The Battered Body

by J. B. Stanley

  The crowd ate their treats hastily and chattered with their mouths full, too excited to pay attention to good manners. James found their boisterousness contagious.

  “I haven’t had this much fun in ages!” Lindy exclaimed, and James nodded in agreement.

  “Christmas wasn’t exactly a time of cheer for all of us,” he said. “It feels like we’re having a delayed holiday tonight.”

  With a smile, Milla hushed them and pointed at the television. The quiz show had returned and Alex briskly turned away from the camera in order to direct the viewer’s attention to the next set of categories. Seeing nothing relating to popular culture, James whispered, “He can definitely win this thing.”

  Indeed, Bennett whipped through the categories on Inventors & Inventions and The 1920s without interruption. In fact, the second question of Inventors & Inventions was “In 1858, Hymen Lipman was granted a patent to attach an eraser to this.”

  Bennett’s contestant box lit up. “What is a pencil,” he responded and briefly patted his sports coat.

  “I bet my pencil’s in his pocket!” Lucy blurted happily. “I knew it would bring him luck!”

  As the minutes ticked by and Bennett’s score increased, Harold reinserted some of his previous acuity in the Children’s Stories category. Indeed, it seemed as though he’d answered every question until Alex read, “This character’s sisters are Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail.”

  “Who is Peter Rabbit,” Bennett instantly replied as his free hand brushed his pant pocket.

  “That rabbit’s foot you gave him is lucky too!” Lindy whispered to James in awe.

  Barbara answered a few questions in the Lighthouse category, but Bennett and Harold took over on Government Agencies and Holistic Healing. By the time Bennett had answered the last Daily Double, which featured a question on herbal tea, correctly, he was leading his competition by three thousand dollars.

  When the last series of commercials appeared onscreen, several members of the fire station’s audience began to pace back and forth in anxiety. James also felt seized by nervous energy. Deciding to replace the cup of coffee he had allowed to grow cold, he offered to fetch desserts for the women seated around him. He moved rapidly, fearing that the show would resume, but his haste made him clumsy and he spilled sugar all over the floor and nearly overturned the coffee urn.

  Armed with a fresh cup of coffee and several brownies, James returned to the table just in time for Final Jeopardy.

  “I missed the category!” He slapped his forehead in disgust and looked at Lucy in appeal. “What was it?”

  “Sitcoms,” she replied, accepted a brownie, and stuffed half of it in her mouth.

  “I can’t stand the suspense!” Lindy twirled her black hair around her finger. “Hurry, Lucy! Pass me one of those apple tarts!”

  Gillian stopped nibbling at her fingernail. “Me too, please!”

  Milla tugged on James’s sleeve. “Can you read the last question out loud? I can’t read those words fast enough.”

  “‘The primary sponsor of this popular sitcom was Philip Morris tobacco,’” James read, and he exchanged befuddled glances with his neighbors. “Anybody know the answer?”

  The camera portrayed the three contestants scribbling on their blue boards. The crowd held their collective breaths as Bennett frowned, crossed something out, and then hastily scrawled a different answer.

  “Oh dear. One should always trust one’s first instincts,” Gillian murmured and began to worriedly rub her palms together.

  Everyone looked concerned, but no one else made a sound. When Barbara’s answer was revealed as “What is Happy Days,” and Alex sorrowfully informed her that she was incorrect, the throng in the firehouse breathed a small sigh of relief. Barbara had risked half of her earnings, so she was still in the running if both male contestants had bet every cent yet had written the wrong answer.

  Harold’s smug expression had returned. Alex informed the viewers that Harold’s “What is I Love Lucy,” answer was correct and noted that Harold had risked enough to assume the lead over Barbara. Finally, it was time to reveal Bennett’s answer.

  Alex frowned as he tried to decipher the squiggles on Bennett’s screen. The first four words were clear. Most of the audience members followed along as he read, “What is I Love …” The word Lucy had then been struck through two times and replaced by another word. James squinted at the screen, but could not make out what letters his friend had written.

  “I’m afraid our leader has crossed out the word Lucy, but I’m having some trouble figuring out what he wrote instead,” Alex began and squinted. “Not I Love Lucy but—”

  “I love Gillian!” Bennett stated passionately and looked straight at the camera, his dark eyes reflecting the surprise every person watching him was also registering. “Not Lucy, not Jade. Gillian,” he muttered as though he was alone and not speaking to an audience of hundreds of thousands. “Son of a gun,” he chuckled. “I love Gillian.”

  And with that, Alex hurriedly explained that Bennett’s wager had landed him in second place. He then hustled over to shake Harold’s hand, the theme music cranked up, and the credits rolled. The last glimpse James had of Bennett showed his friend pulling furiously at his mustache as he stared dumbly into space.

  A woman at the next table whispered, “Now that is some good television.”

  By the time Clint had switched off the television, two hundred pairs of eyes were fastened on Gillian. James, Lindy, and Lucy were also staring at their friend when she suddenly jumped out of her seat and scurried from the room, her bright red hair whirling around her head like an orange cyclone as she ran.

  The sound of the door clicking shut following her abrupt departure spurred the room into life again. Tongues were soon wagging at a rapid fire, and Dolly was practically swooning in ecstasy at being present for one of the most dramatic events in the town’s history.

  “Goodness gracious!” Milla exhaled. “Talk about being put in the spotlight. Should you go after her, James?”

  “Knowing Gillian, she’s going to need some time alone. She’s probably heading straight for her meditation space or whatever she calls it.”

  Lindy looked impressed. “You’ve got the name exactly right, James. She’s got a small room in her house with only a few pieces of white furniture and a pair of gauzy curtains. She lights candles and listens to a CD that’s supposed to remind her of the earth’s natural music—birds chirping and waves crashing. That kind of stuff.”

  “We can leave her be for tonight,” Lucy said. “But I’m going over there in the morning. I don’t want to find her in her meditation room three days from now half-starved and dehydrated to the point of death.” She shook her head and then eyeballed James intently. “Did Bennett ever tell you how he felt about Gillian?”

  “No. He never said a word. In fact, I don’t think he knew exactly how he felt until that question came up. You saw him. He was as shocked as the rest of us!”

  Lindy giggled. “That man won’t be able to go anywhere in this town without someone asking him about his love life.”

  “That’s true, poor guy. And Dolly’s going to rehash this story until no one can bear to hear it,” James added, gesturing at the gleeful diner proprietor who was no doubt putting forth a host of possible outcomes regarding Bennett’s declaration to a group of a chattering women.

  The three friends took reflective sips of their coffee as they wondered the same thing. James noticed that no one was in any hurry to leave the firehouse, which, despite having a cement floor and an old furnace, seemed incredibly warm. Even Milla, who had seemed so tired earlier in the day, showed no inclination to depart. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes glimmered as she pointed to the front of the room. “Here comes the mayor. And she’s got a bullhorn.”

  “Testing, testing.” The mayor’s voice burst out in a loud gargle through the mechanism.

  James recognized the lanky, tousled-haired figure of Scott Fitzgerald whe
n the young man sprang to the front of the room, made a quick adjustment to the bullhorn, and then whispered some directions to the mayor.

  “Your sweet boys are here,” Milla said with a smile and James felt a customary swell of pride as he saluted the Fitzgerald twins, who had been sitting just out of his visual range behind his right shoulder. Willow and Lottie were also there, but while Willow gave him a friendly wave, Lottie didn’t acknowledge him at all.

  Scanning the other tables, James saw Murphy seated with a group of handsome young firemen, her head bent over a pad of paper as her pen whipped across the paper.

  Groaning, James pointed her out to his friends. “Guess what tomorrow’s headline will read?”

  “That witch,” Lucy mumbled. “She can never leave well enough alone.”

  Lindy gave Lucy’s hand a light slap. “Shame on you! She’s just doing her job. You two are not that different, you know. You’re both very devoted to your careers.”

  Squirming at the thought that his former girlfriends shared similar personality traits, James was relieved when the mayor finished her brief conference with the fire chief and once again brought the bullhorn to her lips.

  “Bennett Marshall has done us proud, wouldn’t you agree?” She paused and received only a smattering of applause. “Now, I know he didn’t win. We all saw that he could easily have won, but something interfered with his claiming that cash jackpot. That thing was love. Right there on national television he gave up on a heck of a lot of prize money and a chance to return for another night so he could become a quiz show champion. Everybody knows he could’ve done it in his sleep.” She surveyed her constituents. “He’s probably back in some strange hotel hanging his head in shame, but I say Bennett Marshall has shown the world what the true nature of a man from Quincy’s Gap is all about!” The mayor’s voice grew louder and more passionate.

  “He’s our local hero!” A woman shouted.

  The mayor smiled at her. “A man of integrity and courage, surely. A man who knows what’s important in life. And we’re going to show him our love and support and hometown pride by welcoming him back to his town in style!”

  This time the crowd’s applause was resounding.

  “Let’s give him a parade!” A man in the front row suggested.

  An elderly lady near James stood up and shook her cane at the previous speaker. “It’s too damn cold to stand around outside.”

  “That’s a good point, Mrs. Chambers.” The mayor nodded at the old woman. “What we need to do is gather together like we did this evening, but with a bit more pomp and circumstance. We need decorations, food, and an honorary item to present to Mr. Marshall.”

  “If it’s gonna be a party, we need some liquor!” A man suggested heartily.

  “And music! Maybe dancing!” Someone else added with enthusiasm.

  The mayor hushed the crowd by waving her pointer finger over their heads. “Anyone who would care to volunteer, come to the front of the room. We’ll divide into committee groups. I’ve got to see what kind of budget we can come up with. Mr. Treasurer, would you be so kind as to join me on the stage? And bring your laptop. I know you’ve got a bottom line of what we can spend on that thing. The rest of you should head on home. I’m sure we can convince Ms. Alistair to print off some sticky notes to slap on tomorrow’s Star announcing the time of our little event. And if you’ve got a friend that didn’t show tonight, make sure they’re here tomorrow. I’m expecting the whole town, ya hear?”

  “Be more than glad to help spread the word, Mayor!” Murphy called out and James couldn’t help but smile at her.

  A dozen senior citizens and several parents carrying young children called it a night, but the majority of the townspeople remained in the firehouse, eager to assist in Bennett’s surprise celebration.

  “I hope he survives his homecoming,” James murmured as he and Milla joined the group in charge of refreshments. Lucy and Lindy decided to work with the decorating committee. “There’s no chance of him hiding out at home now.”

  “I’m going to make Bennett a whole Sweet Tooth goodie basket, so it’ll be worth his while to stand in the limelight for a spell,” said Megan Flowers, who was sitting across from James. “And we know where Bennett will be at this time tomorrow, but the real question I want answered is will Gillian be here too?”

  “She’d better,” Dolly stated firmly. “I’m not gonna close the diner early and cook all afternoon long for nothin’! I need to know how this love story ends, because whether Gillian admits it or not, that’s what this is.” Dolly sighed dreamily. “A small town love story.” She poked James in his side. “Isn’t it romantic?”

  Luckily for James, Milla’s relatives were coming to Quincy’s Gap via car service, so he didn’t need to take off work to pick them up from the airport. As he was finishing up the morning’s hold and transfer requests, Scott gestured at the phone behind the circulation desk.

  “Ms. Hanover’s on the line for you, Professor.”

  Lucy was too excited to waste time in returning James’s greeting. “We’re really going to pull one over on Bennett this afternoon! The mayor has asked Sheriff Huckabee to escort Bennett from the Amtrak station back here. He’s riding the lead car and I’ll be taking up the rear.”

  “That’s going to ruin the whole element of surprise, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Not at all!” Lucy laughed. “Listen to this part! The sheriff’s brother is a retired FBI agent. He still works for them every now and then on a consultant basis, so he’s got an official ID. He’s going to put on a dark suit and some of those mirrored glasses and tell Bennett that he’s investigating a federal case of mail fraud. He’s going to tell Bennett that someone on his route is suspected of being the ringleader and ask for his help in obtaining information about this person.”

  James couldn’t help but chuckle. No doubt Bennett would be completely distracted by such a ruse. “Who’s agreed to play the master criminal?”

  “Mrs. Horner.”

  “Our old school nurse? Oh, that’s perfect.” James grinned at the image of the prim and proper Mrs. Horner committing mail fraud.

  “That’s today’s good news,” Lucy continued, her tone suddenly tight with hostility. “If I didn’t have tonight’s celebration to look forward to, I might have had to shoot somebody as a stress reliever. Prepare yourself, James. Murphy’s book came out ahead of schedule. One of the deputies showed it to me this morning.”

  “Oh no!” James shouted in anguish. “Things were just looking up around here!”

  When Lucy didn’t respond in agreement to his sentiment, he asked, “Did you read any of it?

  “Most of the first chapter during my coffee break, and that was enough!” Lucy replied angrily. “The beginning is all about us, James. We’re called the Cellulite Club! Cellulite! Murphy made us out to be a group of fat, bumbling nitwits. I’m this aggressive, man-hating secretary; Lindy’s a giggly, flighty teacher desperate for love; Bennett’s a total nerd—she even has him wearing thick glasses and a pocket protector—and Gillian’s just plain nuts. Murphy made her an animal psychic!”

  James felt his stomach clench. “And what about me? Ugh, I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  Lucy hesitated for a long moment, and James was unsure whether she was trying to be unnecessarily dramatic or was merely unwilling to be the deliverer of bad tidings. “You’re kind of wishy-washy,” she finally replied. “She uses the word ‘weak’ a lot to describe you. Everyone else makes decisions while you hide in the background. Murphy portrays you as someone who’s been permanently destroyed by his ex-wife, so now you let women run all over you.”

  “Jane wasn’t that bad,” James stated in disbelief. “Our divorce hurt because I was still in love with her, but I’m not weak! And yes, she left me for another guy, so that didn’t feel great, but she didn’t destroy me! We had a lot of happy times together, and those help balance out the painful ending of our marriage.”

  “Do you ever talk to her? T
o Jane?” Lucy seemed genuinely curious though James suspected she was just trying to change the subject before he could work himself into a full state of indignation.

  “We exchange Christmas and birthday cards and an occasional e-mail, but I don’t really know much about her life now. The Christmas card she sent didn’t have a return address on it and was postmarked from Charlottesville, so I’m not even sure if she’s still living in Williamsburg.” An image of Jane smiling up at him as he slipped a platinum band on her ring finger arose unbidden in his mind, but he pushed the memory aside. “Tell me more about the book.”

  “I only read the first chapter!” Lucy refused to play along. “Aren’t you getting a copy?”

  James snorted. “I ordered four copies for the library, though it killed me to spend the money! Still, I know my patrons will be standing in line to get their hands on Murphy’s novel whether I like it or not, and it’s contrary to the librarian’s creed to censure reading choices.”

  “Too bad,” Lucy grunted. “This seems like a great time to gather up a big pile of kindling and have us a good old fashioned book burning.” She sighed mournfully. “See you tonight.”

  James hung up the phone and sank onto a nearby stool. For the rest of the morning, he did his best to be his solicitous self for the benefit of his patrons, but as lunchtime grew closer, his anxiety over Murphy’s portrayal of him increased. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he had purchased two packages of snack-sized cheese puffs from the vending machine in the lobby. He then sneaked into the men’s room and locked himself in a stall. He practically inhaled the first bag and without even pausing to lick the salty, orange dust coating his fingertips, he tore into the second. He was halfway through that bag when he heard Francis’s voice.

  “Professor? You in here?” Francis asked apologetically.

  James hurriedly swallowed a mouthful of cheese puffs. “Yes.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, but Milla’s on the phone and she sounds … well, I think she’s been crying.”