After the Parade

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Did he know you did it?” Kathleen asked.

  “He suspected. Another time one of the guys tied his shoelaces together while he slept and when the sirens went off, as they did every night, he got up and fell flat on his face. We all hooted and ran for the foxholes.”

  “We had one of those on our ship.” Pete turned the beer bottle around and around with his big hands. “He was so scared he’d wet his pants. I felt sorry for him, but every man had his spot to fill and I had to see to it that he’d fill his. He was finally shipped out to stateside duty. It was a relief to all of us.”

  Silence stretched between the two men like a taut rubber band. Both were remembering other times.

  “We had quite a few close calls,” Pete finally began again. “I really never thought I’d make it back.”

  “I did my damnedest to do my job and stay alive. That’s all any of us could do.”

  “Did you ever listen to Tokyo Rose?”

  “Yeah, we heard her when we were secure enough to have a radio. It made us plenty sore when we found out that she was an American citizen who went to visit a relative then turned traitor for the Japs. She had a soft coaxing voice and fed us a bunch of bull about what was going on.”

  “She’s been arrested and is being tried for treason.”

  “If they don’t hang her, I hope that they put her away for life.”

  “Yeah. The war was an experience I’m glad I had a part in as long as there had to be a war, but I wouldn’t want to do it again.”

  “Me too,” Johnny said. “It already seems as if that was another life, or that it happened to someone else.” He turned to Kathleen. “Are you ready to go? I doubt this conversation is interesting to you.” He stood and held her coat.

  “You’re wrong about the conversation, but it is getting late.”

  They drove Pete to the clinic, where he had left his car. When he got out, he told Kathleen that he was going to hold her to her promise to lend him some of the magazines so he could read her stories. She laughingly told him to come by anytime and pick them up.

  “I’ve got a few extra copies at the ranch, if he really wants to read your stories,” Johnny said grumpily, while driving Kathleen home. He was quiet after that and didn’t speak until he stopped at her house.

  “Do you have locks on your doors?”

  “I checked them today. I have the telephone, too.”

  “I’ll be in tomorrow. I’ll have a talk with Eddie at the garage; and if Thomas isn’t there, I’ll look him up. If he ever pulls such a stunt again, call the sheriff. If there’s anything left of that mechanic after I get through with him, he’ll go to jail.”

  “It’s a shame when a person has to lock her doors in broad daylight. I’ve never had to do that before.”

  Johnny got out of the car, came around, and opened the car door. They walked to the porch.

  “Did you lock the door when you left?”

  “Oh, shoot. I didn’t even think about it. It was daylight when we left.”

  Johnny turned the knob, pushed open the door and switched on the lights.

  “I’ll go through the house.”

  Kathleen waited in the living room while he made the circle through the kitchen, small back room, the bathroom, then through her bedroom. When he returned to the living room, Kathleen swallowed hard, knowing that he had seen the panties she had washed in the bathroom and left hanging on a line stretched across the bathtub.

  “I locked your back door and hooked a chair under the doorknob. Do the same to this front door. These locks are flimsy.”

  “I’m not afraid, Johnny. I was by myself at the ranch when you were away.”

  ’Times have changed, and you’re in town now. I’ll take care of Gabe Thomas. But there are others out there just as bad or even worse than he is.”

  “Don’t get into any trouble on my account.”

  He was concerned for her. Kathleen tried her best not to be thankful that Gabe Thomas had come into her house.

  “Your car running all right?” he asked, dismissing the subject.

  “Good enough. The tire keeps leaking air. Didn’t we used to have a tire pump?”

  “It may be out at the ranch. I’ll take a look.”

  “If there’s anything I can do to help with Isabel, let me know.”

  “I’m going to call Henry Ann tomorrow and tell her about Isabel. If she decides to come, would it be all right if she stayed with you?”

  “Of course. I’ll be glad to have her.”

  “I’ll tell her that when we talk.” He pulled open the door. “I’d better get going, I’m going to stop by the clinic.”

  “Good night, Johnny.”

  He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezed it gently, and nodded. Then he was out the door, his long legs taking him in swift strides across the porch and to his car, as if a mad dog were on his heels.

  “Shitfire, shitfire,” he cursed.

  She looked at me with those big, sad eyes, and I know she wanted me to stay. God, I wanted to stay and love her all night long; but if I did, it would have been the same thing over again. She should be with a man who can give her healthy babies. Tonight Pete watched her like a hawk stalking a chicken. I don’t dare let him think she and I are through for good or he’d be after her like a shot, and his blood is as bad as mine.

  A light glowed in the three-sided shed behind Eddie’s service station. Gabe Thomas lay under the wreck of an old car, removing parts. He was allowed the use of the shed as part compensation for helping out at the station when Eddie had to be away.

  The wheels of the wreck had been removed and the frame set upon blocks. With light from a single bulb on the end of a long cord, Gabe was pulling out the bolts that held the engine in place and thinking about Kathleen Henry. Damn, but she was pretty, and with that red hair, she would be hotter than a pistol.

  He’d’a had her today if that fool hadn’t knocked on the door. But—there would be another day. A woman like her, who had had it, couldn’t go without very long, and he hadn’t heard of her being with anyone since she came back to Rawlings. She wasn’t going back to Johnny or she wouldn’t have moved into that house. He’d give her a little more time—let her sweat a little, it would make her all the more eager. Next time, he’d not be so stupid as to try for her in broad daylight.

  The wide crack between the boards gave the watcher a full view of the shed. He had studied the wreck sitting on the blocks and now waited patiently for Gabe to position himself beneath it. The shed was a dark, quiet area. Nothing had moved up or down the adjoining street for half an hour. The man in the dark clothes calculated distance, angles and how much of a bump it would take to move the wreck before he turned away and walked quickly back to where he had left his car.

  Minutes later, a car without lights came slowly down the alley, picked up speed when it neared the shed, turned sharply, and rammed the wreck, knocking it off the blocks and into the side of the shed. The light went out. Darkness and quiet prevailed.

  Satisfied that he had accomplished, what he had intended, the man calmly drove out of the alley and away.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Tell that doctor you’re quitting.”

  Harry dropped the words into the silence while his face was still behind the newspaper.

  “What?” Dale was so startled that her hand shook as she returned her cup to the saucer.

  “Have you lost your hearing, Dale?” He lowered the paper, frowned at Dale, then smiled pleasantly at his son. “Danny, if you’ve finished your breakfast, run get your coat, and I’ll give you a ride to school.”

  “You wanted me to have this job, Harry.” Dale waited until the child left the room before she spoke. She did her best to keep her voice from quivering.

  “That was then. This is now. Your place is here at home taking care of Danny.”

  “He’s in school all day, Harry. He spends an hour after school with Mrs. Ramsey. I’m home and dinner is ready by the t
ime you get here.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you.” Harry gave a deep sigh and shook his head as if talking to a stubborn child. He moved his coffee cup aside, carefully folded the Gazette, and placed it on the table beside his plate.

  Dale watched the action. During the six years of their marriage, she had cataloged in her mind every move he made leading up to one of his black moods. First his voice would soften, then he became overly neat and orderly; breaking a matchstick before he dropped it in the ashtray, dusting lint from his coat sleeve, smoothing the hair at his temples.

  Next would come the questions. Don’t I provide for you? Don’t you have everything you need? Didn’t I take you off that dirt farm and put you in a house with a flush toilet?

  Dale began to quake inside, but as usual she stood up against him as long as she could.

  “They are short-handed at the clinic, Harry. A terminally ill patient was admitted yesterday. I should give a month’s notice so they can hire another nurse.”

  “Jesus Christ, Dale. We both know that you’re not a nurse. Did you graduate from nursing school? Did you get your certificate? You empty bedpans and clean up vomit and shit. It doesn’t take brains to do that. Tell him that you’ll be gone in two weeks. That’s my limit.”

  “No.” Dale stood. “They need me, and I need the job.”

  “Why do you need the job? Don’t I provide for you?” Harry got slowly to his feet, his eyes boring into hers. “What’s got into you? You’re getting more difficult all the time.”

  “I won’t give the doctor notice, Harry.” Dale hoped and prayed that Danny’s being in the house would keep Harry’s fists from lashing out.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to do it myself.” He walked slowly around the table, then as fast as a striking snake, his hand was at her throat shoving her up against the wall. He knocked her head against it repeatedly until a plate on a plate holder bounced off the shelf and crashed to the floor.

  “I’m tired of you defying me when I tell you to do something. Who pays for the roof over your head and food that goes into that fat belly? Huh? Who took you from that dirt farm and set you up in a decent house? Huh?”

  Dale clawed at the hand squeezing her neck, closing off her windpipe. Over the ringing in her ears, she heard her son’s pleading voice.

  “Daddy, Daddy. Stop …please stop—”

  Dale gasped for breath when the hand left her throat, only vaguely aware that Harry was talking calmly to their son.

  “Your mother and I were just having a little fun. She fell against the wall and knocked your grandmother’s plate off the shelf. You know how she is—not the most graceful mother in the world, huh? We’d better move, son, or both of us will be late.” With his hand at the back of Danny’s head, Harry urged him toward the door. The child resisted for just a moment, looking back at his mother.

  Dale didn’t move until she heard the car start and was sure he was leaving. When she did, her foot crunched the broken glass. She stroked her throat gently and swallowed to be sure that she could.

  Someday he will kill me.

  Johnny was up at dawn after a sleepless night. Last night Sherm had finished boiling the sheets and had hung them on the line to dry. After making up the bed, Johnny had stripped and fallen into it. But sleep had not come as he had expected. He continued to feel Kathleen in his arms, warm and moving, to smell the scent of her hair when he buried his nose in it, and to see the curve of her lips when she smiled.

  She had not been outraged, as he had expected, when he kissed her. Lord, how many nights had he crouched down in his foxhole while the Japs strafed and bombed their building site, thinking of kissing her and more— burying himself in her soft body? He relived in detail the hours, during the dark of night, that they had spent making love, whispering, teasing, making plans. At other times, dark times, he had remembered her turning away from him after they had buried their baby, refusing to understand his determination never again to father a child.

  Five years had dimmed the pain he had felt on seeing the small piece of deformed humanity he and Kathleen had brought into the world. It had not, however, dimmed his resolve never again to put her through the agony of giving birth to a child of his. But would he be able to endure seeing her stomach swell with another man’s child. Good Lord! He should have taken that job in Central America when it was offered.

  When morning came, Johnny put the coffeepot on, then began clearing the house of Isabel’s belongings. He piled her clothes in the yard, poured gasoline on them, and set them ablaze. Thanks to his navy training he had already been careful with the cups, glasses, and eating utensils she had used, washing them separately and letting them sit in the boiling water.

  He told Sherm when he came in for breakfast that Isabel wasn’t coming back.

  “I knowed she warn’t well but didn’t figure it was so bad.”

  “I’ve got to go back to town this morning. When I get back, I’ll scrub this place down with lye soap. I don’t think she ever went to the outhouse.”

  “I ain’t never seen her go there.”

  “That’s one less thing we have to worry about. I set the chamber pot on the porch. I’ll build a fire under the wash pot and scald it good. I never use it, but I don’t want it sitting around here with germs on it.”

  “I can do it while yo’re gone. Is that feller comin’ back to help drive up the horses?”

  “I don’t know. Pete seems to be the only one who can do anything with Isabel. She’s so ornery, the doctor is afraid his nurses will quit.”

  “Hit’s a pity, is what it is. Her bein’ young and all.”

  Johnny drove slowly into town. After he tended to the business with Gabe, he would go to the telephone office and call Henry Ann to tell her about Isabel. He believed that she would come to Rawlings. She would think it the decent thing to do. He would have to watch Pete when she got here. Johnny wasn’t sure whether Pete still had strong feelings for Henry Ann, and he didn’t want his sister to have to deal with that on top of everything else.

  When he rounded the corner to drive into Eddie’s station, Johnny could tell that something out of the ordinary had happened. Several cars were parked in the alley and along the street, one of them a hearse. Jude, wearing his overcoat over his white jacket and holding his black bag, was talking to the undertaker. Johnny parked and crossed the street.

  “Morning. Has something happened to Eddie?”

  “No, to Gabe Thomas.” Douglas Klein, the undertaker and owner of the furniture store, answered. He was a friendly man with a husky body, dark hair, and a small mustache.

  “What happened?”

  “The old wreck he had up on blocks fell and crushed him flat as a fritter.”

  “Not quite that flat,” Jude said. “But he died instantly.”

  “Too bad. Where’s Eddie?”

  “He went to find a jack to lift the wreck so that we can get the body out. He said Gabe was usually pretty careful about blocking up those old wrecks.”

  “He must have slipped up this time. Are you through here, Jude?” Johnny asked.

  “Just about. As coroner, I’ve got to sign the death certificate. The sheriff and I can’t see it as anything but an accident. What are you doing in town so early?”

  “I was going to speak to Eddie. Guess I have no reason to do that now.” Johnny put a cigarette in his mouth, struck a match on the sole of his boot, and held the flame to the tip. “I plan to call Henry Ann this morning. She has a right to know about Isabel. How was she this morning?”

  “About the same. She won’t let us check her vitals. We have to do it when she’s sedated. We’re trying to keep her quiet. She wastes a lot of her strength yelling and thrashing around. Miss Pauley, the night nurse, said she made so much noise she woke everyone in the clinic.”

  Eddie returned with the jack and several men went with him into the shed to help the undertaker recover the body.

  “Jude, I don’t have much, but I’ll pay for Isabel�
��s keep somehow. Just give me a little time.”

  “You’ll not owe me a thing for my services, Johnny. The clinic is another matter. The board of trustees will give you as much time as you need to pay them. So don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll worry about it. There’s just not much I can do about it right now.”

  “I’ll keep her as comfortable as I can until the end. There will be an end, Johnny, and soon.”

  “Does she know?”

  “I’m not sure. I think she has brain damage. That’s not my line, so I can’t be absolutely sure. A completely sane person would understand the seriousness of her condition.”

  The stretcher bearing Gabe Thomas’s body was placed on the cart from the hearse, and Mr. Klein came to speak with Jude.

  “If you’ve seen enough, Dr. Perry, I’d better get him on down to the parlor. He’s going to take a lot of fixin’ before his folks see him.”

  “I have. I’ll finish up at the clinic and give the death certificate to the sheriff.” Jude and Johnny crossed the street to their cars. “After you talk to Henry Ann, come by the clinic. We need to get some background information on Isabel.”

  “You know as much about her as I do. All I know is that she was born in Oklahoma City. Dorene listed the father as unknown. The only reason I know that is when Isabel tried to get part of Ed Henry’s farm, the lawyer Henry Ann hired got a copy of the birth certificate.”

  “I don’t suppose it matters all that much,” Jude said, getting into his car. “I hope Henry Ann comes. It’ll be good to see her.”

  Jude parked his car at the clinic and went into the side door to his office. He removed his overcoat and sat down in the chair behind his desk to complete his paperwork.

  Would his damn leg ever stop aching?

  He was a little puzzled as to why a man who had worked on cars for most of his life would crawl under a wreck without making sure it was up on solid blocks. Judging by the congealed blood, he presumed the accident had happened around midnight. The body hadn’t been found until early this morning. It wouldn’t have mattered if it had been discovered minutes after the accident. The man had died instantly. Jude filled out the death certificate and left it on his desk for delivery to the sheriff.