Corbin’s thoughts lingered on Julie Jones as he parked the car in front of the telephone office. He had liked looking at her, liked her lack of pretension. She was a girl, yet she was a woman, too. He doubted that she was even aware that she was warm, pretty and fresh as a summer breeze. He wondered if she had a steady beau and how long she had been tied down taking care of that family.
Inside the telephone office, the mayor was talking to Frank Adler, the druggist, and old Doc Curtis. The doctor was stoop-shouldered, cantankerous and tired.
“Doc went down to see Mrs. Bloom’s little boy this morning and says Mrs. Bloom has two black eyes. The woman was so crippled up she could hardly get up off her chair.”
“There’s nothing I can do if the woman won’t file charges,” Corbin said angrily. “I’d like to get that man of hers behind a barn somewhere and give him some of what he’s been giving that woman.”
“He’s Wood’s man,” the druggist said quietly.
“What’s the matter with Wood that he lets him get away with beating his wife?”
“I asked her why she stayed with him. She says she has no place to go.” Doc threw up his hands.
“She’ll be going to the cemetery if she isn’t careful.” Corbin wiped his brow with his handkerchief. There wasn’t anything that riled him as much as a man beating a woman or a child.
“What’s the matter with her boy?” Ira asked.
“I’m pretty sure it’s diphtheria. I’m going back when I leave here. I came back to the office to get some antitoxin.”
“Good Lord, Doc. Could we have an epidemic on our hands?”
“Could be several cases before it’s done. Seldom have I seen a single case without others popping up.” Doc Curtis shrugged. “I’m putting a quarantine sign on the house.” He went to the door. “By the way, I’ve got a young fellow coming in today or tomorrow. If he likes it here he might stay and give me a hand until I kick the bucket. Then he’ll take over.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to retire, Doc,” Frank said.
“I didn’t say I was goin’ to retire. I said I was going to get some help. By jinks damn,” he snorted, “I’m not ready for the grave yet!”
The druggist followed Doc Curtis out, and Ira asked Corbin, “Find out anything at the Johnsons’?”
“Walter’s son, Evan, and three of the Jones boys said he was home.”
“Hell. I’da sworn it was him.”
“I’m reasonably sure it wasn’t him this time. I want to talk to Doc Curtis about it but not in front of Frank.”
Corbin had his chance to talk to the doctor when he followed him down to the Blooms’, where he tacked a red quarantine sign on the front of the house. Corbin stood in the yard with his foot on the edge of the porch and watched the doctor.
“How about Bloom?” he asked.
“If he goes into the house, he stays.”
“I’d better go up to the bank and tell him.”
“Good idea.”
“Doc, a girl was attacked down by the river the other night.”
Doc Curtis turned. His sharp eyes caught Corbin’s. “Raped?”
“Yeah. She’s about fifteen, I’d say.”
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Doc swore. “Who’s the girl?”
“Holstead. Her father hauls coal for the railroad.”
“I know her. Name escapes me—”
“Fern. She was really scared—said her father would blame her.”
“Ignorant shit-head. Guess there’s no chance that the girl will come to see me.”
“None.”
“I’ll go by there today—talk about the diphtheria, and maybe she’ll tell me something.”
“He came on to her from behind, covered her eyes and her mouth and threw her to the ground. When he left, he took whatever he had used as a blindfold.”
“It’s the same. He’s done it four times before …that I know of. No telling how many I don’t know about.”
“Four times that you know of? Gol-damn, Doc. How long has this been going on?”
“I suspected it …’bout six years ago, but what the hell could I do about it? Pregnant girls hustled out of town and folks depending on me to keep my mouth shut.”
“Do you reckon it’s one man, or is this the horniest town in northern Missouri?”
“He likes ’em young … fifteen or sixteen. One was fourteen. None had a clue as to who he was.”
“I’d no more than hit town when I heard of Walter Johnson. Could it be him?”
“Could be, but I doubt it. Walter isn’t smart enough to get by with it all this time.”
“Thanks for the chat, Doc. I’d better get up to the bank and tell Bloom about the quarantine.”
* * *
During supper Joe casually mentioned that he was going into town with Evan and suggested Jack should come along and that they would go see if he could try out for the Fertile baseball team.
Julie held her breath when her father asked, “What’er ya goin’ to town for?”
“Kick up my heels.” Joe laughed. “I’m not a kid anymore, Pa.”
“I forget about that, son. Look out for your brother.”
“Can I go, Joe?” Jason spoke up.
“Not this time, birdbrain. We might play a few games of pool, and the billiard parlor is no place for a squirt like you.”
“I’d wait in the car.”
“Can I go, too? Ple-ase, Joe—” Joy smiled her sweetest smile.
“You’re too little,” Jason said with disgust.
“So are you, so there!” Joy stuck her tongue out at Jason.
“Julie,” Jill wailed. “That’s disgusting! She’s got food in her mouth.”
“Who would like a slice of watermelon?”
When the meal was over, Julie desperately wanted to be finished with the cleanup and be upstairs when Evan came to pick up Joe and Jack. She went to the porch to call Jason to come take the watermelon rinds to the hogs and heard the sound of his car coming down the lane. It rounded the side of the house and he was looking directly at her. She managed a wave before darting back into the house.
“Can you finish here, Jill? I’m going upstairs for a minute.”
“I know what you’re up to. You don’t want Evan to see you in that faded old dress.”
“Oh, hush,” Julie said irritably. She closed the door to the stairs, something they seldom did in the summer, and hurried up the steps to the room where she could look down on the yard behind the house.
Evan wore khaki pants, left over from his army days, and a blue shirt. His blond hair was combed back. He was neat as always. Now he was talking earnestly to Jason while Jack and Joe stood by. Joy came running and screeching from the barn. She ran straight to Evan. He scooped her up, unmindful or unknowing that she’d been playing in the dirt.
Julie grimaced to think of Evan’s clean shirt being soiled. Joy wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.
Joe tried to peel Joy from Evan. Evan laughed and turned away, much to Joy’s delight. Julie’s glance caught her father standing in the doorway of the chicken house watching the horseplay. He hadn’t come forward to greet Evan. Julie turned her eyes away; and when she looked back, he had gone inside.
Julie watched until Evan carried Joy to the porch and set her down. Jason went to take her hand and held her there until the car had turned around in the farmyard and started back up the lane.
In the room she shared with Joy, Julie sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed her palm to her chest. Her heart was beating like a drum. If she had just refused the invitation the night he asked her to go out with him, she wouldn’t be in this dilemma. She had hardly slept a wink that night. Her mind had gone over each word he’d said from the minute she had looked up from licking the fudge knife and had seen him watching her.
Then on Sunday, when they had met at the side of the house and he had put his hands on her shoulders to steady her, she had been thrilled to the center of her being.
Thinking about it now, could she go against her father’s wishes if he forbade her to go out with Evan?
Oh, Lord. She hoped she wouldn’t be forced to make that decision.
Julie was in bed but not asleep when the car came down the lane and stopped beside the back porch. She heard male voices, then the car doors slam. The car lights momentarily lit the bedroom as Evan turned it around and started back down the lane. Joe and Jack came up the stairs to their room.
Soon all was quiet.
* * *
“We’re closing down, Walter. Go on home.”
“I ain’t ready to go.” Walter chalked the end of his pool cue and lined up a shot on the table.
“It’s twenty minutes past closing time.”
“Then close up an’ go on. I ain’t stoppin’ ya.”
The proprietor of the billiard parlor looked at the glass clock, the hanging lamp with the stained-glass shade and the pool cue in the hand of a dangerous, unpredictable man and sighed.
“I’ll wait until you finish the game.”
Harvey Knapp had come to Fertile five years before and opened Knapp’s Billiard Parlor. In the years he had been here, the only trouble he’d had had been with Walter Johnson. He tried to run a good, clean place where men could come in, shoot a game of pool and have a drink of near beer without a hassle.
“I want a beer.”
“Can’t do it, Walter. I can’t sell beer after midnight.”
“Who says?”
“The town council says.”
“And ya kowtow to ’em?”
“It’s the law.”
“I ain’t askin’ to buy one.” Walter took a bottle from the bib of his overalls and drank several big gulps.
“It’s closing time, Walter. I’ve been here since noon today and I’m tired. I want to close up and go home.”
“Ya got pussy waitin’ at home?” Walter asked casually and shot a ball that went into a pocket.
“I don’t like that kind of talk.” Harvey’s face reddened with anger.
“I ain’t carin’ if ya like it. I seen yore woman. She’s got a old pussy—all stretched outta shape. I like young, tight pussies. Ain’t ya ever had a hankerin’ for a young, tight puss, Harvey?”
“Get out of here, you nasty-minded pervert!”
“Well, la-di-da. Ain’t nothin’ nasty ’bout pussy.”
Harvey went to the phone in the back of the parlor, picked up the earpiece and twisted the crank to ring for central.
“I heared that s-some folks what calls in the law on other folks s-sometimes gets their house burnt down. Ss—right, ain’t hit, Harvey?” His words were becoming slurred.
The threat registered slowly. Fear for his family held Harvey silent when the operator answered.
“Number, please.” Then: “This is the operator. Is someone on the line? Is that you, Mr. Knapp?”
“I’m sorry. I rang by mistake.”
Harvey slowly hung up the receiver and, ignoring Walter, walked to the front of the building and opened the door. He stood breathing in the warm night air. Lights were off in every store building along Main Street. Not a car was in sight. Harvey stood there with his hands in his pockets, wondering what to do.
He’d had small problems with the town bully, but Johnson had never threatened him before. This was the first time he’d ever been alone with the man, and the nasty talk about his wife had almost caused him to do something foolish.
Harvey was about to turn and go back into the parlor when he saw the police chief come around the corner, checking doors as he did each night. Harvey glanced nervously over his shoulder. Walter was still at the pool table.
“Isn’t it late for you to be open, Mr. Knapp?”
“Well, yes. I have a customer who wanted to finish his game.”
Corbin glanced inside. “Evening, Mr. Johnson.”
“Howdy-do.” Walter didn’t look up.
“I’ll be getting along. Evening to you, Mr. Knapp.” Corbin winked as he passed Harvey.
“Evening, Chief.”
Harvey lingered at the door long enough to see Corbin step into the recessed doorway of the building next door before he went back into the parlor. Walter had put his cue stick in the rack and was walking with his feet spread wide to keep his balance.
“I’m gone,” he said as he passed Harvey and went out the door.
Harvey breathed a sigh of relief and quickly turned off the lights. He looked up and down the street for a sign of Walter Johnson before he stepped out onto the sidewalk and locked the door.
Chief Appleby appeared swiftly and silently. Harvey jumped sideways.
“Lord, Chief, you scared me.”
“Having trouble with Johnson?”
“The man’s no good to himself or anyone else.” Harvey put his keys in his pocket. “He said folks that call the law get their houses burnt down.” He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. “Can’t something be done about him?”
“Not until he does something I can jail him for.”
“He was drunk as a skunk, but he holds his liquor.”
“He’s conditioned to it.”
“I’d like to smear his nasty mouth all over his face.”
“Talkin’ nasty, was he?”
“Real nasty.”
“I’ll see that he leaves town. I saw his horse down by the depot and knew that he was around someplace. Good night, Mr. Knapp.”
Chapter 13
JULIE COOKED BREAKFAST FOR HER FATHER, Joe and Jack. They planned to cut down a large oak tree that had been split by lightning the summer before. They would drag the huge logs up behind the barn. Then, with a two-man saw, they would cut them into lengths suitable for the cookstove and the Acme heater but would wait until cold weather to split and stack them close to the house.
Joe and Jack took turns milking. This morning it was Joe who brought in the pail of fresh milk, set it on the bench on the porch and stuck his head in the kitchen door.
“When I take this to the cellar do you want me to bring up last night’s milking?”
“Yes, please. And Joe, cover it tightly. Yesterday I found a fly floating on top.”
“You’re too fussy. Flies don’t eat much.”
Joe avoided looking at his sister during the meal and was careful not to be left alone with her. Julie wanted to kick him. He must have known how anxious she was to hear if Evan had said anything about taking her out tonight. Maybe he’d forgotten about it! Oh, Lord, how humiliating it would be if she got dressed to go and he didn’t show up.
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