by Harper Lin
Becky’s heart took comfort in that until she saw movement behind Mr. Tobin. It was off in the distance a piece, but it was there. Becky was sure she was looking at Leelee. The woman with the scarf wrapped around her head was back there. Becky left her father’s side to go to the corner of the porch and look. Mr. Tobin paid no attention to her. She stared hard into the darkness and saw the mysterious woman.
Leelee was crawling on her hands and knees like a dog looking for a place to relieve itself, back and forth, back and forth, until suddenly she stopped. After folding herself onto her knees, she looked in Becky’s direction and pointed a long, bony arm.
Becky squared her shoulders and stared back. Her heart was racing, but she wasn’t going to show any fear. She couldn’t. If Becky was the reason Mr. Tobin was here, and there was no thinking otherwise, then she was going to have to face the music—or, like Cecelia had said, find their weakness. But that was going to be easier said than done.
“I’ve bought up what’s left of Ruthmeyer’s property. That’s my property now. I hold the bank note that says so. If anyone from this here plantation thinks they can set foot on my property, they’ll find themselves in a Chicago overcoat. I mean anybody, even that daughter of yours. I’ve heard she’s a snoop and claims she talks to ghosts. Sounds like a candidate for the booby-hatch, if you ask me,” he hissed before spitting on the ground.
“Mr. Tobin, you’ve made your point. Now get off my land, or you’ll be on the receiving end of my shotgun.”
Several of the men at the party, including Stephen Penbroke, stepped up and stood by Judge in support.
Becky looked to her mother, who was standing in the doorway. She was embarrassed by what Mr. Tobin had said about her. Her mother tried so hard to have Becky blend in. But Becky didn’t feel as scared as she had that afternoon. She was angry.
“You think you can threaten me?” Mr. Tobin shouted. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with! If you think I’m scared of the likes of you, you couldn’t be more wrong! I’m saying now to all these folks here that Judge Mackenzie comes from a no-good family, and I’ll beat you like a dog if you set one foot on my property! Like a dog!” He was like a wild animal.
“And I’m telling you to get off my land, or I’ll have you thrown off!” Judge shouted, his voice echoing over the field. Becky was sure she heard the rustling of the tobacco leaves from her father’s booming voice.
Earl Tobin sneered and pointed at Judge. He muttered something under his breath and swaggered off into the darkness. Becky watched him and waited for Leelee to join him, but she never did. She had disappeared, and he walked alone somewhere.
“I’m sorry about that, folks,” Judge said. “Everyone, refill your glasses, and crank up that Victrola, Kitty. It’s early, and we’ve still got another two or three neighbors to pay us a visit.”
Everyone laughed, and within minutes, the entire crowd had forgotten about Earl Tobin. Everyone but Becky.
“Daddy?” She took her father by his sleeve and pulled him toward her.
“Becky, don’t you fret yourself over what that man says,” Judge said, smoothing Becky’s hair. “He drinks his own moonshine. He’s not right in his head. I’m sure he believes the world is out to get him, and now that his favorite enemy is gone, he’s got to find a new one.”
“You know he brews moonshine?” Becky asked. “How do you know that?”
“Oh, some of the people around town have mentioned it,” Judge replied.
“The same people that say his wife was having an affair with Mr. Ruthmeyer?”
“Some of them.” Judge smiled but looked sad. “Not everyone has things as good as we do. Mr. Tobin isn’t a bad man. He’s just lost. It’s unfortunate.” Judge looked at his daughter. “That’s a pretty dress.”
“Martha picked it out for me. Daddy, I saw Mr. Tobin’s moonshine still. I went looking, and I think he knows it was me who was out there.” Becky felt a wave of relief wash over her as she unloaded the burden, hoping that might help the situation.
“Now what in the world would make you do such a fool thing? Becky, those moonshiners are not gentlemen. You might as well have found the man’s life savings in cash dollars—that’s how they view that white lightning. Had he been in an intoxicated state of mind, he could have killed you.” Judge frowned. “Well, I guess it’s too late to make amends. Mr. Tobin seemed to be rather agitated, and I don’t think anything would have appeased him.”
“I saw some strange things over there.” Becky started to speak, but Stephen Penbroke sauntered up to Judge with his hand extended.
“Mr. Mackenzie, might I borrow Becky for just a few minutes?”
“By all means, Stephen,” Judge said, shaking Stephen’s hand before giving Becky a gentle nudge and leaving to join Kitty inside the house.
“Well, that was some show,” Stephen said. “Yeah. Well, you know how men who drink their own home brew can be. It pickles the brain.”
Becky gave a chuckle, still looking out where she’d seen Leelee.
“Would you like to go somewhere quiet to talk?” Stephen asked.
“I don’t think there’s a quiet corner in the house.” Becky smiled.
Just then, Martha came out of the house in a whirlwind.
“Was that really Mr. Tobin ranting and raving out here? My Lord, I held my breath the entire time and tried not to be seen. Did he recognize you? Do you think he knew it was us? Why was he up here? What did he think Judge was going to do?” Martha finally took a gulp of air.
“It was him, but he didn’t recognize anyone. Or if he did, he was good at pretending,” Becky said then forced a pleasant smile. “Have you met Stephen Penbroke? This is my dearest friend and partner in crime, Martha Bourdeaux.”
“Hello, Miss Bourdeaux.” Stephen took her hand and brought it to his lips.
“Call me Martha.” She giggled.
The familiar honking of Teddy’s jalopy cut through the night as he pulled up onto a vacant slot of grass. Becky looked at Martha, who was busy tittering over Stephen’s attention. He certainly was a big-timer.
“What’s this? Rebecca Mackenzie, are you trying to have a rub without me?” Teddy asked before stopping dead in his tracks as he caught sight of Stephen holding Martha’s hand.
Becky rolled her eyes. Martha and Teddy were two peas in a pod but insisted on keeping it platonic. They danced around their feelings for each other like two fireflies on a summer breeze.
“What’s eating you?” Martha replied, smiling.
“Listen, skirt, if there’s a shindig going on at this dive, I better be on the bank roll.” Teddy smiled, but he was obviously sizing up Stephen without trying to be obvious.
“Who ruffled your feathers?” Becky asked. “Of course you are. Will the rest of the Rockdale clan be joining us?”
“They’re bringing up the caboose.” Teddy jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
Becky quickly made introductions before Martha began recounting the excitement Teddy had just missed.
“Really? Old man Tobin? That guy is a loose wire,” Teddy replied.
“What do you say we blow this pop stand?” Becky suggested. “I could use a change of scenery and a little whoopee. This place is filled with fire extinguishers.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Mind if I tag along?” Stephen asked, looking only at Becky.
“Sure, if you don’t mind being like sardines in my flivver.” Teddy winked at Martha, who looked in the other direction.
Then, as if by teleportation, Fanny showed up.
“Did I hear y’all saying you’re leaving? Can you make room for me to squeeze in?” And she looked only at Teddy and Stephen.
“The more the merrier,” Teddy replied, grabbing Martha by the hand as if snatching her away from Stephen before he could make a move.
But Stephen was busy slipping his arm around Becky and gently guiding her toward the car. Becky was shocked but allowed him to cuddle her, if for no other reason than to annoy Fan
ny. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Eighteen
“There’s plenty of room back here, Stephen,” Fanny said. “There’s no need for you to cram yourself into the rumble seat.”
“I’ve been stuffed in worse places. So where are we going?” he asked, looking at Becky.
She felt her cheeks blush. She hated to admit that Stephen was a breath of fresh air. He knew so little about her except what Mr. Tobin had said. That was enough to keep Becky from looking him in the eye. Had Adam been there, he would have stomped up to Earl Tobin and, hoodoo or not, socked him right in the kisser. As it was, no one else really came to her defense. Just Judge.
“Yeah, Becky, where are we going?” Teddy hadn’t let go of Martha’s hand since the engine started.
“Martha, why don’t you pick,” Becky said.
“Oh, dear. No offense, Martha, but you picked the Crazy Calico, and that didn’t turn out very well for anyone,” Fanny said. “That poor Mr. Loomis barely recovered. He is sweet on Becky, in case you weren’t aware.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a fella.” Stephen smirked.
The idea that Becky might have had a crush didn’t seem to bother him. In fact, the way he leaned in toward her made Becky think that made her seem all the more appealing.
“I don’t. Hugh Loomis is a friend of my mother’s,” Becky replied, still looking out into the night. She was enjoying the air and the wind in her face and couldn’t wait to get to some noisy place where the music was too loud to talk and the only thing to do was get a wiggle on with some giggle water.
“Oh, Becky. Don’t be so silly,” Fanny continued. “The only reason poor Hugh even drank that moonshine was to impress you. He was making doll eyes at her all night.”
“He was making crossed eyes at everyone after his first sip of that shine,” Martha replied as she turned around in her seat to face her fellow travelers. “I’ll bet my life he was seeing double. Hey, Teddy.”
“Yes, my darling?”
“How’s about we take a jaunt to that dive over by that place. You know what I’m talking about?” Martha said.
“You mean that one place that has the thing?” Teddy replied.
“Yes, with that other thing they have next to the giant clock.” Martha clapped her hands and nodded.
“That’s a swell idea. Hold on to your hats, folks. We’re heading to that one place.”
Teddy hit the gas, and in a short while, everyone was spilling out of the car and making tracks to a plain wooden door on the side of a warehouse. Within minutes, they were inside the building, and Becky had already disappeared on the dance floor.
“Where did she go?” Stephen asked Martha as they made their way to a booth with velvet cushions around a small table.
“I hate to break it to you, Romeo, but Becky’s dance card is full. Every sheik who can keep up wants to swing her around the floor,” Martha replied. “Plus, she’s dizzy about someone, and it ain’t Hugh Loomis.”
“Dizzy? With who?” Stephen didn’t look the least bit shocked or even slightly disturbed that Martha was giving him the brush-off for Becky. It annoyed her that he looked rather amused.
“Now don’t go getting in a lather. He’s a big-six by the name of Adam White. I’m giving you the straight dope. You seem like a good egg, and I think it’s only fair that you know.” Martha smiled. “But if it’s any consolation, you can certainly take home the booby prize.”
Fanny, who had captured the attention of every man in the place with her slow walk and sleepy eyes, slunk up to the table with a drink in her hand.
“This place reminds me of one of the many evenings I was out in Paris. Oh, the nightlife in Paris is so much different from the United States. Especially the South. I’m not saying it’s better—my, no. I’m just saying that there are little niceties that the Parisians expect that Americans would just never think of,” Fanny gushed as she slid into the booth next to Martha.
Teddy arrived with drinks for everyone. Becky made an appearance long enough to throw her drink back and get back on the dance floor. Each time she did, she had a different partner, until finally, the band slowed things down, and Stephen made his move.
“How about it? Care to dance, or will I be leaving here with sore toes?” he teased, hitting Becky in the ego.
“I ain’t no corn masher.” She smiled back and accepted. But as soon as he swung her onto the dance floor, she felt his strong arms tighten around her and felt his soft, shaved cheek pressed against hers.
“I didn’t think I’d get a chance to talk to you alone,” he said tenderly in her ear.
“We’re hardly alone,” Becky replied.
“Don’t be a dumb Dora. You know what I mean,” Stephen scoffed.
“Dumb Dora? Who do you think you’re talking to?” Becky pulled back only to feel him hold her tighter. It wasn’t painful like when Edward at the Crazy Calico had squeezed her. No, this was nice. Exciting and dangerous.
“Becky Mackenzie, I’ve been waiting for you since I was five years old. You didn’t really notice me then. But I think you notice me now,” he said in her ear, making her shiver and blush.
“I think you’re a swell guy, Stephen. But it’s obvious that Fanny’s got her sights set on you,” Becky replied.
“Well, let’s just say I was never all that crazy about Paris.”
Stephen picked Becky up and swung her around, and when her feet hit the floor and the music changed, he danced her breath away. And Becky was thankful for it. She wanted to forget about moonshine and Leelee with the scarf around her head and Mr. Tobin the party crasher. They sounded like characters out of a dime-store mystery novel. And it was a mystery. What were they up to? Why were they picking on Daddy and his land now? Was it really because of Becky snooping around?
Stop! You’re here to have fun and forget about the world for a little while! You’ve got this big brute sweeping you all over the floor. The liquor is wet and the ice is cold. There is nothing to worry about in here, she argued with herself.
If Judge didn’t seem too worried, you shouldn’t be worried either. But Judge hadn’t seen the woman digging in the bone yard. And he didn’t see the men with their boiled eyes and lips sewn shut. He didn’t see the statues or hear what they did to Mr. Gavin. Stop! Stop! Stop!
Suddenly Becky’s head was swimming.
“Beck? Are you okay?” Stephen asked, holding her in his arms.
“I don’t know. I feel like someone slipped me a mickey,” she replied, putting her hand to her head.
“Hey, what’s eating you?” Martha, who had been watching them dance and taking special joy in pointing out their talent to Fanny, rushed up to them.
“I don’t know. I think I’m just tired,” Becky replied.
“A little fresh air will do her some good.” Martha slapped Stephen’s shoulder. “Would you mind, Big and Good-lookin’? She’s had a long day.”
“Not at all.”
Stephen kept his arm around Becky’s waist and led her through the crowd and out the door. The cool, fresh air hit her like a shot in the arm. Becky took a deep breath and hung onto Stephen’s arm.
“Here. Take a load off.” He lifted her by the waist and sat her down gently on the hood of an old Fiat.
“I’m feeling better.” She put her hand to her cheek. “I usually don’t get that way. I love to dance. But something’s gone to my head. I’ve had one of those days that you wish you could wrap up in paper and ship back in the mail.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Stephen asked, leaning close but not too close.
She looked at his hands. They were clean and smooth. He obviously worked with his head and not his hands.
“I don’t think you’d find it all that interesting.” All Becky needed was Stephen Penbroke reporting back to his mother that she was having run-ins with the local loony moonshiner while his maid was stealing dirt from her cemetery and practicing hoodoo on people. That would make it back to Kitty before she could
say “amen.” The lecture she’d get would be one for the books.
“Sure I would. If I could sit through an hour of Fanny’s trip to Paris, I can certainly listen to something from a dame like you.”
He was a charmer. His blond hair had curled even tighter with sweat from dancing, and his green eyes crinkled when he smiled.
“A dame like me?”
“Yeah. You’re a ripe tomato, and I mean that with all due respect.” He winked.
“Horse feathers. There isn’t a gent in the place who’s noticed anyone but Fanny since she walked in. The sad thing is the same goes at my homestead.” Becky didn’t mean to whine, but Stephen had asked, and now she was singing like a canary.
“Let me tell you something about the male species,” Stephen said. “We like to look at things. Pretty things. Things that are soft all over and smile and bat their eyes. But when it comes down to it, there is nothing better than a girl with a good head on her shoulders. Sure, some palookas would rather have the jewelry hanging from their arm. But we’re talking real big shots. The kind that carry a violin case around with them.” Stephen put his index finger next to his nose.
“You seem to know a lot about it.” Becky leaned back and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me your hands are so soft because you’re a can opener.”
Stephen laughed. “I don’t crack safes or skulls. I just know about them. I read the papers like everyone else. I also know that dishes like Fanny come a dime a dozen. But dames like you…well, that’s a horse of a completely different color.”
Becky blushed and took another deep breath. At the mention of newspapers, she thought about Adam, and a twinge of guilt plucked at her heart. What was there to feel guilty about? She’d danced with other fellas before, and Adam even let them cut in on occasion. Besides, she’d known Stephen when she was five years old. Not that she remembered at all, but it only made sense that they would get along since they came from the same kind of families and had such deep roots in the South.