by McNay, Dan
* * *
Sean climbed down from the cab when she lit up.
“You shouldn’t be smoking if you’re pregnant.”
Daydee just shook her head. She was ready to send him away, right now.
“I understand you don’t like criticism. I don’t like it myself,” he said.
She looked at him. “You wrote that letter,” she told him.
He looked away and then decided what to say.
“Yes.”
“So, was the graffiti easier than writing?” She blew smoke at him.
“What graffiti?”
“You didn’t paint my front door and my truck?”
“No. I wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“The sheriff knows about the graffiti. How about I give him that letter and tell him who sent it?”
“You can do what you like. All I did was write you a letter because I wanted to help you.”
“Like you are trying to help me now?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You know, I’ve been helped enough for one day. You can go. I’ll send you a check for your time.”
“There are still things you should know about the backhoe.”
“Well, don’t write me a letter.”
Going to the cab, she took the keys out and walked away from him back to the office. She pretended to be busy at the desk, until he came up and got into his truck and left.
* * *
Mowing the grass in the morning was hot and sweaty work, even though she was just riding the mower around and around the grounds. She had bought a large straw sun bonnet at the drugstore and tied a big multi-colored scarf on it as a hat band. She laughed at herself in the mirror. Daydee at eighty, mowing the grass. God, what a thought. She found a pair of gloves in the equipment shed. The birds were singing in the trees down by her father’s hiding place when she had started. By ten, she was soaked with sweat and ready to call it a day. She parked the mower and walked back to the office. She had just laid her gloves on the desk and found the last soda, when Winston stopped out front. He got out hesitantly and walked to the office, looking old and frail. He was limping. He knocked on the screen.
“Hello?” he asked.
“What do you want, Winston?”
“I came to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“Can I come in?”
“All right,” she told him. She sat down on the corner of the desk and stretched her aching back. He stumbled over the threshold.
“So talk,” she said.
“Do you mind?” he asked, motioning at the chair.
“Sit.”
The sunlight was streaming across the desktop and chair. He squinted and then backed the chair out of the glare. His bald head was dewy.
“I came to tell you the truth,” he said.
“Ok.”
He glanced up at her.
“We’re trying to get you to leave town because we’re afraid you’ve come back for revenge.”
“Revenge for what?” she asked.
“You know.”
“I’d like you to tell me.”
“I’m sorry for my part in it and I’d take it all back if I could. I was the adult.”
“Winston, I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I need to apologize, whether you want to accept it or not.”
She stared at him.
“All of this is about something I don’t even remember?”
He looked up in disbelief. She took her sunglasses off.
“So tell me what you did to me.”
“The rape?” he asked softly.
She had been pregnant when she got off the bus in New Orleans. She got rid of it immediately. It was easy to do there. Her last year of school here had been a string of blackouts because of the drinking and the dope. She had just figured the pregnancy was the result of one of those blackouts. Just one of the boys. She was always sore the day after. She was much more careful in New Orleans. There was no more overdoing it. New Orleans wasn’t a little town. No one had to face you at school or on the street the next day. There would be no one to drive her home and tuck her in. She had always awakened in her own bed here in Paris.
“So tell me about it,” she said.
“The boys were having a party in the pasture above the football field. They had just won the Homecoming game. I was putting away gear and locking up. It was real late and everyone was gone. There were a couple of cars still in the pasture and a bonfire.” His voice was a whisper. “I knew it was Edward and Jack up there. I went up to shoo them home.”
The best players had to be looked after. They could get into drunken accidents.
“The car radio was blaring. Edward had all of your clothes off and was on top of you when I pulled up. My headlights caught him.”
“All three of you?” she asked.
“Edward was pissed at me. He told me that if I didn’t cover for him, he would quit the team. He and Jack were the reason we were going to win state that year. He had whisky and marijuana.”
“So Jack was next?”
“Edward said you did this all the time. You were singing along with the radio, stoned out of your mind. He said you wouldn’t even remember. You were so gorgeous.”
“Did I smile at you when you stuck it in?” Daydee asked him.
Winston didn’t look up from the floor. He shook his head.
“And then Jack?”
“You had had enough I think,” Winston said. “That piece missing from Jack’s earlobe? You bit him real good. His scream shook you loose.”
Daydee suddenly realized that this was the night she had gone to the game with Mat. And there was something else, something that she had thought was just a barely recalled nightmare. She remembered vaguely Jack’s screaming and her teeth holding on to something for dear life. She had thought it was just a dream. There hadn’t been any other trace of that night. A little sore the next day, but she had been a little sore before.
“I put a blanket on you and carried you to my car and took you home. Your mother thought I had rescued you. I never talked about it with anybody.”
Daydee didn’t really know what to say. In the measure of things, what were three more penises she couldn’t remember? There were a lot of penises she didn’t want to remember.
“Then you were gone. You mother was sure you ran away. You took some money and some of your things. She didn’t seem too interested in finding you. So we all pretended it didn’t happen.”
She looked out at the grass and the markers.
“So why confess?”
“I’m afraid.”
“Of me?”
“I’m going to hell. I’ve been a drunk most of my life. I’ve been sober about 500 days now. I want to make amends. When you showed up, it stirred up the hornet nest. I’ve never seen Edward so crazy. He and Jack are sure you are here for revenge.”
“So who tagged my apartment and my truck?”
“I’m not sure. It wasn’t me. Probably Edward or somebody working for him.”
“So the idea is to rape me some more?” she asked.
“I can make it up to you. I can tell you what they are planning.”
“Winston, you’ve been watching too much television. This isn’t a fucking soap opera. I can just call the sheriff and tell him what’s going on.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“He’s involved.”
“With what?”
“Edward got him elected.”
And she had a date with him. Shit.
“Winston, go away,” she said. She was tired. “I’ll have to let you know about the forgiveness part.”
He stood and left with his hands deep in his pockets. He looked back at the office before getting into his car. Twenty-five years, she wondered, did she even remember how it felt when she left?
* * *
So they were off to church. The sheriff, Rob, appeare
d right on the dot, in a clean suit and tie, his strands of hair neatly trimmed. She looked good she thought: conservative. It was going to be a whole new group of people. A different church. Going with the sheriff was a respectable entrance into another group of God-fearing Paris folk. She had never heard anyone call themselves Parisians here. She wondered why? It had always been ‘from Paris’ or ‘from Edgar County’. She asked the sheriff that as they were driving over. He laughed.
“Probably too highfaluting,” he said.
They parked and entered the church. There was not one hello to the sheriff. Daydee had noticed the red-haired lady from the grocery and the baby shower and she shot her a little wave, but the woman acted like she hadn’t noticed. Ok. The mom with the new-born, also from the baby shower, was up in the front row, but Daydee didn’t have the courage now to greet her. She was preoccupied anyway.
They sat halfway up, near the aisle. The sheriff was very solicitous. He found her the correct hymn book and showed her where the songs were when they came up. These people all stood to sing. The sheriff liked this part of it. He had a deep resonant voice, though he didn’t always hit the notes. The congregation all heard him. Daydee didn’t know any of the hymns. They had never gone to church. She vaguely recalled her father playing piano, but that might have been a dream. She looked at her date.
Could this guy help her out when the shit hit the fan with her father? He seemed a good enough sort. Good manners anyway. It was really like going out with a dancing bear. She would have to work on her attitude toward his looks if this was going to go on. But he even moved around like a bear.
The sermon went on too long. Something about the prodigal son’s return. She had a nagging suspicion it was supposed to refer to her, but she just couldn’t believe she was important enough to be talked about even in a bible story. None of the people here seemed the least bit aware of her. Or they were doing a really good job of pretending they didn’t know her. The little social coffee reception after was the same. The minister spoke to the sheriff and welcomed her to the service and that was it. No one else had a word to say. There was one nod and a half smile as they were leaving.
They went to brunch at the other restaurant where everyone went on week mornings with family. They had to wait for a table. She asked questions about his work, about family and his divorce. He enjoyed the attention. There was another couple of nods as they were leaving. It had been all right. He had even asked her questions about New Orleans. He liked the parts about the fancy food. He might even ask her out again, dreaming about some fancy dishes that she had made him think she could make.
He walked her to her door. And did ask for a dinner and a movie date. She agreed and pecked him on the cheek before going in. This was harmless enough.
Chapter nine
She stayed up late thinking about what she should do. Winston had her believing that he was telling her the truth. What would happen when they found out he was crossing them? The television was on, but she wasn’t really following it or listening. She finally turned the sound off. She wished John were here and they could both just get drunk and shine it all on. The baby she got rid of in New Orleans probably belonged to one of them. It was early with her pimp, Ringer, and he hadn’t started sending her out to the sidewalk yet. He paid for it. That was a secret revenge in itself, wasn’t it? No, probably not. Revenge is supposed to feel like revenge. She really didn’t want revenge for what happened so long ago anyway. Who cared? She wanted revenge for what they had done to her in last few months. Maybe ‘Rapist’ in big red letters on a couple cars? Or across the entrance to Edward’s office? But that would just lead to more graffiti on her stuff. A quick and deadly physical attack wouldn’t turn out well. She’d probably go to jail. There had to be something else to do.
It didn’t occur to her what she could try until early in the morning. She got gussied up, as her mother used to say. And went calling. Down to the café to have breakfast with the guys. The entire restaurant looked up at her when she came in the front door. The three of them were at their usual table. Edward seemed to be turning red. She sat down with them.
“So, what’s up gentlemen?” she asked.
Winston stood and left, going out the front door. He hadn’t said a word or looked at her. He had carried his napkin with him, tucked into his collar. Jack smiled at the air around her.
“So how are you doing these days?” he asked. “I see you had a little trouble at the cemetery?”
The waitress was hovering nearby. Daydee waved her over and ordered an omelet.
“I’m hungry all the time. And sick and throwing up all at the same time. According to what time of the day it is.”
Edward was eating slowly and deliberately.
“So, either of you heard from Mat? He seems to have disappeared?”
“I think he’s gone to look for himself,” Jack said with that smile.
“That’s too bad. I just bought the cutest little nightie. Either of you want to come over and try it on? It would match your eyes perfectly, Jack.”
“I’m not that kind of sicko.”
“No? You like them to lie real still with their eyes closed? Like they are dead? You like them dead, Jack?”
“I don’t think this is a great conversation. What’s the point?” Jack asked.
“There is no point,” Edward said. “No one will believe what she has to say. They all know what she is.”
“How about a child?” Daydee asked him. “How old do you think he would be now? Who do you think he looks like?”
“What?” Edward asked.
“It might be real easy to prove who his daddy is. Maybe he’d want to know.”
“I don’t believe you,” Edward said.
“Well, come on over and try on that nightie, and I might show you pictures. I understand you’ve been single a while.”
“What do you want, Deidre?” he asked.
“I’m here and I’m not going away. If you push, maybe I’ll push back. I am my mother’s daughter. And I could have the bouncing baby boy come to visit. Wonder if the town would notice the resemblance?”
Jack got up.
“Wish you all the best, Deidre,” Jack told her.
“So, you know whose it is?”
“I leave myself in God’s hands.”
“You already been forgiven?”
He walked out.
“I seem to be driving men away.”
“So what if there is a kid, what of it?” Edward asked. “He’s grown now. Maybe you’re a pregnant grandma.”
She eyed him.
“Could be. How’s your son doing?”
“Ok.”
“Sarah says there’s no wife and no kids yet.”
“So you did find out for me?” he asked.
“I guess I did. I don’t know why particularly. You guys aren’t helping me out at all.”
“I’ve been seriously embarrassed in front of the bank board. Maybe we are even.”
“Not until I have pictures of you in the nightie.”
He laughed. All the heads in the restaurant turned. It wasn’t exactly a natural laugh. He needed practice.
“You aren’t so bad as I thought. Maybe you’re not the problem,” Edward said.
“Maybe next time you’re out driving around at night with your little spray can, you might think about a woman frightened in the dark with a loaded shotgun in her hands.”
“Now there’s a scary thought,” he said. “I got to go. I’m buying breakfast. That ok?”
“It’s a free country.”
He got up.
“So who does he look like?”
“You know,” she said.
He handed a twenty to the waitress and left. The entire restaurant was watching her. It felt heavy. She ate slowly and then finished as if she had all the time in the world. Rob came in.
“Hey, handsome!” she called.
His grin was the escape key. But she had to dabble some more, while he ate. At lea
st the gossips in here would know she wasn’t going anywhere.
* * *
Sarah just appeared one afternoon at the screen door at the cemetery office. Daydee was sitting on the floor, surrounded by stacks of files, her back against the desk. An overflowing wastebasket was next to her.
“Come in,” Daydee hollered.
“You don’t believe in working at a desk like other people. There’s one right there.”
“It’s more comfortable down here. The filing is a disaster. It’s not so serious here. I’m a little girl again playing paper dolls. Great for your perspective. My back is really sore.”