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Choices “I saw that fella today,” Norma said. “From the picnic. That one you took a swing at.” The one I hit. “He was going in the newspaper office.” “Yeah?” “He waved at me.” He waved at everybody. All around town, wherever he went, he waved at everybody he saw. He always walked, didn’t drive; Albert couldn’t come up with a plate. “Just don’t get friendly with him.” Norma bristled. “Why shouldn’t I? If he’s nice?” “He’s not nice. He’s just pretendin’.” “You don’t know anything about him.” “No, but I’m gonna find out.” “What did he do to make you so mad at him?” Couldn’t tell her. Sometimes it seems like we went to an awful lotta trouble to keep a secret that nobody cared about. It woulda made things a lot easier if some of the people closest to us knew what Lynn used to do for a living; people who loved her and would keep on loving her regardless. Lynn always said I didn’t understand. I figured that was possible. It’s one thing being a hooker in LA, Lynn said; it’s a whole other thing in Bisbee. She said the other mothers wouldn’t let their kids play with Charles or Becky, if they knew. Nobody would shop in her shop. She said we wouldn’t get served in restaurants. I didn’t believe it. “Roberta’d serve us.” She shook her head. “If other people thought Roberta was friendly with a whore, they’d stop eating there. She couldn’t serve us; she’d go out of business.” “Are you sure? That’s kinda hard to believe.” “We’d have to move away. You can’t say anything to anybody. Promise me.” I promised. It meant so much to her, probably more than I even understood then, to be like all the other women in town with kids and a house and a yard. You know, the whole works. So it was tough, sometimes, but I kept my promise. Atwater over at the Bugle told me “Bill” just wanted to look in the stacks. Spent hours every day reading the old newspapers. “He ever tell you what he’s looking for?” He shook his head. “I asked him. He said he always knows it when he sees it. I didn’t understand that.” He adjusted his glasses. “So……what’s up? Is he a shady character? Planning on robbing the bank?” He chuckled. I didn’t. “Nah. He’s just making me curious, that’s all. He ever talk about having a job? Mention what he lives on?” “No……That’s suspicious, isn’t it? No visible means of support? Maybe a bank job’s not so far off the mark.” I looked at him. “That’s funny. Just watch what you think up, would ya? For all we know, he could be a Rockefeller.” Lyle looked thunderstruck. “You think so??” “No. I think he’s a bum from outta town. Stop making up stories.” “You’re the one that said he was a Rockefeller.” Jesus. I left before the conversation got any farther outta hand. Saw “Bill” eating at Roberta’s. Took the opportunity to hop it over to Lois’s place, so I could ask her a few questions while she was alone. I thought for a minute she was gonna faint when she opened the door and saw it was me. “Deputy,” she said. “What are you doing here?” Nervous. She poked her head out the door, looked up and down the street. “A few minutes ago he was just digging into a big roast beef dinner, so it’ll be a few more minutes before he comes back here. If that’s what you’re worried about.” She flushed; smoothed her skirt down her thighs while she thought….but didn’t open the door any farther. “Can I come in? Talk to you a little?” Started to shake her head, took a deep breath. Changed her mind. Nodded. “Why not?” Left the door open, turned around and walked away. I followed her. Rory, the damn dog, sat under the bureau and growled at me. I ignored him. “Is he living here with you?” “Are you jealous?” she said without looking at me. “Mrs. Larsen. I’m trying to find out about this guy.” “Do you want a drink, Deputy? I have gin and…..gin.” She touched the bottles on top of the cabinet, picked up a glass. Poured a coupla fingers in, but set it down again. “Mrs. Larsen. Lois. Just tell me something. Did you know him before you came here?” Her shoulders drooped. She shook her head. “No. I didn’t know him. I met him here.” A hundred questions then. I couldn’t ask ‘em all. I was trying to pick one, when she said, “If you’re still here when he gets back, I’ll pay for it.” The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “Has he hurt you?” “Do you see any bruises?” She shook her head. “He doesn’t have to hit me. He knows I’ll do just what he wants. At least for a while.” “Why?” “If I could tell you that……I could tell him to leave me alone, couldn’t I?” “You don’t have to tell me what he has on you. Just tell me there’s something, that he’s blackmailing you, or coercing you, and I’ll take care of it.” She shook her head again. “I know how that works. I’ve heard promises before.” “I keep mine.” “I’m sure you would. Unless he gets something on you.” She took a drink, a sip, and set the glass down again. “Bisbee was my last chance, you know? I thought it was far enough away……I thought I had it made here. Finally.” “Let me help you.” She took my arm, turned me around, walked me to the door. “You better go.” He came to the station again the next day. Walked right into my office. Still smiling, but now I had that figured for what it was. Camouflage. “You were visiting my ladyfriend yesterday.” “Was I?” “I saw you driving away. I don’t like anybody sniffing around something that belongs to me.” Decided I better not get Lois in trouble with him; at least not until I figured what was going on….and what to do about it. “Yeah, I went to see her. She threw me out.” “Yeah? Too bad I didn’t get back a little earlier; I coulda had the fun of throwing you out.” “It ain’t your house.” Silence. The smile went away, and I thought for a second I got to him ….then it came back. “Not yet,” he said. “But you never know.” Every rookie is pretty gung ho. Got a uniform, got a gun, got a partner and a car; gonna go out and kick some ass. Clean up the streets. Bad guys gonna run the other way when they see you coming. I guess I was that way, too, at first. Not too long, probably not as long as some guys, ‘cause my first partner was slime, a two-bit hood using the uniform to stay outta jail. Worked pretty good if you didn’t wanna be anything but a two-bit hood. Anyway, every time I’d manage to make an arrest, and some asswipe lawyer’d get the scum off, it burned me. Bad. It was LeRoy, my slime partner, who clued me in. “What they tell you in cop school,” he said, “that’s just wishful thinking. See,” he said, “you gotta have your own ideas. You know? Think for yourself. This ain’t the fucking army. Figure out what you wanna do.” I took it different than he meant it--but it was still good advice. Figure out what you wanna do….and then do it. What I wanted to do was clean up the garbage. Make ‘em pay. I knew it was one a’ those jobs you never get done with, but that’s what I wanted to do. I didn’t feel like I was doing it in a uniform, especially not riding with Slimeball. Writing traffic tickets and rousting whores just didn’t feel like crimefighting to me. So it wasn’t just ambition that made me wanna be a plainclothes man, or wanting to make something outta myself, or even the raise in pay. It was because I could do more on my own, figure out what needed to be done without somebody looking over my shoulder every second. And I could go after the assholes that the other guys didn’t wanna bother with. I could kick ass. I was across the street when I saw him stop Arbutus and flap his mouth at her. I don’t know what he said. I was driving by, and noticed him talking to her, and then she raised her purse and hit him with it just before I slammed on the brake. He laughed, Arbutus’s purse didn’t have much weight to it; talked some more, and even from across and down the street a little, getting outta my car so I could go help her, I could see her change color. I always worried when Arbutus got mad, she looked kinda like she might bust a blood vessel or something. She let her purse fall, and hit him with the flat of her hand. I heard the smack. He stopped laughing. Talked some more, fast, ‘cause I think he saw me coming; and Arbutus looked around. I coulda laughed myself if it wouldn’ta been so serious; I knew she was looking for something bigger to hit him with. She went inside the five-and-dime. “You saw her hit me,” “Bill” said. “I don’t suppose you’ll do anything about it, but she assaulted me.” “Looked like self-defense to me.” “No wonder you’re here in this one-horse town, you’re worthless.” Arbutus came back out on the street with a baseball bat in one hand. “Now,” she said to “Bill.” “Say that again. I’m ready now.” He started to laugh, then changed his mind. Maybe it was the determined look on Arbutus’s face. He was a smart guy. “You gonna let her threaten me with that?” I shrugged. “I’m worthless, remember?” He cursed at us, good and loud. Inventive; even Arbutus was impressed. “You go on home,” she said when he stopped for a breath. “And stay away from me from now on, ‘cause I’m gonna go back in here and pay for this bat. I’m giving you fair warning.” “Maybe I’ll take it away from you and let you have what-for instead, ya old bitch.” That was bluster, I thought, but I saw red anyway. “You touch her, at all, just touch her, and I’ll kill you.” “Yeah, right,” he sneered, but he turned around and walked away. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. Arbutus sat down on the bench in front of the five-and-dime. I did the same. “Lord,” she said, and took my handkerchief outta my inside jacket pocket, mopped at her forehead. “I’m too old to do that very often.” She waved the handkerchief at her face like a fan. We’d attracted a small audience. Just a few people that happened to be in the vicinity. Ben, from the hardware store, sat down on the other side of Arbutus and asked her if she was OK. Then he laughed. “You’re pretty scary with that bat, you know. Wouldn’t wanna meet up with you in a dark alley.” When he left, he put his hand on my shoulder for a moment; and walked away. She picked up her purse, went in the store and paid for her bat. I walked her back to her car. “So what did he say that made you so mad?” We were walking slow. Arbutus still had my handkerchief, still fanning herself with it. She didn’t answer me right away. “I think I asked you first,” she said finally. Oh. Yeah. “So you’ll understand if I don’t tell you all about it.” Right. I nodded. “I’m sorry.” She stuffed my handkerchief back in my pocket. “It’s OK.” She laid a hand on my cheek, patted it. “Everybody’s got something they don’t wanna talk about.” “It ain’t that I don’t wanna--“ “It’s OK.” I didn’t want her to get in her car and drive away. I can’t explain it, I just had a real bad feeling all of a sudden, you know? Worried about her. Put my arms around her, held her real tight. Didn’t wanna let her go. “Hey,” she said. Her voice was muffled by my coat. I eased up, a little. She put her arms around me, too. “Are you OK? Don’t let this fella get under your skin. He won’t stay long; then everything’ll go back to normal. Don’t worry.” “If he bothers you again, you tell me.” “I can handle him.” “You tell me.” She sighed. “Are we back to the ‘little woman’ business? I can take care of it.” “Arbutus.” “All right, all right. I’ll tell you.” She kissed me on the cheek like she always does, got in her car and drove off. I didn’t want her to go. I wanted to keep her with me, so I could watch out for her, make sure nothing happened to her. Wanted to take care of her. Couldn’t do anything but watch her drive away.
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