The Life After War Collection

by Angela White

  “Sorry, Brady,” she murmured.

  “I’m not,” I told her, trying to force a grin. “It’s all worth it. I’ll be back.”

  An hour later, I was there with snacks and a bandage around my ankle, pretending as if it didn’t hurt because I didn’t want to miss my Angie time.

  We exchanged gifts and she surprised me with the additions to the hand code. They were good. I promised her I would practice them. The new wallet, I tucked into my pocket.

  The locket, Angie put in a coffee can under our rubble pile, and that sweet smile didn’t leave her face the entire time. It was more than worth the pain.

  2

  When I returned to the farm the next day, I pretended to fall from the barn ladder to cover the injury that needed stitches, but I still helped with the baling and branding. I didn’t want the farm to suffer–which explained why I hadn’t told my mother about the things that went on here. After some of the conversations I’d been around when I first arrived, I had gotten the impression that she already knew and ignored it because Judy kept it quiet. I no longer thought that was true. Mother hated drinking, gambling, and fornication–three past times that were standard here. I wasn’t a big drinker yet, but I did like to wager and unfortunately, Jeanie liked to fool around. I discovered that on our forth date.

  We’d had a nice but short dinner in a neighboring town and I thought she was bored. When she suggested we drive around for a while and search for damage from the twister, I didn’t understand what she wanted. Our driver slid the tinted window up between us after winking at me, but by then, it was too late to invent an excuse. Not that I could have found one Jeanie would have accepted anyway. She was extremely stubborn, but not in the cute ways that Angie was. Jeanie was selfish.

  Jeanie slid over and put herself under my arm, and then she groaned! Did I smell bad? I’d had Douglas crank the air conditioning to make certain I wasn’t sweating and stinking.

  “Great cologne,” Jeanie purred, cold fingers going to my hair.

  Uncomfortable, I grabbed her hands and took a deep breath. What had Daniel said? Oh, yeah. Lots of kissing. Girls liked that.

  I wasn’t sure what came after and just hoped I got some of it right.

  Fifteen minutes later, I exploded inside my jeans with Jeanie wriggling on top of me like a snake. She had already screamed out her happiness, making me lose my momentum. She’d sounded like a cow bellowing.

  It had then taken some effort on her part to get me there, which was odd since I could knock myself out in just a few minutes. I realized the difference at that moment, but there was no time to explore it as Douglas tapped on the window.

  I assumed that meant we were almost out of alone time and I tried to be a gentleman. I helped her fix her shirt and kissed her cheek as I whispered thank you.

  “Yeah, sure.” Jeanie waved off my gratitude as if she did this a lot. “Next time I’ll warm you up first. It’ll be better.”

  I didn’t know how I felt about those words. I wasn’t sure I had wanted it this time.

  I walked Jeanie to her door a short time later, not impressed with her big house any more than I was with my mother’s home.

  I placed a chaste peck on her lips in case her parents were watching us through the windows and Jeanie giggled as if she wasn’t carrying some of my skin under those red nails. I was relieved when she disappeared inside.

  Walking to the car, I sighed. I didn’t like having a girlfriend so far. The girls got everything they wanted on the dates and the boys were left in the cold. I was more interested in someone who would be my equal.

  I slid into the seat, grimacing at the smell. I lowered the window and put my head against the seat as Douglas got us rolling.

  I’m sorry, Angie.

  Douglas had lowered the panel while I walked Jeanie to her door, and he glanced at me in the mirror now. I could sense he wanted to say something.

  I lifted a brow. “What?”

  Douglas cleared his throat, watching the road. “Some girls are for practicing. Others are for marrying.”

  I snorted out laughter, making him frown, but I couldn’t help it. I’d just been thinking that Jeanie would do as a substitute for my loneliness when I couldn’t get back to Angie.

  “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

  Douglas, insulted by my amusement, glowered and drove me to the farm without saying anything else. To show him I honestly did appreciate his advice, I went to his window when I got out.

  He rolled it down with a sullen glower. “Yes, sir?”

  “Will you please tell Rosemary that I enjoyed her hooker?”

  Shocked, Douglas cracked an unwilling grin and shook his head. “No, sir, I will not!”

  I was still laughing as he drove away. My words had told him which type of girl I considered Jeanie to be. She was easy, a pushy tushy was what my cousins would call it, and tonight had proved we weren’t on the same level. That was okay, though. She could teach me powerful things that I would use to please the woman of my dreams someday, and even if that didn’t happen, I would still know more than my lying relatives who thought spying made them experts on sex. Neither of them had ever had a date that I was aware of and it was about time I used that. The kids here still didn’t know exactly what to make of me and I had decided I wanted to be a leader. That was also practice for when I was older. The Marines needed men who could take an injury and still convince others to work and fight. I would see if I had what it took for that before I ever signed up.

  Angie

  Mother Brady hated Halloween. Claiming it to be based in witchcraft, she spent two months of every year trying to convince the town council to ban it. Each year she seemed to come closer to that goal, but in 1993 she was voted down unanimously. Everyone wanted to attend the show that the seniors from the prissy high school had been promising. The flyers were hilarious and we all wanted to know which kids would come as the opposite sex. Many of us had never seen a man in a skirt and supposedly, the teachers were also participating. It was called the Backward Senior Halloween Show and everyone was looking forward to half an hour without hearing a tornado story. The last ten days had seen a lot of improvements and people here just wanted to get on with their lives now.

  I used some of my precious Patty money to buy a ticket and create an outfit that would completely disguise me. I wanted to be able to watch the show without worrying over Georgie or Mother Brady. I didn’t know how they could do it every time, but they seemed to know when I liked something because they took it away.

  I told Georgie I was going trick or treating and slipped off to get into my costume. He didn’t care. Halloween was a busy night for the restaurant and unlike the past few years where it had been too cold or too hot, tonight was beautiful. People would be out for hours.

  I had chosen to be a witch because it would let me paint my face green and put warts on. I figured that would be safe. Many of the other girls my age were also going as a witch or a magician, and I hoped I would blend in and be overlooked in my puffy black dress.

  The music pouring out of the doors of the town hall was loud and spooky, with eerie creaks and groans. Neon-painted signs pointed people to the haunted house or to the area where chairs had been set up. The haunted house took people through two of the shops that had been damaged by the tornado, giving it a very realistic feel. I had helped to paint it, but I’d hated it the whole time. I could feel the ghosts watching us in disapproval because we were still alive. I’d only gone because Georgie had said Mother Brady was complaining that I don’t do anything to help the town. I hadn’t liked how that felt. I wanted to help everyone, I just couldn’t be caught doing most of the things that I thought of trying.

  The school also had a bake sale going and I grabbed a popcorn bag to go with my PepsiFree, and then made my way through the crowd of costumed people to find a seat in the rear. I had the row to myself at first, but as the hour approached for the senior show, the seats all filled up with neighbors that I identified b
y their thoughts. Some of the costumes, like mine, were designed for complete secrecy and I couldn’t tell who they were unless I got into their minds.

  A wave of musky cologne floated over the chairs as the lights dimmed and I sat up straighter, peering around. I knew that smell!

  I couldn’t spot him in the darkened room, though and I sat back to enjoy the show, heart thumping. Marc didn’t know my costume. How could I let him know I was here? I couldn’t risk a mental message right now. There were too many people around. One of them might be sensitive to my gifts. I was discovering the hard way that my power pulled people as much as my looks did.

  The stage that had been set up was short and rickety, but no one care about that once the curtains opened. Even longing for the man that went with that musky smell couldn’t stop my mirth as the seniors came out dressed as women and proceeded to act out a date. It was the funniest thing I’d ever witnessed and my stomach was aching by the time they took their backwards bows and mooned the entire crowd.

  Mother Brady would hate it, but the rest of the town already couldn’t wait for next year’s show. They were discussing which teachers they’d like to participate as they strolled out the door. The town dance was next and few people were staying for that. It wasn’t just for couples, but that was who mostly showed up.

  I waited for the crowd to thin before going to the garbage can, ready to be out of the room that had heated up with so many bodies in it. I was almost there when a tall man in a Batman outfit grabbed my arm and shouted, “Boo!”

  Marc!

  He snatched my garbage and disposed of it, then pulled me toward the dance floor before I could protest.

  “Shh…”

  As always, I gave in and tried not to act as if I was in heaven and hell at the same time. I hadn’t expected Marc to be here. I’d heard he was still on the farm, helping with the new tobacco crop that Mother Brady was trying this year.

  Marc was a good dancer. I wasn’t. We stumbled around the floor with the other people, bumping and twirling into them. We weren’t the only ones who couldn’t navigate the steps together, and the dance floor was a fun place to be as sorry and oops became more common than Happy Halloween.

  When the dance ended, Marc led me outside and around the rear of the hall, toward the haunted house. I didn’t really like the idea of being around the ghosts in the darkness, but I wasn’t about to argue.

  We passed the entrance to the haunted house and slipped down the small embankment toward the police station. The officers were giving out candy and we ran over for a tootsie roll before going toward Mother Brady’s office. She’d opened it a few months ago, much to the displeasure of the town that already felt like she was recording their every step.

  Marc stopped behind the garbage cans by the bridge and wishing pond, pointing.

  Under the awning, Mary’s car was shining in the streetlight. Next to it, darkly dressed teenagers were tugging a tall Rumpke can toward the trunk.

  Marc raised his arm and pushed a button on a small black box.

  Across the street, the trunk flew open.

  “She just had this installed and thinks it will ruin the car somehow,” Marc confided in a laughing whisper. “I thought I’d help her with that notion.”

  “Does she know you’re here?”

  “Nope. Swiped her keys from the office. I’ll put them back before I go to the farm and she’ll never know how we got in.”

  I narrowed in on the giggling teenagers. “What’s in the garbage can?”

  The teenagers tilted the can and I saw something flow into the trunk that splattered all over the ground as well, but I couldn’t tell what it was.

  Marc fought not to laugh again. “Frogs.”

  I began to smile.

  “The best part,” Marc told me, leaning down to cover me in his scent. “Is that she doesn’t know how to work the fob yet. She’ll use the key to open it when the noise gets her attention.”

  I dissolved in silent giggles that hurt to hold in. The thought of Mother Brady screaming in fear of a frog attack was terrific. After a few hours in that trunk, the frogs would be hungry and hoppy.

  Marc moved us away from the scene as the teenagers quietly shut the trunk and vanished into the shadows. I wondered if they would find a vantage point and watch the fun. I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to be anywhere near, so I couldn’t be blamed.

  “Come on,” Marc said, tugging me behind the Chinese artifact store.

  There was a ‘closing soon’ sign that made me frown. Mary Brady just couldn’t leave people alone. She deserved all the frogs in the world on her head.

  “I can’t stay.”

  Since I hadn’t expected him to be here at all, it wasn’t a disappointment. I gave him a fast hug and then stepped away. “Thank you.”

  Marc slid his mask off and his beautiful eyes shined. “Hi, baby-cakes!”

  I snickered, thinking the size on my costume was Young Miss. I wasn’t exactly a baby anymore.

  Marc may have caught that thought because his eyes darkened and the muscles in his jaw pounded. He flashed a toothy, white grin. “Nice warts. Same smell, though. Nice.”

  Laughter changed the tension back to our friendship and I stomped my foot in mock protest. “You damn bats!”

  Caught off guard by the curse, Marc chuckled sexily, making my insides quiver. What had caused that?

  Marc noticed my unease and made a silly face that drew the sound and reaction he’d been hoping to carry back to the farm. He loved it when I laughed. I wanted to give him something more to take, but all I had on me was this outfit and a few dollars.

  Loud voices echoed from the street and Marc sighed. “I should go now.”

  He stared at me, growing serious. “You keep getting older, okay?”

  I nodded, feeling the double meaning that I didn’t completely understand yet. “I will. You keep torturing your mom for the town, okay?”

  Marc chuckled, slipping his mask back on. “It’s my honor.”

  He waited for an opening and then darted down the street, grabbing at candy bags without true intent so that people would think he was one of the wilder kids the town always had trouble with during the holidays. He was so smart. It made me proud. When I got older and he accepted his feelings for me, I would tell him that every day to make up for all the times his mother hadn’t said it.

  2

  “She wants everyone at the mausoleum for Thanksgiving.”

  Behind the counter, I perked up. It had been two weeks since I’d seen Marc on Halloween.

  “Why?” my mom asked.

  “Call and ask her!” Georgie retorted, slinging a wet dishtowel in her direction.

  Frona ducked and vanished into the rear to finish setting up for tomorrow.

  Georgie wasn’t in a good mood. The restaurant hadn’t been reopened very long from the tornado and business was bad as everyone tried to dig out. The nice Halloween rush of customers had been the last we’d seen and when money was tight, we left Georgie alone. Except, I wanted to know if everyone meant Marc. I was trying to figure out how to get that information when the buzzer sounded over the door, alerting me to a customer. I hurried to seat the two men. Georgie had told me to be extra nice and make people feel welcome.

  I flashed a bright smile at the patron. “Welcome to Georgie’s Diner.”

  “Hello, young lady. We’d like a table by the window.”

  I led the two men to our best seat, wondering where they were headed in those ugly suits and ties.

  “Coffee?” I asked, in training to wait on the tables. Snow, the main waitress, hadn’t liked it, but Georgie had insisted that my looks would help business. It was safe to say that Snow hated my guts because of it.

  “Yes. Two, black.”

  “Your waitress will bring it right out,” I simpered, hoping it was enough to make them feel very welcome. I assumed men with briefcases could afford to come back if they liked it here. Georgie said that was how businesses succeeded. Please the cu
stomer, count the money. It made sense to me, but then, I had always felt like you had to give to get. It was one of the few things that Georgie and I agreed on.

  I got the drinks together for the waitress who was covering the main floor today, hoping she wasn’t in a bad mood again. Georgie kept threatening to fire Snow for being rude, but she worked under the table and that meant cheaper than the other girls. It gave her a lot of leeway to be a pain in my butt.

  Snow came through the swinging doors in a rush, snarling, “Why didn’t you tell me!” as she flew to the table to get their drink order.

  Must need cash for another abortion, I thought, finishing with their drinks as she learned that I already had that order and came hurrying back over. This time she was angry and embarrassed.

  “You nasty little thief!” she growled at me from behind her smeared makeup. “You’re not old enough to wait tables!”

  She snatched the tray from me, and spun around. As she went, her apron string caught on the grill handle and jerked her backwards. The tray of drinks tilted…and then slid right down her blouse.

  Positive that I would be blamed, I fled while she was gasping from the hot liquid against her skin. I hurried through the kitchen, forgetting to look ahead of me and I slammed into Georgie’s big body.

  He lifted me onto my feet, frowning. “What’s going on here?”

  I opened my mouth to explain and Snow began screaming for me to come back, that she was going to beat me until I cried.

  Georgie’s displeasure faded into a smirk. “Guess you’ve got the day off.”

  He steered me toward the rear door with a sharp slap to my butt. “Stay out of trouble, will ya?”

  Grateful despite the slap, I took off just as Snow slammed through swinging doors, looking like a wet dog. Now I just needed an excuse to miss the next month.

  When I woke up the next morning with a rash and a fever, I was delighted that I wouldn’t have to go in and face her. Snow would still be just as mad today.

  The fever and rash got worse over the next week and I had to go to the emergency room. Georgie said I was screaming in my sleep, but I didn’t remember anything after the third day. I’d been miserable before I passed out. That time, the darkness had been a cool relief from the burning itch.