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Scars Chapter 8 I wasn’t expecting it. She didn’t seem like the fainting type. I didn’t catch her. She wasn’t on the ground more than a coupla seconds before she opened her eyes and peered up at me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that the strength of your personality can be……overwhelming……” “Yeah, I get that a lot.” She sat up and held her hand out to me. I thought about leaving her there on the ground, getting in my car, and driving away, but I didn’t. I helped her up. So she was a screwball; she was still a woman, and it’s hard to get up off the ground when you’re wearing high heels. At least that’s what I’m told. She didn’t let go of my hand after she was on her feet. She held it with both of hers and shut her eyes. I expected to hear her chant or something. “None of that,” I said, and pulled loose. “No funny stuff.” You could see her pulling herself together. She stood up straight. “Accept my apology,” she said. “I see that it disturbs you. I…..let myself be carried away. I’ll try to restrain myself more in the future.” She looked like a schoolteacher again instead of a nutcase. “Good idea,” I said. “Perhaps you’ll let me make it up to you by preparing you a supper.”
When I didn’t say yes right away, she said, “Please." “I don’t think that would be a smart thing to do. This is a small town. People talk.” “Oh.” She looked down at the ground. “That’s true.” What else did I have to do? And I had to eat somewhere. “I could meet you at Roberta’s in an hour. If you wanna talk to me about Charles.” Her face brightened. “That would be fine. Thank you,” she said. I felt like a heel for wanting to brush her off. I guess it might be a little lonely for a single woman in a new town. “OK. I’ll see you then.” I got in my car and turned the key. “Oh, wait,” she said and ran to the driver’s window before I could back up. “Wait, Mr. White…” I rolled the window down. “Now what?” She pointed at the house. Her face was pink. “My purse. It’s in the house.” I sighed. “I’ll need it,” she said. Her little half-smile was nervous. “My keys are in my purse. If you could just---” Sure. There was nobody at my house when I got there. I didn’t figure Richard would still be there, but it woulda been nice if he woulda locked the door when he left. There was an odd smell in the air. Not bad, exactly……just something different. I took the pillow and blanket he used out to the back room, where the washing machine was. Guys that’re trying to get off the sauce have that stink on ‘em, on their skin; they smell worse than when they’re drinking. Lynn wouldn’t appreciate it if I folded the blanket up and put it back in the closet with that smell in it. Day after tomorrow. Two days to wait, and unless I got some kind of a lead, nothing much to do. The phone rang. “Hello, darling,” she said. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you all day." The hair stood up on the back of my neck. “I thought you could see me.” She laughed. “If I could see you every minute…….imagine that, being able to watch you in your bath. In your bed. With your wife. Mmmm, I’d like that.” Her voice changed, got lower, huskier. “Are you going to bring your wife with you when you come to me?” “No.” “But think of that……think of the things we could do…….” “No. Just you and me.” She sighed. “Never mind. I’ll take care of that part of it. Not long now. I’ll call you tomorrow and tell you where I’ll be. I know you’re impatient…….” I think she was waiting for me to say something, but I couldn’t. “Aren’t you? You are impatient, aren’t you?” After a second, I said, “Yeah. I wanna……I want you to tell me about it.” She was silent. “Tell me what we’re gonna do,” I said. “How it’s gonna be.” “You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? Mmm, me too.” “Come over here, now. Even if the moon’s not right yet, we can still-----” “Are you touching yourself?” she whispered. “I am. But I can’t come tonight. I’ve got to get everything ready. So I can spend tomorrow night with you. Save it for me, sweetheart. We’re going to make the earth shake.” And she hung up. Yeah, I was thinking about it. Sweating. I had a real bad taste in my mouth…..poured myself a slug from the bottle of Scotch in the cupboard, and rinsed my mouth. Spit it out in the kitchen sink, and thought maybe I was gonna lose Arbutus’s coffee, too. Stood for a minute with my hands braced on the sides of the sink, watching the water run….thinking about it…….before I took a deep breath, and went upstairs to change my shirt. Miss R. was already there, waiting for me, when I got to Roberta’s. When I walked past her, she touched my arm. “What’s happened?” she asked. “Nothing.” I sat down and picked up the menu. Not that I had to look at it. I was gonna order the same thing I always ordered in Roberta’s. “Something’s happened. I can tell.” She picked up her menu, too. “But perhaps it’s something that’s not my concern.” “Could be.” “I see.” Miss R. was new in town. “Have you ever eaten here before?” Wouldn’t want her to get food poisoning. “No…..” “Order roast beef.” “I was considering the halibut. I’m fond of fish.” “I wouldn’t.” Even I could see her bristle. Before she decided to tell me she’d order whatever the hell she wanted, I said, “Roberta doesn’t like to waste anything.” She frowned. “Most of us order the roast beef. That way it gets used up faster.” She thought about that for a minute. “So……..it’s fresh.” I nodded. “Arbutus says nobody’s ordered fish here since 1949.” That made her smile. She wasn’t half bad looking when she smiled. “Are you trying to tell me that’s how old the fish would be?” “Maybe.” She giggled. “Why do you eat here, then?” “’Cause it’d hurt Roberta’s feelings if we didn’t.” “Oh.” Her smile went away. She looked down at the menu again. After Roberta’s niece Peggy took our order and picked up the menus, Miss R. said, “Is Mrs. McAfee your aunt?” “Nope.” Dewey Martin walked in just then, and sat down at the counter. He said, “Hey, Bud,” and “Miss Robideaux,” before ordering his cup of coffee. He kept looking out the front window like he was expecting somebody. “Is she your wife’s family?” “Nope.” “Charles calls her Granny; I just assumed she was a relative….” “Nope, just a close friend…..Excuse me a minute.” I got up, walked over to Dewey, and said, real quiet, “How come you’re bringing a gun into Roberta’s?” “What gun?” He wasn’t a very good liar. “The one in the back of your pants. I hope it’s not loaded.” He turned red. “Dammit, Bud. How’d you know that was there?” “The first question is, why’d you bring it in here? Gonna shoot the cook?” He looked uneasy. “The next question is, why’re you hiding it?” “I didn’t wanna scare anybody. Thought it’d be better to keep it, you know, concealed.” “Uh-huh. Well, you go on in the bathroom and take the bullets out of it, and then put it in your pocket, instead a’ in your belt. If you’re not used to pulling a gun outta there, you could hurt yourself. You know?” “But, Bud…..if I take the bullets out of it, it ain’t gonna be any damn use.” “So what’re you gonna use it for?” He looked down at his coffee and got a stubborn look on his face. “Are you arresting me?” “I can’t. Bisbee doesn’t have an ordinance against carrying concealed weapons. I don’t think anybody’s ever done that before.” “OK, then.” “Just be careful with that thing.” “I know all about guns, don’t you worry.” Yeah, right. I could see Miss R. wanted to ask me what I was talking about with Dewey; but she restrained herself. She went on to other things. “Charles thinks a great deal of you, Mr. White. Although some of his remarks are disturbing. I have decided that they are mostly boyish exuberance, still……” “Like what?” “Well, he has said he would like to grow up to be a policeman and shoot people.” I smiled. “I wouldn’t worry about that too much. I bet all little boys think it would be exciting to shoot people; that’s why they play war, and cowboys and Indians.” She frowned. “Have you ever shot anyone, Mr. White?” “Yeah.” She paused; I suppose she expected me to tell her something about it, but I didn’t. “Was it exciting?” “No.” “Maybe you should tell Charles that.” “He wouldn’t believe me. He’ll find out on his own.” She fidgeted with her paper napkin for a few minutes. Then she said, “It’s nice that Charles looks so much like you. Many adopted children find it difficult to fit in families that look very different.” “Well,” I said. “I guess I’d better tell you before Charles does. I wouldn’t want you to accuse him of lying again.” Peggy brought our drinks, and my salad right then. Roberta always gave me a big bowl of coleslaw instead of lettuce. “What will Charles tell me?” “The reason he looks like me. It’s ‘cause he’s mine. Not somebody else’s.” “I don’t understand……” “He’s my son. My blood.” “Oh…..were you married before?” “No.” She looked stunned. “I see.” “I don’t think you’ve been listening to enough gossip.” “One can’t avoid hearing a certain amount, but for the most part gossip is reprehensible.” “It’s how you find out about things.” I started on my coleslaw. Miss R. didn’t have any more questions. She watched me eat. Peggy musta been watching me, too, ‘cause she brought our meals right after I finished the coleslaw. She was a pretty good waitress for a kid. Miss R. had a roast beef sandwich; Roberta gave her some tomatoes and a little cottage cheese on the side. I got the dinner. I was still done first. I sat back, waiting for Miss R. to finish up. She touched her napkin to her lips. “I would like to talk about the woman you keep calling the lunatic.” “I don’t wanna.” Silence. She fidgeted. And then, “I know you’re planning to meet her. Don’t you think it would be wiser to find out as much as you can beforehand?” “I’m not planning on doing anything but arresting her. What do I need to know?” Peggy brought the check. I got some quarters outta my pocket for her tip. “I didn’t mean for you to buy me supper,” Miss R. said. “I actually meant to buy supper for you.” “Don’t worry about it. By the way,” I said. “You were wrong about the moon being right day after tomorrow. It’s gonna be tomorrow night.” Peggy giggled and batted her eyelashes at me while she rang up the check on the cash register. I could see why Roberta wanted to keep an eye on her when she wasn’t in school. She was a cute kid; and not enough sense yet to stay outta trouble. If she’d been living in L.A., somebody woulda knocked some into her by this time; she probably woulda been knocked up. But this was Bisbee, so she was still giggling and flirting with the customers. “You be good, Peggy,” I said. “That’s no fun,” she said, and pouted a little. Not a real pout, a flirty pout; that thing girls do with their lips to let you know something besides what they’re saying. “Do it anyway.” Her giggles followed me outside. Miss R. was waiting by my car. “How do you know it’s tomorrow night?” “Thanks for eating dinner with me. I’m going home now. And you’ve got school tomorrow. Don’t you have papers to grade or something?” “No----I need to talk to you about this! I don’t think you realize what you’re letting yourself in for if you meet with her! If you did, you’d never have let her put that mark on you!” She was getting excited. I opened the car door and motioned for her to get inside. No sense in letting the whole town know what was going on. I got in on my side, and she started talking right away. “Can it!” I said. “Wait till you know what the hell you’re talking about, before you start spouting off. OK?” “So tell me!” “It ain’t any a’ your business. And I guarantee you, you don’t wanna know. Just stay out of it.” “No.” Christ, save me from the do-gooders. Always wanting to help. Never knowing what the fuck is going on. There was probably no way to make her give it up. She was as stubborn as she was screwy. “I didn’t let her do anything to me. I sure as hell ain’t gonna let her do it again. And I ain’t gonna let some snoopy screwball schoolteacher mess this up for me because she can’t keep her nose to herself. Understand?” Miss R. was wide-eyed. She stared at me for a few seconds, then shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “Don’t do it,” she said. “Revenge never accomplishes anything. Don’t kill her. That’s God’s prerogative, not yours.” “I said I was gonna arrest her.” “You don’t have to say it. I can see it. You’re seething with it; on fire with it. I don’t know what she did to you, but killing her won’t make it go away.” “She murders people. Somebody has to stop her. If I have to kill her to stop her, that’s what I’ll do.” “She didn’t murder you. What did she do to you?” She opened her eyes and stared at me again. I couldn’ta told her if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to, so it worked out. Miss R. put her hand on my shoulder. She slid it up to my neck…..then down my back a little way……..then put the other hand on my chest. “Don’t do that,” I said and pushed her hand away. She put it back, only this time both her hands were inside my shirt. I thought I felt her tracing the scars with her finger. I leaned close to her and said, “If you’re interested in car sex, maybe we oughta go someplace besides Main Street.” She didn’t get it for a minute. Looked at me……..then snatched her hands back. Turned really red. “Tell you what. I’ll get Dewey to follow us to your house with your car. You can say what you want till we get there. Then after that, you mind your own business. Keys in the car?” I got out, went inside Roberta’s. Dewey said he’d be glad to do that, right after he finished his piece of pie. I told him I’d wait for him in front of her house. She didn’t say too much till we were about halfway there. “You weren’t serious. You were just trying to shock me.” Her hands were clasped tight in her lap. I didn’t bother to reply. “She expended a great deal of energy on you, you know.” “Yeah? Looked to me like she was enjoying the hell out of it.” “Signs to keep you safe. Signs to call you back to her. Signs purely to brand you as belonging to her. A couple of others.” She shivered. “I don’t understand……” I knew that. “…..you said you didn’t let her do it……but the sign that I saw was…..scars. I can feel the signs on your back, so they must be scars, too. Not painted on. If they’re all that way…..you would have had to be very still for a long time……” No questions that needed answering. “Please. I can sense what the aim of the sigils is, but I could help more if I could see them.” I pulled over to the curb next to her mailbox and shifted into neutral. Put on the brake. “You want me to take off my shirt.” “Yes. Please. And then I won’t bother you again.” “Sure. You take off yours and I’ll take off mine. Maybe we’ll think of something to do.” She hesitated. “All right,” she said, and nodded. I was afraid for a minute she was gonna take me up on it. I ain’t had a bluff called in a long time; but I remember it’s a humbling experience. “I deserved that,” she went on. “I’ve been so concerned about other things, I haven’t been considering your feelings. I’m sorry. And I should have asked you before I touched you.” She didn’t get out of the car. After a minute she said, “You don’t want my help.” “You can’t help me.” She leaned toward me, put her hand on one cheek, kissed me on the other. Opened the door. “I’ll be praying for you, Mr. White.” I watched her walk to her door. I watched until I saw a light come on inside. Seemed like it took Dewey a long time to show up. I told him I’d wait for him; so I sat in the car and waited. Thinking. Always too much time to think.
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