The Heavenly Fugitive

by Gilbert, Morris

  “I’m okay.”

  “How’s school going?”

  “It’s going fine. I’ve got a lot of work to do in the next few weeks, but then I’ll be finished.”

  “Finished!” Amelia exclaimed in surprise. “What do you mean finished?”

  “I’m going to finish in two years like I said I would. I graduate on May twentieth.”

  Amelia reached over and squeezed his hand, her eyes sparkling. “I’m so proud of you!”

  While they waited for the pie to come, she insisted on hearing what he was planning to do.

  “Well, if I could do anything I wanted, I’d go to law school.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “You know why, sis—I can’t afford it. I’ve been working in a washing-machine factory since January. It pays more than the stables did, but that still isn’t much, and it’s as boring as anything I’ve ever done.”

  “But, Phil, I’m making lots of money now. I can help you. You must go.”

  Phil shook his head, a stubborn look on his face that Amelia was well familiar with. He just said, “No, I can’t take help. I don’t know why. I just can’t.”

  Amelia knew how independent Phil was and how determined to make his own way in life, but she was still disappointed that he would turn down her help without a second thought. Nonetheless, she determined at that instant to see her brother go to law school. I’ll talk to Grandmother, she thought. We’ll get him in one way or another. He’s as stubborn as a blue-nosed mule!

  ****

  Phil had no telephone in the small room he had moved into the previous summer. It was hard to keep up with college tuition and all the books he had to buy on his small income, so he had moved to save money on rent. On Saturday morning, his landlady handed him an envelope. “This just came for you, Phil.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Harmon.” He took the envelope and did not recognize the writing. He opened it quickly and scanned the note, recognizing Rosa’s signature. It simply said: Dear Phil, I need your help. Come and see me. You don’t have to call. If you can come today, I’ll be home.

  “This didn’t come through the mail, did it?” Phil said.

  “No, a big man came to the door and handed it to me.”

  Must’ve been Dom, Phil thought. The message sounded somewhat urgent, and he had the day off. He couldn’t imagine what Rosa would need him for, but he immediately left the house. He had no money for a cab, but he did have a used bicycle he had picked up at a pawnshop for five dollars. It had needed some work, but he had gotten it back into operative condition. Now he pedaled off down the street, dodging traffic, and was soon out in the open country. It was a good five miles to the Morino estate, and by the time he got there, he had worked up a sweat. He pulled up in front of the gate, and a guard snapped, “What do you want?”

  “Miss Rosa asked me to come.” Phil knew the guard was only one part of an elaborate security system Big Tony had recently installed and kept operational twenty-four hours a day. The wall surrounding the property ended in sharp spikes and had broken glass embedded along the top. Phil also knew about an electronic alarm system that would stop anyone who managed to breach the wall. Dom had told him not even a mouse could get through every safety device on the estate.

  The guard moved away, spoke over a telephone in a small guardhouse, then came back and opened the gate. “Go on up.”

  Phil walked his bike up toward the house, and when he was halfway there, he saw Rosa coming around the corner. She was wearing jodhpurs and a dark blue jersey, and her black hair flew behind her, bobbing up and down, as she ran to greet him.

  “Phil, I’m so glad you could come!” Her eyes sparkled, and Phil thought her complexion was as smooth and creamy as anything on earth. She held out her hands, and Phil took them at once. “It’s good to see you, Rosa.”

  “Come along. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  Phil accompanied the young woman, thinking how much she had matured since he’d first met her. She was sixteen-and-a-half years old now and a completely filled out and attractive young lady. He listened as she spoke of a party she had been to, and he asked, “Did you get lots of young men to dance with you?”

  “Oh, I guess so. Now, what have you been doing?”

  “Mostly studying. I’ll graduate next month.”

  “Phil, how could that be? You’ve only been going for two years.”

  “I took some shortcuts.”

  Rosa was excited. “I’ll have to get you a graduation present.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Oh, but I want to.” Grabbing his hand, she led him toward the stables. “I want you to look at Boadicea. I’m afraid something’s wrong with her.”

  Phil laughed. “I’m no veterinarian.”

  “But you know horses.” They reached the stables and went to Boadicea’s stall. “Look, Phil, she won’t put her foot down.”

  Phil watched as the young woman led the fine mare out. “She’s just as haughty as ever, I see.”

  “But something’s wrong with her foot. Please look at it, won’t you, Phil?”

  Guessing that Rosa was just manufacturing an excuse to be with him, Phil looked at the hoof, but as he suspected, he saw nothing. “Maybe she just strained a tendon. She’ll be all right.”

  “Come on inside. Daddy’s not home, but Mom would like to see you.”

  Maria Morino was indeed happy to see Phil, insisting that he have some iced tea and a piece of chocolate cake she had baked. Rosa informed her that Phil would be graduating with honors next month, and Maria exclaimed with pleasure, “That’s wonderful! And I must tell you, since you’ve been tutoring James in math, his grades have shot up.”

  “And my English is better too,” Rosa said. “I’m about ready for another lesson. Come on and finish your cake. We’ll go to the living room. All my books are in there.”

  Ten minutes later Phil was sitting beside Rosa on the big couch.

  “I’m tired of writing themes,” she griped as she tried to follow his instructions.

  “You’d better get used to it. You’ll be writing them in college,” Phil smiled.

  “This is good enough. I don’t think old Mrs. Brown reads these things anyway.”

  “Well, I’d better go, then.”

  “Where you going, Phil? I thought we might go for a ride together.”

  “But Boadicea’s crippled, you remember?” he teased her. “Besides, I can’t stay. I’ve got to go see my grandmother.”

  “Where does she live?” Rosa listened as he gave the location of his grandmother’s house. Then she exclaimed, “Why, you can’t ride that bicycle way over there! It’s too far. That must be ten miles from here.”

  “Good for the health. Won’t hurt me a bit.”

  “Phil, take me with you. You’ve told me so much about her.”

  “We can’t both ride a bicycle.” He laughed and got up.

  “Come on. I’ll get Kenny to take us over. He’s not doing anything anyway.”

  “Who’s Kenny?”

  “He works in the gardens and on the grounds, but he does some driving for Daddy and Mom too.”

  “You have to clear this with your mother.”

  “Oh, she’ll let me go. Come on.”

  ****

  Lola Winslow was sitting in the large den her husband had designed, looking out the windows on the south side, which provided a beautiful view of the grounds. Spring had come with a sudden intensity, so that the grass seemed greener than she had ever seen it, and the flower beds blazoned their colors flamboyantly—reds, blues, yellows, and purples.

  Hearing the sound of a car, Lola got up and looked out the front windows on the other side of the room. She watched as a large black car pulled up to the door and was pleased to see her grandson Phillip step outside and then help a young woman from the car. “Who can that be?” she murmured. “She’s a pretty thing. Maybe Phillip’s got a budding romance. I’ll have to look into this!”

  She
waited, knowing that Mary, the maid, would bring them into the study, and when Phil stepped back and allowed the young woman to come in, she got up and moved forward. “Phillip, it’s so good to see you. Give your grandmother a kiss.”

  Phil kissed her on the cheek and then said, “Grandmother, this is Miss Rosa Morino.”

  “How do you do, Mrs. Winslow?” Rosa said almost breathlessly.

  She had enormous dark eyes, Lola noticed, and hair as black as the blackest thing in nature. “Why, I’m so glad you came, my dear. I’ve been getting lonely, but now you can tell me all about this grandson of mine. He’s so modest he never tells me any of his triumphs.”

  “Don’t have any,” Phil laughed. “Come along. Sit down, Grandmother.”

  Lola insisted on asking the maid to bring tea and sweet cakes. When she came back with them, Lola asked, “How are your studies going, Phillip?”

  Rosa answered for him before he could get his mouth open. “He’s going to graduate next month—with honors, Mrs. Winslow. It only took him two years instead of four, and he’s at the top of his class. He’s summa cum laude!” she finished breathlessly, looking at Phil with such pride that Lola laughed.

  “I’m glad to hear of all this, but I don’t know why I have to hear it from this young lady.”

  Phil was embarrassed. He did not like to talk about his accomplishments and tried to change the subject. “Rosa wants to hear about your days of dealing blackjack in the saloons out west.”

  Lola was amused. “Everyone is shocked by that.”

  “Did you really do that, Mrs. Winslow?”

  “Yes, I really did. Those were hard times. I was trying to find my father, and all I knew was that he was working for the Union Pacific Railroad that was being built from coast to coast.”

  Rosa sat forward, her eyes glued to the stately and beautiful woman as she told of her early days and her adventures when she was Lola Montez. She finally threw up her hand and said, “That’s enough of my awful past.”

  “Oh, you’ve done so many things, Mrs. Winslow, and I’ve never done anything!”

  Lola smiled and shook her head. “Most of the things I did in those days you wouldn’t want to do.”

  “Yes, I would too. I want to do lots of things.”

  “Like what?” Lola asked curiously. She was very conscious of Rosa’s frequent looks toward Phillip and knew that she had a tremendous crush on her grandson. She was also aware, however, of Rosa’s father’s occupation. Her husband, Mark, had spoken more than once of Big Tony Morino and what a violent, terrible man he was. The girl, of course, couldn’t see that—her father showed her a different side at home. Lola saw an innocence in the young woman and felt a wave of pity for her. She listened as Rosa spoke animatedly of getting out into the world and doing exciting things.

  “Maybe you could become a flier like my cousin Erin,” Phil said. “And a movie star—she almost became one of those too.”

  “I know. I went to see her. Daddy took me to see her fly in an exhibition when she walked on the wing of that airplane. Oh, I wish I could do something like that!”

  “You’d fall off,” Phil teased. “Just like you fall off your horse all the time.”

  “I do not! I’ve never fallen off!”

  “Not even once? I seem to remember down by the lower pasture when Boadicea gave a little sideways move, and you wound up in mud up to your—”

  “Phil, don’t you bring that up! It’s not fair!”

  Phil leaned back and laughed. He enjoyed teasing Rosa and seeing her reactions. For all her womanly beauty, she was still a little girl at heart. He was also enjoying watching the interactions between Rosa and his grandmother. He knew this was good for his grandmother. She got lonely, and he resolved that he would have to come more often. He started suddenly when he heard Rosa say, “And he wants to go to law school, but he doesn’t have the money. My father would help him, but he won’t take help.”

  Phil jumped back into the conversation. “Now, Rosa, don’t be worried about my schooling. You sound like my sister! She said the same thing to me earlier.”

  Lola put her gaze on her grandson and smiled brightly. “You’re just like your grandfather, Phillip. It was hard to give him anything, and your father is the same way.” She turned back to the girl and said, “I’d like to talk about you for a moment, Rosa. Please don’t think me forward for asking this, but do you know the Lord?”

  Rosa was so startled by the sudden switch in the conversation she just stared at Lola, not able to answer for a moment. When she did reply, she stammered slightly and had none of her usual assurance. “Why, I . . . I was baptized when I was a baby. I don’t remember it, of course, but Mom told me about it.” She thought hard and said, “And I was confirmed, and we go to the Catholic Church.”

  “Well, I’m sure those are all good things, Rosa, but it’s not the same thing as knowing the Lord. As a matter of fact, I’m sure there are good people in all churches who don’t know the Lord—Catholics, Baptists, Methodists, you name it.”

  “But I go to Mass almost every Sunday.”

  Lola Winslow had always been outspoken in her witness. Now she said directly, “Jesus is alive, Rosa. He died for our sins and went into the grave, but He came out of the tomb and is now at the right hand of God. He wants to live in each of our hearts.”

  Rosa looked puzzled. “But if He’s at the right hand of God, how can He live inside us?”

  “I can’t explain it, but I know that in my heart He’s just as real, just as alive, as anything in the world to me. Why, He’s more real to me than this flesh of mine.”

  Rosa grew quiet and cast a quick glance at Phil. She felt humble and hardly knew what to say. Finally she said haltingly, “I . . . I’ve been reading the Bible that Phil gave me. I don’t understand much of it.”

  “That’s good that you’re reading it. Stay in the Gospels. Read about Jesus, and the time will come that He will speak to your heart. Ask Him, and He will show you the way.”

  ****

  By the time Phil and Rosa returned to the Morino place, the sun had gone down. Phil got out of the car, helped Rosa out, then heard her say, “Thank you, Kenny, for taking us and for waiting so long.”

  “No problem at all, Miss Rosa. Anytime.”

  Phil turned and walked along the gravel pathway, saying, “I’m glad you went with me, Rosa. My grandmother gets lonely, I know. She was very much in love with my grandfather. I never saw anything like it.”

  “What was he like?”

  “A fine, handsome man. Back in the early days he was pretty tough, but never with her or with any of his children or grandchildren. The thing is, they were just as much in love at the end of his life as they were at the beginning. Grandmother often told me that he’d write her little poems and love letters even when he knew he would see her that day.”

  “I think that’s so sweet,” Rosa whispered. They had reached Phil’s bicycle, and suddenly she put out her hands. Phil took them automatically. “Thank you for taking me, Phil.”

  Phil held her hands and looked into her eyes, luminous under the moonlight. The moon was low in the sky but shed its silver beams over the earth. He was aware of the firmness of her hands, the perfume she was wearing, the pleasant contours of her face. He was also uncomfortably aware of her womanliness as the moonlight touched the curve of her shoulders and the soft lines of her body.

  Rosa’s hands tightened on his, and she leaned toward him. “Phil, please let me help you go to law school.”

  “I couldn’t do that, Rosa.”

  Her face had a pleading expression. “I want to do something for you, and you won’t let me.”

  Phil saw that her full lower lip was trembling. He had not dated much and felt a sudden sense of awkwardness. But it was an awkwardness touched with desire, and without meaning to, he leaned forward and saw her respond, taking a step toward him so that she was almost touching him.

  Quickly Phil shook his head and gave a strangled half laug
h. “You’ve done a lot for me,” he said, and he knew by the look on her face that she had expected him to kiss her.

  This can’t be. It just can’t be, he thought, almost in a panic. “I . . . I’ve got to go, Rosa. Thanks for going with me to my grandmother’s.”

  Rosa Morino watched as Phil wheeled around and picked up his bicycle. She stood absolutely still as he pedaled away, turning once to wave at her. She did not return the wave, however, and even as he disappeared into the murky darkness, she felt herself trembling. Why didn’t he kiss me? she wondered. He wanted to. I could tell. Giving a half sob, she turned and walked blindly toward the house.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A Door Opens

  Phil moved slowly along the line of graduates at the outdoor ceremony, conscious of the sweet smell of honeysuckle. Glancing toward the scent, he saw the bright greenery and white blossoms of the vine climbing a wall surrounding the open area. Overhead the sky was a bright blue, and the sun poured down its heat in long yellow bars of light. The calling of the graduates’ names made a loud cadence on the air, blending with the warbling of a bird on the fringes of the crowd. He heard the name “James Veasey” and took a step forward. It seemed a small step to him, but it had been a long, hard grind, compacting four years of work into the space of two.

  “Eunice Wainright.”

  Now there were only a few people left, and Phil put his foot on the step of the platform. The dean tolled off the names, and finally Phil stood alone, watching Clarice Williams take her diploma. His name was next. “Phillip Winslow,” he heard, which was followed by a pause. Then the dean said loudly, “Summa cum laude.”

  “Good for you, Phil!” came a cry from the audience. He grinned as he recognized Rosa’s voice, and laughter spread over the crowd. The dean shook his hand and said quickly, “Fine work, Winslow. We’re all very proud of you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Clutching the rolled diploma in his hand, Phil strode across the platform and stepped down. He glanced up and saw Amelia sitting between his grandmother on her left and Rosa on her right. Amelia raised her hands in the traditional prizefighter clasped sign of victory, and Phil waved the diploma in the air.