Lily of the Springs

by Carole Bellacera

  Edsel, at 16, wasn’t going to be the best student Russell County High School turned out, but he sure was a hard worker on the farm. He was never happier than when he was on a John Deere, readying the Kentucky soil for planting.

  At 12, Norry was pulling in straight A’s in 7th grade, and every time I went back home for a visit, the girl constantly had her head in a book—not made up stories like the ones I liked to read, but big, boring books about marketing and economics. To be sure, we’d all four got our share of whippings, but we’d turned out okay.

  So why did I feel so guilty every time I looked at Debby Ann?

  The poor kid had barely touched her supper, and it was one of her favorites—pork chops and mashed potatoes with nice ripe tomatoes straight from the garden patch out back.

  I sighed. I probably wouldn’t feel like eating either if I’d just had my backside switched.

  “Debby, honey,” I said softly. “Just finish your mashed potatoes, and then you can have some cake.”

  Debby turned a pair of big sad eyes on me. “I’s not hungee,” she said.

  “But sweetie—“

  “Leave her be, Lily Rae,” Jake cut in. “She’ll be hungry tomorrow morning, I reckon. You can get down, girl. Go on and play now.”

  Debby climbed down from the stack of catalogs in her chair and plodded into the living room. My heart panged at the sight of the reddened welts on the backs of her legs, and again, doubts plagued me.

  Jake reached for his pack of Winston’s on the table near his plate. “Did you read Meg’s letter,” he asked, fishing out a cigarette and placing it between his lips.

  “Yes, I did. I’ll have one, too.” I indicated the pack of cigarettes, and he slid it across the table to me. “Lord, I just don’t believe she’s living in a beautiful place like Hawaii. Her new house sounds just gorgeous! Can you imagine looking out your front window and seeing Pearl Harbor?”

  Jake lit his cigarette, took a draw and shrugged. “I suppose if you don’t mind looking at the spot where the Japs killed a shitload of American servicemen, it would be okay.” He slid his lighter down to me.

  “Oh, you know what I mean! It’s just got to be a beautiful view is all.” I lit my cigarette.

  He sat across from me at the rectangular dining room table, looking devilishly handsome in cut-off dungarees and a white T-shirt, rolled up to expose his muscular biceps. He’d tipped his chair back against the wall and was contentedly smoking his cigarette, his blue eyes mildly amused.

  I wondered what was so durn funny about what I’d said. He leaned forward and flicked ashes into his plate, then stuck the cigarette between his lips. “Well, one thing is for certain,” he said. “My sister is—as my daddy would put it—riding to hell on a fast horse in a porcupine saddle!”

  “Well, he would know all about riding to hell, wouldn’t he?” I shot back, unable to resist the opportunity to get in a dig at Royce Tatlow. “But why do you say that?”

  “Mommy!” Debby Ann’s voice came from the living room. “Can I watch ‘Captain Kangaroo?’”

  “I don’t know if it’s on now, honey, but you can turn on the TV and see.”

  Debby must’ve been standing right in front of the television because before I’d barely finished speaking, the sounds of a Brill Creme commercial blared from the living room.

  “Turn it down, Debra Ann!” Jake shouted. “The whole neighborhood don’t need to hear it!”

  “I don’t know how,” Debby wailed.

  I jumped up. “I’ll do it.” I ran into the living room and turned down the volume. Then I turned to my daughter and was shocked by the look on her face. Stark fear.

  My heart caught in my throat. “Oh, baby, come here.”

  She melted into my arms, and I hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her warm, blonde head. “Oh, sweetie. Don’t look like that.”

  Debby Ann nestled in my arms, turning her lips so they were inches from my ear. “I’s be good. Daddy don’t spank Debby Ann no more, Mommy, okay?”

  I swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed in my throat. “Oh, honey, I know you’ll be good. We don’t like spanking you, sweetie. But you’ve just got to stop throwing temper tantrums like that, okay?”

  Debby nodded, her flushed face pressed up against my polka-dot halter top. I stroked her hair and gently pulled away. Jake would be wondering what was taking me so long.

  “Let’s see if we can find something on TV.”

  “Captain Kangaroo” wasn’t on, but I found a puppet show. By the time I stepped back into the dining room, Debby Ann was curled up on the couch, her thumb in her mouth, her eyes on the TV screen.

  Jake gave me an appraising look as if he knew exactly what I’d been up to, so I spoke before he got a chance to. “So, you gonna tell me why you think your sister is bound for hell?”

  He released a thin ribbon of blue smoke. “I reckon I’ll have to explain things to you, since you’re so ignorant and all.”

  “Explain what?” I took my seat and reached for my cigarette in the ashtray.

  “Meg and that woman she’s moved in with. I reckon it hasn’t occurred to you that they’re living like a married couple?”

  I stared at him blankly. “What do you mean, a married couple?”

  He gave a sly grin. “They’re sleeping together, Lily Rae. They’re…doing things to each other…you know, the kind of things a man and woman do together. Well, except for what’s missing.”

  My brows furrowed. “You’re talking in riddles, Jake. Can’t you just say what you mean?”

  His chair slammed down to the floor. He placed his tanned elbows on the table and leaned toward me, his eyes glittering with amusement. Yet, there was something mean in them, too.

  “They’re fucking each other, Lily Rae! Christ! Is there anybody in the world more innocent than you? You mean you’ve never heard of lesbians?”

  I just looked at him. Lesbians? Wasn’t that some kind of actor? No, that wasn’t right. The word I was thinking of was “thespians.” I remembered that from drama class in high school.

  “No, I guess I haven’t ever heard of that word, Jake. And I reckon I am ignorant, but at least I have a high school diploma, which is more than you’ve got. Anyhow, what makes you think Meg is a…lesbian just because she moved in with another woman. Ain’t you ever heard of roommates?”

  Jake eased the back of his chair against the wall and took another long drag of his cigarette. “Hell, everybody knows that women who join the service are one of two things—whores or lesbians. When Meggie first joined the Army, I figured she must be a whore. Lord knows she’s too ugly to get a man any other way. But after reading her letter today, my suspicions are confirmed. She’s been talking about this Kay Waters ever since she got stationed at Fort Shafter. And now she’s moved in with her.” He nodded matter-of-factly. “They’re lesbians, all right. Bound for hell in a hand basket.”

  I was still having trouble digesting all this. In the silence that fell, the high-pitched, cartoonish sounds of puppets engaged in an argument came from the living room. “But I still don’t understand how…” My cheeks grew warm. “… how two women…you know…without the necessary equipment…” My voice trailed off, and I had to look away from Jake’s laughing eyes.

  “Well,” he said slowly. “They use their mouths and their fingers.”

  “Oh.” Cheeks burning, I stubbed out my cigarette, jumped up and began to clear the table.

  “But then,” he added, watching me. “You wouldn’t know anything about using your mouth, would you?”

  I stacked the dishes at the side of the sink and began filling the basin with hot, sudsy water, deciding to ignore that last ugly remark. Even after all these years, he still wanted me to do immoral things that no Christian couple would ever dream of.

  I dropped the dishes into the water and began to wash them. And then a thought occurred to me. I paused and turned to Jake. “So, if there’s such a thing as women who love other women, what a
bout men? Are there men who…you know, love men?”

  Jake’s chair crashed to the floor. He reached across the table and grabbed my ashtray, stubbing out his cigarette. Then he got up.

  “Yeah, they’re called queers. And I’m not about to explain what they do because just thinking about it makes me want to vomit.” He strode toward the threshold of the living room. “I’m going to get a couple hours of shut-eye before work.” He paused and threw me a leering glance. “Why don’t you get Debby Ann to bed and come in and join me?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I’d just finished washing up the lunch dishes when the phone rang, and I rushed to answer it before the jarring sound woke Jake up. “Tatlow residence.”

  “Lily Rae, is that you?”

  The voice on the other end of the line was one I hadn’t heard in years, but I recognized it instantly. “Oh, my Lord! Katydid!”

  Grinning, I took a step backwards, pulling on the cord of the phone so I could look out the window to check on Debby in the backyard. Oh, good. She was still playing in the sandbox Jake had bought with his last paycheck. “I don’t believe it! Where are you calling from?”

  “Right here in Bowling Green. I live here now.”

  “You do?”

  “Just moved here a couple of months ago,” Katydid said. “After I graduated from nursing school at Vanderbilt, I found a job here at City Hospital.”

  “Oh, wow! That’s wonderful, Katydid! How’s RJ?”

  There was an odd silence on the other end, and then, “Oh, hon, you didn’t hear? We’re divorced. I caught him in a compromising position with a Vanderbilt cheerleader.”

  I felt as if someone had kicked me in the stomach. RJ Skaggs? With a cheerleader? Why, he’d worshiped the ground Katydid walked on in high school. Finally, I found my voice, “Oh, Lord, Katydid! I’m so sorry!”

  “Don’t be.” Katydid gave a short, bitter laugh. “He did me a favor. I’m just grateful he did it while I’m still young and good-looking instead of waiting until I’m old and fat and unable to attract another man. But hey, that’s old news. I’m doing fine. Anyhow, I was on my lunch break, and guess who I ran into at the diner on Main Street? Jinx Foley! I about died when she told me you live here, too. Before you know it, half the population of Bowling Green will be from Russell County.”

  I laughed, glancing back out the window to check on Debby again. Still playing in the sandbox like a little angel. Even Debby Ann Kitty had risked coming within ten feet of her and was curled up in the sun, dozing.

  “Listen,” Katydid went on. “I get off work at four, and I’d love to stop by and see you and the baby. Jinx says she’s just gorgeous.”

  “Uh…” I thought quickly. Of course, I’d love to see Katydid, but the timing was terrible. Tonight was the big annual barbecue pool party given by the president of Jake’s company. It was supposed to start at 6:00.

  Katydid caught my hesitation and said, “If it’s not a good time…”

  “Well, now, it’s just that we’re supposed to be somewhere at six, and I’d hate to cut our visit short since it’s been so long…”

  “I know what!” Katydid said brightly. “Do you have a car? Maybe you could meet me for lunch one day next week. If you don’t mind cafeteria food, we could stay right here in the hospital. The food’s pretty good, believe it or not.”

  I thought about it. Well, why not? Jake would be sleeping, so I’d have the car. It would be a nice outing, and God knows I deserved a chance to get out of the house more often. When we first moved here, I’d figured me and Jinx would get together a lot, but the twins kept her so busy, she hardly ever could go out and do anything. So I’d pretty much stopped suggesting getting together, except for the occasional Friday or Saturday evenings when the four of us played cards.

  “I’d love to do that,” I said. “You just tell me which day is good for you, and we’ll be there.”

  We settled on Monday, and I hung up the phone, smiling. It would be fun seeing Katydid again. I stepped out the back door, mentally preparing myself for the daily battle of putting Debby Ann down for her nap.

  The sandbox was empty, and I felt a momentary anxiety until I saw Debby down at the back of the yard where trees and shrubbery grew up against the fence. She was on her knees, peering under a three-inch gap in the bottom of the fence.

  “Debby Ann Kitty, come back, I said!”

  I couldn’t help but grin. It looked like Debby Ann Kitty had finally found a way to outfox her namesake. One of these days, if that cat had any sense at all, it would hi-tail it out of here and never come back.

  ***

  I thought I looked right nice in my new strapless one-piece swimsuit--a bright red number with a wide white satin border along the bust line, which really emphasized…well, my bust. But when I walked into the living room to show it off to Jake, he barely gave me a second glance. “Nice, Lily. Better put something on over it and let’s get going.”

  I put on a pair of navy pedal-pushers and a button-down red polka-dot blouse over the swimsuit, kissed Debby Ann goodbye (luckily, we’d got Lori, the teenage girl down the street to baby-sit), and grabbed the picnic basket of chicken I’d fried up for the potluck supper. According to Jinx, this summer barbecue/pool party at Lute Dawson’s 40-acre estate northwest of Glasgow was almost as popular as the annual Christmas party. Just about all the employees and their wives showed up, she said. Kids were welcome, too, but most everybody left the younger ones at home because the party tended to go on well past midnight.

  I’d been relieved to hear we weren’t expected to bring our kids. I couldn’t think of anything more horrible than having to keep an eye on Debby Ann near a swimming pool in a big crowd. That was a challenge I certainly wasn’t up to.

  The drive to Glasgow took about 45 minutes, and by the time we pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the Dawson estate, it was almost seven. A guard at the gatehouse checked off Jake’s name on a clipboard, and waved us through the elaborate gates. I caught my breath as we drove up a winding stone driveway toward a huge stone Colonial perched atop an emerald-green knoll.

  “Oh, Lord! Would you look at that mansion!” My stomach tightened with anxiety. I wasn’t used to going to places like this. What if it was too highfalutin’ for me?

  “Yeah,” Jake said, his lips twisting in a smirk. “Old man Dawson sure knows how to live…while barely paying his employees enough to get by. Guess he figures a couple of parties every year will keep everybody happy.”

  I glanced at him in surprise. For the first time since we’d been married, we actually had a little money in a savings account. So why did he sound so bitter?

  A man in a uniform directed Jake to park the car in a field past the horse stables. To me, it looked like a sea of cars were already parked there, and the butterflies in my stomach started having a field day. This was a much, much bigger deal than I’d expected.

  It was a long trek back up to the house, and the red high-heeled sandals I’d chosen to go with my swimsuit kept sinking in the spongy ground. Once we got to the paved driveway, it was easier going, but I quickly realized I should’ve bought the next size up. A blister was already forming on my right little toe. And it was awkward carrying the big basket of fried chicken.

  The sounds of merrymaking, live country music and splashing water grew louder as we approached the high stone wall that surrounded the manor house. The delectable aroma of grilling meat carried on the evening breeze. Instead of making me hungry, the smell had the opposite effect. I felt nauseous. Nerves, of course. Whatever had made me think this was going to be a down home kind of barbecue for ordinary folks?

  “You think we should go around to the front?” I asked, uncertain of what to do.

  “Nah, there’s probably nobody in the house,” Jake said. “There’s got to be a gate somewhere.”

  I spotted a bouquet of brightly-colored helium balloons floating lazily with the evening breeze. “I’ll bet it’s right there.”

  I was rig
ht; below the floating balloons, I saw a black wrought-iron gate, a smaller replica of the one at the road. Jake opened the gate for me, and I moved through, my feet protesting in agony and my arms aching from carrying the basket of chicken. Who knew that three cut up chickens would weigh so much?

  Once through the gate, I came to a stop and stared, my jaw dropping. Beside me, I could feel Jake’s astonishment, too.

  Why, it looked like something out of a Hollywood movie! Straight ahead stretched a stone walkway leading to a Japanese lantern-strung gazebo in front of the biggest pond I’d ever seen on a private property. It was much, much bigger than our pond back in Opal Springs. The back of the manor house was to my right, with three tiers of stone steps leading up to a huge stone terrace where a four-piece country band entertained the guests.

  On the far side of the steps, a wisteria-curtained arbor perched on the lawn near an ornamental water garden complete with a small curved bridge and a romantic-looking bench made out of black wrought-iron.

  On my left, and three wide steps down, the gigantic kidney-shaped pool with its rock waterfall was just about the most refreshing sight I’d ever seen. The deck surrounding it was made of the same beautiful, varied-colored stone that led to the gazebo and made up the tiers of steps to the terrace. And as if a water garden, a big pond—or lake—and a pool wasn’t enough, on the near side of the pool, close to where me and Jake stood, a stone fountain topped with twin lion heads spurted arcs of water that cascaded into three basins. Beyond the pool deck, a gorgeous expanse of lush emerald grass stretched for probably 100 yards, ending in a grove of apple trees. It was just the most amazing back yard I’d ever seen—more like a park than a back yard.

  The party appeared to be in full-swing. A bunch of people were in the pool, and they seemed to be having the time of their lives. Especially the men playing volleyball in one section. The game looked awfully rough to me. In fact, they looked like they were in danger of drowning each other. I decided then and there I wasn’t about to get in that pool as long as those crazy men were in there. Swimming was one thing I’d never learned to do, and I didn’t cotton to trying it with a bunch of maniacs around.