by Donis Casey
Alafair thought the informal breakfast a wonderful way to start another fine sunny day. Elizabeth had thrown open the curtains, and Blanche took advantage of the bright morning sun by sitting on a cushion on the floor before the tea table, still in her nightgown, basking in a shaft of light and soaking up warmth like a lizard.
Web took his leave and Chase disappeared, leaving Elizabeth and the Tuckers sipping their drinks in high content.
“I think I’ll go over and ask Cindy if she wants to come with us to see the school get exploded tomorrow.” Elizabeth said. “Is that all right with y’all? Going out to see the actors always cheers her up considerable.” Before anyone had time to respond, Elizabeth was interrupted by a crash from upstairs. A look of exasperation crossed her face and she stood up. “Good grief! That boy.”
Blanche giggled at the sound of her aunt’s voice bellowing “Chaaase!” as she disappeared up the stairs.
“Has Chase been particularly troublesome lately?” Shaw asked.
“No more so than usual,” Alafair answered. “I declare, I hope she doesn’t find that boy drowned in the canal one of these days.” In her opinion six years old was too young for any child to be free-range. Especially a boy as headstrong as Chase Kemp.
Shaw gave her a wry smile. “She don’t have the mothering experience you do, Alafair. He’ll bust a lip or step on a bee one of these days and they’ll both learn. Maybe you can give her the benefit of your wisdom while we’re here.”
Alafair’s answering smile was just as wry. “Unless she’s changed right down to her backbone over the past nine years she would rather poke herself with a nail than pay a lick of attention to me, Shaw.” She leaned forward and whispered into Blanche’s ear. “Now, don’t you go repeating this to your aunt, honey. We don’t care to hurt her feelings.”
Blanche puffed. After a lifetime of keeping the secrets of more siblings than anyone had a right to have, she knew how to keep her mouth shut. “Yes, Ma, I’m not stupid.”
A couple of months ago her sass might have earned her a reprimand, but now Alafair simply squeezed her knee. Better sass than lethargy.
Elizabeth came down the staircase hauling her squirming son by one arm. Though her color was high she seemed more amused than angry at the boy. “This little rascal tried to climb up into the top of his daddy’s closet and brought hat boxes, papers, valises and all down on top of him. It’s a wonder he didn’t get himself squashed!”
Shaw leaned forward in his chair and drew the boy toward him. “Come here, pard, and tell your old Uncle Shaw all about it.” Chase had been twisting like an eel in an attempt get away from his mother, but he eagerly clambered up Shaw’s leg and into his lap. Alafair was glad to see that Shaw seemed to want make the boy his project. She knew that he felt sorry for the child. He had a lot of empathy for naughty boys.
“Oh, good!” Satisfied to have her son taken care of and off her hands, Elizabeth turned her attention to Alafair. “Sister, why don’t you come with me over to Cindy’s? If we gang up on her, perhaps she’ll be more willing to come with us to the movie shoot! Besides, I would like for you to see how nice Cindy has done up her house. ”
Blanche was all for it. “I want to go see Miz Stewart’s house, Ma!”
“Blanche, you’re barefoot and your hair looks like you’ve been in a high wind! And we don’t want to leave your daddy and Chase here on their own.”
Shaw had been listening to the women’s conversation with one ear as Chase prattled on about goats. “Pshaw, Alafair, if after all the daddying I’ve done I can’t watch after a young fellow for half an hour I should be switched and run out of town.”
Alafair shrugged. “All right then. Elizabeth, if you can wait five minutes for Blanche to throw on some shoes we’ll go with you to visit your neighbor for a spell.”
Cindy’s House
They entered the Stewart house through the back door into the kitchen. Alafair’s immediate thought was that the kitchen was miniscule. How could a woman be expected to cook a proper meal in a broom closet? Her second observation was that Cindy had piped-in water and a shiny new white enamel gas stove. Not much use to have all the modern appliances in your kitchen if you did not keep it clean, though. Alafair wrinkled her nose at the sight of a stack of crusty dishes sitting next to the built-in sink.
Elizabeth did not seem to notice. “Cindy, it’s Elizabeth!” she called. “I’ve brought company, so get decent!”
“Elizabeth?” Cindy’s girlish voice drifted in from somewhere in the front of the house. Alafair took Blanche’s hand and followed Elizabeth into the parlor just in time to meet Cindy coming out of her bedroom. Alafair was shocked to see that she was still in her dressing gown, a fluffy, mauve affair with écru lace trim. Her golden hair lay loose about her shoulders in charming disarray. She had been weeping. Her pale pink complexion was mottled, and her blue eyes shone with feverish intensity. “Oh, dear. You should have warned me you were going to pay a visit, Elizabeth!” She shot Alafair an embarrassed glance. “I apologize for the state of my house, Miz Tucker. And myself. I promise that I am usually in better order at this time of day.”
Alafair opened her mouth to say something soothing but Elizabeth gave a dismissive wave and launched straight away into her purpose for coming.
“Cindy, Shaw told us he talked to Chris Martin yesterday and found out that the moving picture people are going to blow up the old Rural School tomorrow. We aim to go out and watch the fun. Come with us, won’t you? It should be real exciting.”
“I can’t think about that right now, Elizabeth. I just feel so bad about poor Bernie Arruda getting killed like that practically on my doorstep.” She hesitated, then continued. “And about those men pawing through my house. And Geoff having to be away from home for so long and all. Besides, I promised to deliver some used clothing to the mission in the barrio.”
Elizabeth’s expression was part empathy and part impatience. “You can do that anytime. I will not take no for an answer, Cindy. You’ve been about as gloomy as a wet day for weeks. Why, the other night at the pot luck was the first time I’ve seen you smile and act normal in a long time. I know you’re still feeling frail because of your loss, and that’s why all these unfortunate occurrences have upset you so. I know it’s awful. Bernie was a scoundrel, but he was a likable one and he didn’t deserve to get murdered. But it won’t do him or you a bit of good to sit around and weep. The marshal’s men are come and gone and no harm done, and Geoff will be done with his deposition directly. So dry your tears and get dressed. We’ll take our minds off it and soldier on the best we can. I brought my sister and niece over to see all the lovely things you have.”
She turned to Alafair. “Cindy brought wagonloads of family heirlooms with her from Iowa—her grandma’s china from France, all this beautiful upholstered furniture, lace and velvet comforters. Just look at those hand-tatted lace curtains in the window there. Blanche, Miz Stewart here has the prettiest collection of china dolls you ever did see on a shelf in her bedroom. Maybe she’ll let you have a look at them if you promise not to touch.”
Blanche’s expression was eager. “May I, Ma?”
“That’s up to Miz Stewart, honey.”
Elizabeth’s brusque and unsympathetic manner had given Alafair pause, but she obviously knew how best to handle her fragile friend. Cindy had grown visibly more cheerful as Elizabeth enumerated the treasures in her house. “I would love for you to see my dolls, sweetheart! Why don’t you ladies have a seat? Blanche can come with me and look at the dolls while I dress. Elizabeth, would you play hostess? There is lemonade in a pitcher in the icebox. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Blanche followed Cindy into the bedroom and Alafair sat down on the tufted divan. “I believe I’ll forgo the lemonade, Elizabeth. I’m fine.”
Elizabeth’s smile was ironic. “Cindy’s kitchen does not usually look like she’s been feeding field hands.” Alafair’s expression of chagrin at being so transparent made Elizabeth laugh. Sh
e sat down and leaned in confidentially. “I thought Cindy seemed cheered considerable after being out among folks the other evening, but I reckon such close death has given her a setback.”
Alafair agreed. She had experienced her fair share of suffering. “That’s natural. The only cure for the grief of losing a child is enough time, I expect. Even after you’re able to crawl out of the worst of it, for a long while any little thing can set you off.”
“She surely is taken with Blanche,” Elizabeth observed. “Maybe they can help each other get better. Sure enough, Alafair, I think going to see the action tomorrow will do both of them a world of good. Cindy has been mighty interested in the movie company. The two of us have been able to go downtown a couple of times to watch them film, and after both times she has been like her old self. At least until something reminds her of her misery.” A sour look came over her face. “Usually Geoff.”
Elizabeth would have said more, but Blanche skipped back into the room with Cindy on her heels. “Mama, come look at Miz Stewart’s beautiful doll collection. She’s got one with red hair and freckles that looks like Fronie!”
Alafair took the girl’s hand. “Just in one minute, sugar. Don’t get too excited, now. Your cheeks are all red. Sit down for a spell and Miz Stewart will take us back there directly.”
Cindy’s ringlets were now caught up with a pale blue ribbon and cascaded from her crown to the nape of her neck like a golden waterfall. She was dressed in a more utilitarian frock this morning than she had been on the evening of the party, though it was still nothing that Alafair would wear to do housework. The one-piece, light and dark blue checked gabardine dress sported a high collar of white piqué that stood straight up over a blue sateen bow at the neck. Two rows of ivory buttons marched in a straight line from the top of each shoulder and down the front of her dress. The hemline of her softly pleated skirt stopped three or four inches above her ankles, revealing ivory stockings and a pair of low-heeled beige leather pumps. A wide belt that matched the bow tie encircled Cindy’s waist. Alafair eyed the slim figure, trying not to feel envious. She had been that slender once, before twelve pregnancies.
“What say we make plans for tomorrow, Cindy?” Elizabeth was not giving her friend a chance to decline her invitation. “I figure we can gather over at my house for breakfast then get on the road before the sun comes up. We can be out to the Rural School in Web’s roadster in half an hour, easy.”
“Will Web be coming?” Alafair asked, surprised.
Elizabeth glanced at Cindy before she answered. “I am sure neither Web nor Geoff could care in the slightest.”
“Shaw has only driven an automobile a dozen times, to my knowledge. I don’t know if he’ll want to take on Web’s Ford and all us females for that long a trip.”
“I am perfectly capable of driving Web’s Ford.” Elizabeth did not seem offended, but she was quite emphatic.
Alafair did not know whether to laugh at herself or apologize for her gaffe, so all she said was, “Of course you are.”
“I would like to go with you, Elizabeth,” Cindy said. “If Geoff has no objections, that is.”
Elizabeth puffed. “Why should he care? He won’t even be here.”
“Still, I should telephone Geoff’s clerk and have him ask when it is convenient.” Her ears pinkened. “I’d go down there, but he doesn’t like for me to interrupt him at the office. I expect it will be all right, as long as I am here to give him his supper if he decides to come home tomorrow night.”
The Photograph
Alafair could tell by Elizabeth’s expression that she was about to say something incendiary. It seemed like a good time for a change of topic. “I’m looking forward to seeing how these actor people do their work. Why, even I have heard of Hobart Bosworth.”
The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Elizabeth was energized. “I expect! He’s been in a bunch of pictures and is right famous. He used to live right here in Tempe. That was before me and Web moved out here. ”
Blanche was enchanted. “Have y’all got to meet any of the other movie actors beside Dorothy and Miss Landowska, Aunt Elizabeth?”
“Oh, yes!” Cindy answered for her. “Several of them. Me and Elizabeth have even talked to the director, Mr. Carleton, and to Mr. Bosworth himself. He is just a charming man. One evening last week, he hosted the whole town at the Goodwin Opera House for a special showing of the first motion picture he was ever in. It was called Fatherhood. Did you ever see it?”
“I never did.” Alafair did not mention that she had never seen any motion picture.
“That was the best fun!” Elizabeth clapped her hands. “Over a thousand people showed up. They had to show the flicker twice and still they could hardly get everyone into the theater. And then Mr. Bosworth and all the actors got together in front of the Opera House with everybody who came, and we all had our photograph took.”
Cindy jumped up. “I have a copy of that photograph. Oh, wait until you see this.” A moment later she returned to the parlor with a large framed photograph in her hand and squeezed herself onto the divan between Alafair and Blanche.
The photograph was taken from above and at some distance. Alafair guessed that the photographer had been standing on the roof of a building across the street so he could encompass the entire crowd. “My word, that is more folks than I’ve ever seen all together in one place. Did everybody in the whole town show up?”
Elizabeth stood to peer over Alafair’s shoulder. “Just about. See, there are the actors right in the front. That’s Hobart Bosworth.” She pointed. “You recognize Dorothy Clark and Miss Landowska. And next to her is Goldie Caldwell. She plays the Yaqui’s wife. Jack Curtis there is the villain Martinez, but in real life he is a very nice man.”
Elizabeth enumerated the rest of the cast, but Alafair was too caught by Bosworth’s image to pay much attention to the others. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she probably had seen his image on a poster in front of the O&B Theater on Main Street in Boynton. He was a tall man, dressed like a rich industrialist in a three-piece suit and a striped tie, with a crisp white handkerchief peeking out of his breast pocket. It was hard to make out individual faces, but she could see that Bosworth sported a tousled head-full of very blond hair. “This man plays an Indian chief?”
“When you see him in his costume you will hardly believe he is the same man, Alafair,” Elizabeth assured her.
“Where are you, Miz Stewart?”
Cindy’s finger tapped a place just to the left of and behind the actors at the front the mob. “There we are, Blanche, dear, me and your aunt. We were standing right behind Goldie.”
“I see you!”
Blanche had good eyes or a good imagination, for all Alafair could make out was two white ovals topped by big hats. “Is Bernie Arruda in this picture?”
Elizabeth gave Cindy a furtive glance before she answered. “All the Mexicans are in the back row, see? It’s hard to make out who is who. I never have tried to find him before.” She leaned down and peered closely at the picture in Cindy’s hand before she indicated a dark man with a big grin. “That may be him there, or one of the other Arrudas. They favor one another.”
“Look, there’s Honor Moeur! I recognize that bonnet with the white peonies on it.” Cindy pointed out the doctor’s wife with such enthusiasm that Alafair suspected she was more interested in getting off the topic of Bernie Arruda than in identifying her friends.
“That must be Doc Moeur beside her, then,” Elizabeth said. “See how the light reflects off his bald head?”
They spent another few minutes picking people out of the crowd, but most were strangers to Alafair. She studied the indistinct, smiling faces gazing upwards at the camera, and wondered which of them was a murderer.
A Morning Drive
They arose before dawn to a chilly morning. Alafair dressed Blanche in her warmest woolen dress and stockings. From their veranda bedroom, the Tuckers entered the house through the kitchen to find Eliz
abeth in her usual place at the stove, scrambling eggs with chiles and cheese and toasting tortillas in a skillet. Within seconds she had whipped up plates for them and sent them into the parlor, where they found Web, Chase, and Cindy seated on the sofas around the long, low tea table, eating their eggs and tortillas and sipping from mugs of hot coffee.
After breakfast was done, Elizabeth wrestled Chase into his coat and the two of them left out the back for the Carrizals, where Chase would spend the day while the rest of the family made their trek to the movie set on the eastern edge of town.
As soon as she returned, Web left for work and everyone else bundled up for a drive. Alafair was swallowed up in one of Elizabeth’s travel dusters, and the sleeves of Web’s duster were six inches too short for Shaw’s long arms. But they gamely donned the borrowed coats after Elizabeth told them it could be a dusty trip over unpaved roads to the Rural School.
Elizabeth climbed into the driver’s seat of Web’s Hupmobile with Cindy beside her in the front, while Alafair and Shaw squeezed into the narrow back seat with Blanche wedged between them. Blanche was bundled up like a bear cub in a coat and hat and covered with a blanket. Much to her chagrin, her mother made her cover her mouth and nose with a scarf, making her feel like a bandit. Her cough was all but gone after a day of drinking Mrs. Carrizals’ healing tea and breathing eucalyptus-infused steam, but Alafair was taking no chances with her fragile lungs.
The sun was just rising when they set out. The passengers sank back into the Hupmobile’s plush leather seats as Elizabeth pulled away from the house.
Tempe was about the same size as the Tuckers’ home town of Boynton, some eighteen hundred souls. All the homes in Elizabeth’s neighborhood were on very large fenced lots, and most boasted chicken yards, big truck gardens, small orchards, rabbit hutches, dove cotes, and pig sties, maybe a cow or two and some sheep and goats. The place was more like a collection of small farmsteads than an urban neighborhood.