“You look worn-out. Why don’t you lie down and sleep for a while?”
She nodded again, stepped up into the truck and sat down on the bunk. When she was sure that she was alone, she covered her face with her hands and allowed the tears to run between her fingers and down her cheeks. She cried silently, not from grief over Elmer, but because she felt as if she were floating on a river of unreality and there was a waterfall just ahead.
A wave of fatigue washed over her. She loosened the top buttons at the neck of her blouse and lay back on the bunk. Her spine straightened painfully. She flexed her shoulders and rolled her head from side to side to ease her tense muscles. Her body was tired to the point of collapse.
“What will happen next?” she whispered into the silence that gave no answer.
Alvin had tried to assure her that something would be worked out so that she could continue on with the caravan. Knowing how Brady felt about her made it all the more humiliating to have to accept his help.
Sometime later she heard the sound of voices coming from the Luker camp. Then a car passed on the highway. It was time to face what had to be done.
She sat up and reached for the bundle of things taken from Elmer’s pockets. Inside she found a ring of keys, pocketknife, worn billfold, pocket watch and some loose change. In the billfold was fifty-eight dollars. Thank goodness it was enough for the burial. She was sure that Elmer had the money from the sale of his house and the ice company put away somewhere, but it didn’t matter: She wasn’t entitled to it.
When Goldie, his wife, was notified of his death, she would search out every nook and cranny for whatever he had left. Everything he had, including the truck, now belonged to her even if she had gone off and left him.
Margie removed the pad from the box she had been sleeping on and tried each of the keys in the padlock until she found the one that opened it. Feeling jumpy, as if Elmer might come around to the back of the truck and catch her searching through his private possessions, she opened the lid.
In one end of the box were several pairs of neatly folded overalls and shirts, a black serge suit and black shoes with socks stuffed in the toes. Margie wondered if this was the suit he’d worn when he and Goldie were married. On the top of his underwear was a white shirt with a black string tie in the pocket.
At the other end of the box was a mantel clock wrapped in a piece of blanket, a square metal box secured with another padlock, a handgun and several boxes of shells. Tucked down alongside of the clock was a red Prince Albert tobacco can.
She took out the black suit, shook the coat and held it to the light. The suit appeared to be new. The white shirt was wrinkled but clean. She refolded the suit and shirt and set the shoes beside them.
Margie had the feeling of invading Elmer’s privacy when she fitted a key in the lock of the metal box to open it. There wasn’t much in it: two flat, round snuff cans with something heavy in them, apparently coins. A half dozen letters were tied with a string; an envelope held a cameo necklace. There was also a lady’s lapel watch and a pair of baby shoes.
She pulled one of the envelopes from the stack, opened the flap and gasped in amazement. Instead of a letter, the envelope held four fifty-dollar bills. When she recovered from the surprise of finding the money, she looked in the next five envelopes. Two one-hundred-dollar bills were in each.
In the last envelope was a two-sheet letter. She put the sheets back in the envelope still so shocked she didn’t bother to read the letter. With shaking hands, she retied the envelopes, put them back in the metal box and locked it.
She had never in all her life seen so much money at one time. She closed the lid on the wooden box and replaced the padlock. It didn’t even occur to her to claim the money. Elmer had married, so, of course, it belonged to his wife.
Goldie would be overjoyed. Damn her!
Margie had never seen her father in anything but overalls. The shiny black shoes she had placed beside the suit that she had laid out for Brady to take to the funeral parlor looked as if they had never been worn. She pulled a sock from a shoe. Rolling the top of the sock down to turn it right side out, she felt a hard lump in the toe and pulled out two fifty-dollar bills folded in a small tight square. She stared at them dumbfounded for a long moment, then looked in the other sock and found the same. Two hundred more dollars.
Margie tucked the money in her skirt pocket and quickly searched the pockets of the suit. She found nothing but a stick of Juicy Fruit gum. She was refolding the trousers when Brady appeared. He stood at the end of the truck, his hat pulled down over his eyes.
“Margie?”
“He had a suit.”
“Do you want to go to town with me?”
“No.”
“I think you should. The undertaker will want to know a few things.”
“I don’t even know how old he was,” she said irritably. “He didn’t think enough of me to even tell me he had married—for the third time. I had to find it out when someone came into the café where I was working.”
“The date of his birth would be on his driver’s license if he had one. Did you look in his billfold?”
She held out the billfold. “I only looked to see if there was enough money to bury him.” She turned her back and picked up the stack of folded clothes.
“He was born in ’85,” Brady said, slipping a card back in the billfold. “That makes him forty-eight.”
“That sounds about right. Granny said he was twenty-five when I was born and he had already buried one wife.”
“Was he born there in Conway?”
“As far as I know.”
“I wish you’d come with me. You don’t have to get out of the car if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t want to go,” she said stubbornly. “If you don’t want to take the burial clothes, I’ll ask Deke.”
“It isn’t that I don’t want to go,” he said patiently. “I think it would be good for you to get away from here for a while.”
“Well, I don’t. I’ve got thinking to do. I can do it better here by myself. I’ve got to decide what to do.”
“Are you worried that we’ll all pull out and leave you here by yourself? We’ll not do that.”
“I won’t be by myself. Deke will help me sell the truck. The sheriff will help me locate Goldie. She’ll come running if she thinks she’s getting some money.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“It isn’t a matter of wanting. It’s what I’ve got to do.”
Brady saw the fatigue in her face, the dark circles beneath her eyes. “Why don’t you lie down and sleep for a while? I’ll give the undertaker the information.”
“Pay him with the money in the billfold.”
“You’ve got friends here, Margie. Don’t push them away.”
“I appreciate your staying for Elmer’s burial.”
“We’re not staying for Elmer. We’re staying for you.”
“When he’s in the ground, your obligation will be over. I’ve always taken care of myself, paid my own way. I’ve never been a burden on anyone and don’t intend to start now.”
Brady looked at her long and steadily. He saw her quivering lips, her chin tilted defiantly, the overbright eyes that were trying to hold back tears. She was tired and scared and, Lord, how he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that she wasn’t alone. Instead he reached for the clothes and backed away.
He had taken only a few steps when he heard the back flap on the truck drop down.
When Margie awoke, she realized that the sun had gone down and that she had slept the day away. She could smell the smoke from the supper fires. While she slept, someone had stepped up into the truck and covered her with a sheet.
She sat up on the side of the bunk and ran her forked fingers through her hair. Her stomach growled, and she had to use the outhouse. Dreading to leave the truck but knowing that she must, she ran a comb through her hair and held it back from her face by slipping a ribbon beneath it,
tying it in a bow and moving the bow back to be covered by her hair.
She made it to the outhouse without being intercepted, but she wasn’t so lucky on the way back. Foley Luker stopped her to invite her to eat supper with them.
“Thank you, but I’ve got something laid out.”
“If there’s anything we can do, let us know. Would you like Mona to come over and stay with you?”
“No, but thanks.” Margie shook her head and looked directly at Sugar, who had come to stand beside her husband. “I’ll manage just fine.” She walked away, her head high.
“She don’t want Mona. She wants to sleep with Brady,” Sugar said spitefully and loud enough for Margie to hear.
Foley turned on his wife. “Shut up! Don’t you have anything nice to say about anybody?” He stalked off and left her standing.
Margie climbed into the truck and looked in the icebox. The day before, Elmer had bought ice as well as eggs, a ring of baloney and milk. In the cupboard were bread, crackers, pork and beans and canned peaches. Margie buttered two slices of bread and cut the baloney in chunks. She sat on the bunk and ate slowly.
“Darlin’? Are you all right?” Deke came to stand at the end of the truck.
“I’m fine, Deke. I was tired and slept the day away.”
“It’s what ya needed, darlin’. Why don’t ya come up to the house and stay with Mama? I’d stay here with ya, but I’m goin’ to be workin’ on a motor that was brought in from the ranch where I used to work.”
“I don’t need anyone with me, Deke. I’ll stay right here. I’ve got to decide what I’m going to do.”
“Ya know yo’re welcome to stay here long as ya want. And if I can help in any way, ya only got to ask.”
“I know that, and I’ll not hesitate to ask.”
“Get some rest, darlin’.”
When she finished eating, Margie put the back flap down, filled the washdish with water from the barrel, washed herself from head to toe and felt considerably better.
From where he sat eating supper with the Putmans, Brady had seen Margie leave the truck, go to the outhouse and talk with Foley on the way back. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but he was certain that Sugar said something after Margie had left that didn’t sit well with Foley. He had stalked off leaving his wife standing with her hands on her hips glaring after him. It was about time he got that woman in line. She was a walking, talking troublemaker.
Brady brought his attention back to what Alvin was saying.
“It’s too bad that Elmer went the way he did. The man turned sour the last week or so. I was having my doubts about going partners with him in the ice business when we got to California. Luker said the same.”
“You don’t have to worry about that now.”
“Margie is as nice a girl as I’ve ever met, and Elmer treated her like dirt.” Grace passed around boiled eggs. She had bought several dozen from Mrs. Bales. It was a treat to eat them. She usually had to save them for cooking.
“Rusty, will you take the shell off mine?” Anna Marie put the egg in Rusty’s hand. It was amazing to Brady how the child had adapted to Rusty’s blindness.
“Sure, little puddin’.” Rusty peeled the egg and ran his sensitive fingertips over it to make sure it was free of shell pieces. “There’s salt here on my plate if you want to use it.”
“Thank you, Rusty. Can I give Blackie a bite of my bread?”
Once again Brady thanked his lucky stars he had met up with the Putmans. But Anna Marie was becoming so attached to them that he feared her reaction when they parted company in California.
“I’ll go over and talk to Margie.” Alvin placed his empty plate on the table. “Tomorrow after the service we should get on down the road.”
“What will we do if she refuses what we’ve talked about?” There was concern in Brady’s voice. He didn’t understand Margie’s hostility toward him. Nor did he understand why he was so concerned about that hostility. He only knew, deep down, that he wasn’t going off and leaving her to flounder around by herself.
“There isn’t anything we can do. She’s a grown woman. Do you want to come with me, hon?” he asked Grace.
“I’ll come if you want me to, but it might be better if you talked to her alone.” Grace slipped her hand under his arm and hugged it to her. “You can talk the skin off a rabbit when you set your mind to it.”
“Bein’ able to talk comes in handy once in a while. I talked you into marryin’ me even though your pa said I wasn’t worth the powder it would take to blow me up. He said that if you hitched up with me, you and a passel of younguns would end up in the poorhouse.”
“He was wrong, and I’ve not been a bit sorry I chose you over that sissified corset salesman he wanted me to marry.”
Alvin laughed and hugged her. “You could have had free corsets for life.”
“Who needs ’em?”
“You sure don’t. Even after twenty-three years you’re as trim as you were at eighteen.”
“Sweet-talkin’ me, ain’t ya? You’re not getting another egg no matter how you rattle on, if that’s what you’re anglin’ for. They’re for the noon meal tomorrow.”
“You’re a mean, cruel woman, Gracie Louise Putman,” Alvin said affectionately, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
“Go on with you. Just don’t forget that Margie’s got pride she hasn’t used yet. Tell her I’m expecting her for breakfast in the morning. After I finish with the dishes Anna Marie and I are going up and sit on the porch with Mrs. Bales. I’m sure glad we stopped here. I’ve taken a likin’ to that woman.”
Brady watched the couple, seeing the loving, comfortable way they were with each other. It brought back deeply buried memories of his mother and father. They had loved each other, and their love had included their sons. He remembered how his father would pull his mother down on his lap and nestle his face in the curve of her neck. Poor Brian had thought he was going to share with Becky what their parents had. But it hadn’t worked out that way.
Brady vowed, then and there, never to marry until he found a woman who would love him with all her heart and soul. One who would stand beside him through good times and bad, be his best friend as well as his lover.
Loud voices jarred Brady from his reverie. At the other end of the campground Sugar was arguing with Foley. He had moved the car from the garage and parked it beside their trailer. His hands were on her shoulders trying to restrain her. Suddenly she swung her hand and slapped him. When he released her, she tried to hit him again. He caught her arm and pushed her away.
Sugar stood still for a moment. Low, angry words streamed from her lips, then she turned, left the campground and walked down the highway toward town.
Chapter 18
FOLEY STOOD AT THE BACK OF HIS CAR and watched Sugar leave. This trip had been an eye-opener. It suddenly occurred to him that her actions didn’t hurt nearly as much as they would have a few weeks ago.
Sugar was showing an altogether different side of herself from the one she had presented when they first met and during the first few weeks after they had married. Good Lord, how can a woman be so sweet and loving one minute and a real bitch the next? Foley had begun to wonder if his loneliness and his desire for sexual satisfaction had caused him to make a complete fool out of himself. Now he no longer had to wonder.
Let a pretty young thing make up to a sex-starved man, and he loses what few brains he ever had.
“Pa?” Jody had come up beside him. “Do you want me to go get her?”
Foley didn’t answer for a moment, then said, “No, son. Let her walk off her snit. I’ll go get her in a little while.” He turned a tired, almost defeated face to Jody. “Thank you for your patience. My marrying her hasn’t turned out like I thought it would. I know this has been hard for you and Mona, and I’m sorry, son.”
“Harder on Mona than on me.”
“Well, what’s done is done,” Foley said with resignation. “I’ll keep my eyes open from now on.�
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“She was so different from Mama that it was hard for me and Mona to warm up to her.”
“It’s true. She’s nothing like your mother. I wasn’t looking for someone to take her place. No one will ever do that.” Foley’s voice became rough, and he walked quickly away.
Margie always liked the early evening hours. She loved to watch the setting sun change the colors of the sky and to inhale the cool, fresh air, with the smell of the greening pastures, as it swept across the land.
When she was younger and her granny was alive, everything had been easy. She had never imagined that life would be so hard, so lonely, so full of disappointments, and could end so quickly. Like any young girl, she had dreamed of meeting a strong man who would love her with all his heart. And, as couples did in the movies, they would build a life together, fill a home with children and laughter and live happily ever after.
She supposed that was what was the matter with her now. There was an emptiness within her, a yearning that still begged for that fairy-tale dream. She was a woman with a woman’s love to give; and in her ignorance she had reached out to Brady Hoyt because he was handsome and had been kind and attentive when she so badly needed a friend.
She had been blinded by loneliness. What a fool she was, and how he must have secretly laughed at the naive small-town girl with the big dreams.
“Evenin’, Margie.” Alvin approached as Margie stepped down from the truck.
“Hello, Mr. Putman.”
“We would have had you come to supper, but Brady said you were sleeping. Grace sends an invite to breakfast in the morning.”
“That’s nice of her.”
“Can we talk a little?”
“Sure. I’ll get Elmer’s folding chair for you.” She reached in the truck for the chair, took it to the front of the truck, then perched herself on the fender.
“Nice evening.” Alvin sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him. “I thought Missouri’s weather changed fast. It can’t hold a candle to Oklahoma weather. The storm we had last night was a real tail twister. I only wish Elmer had come with us to the cellar.”
“It was a freaky thing that happened to him. He was in the wrong place when the electric line broke.”
Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] Page 19