by Linda Ellen
Sonny closed the door behind them as Louise slowly raised her eyes to encounter a room full of angry expressions. She swallowed as she tried to brace herself for the explosion.
*
Vic wandered the streets, blindly fuming and muttering to himself, eventually ending up at the river’s edge. He stood for the longest time, staring out at the expanse of the water and watching the setting sun reflect off the gentle waves.
He felt as if he had lost his best friend. Indeed…Louise wasn’t just the girl he was in love with…she’d become his whole world. So many people in his life had lied to him, cheated him, rejected him…but he had been convinced that Louise was different, that she was honest, and good, and worth his trust. That she was truly ‘the one’ who would help him fulfill his dreams. Now, he wondered if he would ever be able to trust anyone again. He realized he had misguidedly placed his whole confidence in a girl who had done nothing but deceive him. He had let down his defenses and given her his heart. How could I have been such a fool?
Images assailed his mind…Louise up on the stage singing like an angel…Louise kissing him with fiery passion…Louise giggling and smiling like a schoolgirl on the carousel…
Like a schoolgirl. The words made him shiver as he pictured himself languishing in a cell down at the county jail. When he thought of how many times the two of them had been locked in a passionate embrace and how much he had wanted to do more than just kiss and ‘pet’, his mind reeled. How could I have not known she was just a kid? How could I have fell for all the lies and half truths…all of her reasons why I couldn’t pick her up at the apartment – Daddy wants to rest, Mama’s in a bad mood, Billy’s sick, I’ll be staying over at Fleet’s…
Fleet! The thought made him suck in a breath. Is she just fifteen, too? Oh man…I gotta let Alec know…
Knocked totally off balance by the revelation, Vic’s world had turned upside down. Just the day before, he’d had a clear plan…find a job, save up a nest egg, ask his girl to be his bride, and live ‘happily ever after’. Now… Now one of his close friends was facing the possibility of prison, and he was teetering on the edge of falling into the same pit.
However, even as angry as he felt right then, he knew he was still hopelessly smitten with the lovely brunette. But therein lay the danger. Vic shook his head as he wondered fleetingly how many dumb saps were down there in the jail, shell-shocked and pondering how they had gotten themselves into such a mess.
The future had never seemed bleaker.
Finally, desperate for some kind of relief from the constant barrage of brooding introspection, he thought once again of his mentor and friend. Lifting his hands up to scrub at his face and rifle through his hair, he turned and trudged back toward town, hoping they would still be there by the time he arrived.
Some time later, he stood outside the tall, imposing edifice of the church, listening to the calming strains of what must have been a large pipe organ. The song seemed somewhat familiar, and it gave him a measure of comfort and reassurance, so that he stepped forward, grasped the door handle, and slipped silently inside. Stepping quietly on the slate floor in the foyer, he hesitantly entered the back of the huge, towering sanctuary, which was about half full of parishioners. He knew no one, and couldn’t see Irene or Betty anywhere. Doc was at the pulpit, his rich baritone leading the people in worship.
Vic eased down onto the far edge of a back pew and sat with his hands folded reverently in his lap, his eyes closed. As the congregation sang the soothing old hymn, he realized where he had heard it before. I Need Thee Every Hour… Miss Irene had sung it that terrible Black Sunday, when the electricity had gone off during the flood and the world felt like it was coming to an end. It seemed to have brought about good things that night… He hoped it would have the same effect again.
As the song ended, Doc dismissed the congregation and the people began to gather their things and exit, quietly talking among themselves. Vic was aware they were leaving, but kept his eyes shut, half afraid he would see disapproval or judgment in their glances. Several minutes later, he felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder and he opened his eyes to find Doc and Irene sitting in the pew directly ahead, smiling at him softly.
“Do you need help, son?” Doc asked gently.
At the look in his eyes, the hearts of the man and woman blanched. They could tell he was quite upset.
“What is it, Vic? Has something happened?” Irene murmured.
Vic wasn’t sure how to start. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing there. All he knew was that he did need help sorting things out, making sense of his life that now seemed like pieces of a puzzle someone had tossed haphazardly onto the floor.
All at once, the words began to spill from his lips and he told them everything…his thoughts, his feelings, his actions – and hers. The pendulum of his emotions swayed wildly. At times his words were angry and bitter, filled with the emotion of her ‘betrayal’. Other times they were soft and loving as he told them of his feelings for the young…young…brunette.
At last, spent, he sat with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, as his friends hovered on either side. As their eyes met over his head, they knew he was at a precipice and much depended upon the advice they would attempt to give him.
Doc closed his eyes and tilted his head back, one hand gently at the nape of Vic’s neck, as he murmured a heartfelt prayer for help to the Almighty. His prayer was succinct, asking God to look down with mercy upon their young friend, and to show him the way, and show them how to help. He reminded the Lord that they were looking through the glass ‘darkly’, and asked Him to make everything clear and the crooked paths straight.
When the prayer ended, Vic took in a deep breath, finding that he did somehow feel a bit better, though he was afraid to put too much stock in that just yet.
“Son, what would be your heart’s desire right now?” Doc asked him.
Vic thought for a moment, trying to analyze his own feelings. “I dunno…I guess I wish she hadn’t done it…or maybe to just be able to forget her.”
Irene spoke up just then. “Now Vic,” she began softly, “perhaps this is not as black and white as it looks.” He turned his head to meet her eyes as she continued. “Granted, what she did was wrong. Lying is wrong. But…from what you’ve told us, it seems her main reason was to keep you interested…to buy herself some time. After all…she won’t be fifteen forever… For the most part, Louise seems to be a good girl…she loves her family…perhaps she got caught up in the excitement of the moment, meeting you, and once she started with the ruse of you thinking she was older, she didn’t know how to get out of it. The fact that she broke down in tears when the truth came out, instead of reacting with belligerence, says a lot…”
Vic nodded, her reasoning making sense to his shattered thoughts. The main thing in his mind was that he was afraid to try to be with her again…and from the look on her father’s face, that seemed a bit doubtful.
“Perhaps…” Doc murmured, pausing. “Perhaps some time apart would do you both some good. Is there anywhere you could go?”
“Well…I been thinkin’ about…tryin’ to go back in the C’s,” Vic admitted, and indeed, the thought had been playing through his mind since he had divulged some of his past to Louise on the boat.
The gregarious pastor flashed his infectious smile. “I might be able to help in that regard. Let me make a few phone calls and see what I can do.”
After another prayer and several more minutes of conversation, Vic finally walked out of the church feeling his load was quite a bit lighter. With easier steps, he made his way back to the Alder’s apartment.
*
That night, Louise cried herself to sleep. The harsh words and stinging reprimands refused to stop echoing in her mind, which added to her own voice of self-recrimination.
Lilly had been the angriest; she had grilled her daughter for what seemed like hours, with her voice raised to a shrill pitch, as she demanded details on how
this subterfuge had been accomplished. Truthfully, part of Lilly’s anger was because her pride was stung. She felt she had been made to look a fool, having believed all of the fabrications that enabled Louise to sneak around with a man six years her senior. Louise’s friendship with Fleet, of course, would come to a screeching halt. She had been too trusting of her ‘always obedient’ daughter. Sneeringly she accused Louise of allowing Vic to take liberties, as ‘all young men are prone to do’, and stubbornly refused to believe Louise’s vows that such a thing had not occurred.
Edna had managed a few more digs, even resorting to calling her sister an outright ‘slut’, to which Willis had quietly stepped in. He had ordered Louise’s siblings out of the apartment while the parents dealt with their wayward daughter. So for the duration, Sonny, Edna, and Billy sat on the stairs, listening to muffled reprimands, and feeling a mixture of emotions toward their errant sister. Edna seethed with anger and not a small amount of jealousy that Louise, in her way of reasoning, had somehow managed to ‘steal’ Vic Matthews away from her. Sonny felt empathy toward his sister, as he had, on occasion, been in the ‘hot seat’ himself and he knew it wasn’t a pleasant place to be. Billy mainly felt disenchantment. The little boy had always held Louise in such high regard, thinking she could do no wrong. Now, his sister seemed like a bad girl and he wondered if the family would ever be the same.
But perhaps Willis was the most disillusioned of them all. He had unfairly thought of Louise as his ‘perfect’ child, thinking he would never need to worry about her getting herself into trouble. Or ever need to discipline her as he had her older sister and brother on more than one occasion. He felt almost personally insulted, as if Louise’s subterfuge had been aimed against him. Down deep, he felt a bit responsible, thinking that if he hadn’t been working in Bowling Green, absent all week long, sometimes two weeks at a time, he might have been able to see what was happening.
Everyone seemed to think that Louise would soon begin to show her ‘soiled’ state and turn up pregnant. The only reason they didn’t immediately march her down to police headquarters to swear out a warrant on Vic was Louise’s passionate words in his defense.
Louise had never felt so humiliated, low down, and dirty. In spite of the fact that she hadn’t done the worst of what they were accusing, she knew she had done quite enough. Her parents had never been angry with her before, at least not on this scale, and it was a feeling she never wanted to experience again.
Yet, her heart felt shattered in a thousand pieces and now, she had no one from which to receive comfort. She had lost her best friend in the process. Picturing the hatred and disgust in Vic’s eyes made her feel physically sick. Naively, she had imagined that if she could just hold out long enough, even to her sixteenth birthday, that he would somehow think it funny that she had kept her true age from him all that time. That they would laugh about it together. Oh, how wrong could a person be?
Deep into the wee hours of the morning, she finally had managed to drift off to sleep, though sharing a bed with her sister had never been more uncomfortable. Louise finally had to resort to jamming her palms on her ears to shut out her sister’s angry hissing comments. That surely didn’t help her already lacerated heart, but added to her feelings of shame and remorse.
All in all, Louise was sure that her ‘Prince Charming’ would never darken her doorstep again.
And she had no one to blame but herself.
‡
CHAPTER 21
When it Rains it Pours
A week went by. Then two. Then three. They had been the longest weeks of Louise’s life. If she hadn’t already felt remorse over the fact that she had done wrong, and sinned by lying and deceiving everyone, she surely would by the frosty treatment of her family. She’d been grounded to the apartment and basically relegated to a feeling not unlike Cinderella since the night Vic had knocked on their door.
Vic… Just the thought of him caused Louise physical pain. She hadn’t heard from him. Not that she expected to…just hoped. But as angry as he had been, the things he had said, and the look of rage and disgust after she’d slapped him…Louise hadn’t blamed him for staying away and washing his hands of her. She had deceived him. Deceived them all. Feeling like the lowest piece of scum on the earth, she wondered what, if anything, she could do to make amends.
School had started up again and all of her friends seemed to be having the time of their lives. But her ‘life’ was the farthest thing from exciting. She felt out of place and not like a ‘schoolgirl’ anymore. Mixing with the kids at the Neighborhood House didn’t appeal to her either, and she hadn’t even been by to see them once since the play. Now, she was an odd hybrid of girl and woman. No longer one…but not yet the other, either. As she sat at her desk in history class, barely listening to the teacher drone on and on about the Spanish-American War, she stared out the window, reliving her and Vic’s enchanted summer.
Vic…those dimples…those mesmerizing brown eyes…the timbre of his voice when he murmured something risqué in her ear…the way it felt to be in his arms, dancing, snuggling…kissing. Oh the thrill of those lips meshing with hers, and the heady taste of his tongue sensually roaming her mouth. She even missed the simple act of breathing in the wonderfully familiar scent of him, a combination of his masculine essence and the brand of aftershave he always used. There had been many times throughout the long months when she had caught him gazing at her as if he had been on the verge of saying those treasured three words she had waited all summer to hear. Though they swam in his eyes, somehow they never made it past his lips. Did he love her? She sighed dejectedly. If he ever did, he surely didn’t now. It’s my fault. How could I have been so dumb, so stupid, thinking I wouldn’t get caught…thinking he would laugh when he found out…
“Hey Louise,” a whisper interrupted her mental chastising.
She glanced over at the teacher; a reed thin, bespectacled shrew named Agnes Glasscock, and then turned her head toward the girl in the seat behind her as she whispered back, “Yeah?”
“You wanna go to the malt shop after school? My older brother’s gonna pick us up in his swell car. Some of the other kids are going,” the cute blonde haired, blue-eyed girl, Helen Blankenbaker, whispered as she made sure the teacher wasn’t looking their way.
Louise gave a small shake of her head, whispering back, “Can’t. I’m gr… I gotta go straight home…help with supper. Thanks anyway.”
“Suit yourself,” the girl shrugged, thinking what a ‘goodie two-shoes’ Louise was, and sat back in her chair pretending to listen to the lesson.
Louise turned her head back toward the front, focusing on the open history book on her desk, but her mind was seeing a malt shop…the booth at the back corner…Vic eating French fries and listening in rapt attention as she told him about her day, the play, and anything that came to mind. She pictured his face up close as they shared a fry, and the moment when he tried to steal a kiss, but she was too shy and turned her head with an embarrassed giggle. He had chuckled good-naturedly and mumbled, “You’re cute…”
Forcing herself to breathe in through her nose, she worked hard to halt the moisture that was threatening to fill her eyes. It wouldn’t do to start crying right there in class! You’ve cried enough tears to start another flood. Stop it, Mary Louise! She scolded herself, determinedly training her eyes on the teacher and striving to commit to memory the dates she was mentioning. Slowly, the emotion retreated like the swollen Ohio after the inundation, and she was able to make it through the rest of the class…and the day.
*
That afternoon, Louise walked along the street hugging her books to her chest as she headed home from school. Her hair blowing loose in the breeze, as she hadn’t thought about tying a scarf over it, she allowed herself to once again get lost in daydreams. Billy was walking next to her, having met up with her at the juncture between their two schools, and was talking a mile a minute about something that had happened at recess.
“Hey!
Louise!” a girl’s voice jarred her consciousness, causing Louise to turn with a start toward a 1935 dark green Ford Phaeton convertible that was slowing down at her side. It was Helen Blankenbaker.
“Hey, Helen,” Louise returned half-heartedly, glancing at the car full of schoolmates who just the year before had been her friends. Having grown up with most of them, they had shared many laughs and good times. She knew they were probably on their way to the malt shop and for a moment, the nostalgia of that weighed heavy.
“C’mere, my brother wants to say Hi,” the girl urged, motioning Louise closer to the car’s window. Louise acquiesced and stepped over, Billy hovering close, and bent her head a bit to be able to see the driver’s face and utter a greeting. When she did, her eyes opened large and she stared, speechless. There, behind the wheel, sat the man who had twice insisted on dancing with her – the man who had identified himself as ‘T.J.’
“We meet again,” he commented smoothly, enjoying that she seemed to be tongue-tied.
“Y…you’re Helen’s brother?” she stammered, totally unprepared for such a development. She had thought she would never see the guy again. And he thought she was twenty-one! Oh man, what a can of worms! Louise realized that, once again, her actions were coming back around to bite her.
“You two know each other?” Helen queried, suspicious. Her mind was spinning as she tried to imagine how her brother and her classmate could have met, why T.J. seemed so interested, and why he had insisted on pulling over to talk to Louise just then.
“Yep,” he answered both questions with a friendly grin. “Hop in, I’ll treat you to a malt.”
Louise shook her head, feeling a mixture of regret and relief that she couldn’t. “I can’t. I have to be home…”
“You’re a real Mama’s girl, aren’t you,” Helen purred. “I bet you never did anything wrong in your whole life.”
Louise clamped her lips closed and shot the girl a look, thinking there was no way she would want that busybody to know her business. She thought of Helen as the ‘Town Crier’. Telling her something was like publishing it in the Louisville Journal!