One of Us

by Craig DiLouie

  “We’ll be done that field by the end of the day, Reggie. You were worried about Mary, but she’s the best in the crew. Didn’t I tell you I’d teach her good?”

  “That field got done yesterday while you had the sniffles. Bowie took care of it. I want you on another field. The coloreds ain’t picking fast enough.”

  “Don’t you worry none,” Gaines said. “We’ll handle it lickety-split.”

  Albod gave him the eye for a moment. Gaines mopped sweat with a handkerchief while he smiled back.

  The farmer shook his head. “All right. Get to it, I guess.”

  Gaines was grinning now. “Come on, you kids. You heard the boss. Get out the truck. Pokes are in the barn. Get me one, too, Enoch. I’m gonna pitch in today.”

  “Yes, sir,” the dog said.

  “George, you heard Mr. Albod. You’re with the animals.”

  “All right, Mr. Gaines.”

  He scanned the house. No sign of Miss Sally. Maybe he’d catch a glimpse of her on the way to school and give her a wink. Make his presence known.

  She hadn’t told her daddy about him coming on to her, which meant one thing. She wanted him. He was right.

  The talk they had. Their little secret.

  Darlene ran off years ago and left him to raise Archie on his own. After that, he found that not many girls hankered to date a man who worked at a Home. They made assumptions about the germ. They had notions that teaching the kids was unclean work fit only for a rough sort of man. Gaines thought diddling with Sally Albod was just what he needed to put some spice in his life. Now he saw the big picture. No need for spice when a man could have the whole steak.

  Sally offered him a ticket out of the Home. A way off the Colonel’s dark road. His rescue from dealing with monster kids with swishing tails and batwings for ears. The plan arrived fully formed in his mind. He gets her on the hook. A year down the road, he marries her. A mess of years separating their ages, but it ain’t unheard of, it happens. As for Albod, he is getting along in years himself. He hires Gaines on full-time at the farm. Gaines moves into this nice big ol’ house with all these pretty blond girls sharing space under the same roof. At last, he’s running with the big dogs. Sally Albod makes all his dreams come true.

  Finally, for once in his shadowed life, Gaines had himself an angle.

  Thirteen

  Sally walked to school behind her sisters. Normally a late sleeper, she’d gotten up extra early today so she could go with them. The girls talked about school, boys, music. She didn’t participate, keeping her head down.

  Every time a truck passed on the lonely road, she flinched and stared at her sneakers as they crunched the stones. Sally didn’t even want to look at Dave Gaines right now. Scaring the wits out of her like that on Sunday. She’d had nightmares two nights running.

  In last night’s dream, he showed up in her bedroom reeking of beer. Don’t you look fine, Miss Sally. How’d you like to earn a dollar? She knew if she tried to leave, his arm would lunge like a copperhead and snag her. The curtains blew on a breeze, the open window pitch black with night. She could jump and take her chances, but she couldn’t move. She stayed rooted to the spot.

  That was when he touched her, his hot breath stinging her neck.

  Sally had woken up gasping with a crushing weight on her chest. Pushing and kicking at her sheets, her nightgown soaked with sweat. She went to the bathroom for a drink of water, weeping with shame.

  She hadn’t jumped. In the end, she’d let him have her.

  She could tell Daddy everything and make it all go away. By the time Daddy got through with that pervert, he’d be pissing with a crutch. Nobody messed with Reggie Albod or his kin. This simple truth was practically county law. But Sally would have to explain what she was doing out at the Home. Sheriff Burton might spill the beans about her dressing up in monsta face.

  A big ol’ applecart falling over and making a mess of trouble. Daddy doted on her and her sisters. When he laid down the law, though, it was to be regarded as one of the Commandments, no rebelling permitted. With a single sentence spoken, Daddy could change her life.

  Her liberties, her friends, everything.

  No, she couldn’t tell Daddy. For now, she was on her own.

  At school, she dumped her book bag in her locker. Amy fell into step beside her on her way to homeroom.

  “You look like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Amy said. “What’s wrong?”

  Sally turned up a smile that came out a grimace. She wanted to be honest but couldn’t. If she did, Amy might tell other people, who might tell their folks. If her daddy heard about Mr. Gaines’s advances from anybody but her, he’d think she’d encouraged it. Might even believe she was carrying on with him behind his back.

  Then there’d be hell to pay for everybody.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “You look tied in a knot yourself. How are you?”

  “I don’t know. Jake’s been out of sorts ever since he punched out Archie.”

  “He really hates violence. It’s bugging him he had to resort to it.”

  “I don’t like when he’s distant. I don’t know where I stand. Yesterday, I did a big stretch in health class. Rob Rowland’s eyes nearly popped through his Coke-bottle glasses. Jake hardly even noticed.”

  Sally laughed. “He must have some weight on his mind.”

  “I should just give him some space, right?”

  The bell rang. “I got to go. We’ll have dinner together and talk more.”

  She attended her morning classes, though her mind roamed elsewhere. Just going through the motions. In health class, she took her seat next to Archie Gaines, who wore a hangdog look and a piece of tape over his nose.

  “You all done fighting?” she said.

  “That’s up to him. I’m ready for a rematch any time he is.”

  “Your nose gonna be okay?”

  His sorry condition touched her. It must have been hard for him, growing up without no mama and half a daddy.

  Archie’s face reddened. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sorry to see you hurting, is all.”

  “I don’t need anybody feeling sorry for me.”

  “Jake ain’t happy about it, either. Maybe you should just leave each other be.”

  “Jake’s all right,” Archie said.

  Amy walked in and took her seat in the back next to Jake, who sat hunched over his notebook scribbling. Archie followed her progress with hungry eyes.

  Sally understood now. Archie liked Jake just fine, but he liked Amy far more. That was why he’d started up on Jake about the plague kids and tried to pick a fight. All cover for what he really wanted. Just like his daddy, wanting things he couldn’t have and willing to make everybody miserable in his pursuit.

  “We’ll see how it goes,” Archie added.

  She turned away. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore. The apple had fallen too close to the tree for her liking. It was unsettling that even after Archie got his nose punched, he still wanted what he wanted.

  Mr. Benson told the class to simmer down. He sat on the edge of his desk. “I want to talk to all y’all about something kind of serious today. You won’t find it in the textbook or on the next test. This is something pretty new. Or rather, something old we’re just now figuring out and able to study.”

  The teacher went to the board and wrote, DATE RAPE.

  “Rape is sex that happens without one partner’s consent,” he went on. “Today, society considers it one of the worst crimes. If you’re infected with the germ and pass it on through rape, you could go to jail for life.”

  Mr. Benson picked up a magazine off his desk and held it high for everybody to see. Sally caught a glimpse of the word Ms., the liberal way of saying miss, on the cover.

  “Two years ago, an article was published about date rape in colleges,” he said. “This is where rape happens between people who know each other. Maybe a guy gets you so drunk you pass out. Or it happens during
a date. This kind of thing goes on far more often than we thought, and it’s alarming for a mess of reasons.”

  The teacher returned to the front of his desk and parked his rear on the edge. “My lecture is short and sweet. Don’t do it. Sex is between consenting adults. That’s it. Otherwise, I want to know what all y’all think today. I know it’s an uncomfortable topic, but I’m hoping we can have a discussion.”

  Hands shot up across the classroom, mostly girls. Did a woman have to give consent out loud for it to be real? What if a man already had a sexual relationship with a woman? What if they were already married? Was it consent if a woman said yes to sex while drunk? What if she said yes but then got drunk and passed out? What if she said yes but changed her mind halfway through the act? What if she changed her mind the next morning after she sobered up?

  “Well I’ll be,” Mr. Benson said. “These are really good questions.”

  Sally crossed her arms and listened. The teacher did his best answering. It turned out that while his proposed solution was simple, the whole thing was pretty complicated. Legal jurisdictions looked at it in different ways, resulting in a mess of precedents. It was hard to prove rape between people who were dating. And it remained legal for a man to have sex with his wife without her consenting to it.

  He kept tossing their questions back at them, asking what they thought.

  She raised her hand. “What about the victim? What if a friend of the family rapes a girl and tells her she asked for it. She can’t tell anybody because she’s awful ashamed and she thinks they won’t believe her. What does she do?”

  The teacher pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. “Wow.” The bell rang. “And I’m saved by the bell. Excellent discussion today. Go get your dinner.”

  The kids started packing up their pencils and notebooks. Sally got up from her desk and approached Mr. Benson.

  He smiled. “When I said I was saved by the bell, I meant I didn’t have a good answer for you. That’s another one I would have thrown back to the class.”

  “I got one more question for you. I hope you can answer it.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “What if a guy won’t leave a girl alone and she thinks he might rape her.”

  “But no crime’s been committed.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And she knows him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If there’s a boy at this school bugging you,” he said.

  “There ain’t.”

  “Well, that’s another tough one. You can’t arrest people for saying things. I guess the best thing for her is to avoid being alone with him.”

  “Okay,” she said, disappointed.

  “Maybe the girl could reach out to friends and family who can protect her. She could learn ways to protect herself. Otherwise, I’d have to think on it.”

  Sally couldn’t go to her daddy. Could she ask Troy or Jake?

  Maybe she didn’t have to suffer this alone.

  The alternative was to keep a steak knife in her book bag.

  “Thanks, Mr. Benson.”

  “Sally, these are really specific questions,” he said. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  Fourteen

  Eyes followed Amy as she walked across the school cafeteria with her tray of chicken, dumplings, and beans. It amazed her how just walking across a room fully clothed made the boys ache and sweat. Just a few years ago, they were all a big club that wanted nothing to do with the girls. Now they grinned and stared. Even after Jake busted Archie’s face, they gave her the brazen eye.

  All these boys checking her out, talking about her behind her back, thinking about her when they went to bed. Meanwhile, the one boy she wanted looking had his nose buried in a sheet of paper.

  Jake wore a white collared dress shirt today. No T-shirt with an angry band logo. She liked him with a clean-cut look, but it just added to the mystery.

  “Hey,” she said. “Can I sit with you boys?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  Michelle sat alongside her. They looked over at Jake and Troy reading and talking like conspirators. Bag dinners sat untouched on the table between them.

  “What are you boys fixin’ to do now?” Michelle said.

  Jake looked at Amy as if she’d asked the question. “You ain’t gonna like it. But it’s something I got to do.”

  “Quit being mysterious and spill the beans,” Michelle said.

  Still looking at Amy, Jake shook his head. “After school.”

  “It’s gonna be crazy,” Troy said.

  “What are you reading there?” Amy said.

  “Something I wrote,” Jake told her. “I was thinking about Archie. How I had to slug him to make my point. I’d like to reach out to folks in a different manner.”

  “How are you gonna do that?”

  “After school. If you want to come along with me, you’ll see.”

  “Jake Coombs, am I beautiful?”

  He smiled. “As a sunrise.”

  “And do you love me?”

  Jake glanced at his friends, who stared at him with wide eyes. He set his jaw. “I sure do, Amy Green. I love you more than anything.”

  “Oh, my Lord,” Michelle said while Troy laughed.

  “So this thing you’re planning,” Amy pressed. “You’d rather do whatever it is than make out with me. Is that what I’m hearing?”

  The question wiped the smile off his face. “It’s something I got to do. I’m done playing at making things happen. Meet me after school and you’ll see.”

  “Oh,” Amy said, struck by his seriousness. “All right.”

  He grinned. “We could still make out on the way home, maybe.”

  “We might could. You’ll just have to see. Looks like we’re in the same boat, huh? Pins and needles.”

  Sally showed up with her dinner box and sat with them. Jake had already gone back to his papers. Amy exchanged glances with Michelle. They were more than a little curious, but they knew how to bide their time.

  Sally unwrapped her sandwich and tucked in. “What a health class, huh?”

  “We got a situation,” Michelle said.

  “What did I miss?”

  “Meet me in the bathroom after dinner,” Amy said.

  There, the girls stood in front of the mirror and talked it out. Troy, they decided, was the weak link, Sally his Achilles heel. She worked on him all through gym class. But she couldn’t get it out of him, and now she had to go to the movies with him sometime.

  They just had to wait.

  When the bell rang at three-fifteen, they found Jake outside with Troy.

  Amy tugged at her hair. “So where are we going?”

  “The A & P,” Jake said. “I’m fixin’ to hand this out to everybody coming into the store.”

  He gave her a photocopy of a crudely typewritten sheet. At the top, she read in capitals, THE PLAGUE GENERATION.

  “When did you write this?”

  “Last night. I used the typewriter and copier in the office at Pa’s church.”

  The little fuzzy black letters seemed to crawl across the page. A mess of strikeouts. Jake couldn’t type to save his life. Still, she could see the passion that went into it. The heavy keystrokes. He’d poured his heart out into these words.

  “Well I’ll be,” she said.

  “Brain was wrong about one thing,” he said. “What I’m gonna do ain’t about them. It’s about me, and I’m good with that. It’s about what kind of man I want to be. Sometimes, you got to walk the walk.”

  “You look scared. You sure you ain’t fixin’ to fight again?”

  “I am scared. This is a different kind of fight. The hardest kind. But maybe I can make a point to folks and change their hearts without punching them in the face.”

  “First, you bop Archie Gaines,” Michelle said. “Now this. You are better than a trip to th
e video store. Count me in.”

  “You’re just gonna make them mad,” Amy warned him.

  “If I do, I’ll know it’s working,” Jake said. “People get mad when they think.”

  “I mean really mad. You have to live here with them.”

  “Last I checked, they have to live with me, too.”

  He was so sure of himself she found it both sexy and annoying.

  In the A & P parking lot, he tucked in his shirt, produced a tie from his jeans pocket, and tied it around the collar. He took a deep breath and let it go.

  Troy handed him his stack of flyers at the front of the store before pulling a Mr. Pibb out the vending machine. He popped the cap. “Here comes a customer.”

  A woman pushed her buggy out the store. Amy recognized her as Mrs. Dawkins, a widow who worked for the county and lived alone in the trailer park on the other side of town. A mess of cat food boxes were piled in the buggy.

  Jake handed her a flyer. “Hello, Mrs. Dawkins. Fine day.”

  She inspected the paper. “What’s this about? What are you giving me this for?”

  “The plague children deserve the same opportunities as us.”

  Mrs. Dawkins pursed her lips. “Bless your heart, Jake Coombs.”

  The buggy rattled on toward her car while Jake’s friends laughed. When a Southern woman blessed your heart, she was calling you an idiot.

  “She feeds every stray cat in town,” Michelle said. “If you can’t get Mrs. Dawkins to listen to your cause, you are in trouble, bubba.”

  “This ain’t a movie,” Jake said. “You got to start somewhere. Hello, Mrs. Dickey.”

  The little old raisin of a lady walked up nice and slow, pulling along a cylindrical air tank on wheels. She breathed through her tube and recognized him with a bright smile.

  “Well, hello, Jake,” she wheezed. “God bless you and the fine service you’re doing. I pray for you every day.”

  She handed him a crumpled dollar bill and went into the store. The kids laughed again. Mrs. Dickey thought Jake was collecting for his daddy’s church.

  Jake’s face burned red. “Guess I owe Pa a dollar. Hello, Mrs. Peel.”