh, no!”
“He has made at least a dozen calls, obscene calls, but today was the first time he threatened me.”
“Oh, Nelda, I’m . . . sorry.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Honey, it wasn’t your fault.”
“I . . . started this thing about wantin’ to be a nurse. He blamed you for putting ideas in my head.”
“He had to blame someone. Did he hit you in front of Eric?” Nelda asked.
“Yes. Eric was scared and began to cry. Kurt yelled for him to shut up; and when he didn’t, couldn’t, he said he was going to whip him. Nelda, if he had hit that child, I’d have killed him. I grabbed the deer rifle and told him to leave. He laughed at first, but finally went out to the car and sat there.”
“How did you get away?”
“I grabbed Eric’s snowsuit and my coat and went out the back door to the neighbors’. She saw that he had hit me, but she didn’t want to get involved. I went from place to place until I finally got to the Shell station.”
“Will your folks help you?”
“Oh, Nelda, you know what they’re like. My sister Janice would help, but she lives in Iowa City.”
“Do you want to get in touch with Mr. Hutchinson? He can get a restraining order to keep Kurt away from you and Eric.”
“That wouldn’t do any good. When Kurt is drunk, he doesn’t have any sense at all. I know that I can never go back to him now. It makes me sick to think that he’s been calling you and talkin’ nasty.”

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