“What makes you think they aren’t enjoying it?” he asked.
“Look at their faces! Not a smile, not a flicker of an expression. Just blank like—oh, like two mechanical people.”
“I understand that among devotees of the twist and various other newly discovered forms of what’s laughingly called the dance, any expression of enjoyment marks you as ‘square.’”
Lindsay sighed. “Then I guess I’m hopelessly ‘square.’”
“Not hopelessly. Delightfully!”
“Well, thanks!”
His eyes were warmly admiring, the small smile that touched his mouth very friendly.
“You’re welcome,” he said politely, and for no reason at all they both laughed and felt they had come a long way toward being good friends.
They were just finishing especially delectable slices of lemon meringue pie when Pete approached the table. He looked uneasy, and as Lindsay looked up at him and smiled he seemed to relax ever so little.
“Could I maybe talk to you for a moment, Miss Lindsay?” he asked.
“Of course, Pete.” Lindsay smiled. “And please tell Mrs. Pete that was the most delicious meal I’ve eaten in years!”
“She’ll be real pleased, Miss Lindsay. She was hopin’ you and the Doc would be satisfied,” said Pete. “What I wanted to talk to you about, Miss Lindsay, was about—well, about Miss Jennifer.”
Dr. Corbett asked, “Shall I leave you two alone?”
“It ain’t necessary, Doc. What I got to say to Miss Lindsay ain’t no ways private. Reckon just about everybody in the Bayou knows I got to make a monthly report to Miss Jennifer. I ain’t made it yet this month, and it’s the fifth of the month. I guess the old girl—I mean Miss Jennifer—is about to climb the walls and chew nails, account of I haven’t made my report, ain’t she?” Pete looked down at Lindsay, who gave him a friendly, comforting smile.
“Well, she did ask me to tell you she expected you to make the report in a day or two,” Lindsay admitted.
“I’ll bet she said in a day or two! Way that old witch—beg pardon, Miss Lindsay—the way she operates, she expects your report yesterday. Today ain’t soon enough.”
“Well, Pete, if you know that, wouldn’t it be wiser to report when she expects you to?”
“Sure it would, Miss Lindsay,” Pete answered earnestly. “It’s just that she ain’t ever going to believe what I got to report. Business ain’t been very good lately, with the shrimp boats going way out in the Gulf down to them new shrimp beds that’s just been discovered and being away so long that the folks that’s left is just them that go out for snapper and the like. And they don’t make hardly enough money on their loads to pay expenses and keep themselves and their families fed. So they don’t have any money left over to spend here.”
Dr. Corbett looked at the well-filled room and said quietly, “So you do a lot of business on the cuff, do you, Pete?”
Pete looked harassed.
“Well, Doc, what’s a fellow to do? These folks are all friends of mine. They’ll pay me as soon as they get a few bucks together. I can’t let a fellow die o’ thirst right outside my door when I know he’ll pay me when he can.”
“No, that would be very unfriendly,” Dr. Corbett agreed.
“If Miss Jennifer was as hard up as the rest of us and wasn’t just plumb rollin’ in money, I’d feel different,” Pete told Lindsay, obviously very worried and very anxious to make her understand. “But she’s got more money than any one woman’s got any right to have, and yet she is still ridin’ us here in the Bayou for the last copper cent she can get out of us. Way she takes boats away from good, honest fellows that’s had a run of bad luck, and that’s got wives and young’uns to feed—why, Miss Lindsay, it ain’t even decent!”
“I don’t know what I can do about it, Pete, but I’ll try to talk to her, I promise,” said Lindsay.
“You just tell her, Miss Lindsay, I’ll be right along to see her just as soon as I can make it,” Pete pleaded.
“I think you’d be smart, Pete, to come over tomorrow and talk to her,” Lindsay told him. “I’ll speak to her in the morning and try to get her into a good mood. And then you come up after lunch and have a talk with her and bring whatever records you have.”
Pete nodded, but without hope.
“Be just like the old witch—and this time, Miss Lindsay, I ain’t apologizing for that!—to make me hand over the keys and give the place to somebody else. But I don’t know anybody could run it any better than me. And I got to make money for her if I want any for myself. So you’d think she’d realize I’m not trying to rob her, now wouldn’t you? Well, I’ll be out to Bayou House like you suggested, Miss Lindsay, tomorrow afternoon. And I sure hope you can get the old girl in a good humor.”
“I’m afraid we are both optimists, Pete, but I’ll surely do my best,” Lindsay promised him. As he walked away, his wide, fat shoulders drooping, she met Dr. Corbett’s eyes and flushed. “Well, after all, I am on his side, and I’ll do what I can. But I don’t hope for very much.”
“Miss Jennifer is a very odd woman indeed,” said Dr. Corbett, and Lindsay grinned ruefully.
“Speaking of the understatement of this or any other century,” she answered, and added quickly, “I do feel rather uncomfortable—and that’s another understatement—talking about her this way. But after all, the people here at the Bayou have known her all their lives, and their families before them. It would be rather stupid of me to run around and try to build her up in their minds as a fine, generous, warm-hearted philanthropist, wouldn’t it?”
“Very stupid, and it would get you nothing but the contempt of everybody who knows her,” said Dr. Corbett firmly. “I can’t help wondering what made her that way: a greedy, grasping old woman who doesn’t seem to want a friend in the world and wouldn’t even welcome a small child into her home. And you must have been an enchanting small child!”
Lindsay’s cheeks flushed and her eyes fell beneath the warmth in his even as she made an effort to shrug off the words.
“Oh, I was probably as irritating as any five-year-old brought up in a home where there was never much money but always a wealth of love and laughter. Aunt Jennifer insisted I was badly spoiled. She may have been right. I was only five so, of course, my memories may be colored by imagination. But I remember a mother who was always gay, always pretty, and always loving; and a father who rode me on his shoulder when he came home from work and made a big and loving fuss over me. Why, I even had a kitten!”
For a moment her eyes were wide with the wonder of that, and Dr. Corbett felt a twinge of pity so keen as to be close to pain.
“And what happened to the kitten?” he asked, and by the look that crossed her face knew he had touched a painful spring of memory and wished he hadn’t asked the question.
“Aunt Jennifer wouldn’t let me keep it,” she said briefly. “I never asked what she did with it, before she packed me up and brought me to the Bayou. I was afraid to.”
“Why, you poor kid!”
She looked up at him and tried to make light of the mist of tears that were in her eyes.
“Did you ever hear of anything so utterly silly,” she stammered, “as sitting here weeping for a kitten that vanished years and years ago? How stupid can I be? Shall we go?”
She reached for her scarf, and Dr. Corbett nodded and motioned for Pete and paid their bill.
“You won’t forget to try to get Miss Jennifer kinda quiled down, Miss Lindsay?” he asked as he escorted them toward the door.
“I won’t forget, Pete, but you do understand I can’t promise anything definite,” Lindsay answered.
“Sure, I know that, Miss Lindsay. But I’d be awful grateful if you’d just sort of break the news to her before I get there.”
“Now that I can promise, Pete! I’ll do my best!”
His rou
nd bearded face was touched with a relieved smile.
“Well, now, Miss Lindsay, I reckon nobody could ask any more’n that,” he told her.
As they came out into the moonlight, Dr. Corbett looked down at Lindsay and asked curiously, “Now that’s a phrase I’ve never heard before: ‘quiled down.’ What in blazes does it mean?”
Lindsay laughed. “Oh, it’s the Bayou’s version of ‘coiled down,’ and it means a poison snake, usually. If he’s coiled he’s not so likely to bite you! So Pete is hoping I can get Aunt Jennifer ‘coiled down’ and in a more or less peaceful mood before he gets there.”
“I always thought a snake couldn’t bite unless he was coiled, but then I suppose my education has been all wrong as far as the Bayou and its people are concerned,” Dr. Corbett said as he helped her into the car and slid in beside her. “Still, if Miss Jennifer throws Pete out of the Tavern, she’ll have to get somebody else in his place, and who would that be?”
“Somebody from outside, perhaps. Only I don’t quite think she would dare bring in an outsider unless it was somebody she had known and trusted for years. And is there such a person?”
“I strongly doubt it,” Dr. Corbett said firmly.
As they left the parking space and drove into the winding, makeshift road, Dr. Corbett observed dryly, “That ’gator-runner’s quite a character, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know what he’s like now,” Lindsay answered warily. “He was the ringleader in all the more ambitious mischief at school, but that was a long time ago.”
Dr. Corbett grinned down at her.
“Oh, a century at least,” he mocked her, then was serious. “From what I hear around the Bayou, he’s still the ringleader in most of the mischief around here; sort of a leader of the more unruly elements, I understand.”
Lindsay’s brows went up.
“Oh, are there unruly elements in the Bayou?” she asked. “I’m surprised there could be, under Aunt Jennifer’s iron hand.”
“Oh, I understand they have risen up since your aunt’s immobility. You know, of course, that she used to patrol the Village rigorously and at unexpected moments and that she hadn’t a bit of patience with anything that wasn’t aimed at adding a few dollars to the Mallory estate.”
Lindsay nodded reluctantly. “That sounds like Aunt Jennifer,” she admitted unwillingly.
She was silent for a moment, and then, desiring to erase some of the criticism of her aunt, she said quickly, “We have to understand her, Dr. Corbett. The Village, the whole Bayou, has been her life from the day she was born. I doubt if she’s been away from Bayou House except when she came to Mobile to collect me after my parents died. And she couldn’t get back here fast enough then. The Bayou has been home, family, everything to her, and I suppose it’s natural for it to be the most important thing in the world to her and for her to feel a sense of responsibility, as if—oh, as if it were a cherished lover.”
Dr. Corbett said swiftly, “I quarrel with that! Not a cherished lover. That would mean she had some kindness, some compassion, a tenderness in her heart for the object of her affections. I think what she feels toward the Bayou is a sense of proprietorship that makes her impatient of anything that questions her domination.”
“I suppose you are right,” Lindsay agreed reluctantly. “It’s just that I feel like such a heel, saying ugly things about her. After all, she is my aunt, and I do owe her a lot.”
“Which, according to Dr. Potter, you have repaid many times over, if there ever was a debt, which I doubt!” Dr. Corbett said firmly, and added gently, “But if it makes you feel unhappy to discuss her, we won’t. Let’s talk about something pleasant, shall we, such as when we are going to dine at the Tavern again and when I’m going to see you again.”
“Yes, let’s talk about such things,” Lindsay said with such obvious relief that Dr. Corbett took one hand from the wheel of the car and patted hers where they lay clenched in her lap.
“D’you know something, Lindsay, my girl? You’re a very nice person!” he said. Lindsay looked at him, startled by the warmth in his voice.
When they reached Bayou House he walked her to the porch steps and stood for a moment at the bottom, looking up at her where she stood above him at the top of the steps.
“You haven’t told me when you’ll dine out in the luxury and magnificence of the Tavern, Lindsay,” he reminded her.
“Well, after all, I am on duty, Doctor,” she told him.
“Of course, but not twenty-four-hour duty,” he pointed out. “How about Monday night? I’ll pick you up here same time as tonight.”
“I’ll be ready,” she promised gaily.
There was a moment when she felt quite sure he was going to kiss her good night. But again, as that first time, he merely grinned a heartwarming grin, turned and walked back to his car. As she moved quietly along the hall toward her own room, Miss Jennifer called out to her.
“Is that you, Lindsay? Come in here.”
“Still awake, Aunt Jennifer?” asked Lindsay as she stepped into the bedroom.
“Did you think I could sleep, alone here in the house?” demanded Miss Jennifer.
“Why, Aunt Jennifer, you never indicated that you were afraid to be alone here,” Lindsay protested. “And anyway, Lucy-Mae and Jasper are here.”
“In their cabin well out of reach of my voice if I should scream.”
“Then you should have told me you didn’t want me to go out.”
“I wanted a report on what’s going on at the Tavern, and you were the only one I could trust to get it for me,” Miss Jennifer interrupted. “Well, what’s going on down there?”
“Pete will be here tomorrow afternoon to give you a complete report,” Lindsay answered warily.
The sharp old eyes beneath the absurd ruffled cap narrowed.
“So he’s trying to put on a poor mouth, is he? He claims business is bad, the lying cheat!” Miss Jennifer growled. “Since I had to stop making the rounds, they are all trying to cheat me, take advantage of me! Well, they are not going to get away with it. I’ll convince that good-for-nothing Pete of that, and he can spread the word among the boat captains and the manager of the packing sheds. I want you to check up on Larson, who runs the commissary, too. He’s in a good spot to rob me deaf, dumb and blind, he thinks! But I’ve got news for all of them. They have to get up mighty early in the morning to swindle Jennifer Mallory, even if she is a helpless, defenseless old woman!”
“You, Aunt Jennifer,” Lindsay told her firmly, “are about as defenseless as a Sherman tank!”
Miss Jennifer looked pleased, and Lindsay asked, “Is there anything I can get you to make you more comfortable?”
“Nothing, thanks,” answered Miss Jennifer, and looked almost as surprised at the word as Lindsay was.
“Why, you’re welcome, Aunt Jennifer, always,” Lindsay answered. For a moment their eyes met and locked, and as Lindsay went on to her own room and to bed, she had for the first time a faint glimmer of hope that she and her aunt might be able to find a route toward friendship. But the hope was very faint indeed, and after a moment she grimaced at it and tucked it into the far reaches of her mind.
Chapter Five
Lindsay kept her word to Pete, and tried hard the next morning to persuade Miss Jennifer to deal gently with him. But she soon saw that the more earnestly she pleaded, the more stubbornly determined Miss Jennifer became. So at last, with a weary little shrug, she gave up the effort. Therefore when Pete arrived soon after lunch and looked anxiously at her, she could only shake her head and spread her hands, palms up, in a little gesture that announced her helplessness to do anything for him.
Pete nodded, his round, ruddy face set and his eyes bleak.
“Sure, Miss Lindsay. I reckon I knew you couldn’t do anything for me, but it’s a man’s way to grab at a straw when he’s going down fo
r the last time,” he said, and braced himself as Lindsay led the way inside.
“Pete is here, Aunt Jennifer,” she announced as she opened the door to the bedroom.
“And high time, too,” snapped the old woman, the light of battle in her eyes. “Show him in, and then you get out.”
“Of course, Aunt Jennifer,” said Lindsay, and stood aside as Pete walked past her into the room.
“Howdy, Miss Jennifer,” said Pete.
And Lindsay closed the door on Miss Jennifer’s angry growl.
Back on the verandah, in the old swing, behind vines that were budding and leafing out, she sat for a long time, unable to close her ears to the murmur of voices that came through the open windows: Pete’s voice anxious and conciliatory, Miss Jennifer’s angry and demanding.
Deliberately Lindsay closed her ears to the voices and her mind to the scene before her. Instead of the world of Bayou House, that she had hoped she need never see again, she saw the beloved world of the hospital, where she had known happiness and friends and service. With all her heart she yearned to be back there, but her strong sense of duty, instilled in her by Miss Jennifer’s stern training, told her she was needed here and that she must stay until Amalie could come back. And who could tell when that might be?
At last Pete came out on the verandah, showing signs of the ordeal through which Miss Jennifer had put him.
“Thirty days she’s give me, Miss Lindsay,” he burst out. “Thirty days to force collection of all the credit slips the men have given me and to bring business up to where she can realize a profit, she says! The men would pay if they could, Miss Lindsay. But they just ain’t got the money, and the shrimp boats won’t be in for more than thirty days. If they had a good haul, they’ll have money to spend. But there’s been a disease that’s hit the shrimp beds close at hand, and the boats have had to go way down south.”
“I’m sorry, Pete!”
Pete managed a faint attempt at a smile.
“Sure, Miss Lindsay, I know you are, and I thank you for trying to help me,” he told her.
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