The Persecution of Mildred Dunlap

by Paulette Mahurin

  Mildred agreed, got ready and went along with Frank and Mabel. They circled by the Whitmore’s to pick up Helene and little Frankie, and then headed to town to rustle up Charley.

  On the ride out to the lake, Charley made small conversation with Mildred as they sat together in the back of the carriage. “That lake has some interesting history.”

  “Yes, so I’ve been told,” replied Mildred, who had not only heard the stories of Walker Lake from her father, but had done extensive reading on the subject.

  “Did you know that Joseph Reddeford Walker of Tennessee led a fur-trapping expedition into this area? The first battle between the whites and Indians was in this territory.”

  “Oh that’s interesting.” Mildred politely kept quiet about the fact that she knew the story. She also knew that to be a good listener helped to make people feel better about themselves.

  “Did you hear about the time he was traveling from north to south exploring the Humboldt River more thoroughly, and that is how he discovered our lake?”

  “Sounds interesting, Charley.”

  “As Walker approached with his men, a large group of Indians suddenly appeared from their hiding places in the tall grass. Walker’s men pointed their guns at the Indians to exhibit their weapons but the Indians had never seen guns before,” Charley laughed.

  Mildred, trying to contain her boredom, smiled back.

  “The Indians wanted to see what effect the guns would have on some ducks swimming near the shore of the lake. When the men fired, the Indians fell to the ground, more astonished by the noise than the fact that the firings killed several ducks,” Charley continued.

  Helene turned around and glanced at Charley and Mildred. She gave Frank a gentle elbow to his ribs and whispered, “See…they’re getting on well.”

  Frank shot her a look.

  “Several months later, Walker led a large-scale battle, defeating the Indians. Walker Lake was named after this victory,” Charley droned.

  Mildred listened as Charley rambled on about how tribes of Indians were pacified when emissaries sent by the Federal Government managed to persuade them to give up their wandering way of life and settle on reservations. “People come to Walker Lake for lots of reasons,” he continued, “the history…the breathtaking scenery.”

  Mildred was familiar with the one-hundred-square-mile expanse nestled at the base of Mount Grant. The hovering snow-covered peak and hills made a spectacular backdrop for the mostly unfruitful shoreline, punctuated here and there by groves of trees or bushes and rushes sprouting from the water. The deep blue color of the lake contrasted with the surrounding hills, covered with brown grass and sagebrush that turned red in the setting sun. The river, feeding the lake, provided not only a visual delight, but was a ribbon of life in the otherwise barren landscape, providing water and grass for horses and cattle, and shade from the bushes and trees along its banks. She sympathized with how the Indians must have felt, being manipulated out of their way of life and forced into a form of slavery on reservations. She felt a thread of entrapment running through her with having to contend with Charley’s rambling and going along with her plan in the first place. She resented why she felt she had to put herself in that position and forced herself to make conversation. “What an interesting story, Charley. You sure do know your history. Do you read a lot?”

  “No, not much. I learned that from helping the children at school. I was volunteering there before Emma took ill.” Charley became quiet.

  At a loss for words, Mildred sat still for a while and then broke the silence. “Do you ever fish, Charley?”

  “Matter of fact I’ve been out here and caught some trout. Cooked them right here at the lake.”

  Mildred knew the lake was famous for its Lahontan cutthroat trout, and just as she was contemplating a time when Max had brought a load of them home, a flock of migrating loons flew by. “I guess it’s the fish that bring all these birds to the area,” she commented.

  Charley looked to the sky as the flock circled down toward the water. “You bet. This here lake is an excellent feeding ground for all sorts of birds.”

  Frank pulled up the carriage and settled the horses in the shade next to several other buggies and carriages of families that had arrived before them. The group made their way to a cluster of cottonwood and poplar trees surrounded by tall grass. It was a perfect place to stay comfortable away from the heat.

  Mildred helped Helene unpack the lunch onto the blanket.

  “That sure is a calm lake today,” Frank commented as he bit into a chicken leg.

  Mildred watched the ripples cast by the swimmers splashing about that shimmered on the glassy surface of the water. The sun was fixed in the cloudless sky, baking everything in its rays. There was an uncharacteristic lack of wind, not even the slightest breeze on this sultry July day. It was not unlike the day of Edra’s twelfth birthday. Mildred smiled as she remembered that day, spooned some potato salad into her mouth, then replied. “Yes, it’s very still, Frank.”

  “That was just about the tastiest chicken you ever made, Helene,” said Charley as he wiped his lips with a napkin. “Boy, it’s a warm one today.”

  “I’m hot, mamma. Let’s go to the water,” Mabel urged as she jumped up and started to run to the carriage to get her swimsuit.

  “Mabel, you calm down. Let your food settle,” Helene said.

  “Mamma!”

  “Hush now, young lady.” Helene began to clean up leftover food and put it back into her basket.

  “I’m stuffed,” said Frank. “How’s about a smoke, Charley?”

  “Frank, I think I’ll pass on that right now. I feel like getting up and stretching. Anyone for a little walk?”

  “It’s too hot,” said Helene. “We’ll just settle here a bit then take the kids in the water.”

  “Let’s go now!” Mabel nudged her mother.

  “Mabel Whitmore, you sit yourself down till your mamma gets this blanket cleared. You heard what she said to you.” Frank’s voice was stern.

  As Mabel began to pout, Mildred decided that she’d had about all she could take. “Sure, Charley,” she said as she stood up to join him.

  Joshua and Annalee Smartley with their three children had also decided that this would be a perfect day to escape the heat and relax at Walker Lake.

  “I tell you there isn’t going to be any letting up on this for a while. It’s just simply repulsive,” Annalee said, referring to the latest development that had come down the telegraph pipeline about Oscar Wilde. It was no mystery that the press kept fueling his imprisonment. News of Wilde sold papers and provided relief from the ennui many experienced, which included Annalee. He was the perfect antidote for her dull life. “He’s eating watery porridge and bread.”

  Joshua replied, “He’s lucky they aren’t starving him to death.”

  “I’m glad he’s not getting any books, paper or pens. Let him sit on his wooden bed and be reminded that his kind of behavior won’t be tolerated. If he thought he was going to have an easy time of prison, he’s got another thing…”

  “Look who’s coming our way,” Joshua piped in. “Well I’ll be…”

  “Who?” Annalee craned her neck to see who he meant, but the two people approaching were outside her peripheral vision. “Who?” she repeated.

  “It’s Charley with Mildred.”

  Annalee, without thinking, abruptly stood and turned to face them. “Charley! Charley Milpass!”

  A pang of adrenaline shot through Mildred. It was fortuitous to run into one of Josie’s cohorts, but she was unprepared for the anxiety she felt. It was new and frightening for her to feel so out of control. There was no running away, no jumping on her horse and avoiding what was coming, no moving on past the crowd of jeers and making fun of her. She was trapped. She smiled in an attempt to cover up how she felt and moved a hand over her forehead, stroking her hair back, in a discrete attempt to wipe away beads of sweat.

  Annalee reached them, slightly sho
rt of breath.

  “Hello, Annalee. How are you folks doing today?” Charley could have cared less about having any conversation with them but determined the easiest way out would be civility.

  “So you’re out and about? I heard you were doing better. Josie told me you come out of your funk.” Annalee looked straight at Charley, completely ignoring Mildred.

  Mildred stood there listening to the noises coming out of their mouths and tried to maintain composure. She imagined what Annalee must be thinking and felt anger rise within her from all the years of persecution she had endured. She would have liked to slap Annalee across the face to shut her up. She wanted to get the hell away from the chattering. When they finally moved along, it was all Mildred could do to keep from vomiting her lunch.

  “Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.” OSCAR WILDE

  9

  Annalee woke up at the crack of dawn, threw on a robe, grabbed a basket and made her way to the chicken coop to fetch some eggs. She was beside herself in anticipation of her visit to Sarah Funkle. The gossip over Oscar Wilde had given her and her friends plenty to chatter over at teatime, and now she was about to add new excitement.

  Annalee stood nervously at the Funkle’s front door. As Sarah opened the door, Annalee greeted her with, “Glorious day. Brought you some eggs here. Enough for you and Pursey. The rest I’ll give to Josie and Satchel.”

  “Mighty nice of you coming out here so early. We’ll be sure to use these fresh eggs today.”

  Annalee stood nearly bursting with impatience as she waited for Sarah to invite her in.

  Sarah saw that Annalee had something on her mind. “Would you like to come in and have a cup of coffee?”

  “Why, I thought you’d never ask.” Annalee barged through the door. “You are not going to believe who I saw yesterday at the lake!”

  “Why, who?” Sarah led the way to the kitchen to prepare the coffee.

  Annalee had a difficult time holding back her words. She wanted them to come out slow and easy, not unlike how she had trained herself when having sex with Joshua, in order to savor the experience and build on every moment to the juicy expectation she hoped for. She felt the prickly pins running down her spine, the anticipation sensually exhilarating, and she didn’t want to spoil it by rushing through like Joshua did when he had gone without for a fortnight. “Charley and Mildred! They were holding hands,” Annalee lied. “Why, that woman has to be the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. How could Charley…”

  Sarah could not believe her ears. “You mean they were together there? Alone? Surely you’re kidding.”

  “This is no joke. That homely woman has got her clutches into Charley and only heaven knows why he seems to be enjoying it,” replied Annalee.

  “Why, that ugly spinster. He’s got to be after her money. There’s no way in the world…”

  “Oh I could not agree more. There’s something on his mind and it’s got nothing to do with liking that woman.”

  “Emma would turn in her grave. Mildred Dunlap!”

  Sarah threw Annalee a look of mischief. “I’m going with you to Josie’s!”

  Annalee’s story threw Josie Purdue into a dither. “No one in their right mind would be a friend with the likes of Mildred. But Charley? It doesn’t figure. I bet he’s wanting to be with someone, you know…who he don’t have to feel nothing for. He can have what he will with her. All that money. He’ll not worry about anything ever again.” She shook her head in disgust. “But with that woman? Not enough money in the whole world… I can’t stand the sight of her!” Josie’s resentment was nothing new, but since Mildred was the brunt of ridicule and jokes in town, no one ever questioned her about it.

  “But he loved Emma,” Annalee replied.

  “He went through a year of hell with Emma taking ill. He’s probably relieved he don’t have to change her diapers no more. Good riddance!” Josie slapped her hands together to make her point.

  “Josie!” Sarah exclaimed. “He loved Emma.”

  “Love? What do any of us know about what goes on in someone’s home? Why that wife of his and all her pain brought the whole town down there to cater to Charley. People ought to just die and let us move on with our lives.”

  “Josie! What’s gotten into you?” Annalee admonished.

  A nerve had been struck with the first mention of Mildred and Josie was not to concede that it bothered her. The boiling inside was exploding. “Me? Look who’s talking. We’re all sitting here enjoying this. Am I saying anything someone isn’t thinking?”

  “Well yes, but…”

  “So, I’m saying it. Let me talk! That Charley and Mildred are up to no good.”

  Eventually, the blabfest petered out as the women became exhausted with Josie’s tirade and repeating themselves, signaling that it was time to leave. On their way out, Annalee and Sarah ran into Madeline Trentwood.

  Madeline made her way to Gus Spivey’s General Store. She entered to find Gus stocking the shelves with supplies that had just arrived. “And how are you doing, Gus?” She was in a perky mood.

  “I’m well, Madeline. I’ll be just a couple minutes here then I’ll be with you.”

  Madeline glanced around to see who else was in the store and when she saw Rebecca Jenkins, she thought twice about going over to her. Rebecca, the minister’s wife, would not take kindly to an earful of gossip about Charley, especially since the recent passing of his wife. Rebecca was a decent woman who helped her husband Amos with church events that included anything from tending to the children on Sunday to helping arrange weddings and funerals. Instead, Madeline paced about and fiddled with the goods on the shelves.

  When Gus finished stocking the last shelf with tea, he asked Madeline, “What can I do for you?”

  She smiled, but appeared anxious. “I’ll be needing some flour, sugar, and let’s see…” She hesitated then pulled a list from her pocket. “Do you have cloverine salve?”

  “Yes, we have that.” He reached for the tin of salve from the shelf behind him then turned back toward her. “How much flour do you want today?”

  She pointed to the bag she wanted. “That should do me. I’m going to make a nice big cake. The girls are having a tea tomorrow and I want to bring something special. Would you like me to come by and bring you a piece?”

  “Well, you are in a good mood today.” Gus smiled.

  “You just never know…” She grinned like the Cheshire cat. “We have more to catch up on,” she blurted incomprehensibly.

  “We?” he asked.

  “Me, Josie, Sarah, and Annalee.”

  “Oh I see.” He instantly knew to avoid asking her anything further.

  That did not deter Madeline. “Annalee was out and about with eggs. And stories.”

  Gus readied the flour and the rest of the items on Madeline’s list. “That’ll be…”

  Madeline noticed Rebecca was out of earshot and interrupted, “You’ll never guess who’s going out with Charley Milpass! If Annalee hadn’t seen them with her own eyes, I’d never believe it. But I tell you Gus, it’s true as the moon rises in the sky.”

  “That’ll be fifty-seven cents.”

  “Mildred! That’s who. Can you believe it? Charley was out at the lake with her.”

  Gus began to feel cornered as Madeline continued to replay the scuttlebutt until Rebecca approached the counter to pay her bill. To Gus’s relief, Madeline became quiet.

  A few more customers walked into the store, one of them Charley. When Madeline saw Charley, her face flushed, she paid her bill, and left. Gus was amused as he watched her walk out.

  “Hey there, Gus. How’s it going today?” Charley asked innocently.

  “Just been taking in an earful,” Gus blurted without thinking. “Seems the town’s in an uproar over you and Mildred.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” Charley asked.

  “Your date with Mildred.”<
br />
  It took Charley a moment to tie the pieces together, and then it dawned on him. “Who have you been talking to? I knew Annalee couldn’t keep that dang mouth of hers shut. I knew it the minute I saw her. Can’t somebody have a friend without people butting in and making trouble? What is the matter with those people?”

  Seeing that he’d hit a nerve, Gus tried to back-pedal and undo the slip. “They just want to see you happy, Charley.”

  “That’s nonsense Gus, and you know it.”

  “There’s a lot of people care about you here. Look how many rallied to help you out…” Gus did not finish his thought. He didn’t want to bring up Emma and hit another nerve.

  “You think so?” Charley oozed sarcasm. “Not one of them bothered to talk to me except Mildred. Everyone just rushing in and out pushing food at me not knowing what to say so they end up saying damn stupid things. Mildred comes along and she’s genuinely nice. People been judging her wrong.”

  “No offense, but her looks… I know she can’t help it. People like to talk. All the things been said through the years.”

  “Well, don’t you be adding to it! Not you too, Gus! Don’t be saying anything when you don’t know a thing about her. What do you know about someone who’s helped me when I didn’t want no more of this world? She’s a good woman. I don’t take too kindly to what you just implied!” Charley surprised himself in his defense of Mildred. He knew the talk: She’s plain looking, overly endowed and unattractive, too full in figure, unaware of her appearance. She was nothing in comparison to Emma, who was a raving beauty, yet he was drawn to Mildred. In her, he saw something he liked, an inner glow and aliveness that made him feel good to be around. As time progressed and he got to know her better, he stopped caring about what she looked like, what others were saying, and more about what he saw in her. To him she was real and he valued that in his new friend.

  “Whoa Charley, I don’t mean no harm.”