After the Parade

by Dorothy Garlock

  When Dale Cole left the room, Pete was close behind her.

  “Dale, wait a minute.”

  “Yes? Did you want something?”

  “Just to talk to you for a minute. How are you doing?”

  “Fine. Why are you interested in how I’m doing?”

  “Because I can’t get you out of my mind. I keep seeing those big sad eyes and the fingerprints on your throat.”

  She looked at him doubtfully and he saw a faint hint of color rise on her cheeks.

  “Don’t add to my problems. Please.”

  “That’s the last thing I want to do. I passed by your house last night and saw a little boy sitting on your step. Yours?”

  “Yes.” Dale drew in a deep breath. “He —he saw you wave at me.”

  “Your little boy?”

  “No. My husband. Please don’t do it again.” Large brown eyes pleaded with him.

  Pete was stunned. Then his face hardened into a scowl.

  “Did he hurt you?” The words came out in a husky whisper.

  “No. But he …thought that… we—”

  “Christ on a horse! Is the man insane? Can’t a man wave at you without him thinking you’re having an affair?”

  “He thinks that…a man wouldn’t pay attention to me …unless he thought I wanted him to take me to bed. He says no man would pass up an invitation like that…even from me.” The words were hard for Dale to say.

  “Dale!” Pete’s fingers closed on her arm. “That’s not true. I’d be honored to have you for a friend, and that’s all I intended…at first.”

  “At first?”

  “Until I got to know you, saw the bruises on you. Oh, hell! Now I want to take that bastard out and stomp his guts out.”

  “Don’t interfere in my life. I know what I am—”

  “—Dammit, don’t say it.”

  “For a short while I thought that I could work here at the clinic, use what I had learned in nursing school, maybe someday pass the exam and get my nursing license. It’s not going to happen. He told me to give the doctor two weeks’ notice.”

  “He’s forcing you to quit?”

  “He thinks I should be home with Danny.”

  “Why don’t you stand up to him? Tell him that you’ll not quit. You’re needed here.”

  “You don’t understand. Why don’t you tend to your own business?” Tears of frustration filled Dale’s eyes. “Now get away from me. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Wait,” Pete said quickly when she started to dart into the laundry room. “If you ever need help, call me at Jude’s house. I’ll be there until I get a place of my own.”

  “You’re staying around here?”

  “I’m going to buy some land, start a horse ranch, and raise rodeo horses.”

  “Good luck,” she whispered through trembling lips.

  Pete stood in the quiet of the clinic hallway as the door swung gently after Dale passed through it. He didn’t understand himself. He just knew that it hurt like hell to think of her being misused by the coward she was married to. The bastard was smart. He had kept her down by eroding her confidence. Pete dug his hands deeply into the pockets of his pants and went to find Johnny.

  The reception room was empty when Pete reached it. He continued on out the door and saw Johnny leaning on the car, looking out over a broad expanse of prairie. Pete lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Come out to smoke?”

  “Yeah. Henry Ann took it pretty good,” Johnny said, when Pete leaned against the car beside him.

  “Isabel was really out of her mind today. That’s the worst she’s been.”

  “While she was out at the ranch, she tried to tell me about men she’d been with, and I wouldn’t listen. I’d just walk out. It appears to be all that’s on her mind.”

  “She was a little slut at fourteen. I never touched her. I don’t know whether Hardy did.”

  “It must be some bad strain that Dorene passed on to

  her.”

  “I never believed in this ‘passing on’ thing. If it was true, Jude and I would be down on Mud Creek with a dozen kids apiece.”

  “Some say that people are the products of their environment.”

  “That’s not necessarily true either. I’ve known strong, brave men, whose folks were pure trash, and the other way around. I knew a preacher once …a real nice man, for a preacher.” Pete grinned. “He had three sons: one was a preacher, one a teacher, and the other a killer who was executed over at McCalister. Figure that out.”

  “Did you ever know your mother?” Johnny asked after he lit another cigarette.

  “No, she died when I was three or four. Hardy’s ma took care of me until I was old enough to take care of myself.”

  “Was your mother a kin of Hardy’s?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. Could have been a cousin. Dorene was the only sister he had. I think they had the same mother. Everybody on Mud Creek was related one way or the other.”

  “Blood can be so watered down by years of inbreeding that all that’s produced are runts and freaks. I’ve seen it in cattle and horses.”

  “That’s not the case with me. I’m certainly no runt. Hell, boy, you’re not either. Jude may have got my share of brains, but seems like you got your share and so did Henry Ann.”

  “Years ago I was told that Dorene and Hardy are the kids of a father and daughter. Is that true?”

  “I don’t know that either. You probably heard that from Fat Perry’s ma. That old woman could spin the wildest yarns you ever heard.”

  “It doesn’t worry you that it might” be true?”

  “I’ve not given it any thought.”

  “What about your offspring?” Johnny persisted. “Do you plan on having children someday?”

  “I’d like to think that I will. I’ve seen too many men grow old without anyone to care whether they lived or died.”

  “I’ll never take a chance on bringing something in the world that people would call a freak.”

  A car drove up and stopped behind them. A man in a black suit and a brown-felt hat tilted forward got out. He passed Pete and Johnny without a glance and went up the walk and into the clinic.

  “And good day to you, too,” Pete said. “If he’s a salesman, I hope Jude don’t buy from him.”

  “He’s Harry Cole. His wife was the nurse in the room with Isabel. I’ve seen him a couple of times.”

  “So that’s him. Dale asked me not to wave at her anymore. He saw me do it and immediately thought we were having an affair.”

  Johnny grinned. “You work pretty fast.”

  “Yeah. It’s one of my best qualities. I think I’ll see what kinda car he drives.”

  Pete fingered the knife in his pocket as he-sauntered around to the other side of Harry Cole’s car. He came slowly around the back of it and up the sidewalk to where Johnny stood leaning against a front fender of his own car.

  “Nice car,” Pete remarked. “The only thing wrong with it is a flat tire on the back left side.”

  “Like I said, you work pretty fast.”

  “Mud Creek survival training,” Pete explained without cracking a smile. “Shall we go in and sit for a while? Henry Ann will be wanting to go before long.”

  Harry Cole carefully took off his hat so as not to muss his hair when he went into the clinic. Millie looked up from her typewriter.

  “I want to see Dr. Perry.” He gave the woman a haughty stare. “Not as a patient, but on a personal matter.”

  “I’ll see if he’s free.”

  Millie did not like Harry Cole, had not liked him since the day he came to Rawlings. She liked him less since she had come to know Dale and to suspect that he abused her physically as well as mentally. The poor woman put on what Millie called her “happy-happy” act to cover her misery.

  Millie knocked softly on the office door, then opened it and went inside, closing it behind her. The doctor was seated. Theresa stood beside him. Both heads were bent over a chart that lay on the d
esk. Millie waited until he looked up. Then she spoke softly.

  “You’ve got a visitor. Harry Cole. He wants to talk to you about a personal matter.”

  “Uh-oh,” Theresa said.

  “Exactly.” This came from Millie. “Want me to throw him out?”

  “No. We’d better see what he has to say. What do you know about him? I’ve thrown out a few feelers and learned a few things.”

  “He’s a snob. He likes to hobnob with the rich and powerful,” Millie said with a sniff. “He loves to feel important and have people think he’s a high muckety-muck. And, one more thing—he’d like nothing better than to be mayor or county supervisor.”

  “How about one of the trustees here at the clinic?” Jude asked.

  “That, too.” Millie nodded.

  “I’m falling in love with you, Millie.” Jude smiled.

  Millie fluffed her hair. “You and your brother will just have to fight over me. I’ll send Mr. Big Shot in.”

  “I’ll leave,” Theresa said. “Good luck.”

  “You’re my luck, Theresa.” His smile was so beautiful that she wanted to cry.

  “And you are mine, Dr. Jude.” The words were out before she realized it. She hurried out the side door. “Oh, my gosh! Why in the world did I say that?”

  Jude stared at the door. He hadn’t time to analyze Theresa’s reply because the other door opened, and Harry Cole came in. Jude got to his feet and held out his hand.

  “Mr. Cole, this is a coincidence. Mr. Wrenn from the bank was speaking about you yesterday. Please sit down.”

  Harry sat down and placed his hat on his knee. “Was John saying that I had overdrawn on my account?” he asked in a manner that said he knew that was not the case. His eyes glittered with interest.

  Jude laughed. “Nothing like that. We were discussing men we considered highly qualified for county offices. Your name was at the top of the list. I hope you’ll keep this conversation confidential. I don’t want the others to think I’m spiking their guns, so to speak.”

  “You can count on it. Mum’s the word.” Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.

  “Frankly, I kicked up a fuss because soon there will be an opening here at the clinic for a trustee. There are not too many men around who have had supervisory experience.”

  “I’ve had that all right Supervising men is not the easiest job in the world.”

  “That’s what I was telling John and the mayor. John thought you’d make a good mayor. It’s something you could do and still keep your present job. Claude isn’t sure he can handle the job for another term. Government surpluses will be pouring in next year. He said that we need someone with experience to direct them to the right place.”

  “It’s gratifying to know that Claude has that much confidence in me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Cole—”

  “Harry. Please call me Harry.”

  “I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to monopolize this meeting. What was it that you wanted to see me about?”

  “Well, Doctor—”

  “Call me Jude.” Jude leaned forward as if he were eager to hear what the man had to say.

  “I stopped by to tell you that my wife can help out here as long as you need her. We had discussed her quitting and staying home, giving her time for the fancy needlework and flower arranging she enjoys.”

  “I’ve noticed the bouquets she’s brought to the clinic. She has a knack with flowers.”

  “We’re not in need of the money she earns here. I spoke to her about volunteering her services—”

  “—That’s most generous of you, Harry,” Jude exclaimed. “But I can’t build a schedule around volunteers. I need to know when my helpers will be here and how long they will say.”

  “That’s something I hadn’t thought of, Jude.” Harry nodded his head as he spoke. “I can see where that would be a problem for you.”

  “In the city we had volunteers who came in once in a while from the church groups. They have to be closely supervised. We thought we’d struck a gold mine when we came here and discovered Mrs. Cole. I was told that she was a great help to the doctor who came down two days a week after Dr. Simpson passed on.”

  Harry smiled. “Yes, she is very capable and very well organized. We’ve been married for six years and—”

  “—I imagine that you had something to do with that.”

  Harry laughed. “I wasn’t going to say so.”

  “You didn’t have to, Harry.”

  When Dale glanced out the window and saw Harry’s car parked in front of the clinic behind Pete Perry’s car, fear kept her frozen for the length of a dozen heartbeats. Oh, Lord! What would she do if he raised a fuss? She went to the hall and stood for a moment, and the thought of fleeing came to mind. It was immediately discarded. Harry had come to tell Dr. Perry that she could not work here. He had warned her that that was what he would do if she didn’t give notice.

  If it wasn’t for Danny, I would walk out the back door of the clinic and keep walking across the prairie until I dropped. I can’t leave my son to be raised by that man!

  Dale went to peer through the small window that allowed the nurses to view the reception area. She could see the back of Millie’s gray head. Pete Perry and Johnny Henry were talking quietly in the corner. The rest of the chairs were empty.

  Then she heard laughter coming from the doctor’s office. Harry was laughing! What was he up to now?

  “Ohhh…” She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned quickly to see Blanche, the clinic cook, standing behind her.

  “Didn’t mean to scare ya. I called but guess ya didn’t hear. The lady back there with Miss Henry is calling ya. She sounds scared.”

  “Thank you, Blanche. I guess I was daydreaming.”

  Dale hurried down the hall. The door to Miss Henry’s room was open. Her sister was standing beside the raised bed.

  “Something…is happening—”

  Dale looked down at her patient and saw that the corner of Isabel’s mouth had drawn down. She lifted a lid and observed that Isabel’s eyes had rolled back in her head.

  “She’s having a stroke. I’ll get the doctor.”

  Dale ran out of the room and down the hall. She threw open the door to the office.

  “Come quick, Doctor. Miss Henry is having a stroke.” She hurried back down the hallway without even acknowledging Harry. Jude was behind her when she returned to Isabel’s room. Henry Ann moved away from the bedside to make room for the doctor and nurse.

  Dale pulled back the sheet and Jude listened to Isabel’s heart through the stethoscope in his ears. He spoke to Henry Ann while still listening.

  “Her heart is failing. It won’t be long. If Johnny is here, he may want to come in.”

  “He’s still here, Doctor. Shall I get him?”

  Jude nodded, and Dale hurried from the room.

  “She’s dying,” Henry Ann said sadly.

  Jude nodded again and turned back to his patient.

  Henry Ann was glad when Johnny and Pete entered behind the nurse. She moved over close to Johnny. He put his arm around her. The room was so terribly quiet. The rasping gasps for breath that had caused Henry Ann to call out had almost ceased.

  Pete stood behind Henry Ann, his hand on her shoulder. He watched Dale, calm and efficient. Damn, but she was a fine woman.

  Jude took the stethoscope from his ears. “There’s nothing I can do. The stroke brought on a heart attack.” He moved to the end of the bed to give Henry Ann and Johnny an unobstructed view of their dying sister.

  Henry Ann stood with her head bowed, trying not to remember how uncaring Isabel had been the night her father died.

  “Ain’t my daddy,” Isabel had said when asked to turn down the radio.

  Now Isabel was dying. Henry Ann cared, not because she was her half sister, but because she was a human being.

  Five long minutes passed. Then Jude moved back to the bed and placed the end of the stethosco
pe on Isabel’s chest. When he lifted it, he pulled the sheet up over her face.

  “She’s gone.”

  “Do you think that it was my being here that got her so worked up that she had the stroke?” Henry Ann asked.

  “No, I don’t think that. Her blood pressure was terribly high, and I couldn’t get it down to a safe level. Her kidneys were failing, and water was forming in pockets all over her body. That and the cancer that had spread led to the stroke that caused heart failure.”

  “I’m glad that I came today. Something told me that I should.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. Isabel had her family with her in the end, even if she had rejected them.”

  Johnny had not uttered a word since he came into the room. He stood with his back to the wall and ran his fingers through his dark straight hair. He had seen enough death to last a lifetime but was never prepared to see life leave a human body.

  “Will you call the funeral home, Jude?” Johnny’s voice was low with respect for his dead sister. “We’ll take Henry Ann back to Kathleen’s. Then I’ll go make arrangements.”

  “Sure. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  “Oh, look. That poor man has a flat tire,” Henry Ann said on the way to the car.

  “Yeah,” Pete said. “Seems so.”

  Harry Cole had driven his car past Pete’s before he realized the back tire was flat. Driving on the rim had ruined the tire. Harry had removed his coat, jacked up the car, and was struggling to put on the spare.

  “Hey, mister,” he called as Pete rounded the front of the car to get in on the driver’s side. “Do you have a tire pump?”

  “Nope.” Pete kept walking, got in the car, and started the motor.

  Henry Ann looked questioningly at Pete. “I can’t believe you don’t have a pump.”

  He grinned at her, tromped on the gas, and darted around the man squatted beside the car, his wheels stirring up a dust cloud.

  “This car’s got a lot of pickup,” he said as if pleasantly surprised. “It’s hard for me to hold it down at times.”

  As soon as Dale was free, she hurried to the window to see if Harry’s car was still there. He had moved it and was fixing a flat tire. How did that happen? He hated getting dirty. He would never do physical work if there was any way to get out of it.