Different Drummers (13 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

The man who installed Kathleen's telephone the following week said she was lucky to get on a two-party line as most new customers had to take a four-party.

On Wednesday night, when she knew Otis and Selma were at church, she walked to the house on Bennington Street. Beulah was at the screen door as Kathleen walked up the rickety steps to the porch. Her mind went back to her first day in Eddisville, when she'd stepped out of Freddie's truck and seen her mother-in-law for the first time. Funny how the unbelievable sometimes had a way of becoming the familiar.

“I was hopin' you'd come,” Beulah said, beaming a welcome and joining Kathleen on the porch. “Can you stay awhile?” She brought out her can of snuff and twig, and placed her spit cup at exactly the right angle.

Kathleen sat on the wobbly chair. “Just for a bit,” she said. “I needed the exercise.”

She looked keenly at Beulah, seeing beyond the welcoming smile, past those weary eyes in that lined, leathery face. The shoulders seemed bent, not just from hard work, but as if the load she carried was almost too heavy to bear. Tonight though, there seemed to be something else. As if echoing her thoughts, her mother-in-law let out a slight groan as she shifted position.

“Are you feeling OK, Beulah?”

“I guess so. Just got a bit of a pain here.” She rubbed her abdomen. “I'm over fifty now so don't you reckon I could be goin' through the change?”

“Probably, but it might be a good idea to pay a visit to Dr. Parker. Freddie said he's the best doctor in town.”

“Aw, it ain't nothin'.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but if that pain doesn't ease up in a couple of weeks, I'm making the appointment for you myself. We'll go together.”

She reached across and gently took hold of her mother-in-law's rough, calloused hand. “You might not care much what happens to you, Beulah, but I do. I care very much.”

With great shyness, Beulah took Kathleen's other hand and held on tightly. The tender moment seemed to be too much for Beulah and she bent her head as if trying to hide the emotion showing plainly in her face.

“Y'know, life's funny ain't it.” Her voice softened to a whisper. “When you got out of Freddie's truck that day, I don't mind tellin' you I thought you was mighty strange and I couldn't understand a word you said.” She gave a little gentle laugh. “But I'm used to you now. Seems like my own young'uns ain't caused me nothing but trouble. But you, you ain't even kin and I guess I can count on you more than anybody I know.”

“You bet you can,” Kathleen said, feeling a warm glow at the unexpected words. “And don't you be worrying about Bob anymore. He's going to be fine. Things are bound to get better, you'll see.”

Kathleen stayed another twenty minutes, and then stood up to go. She hadn't allowed enough time for the visit and the last thing she wanted was for Otis and Selma to return while she was there.

Beulah picked up the cardboard box by the door. “Here's some tomatoes and cucumbers for you. They're out of my garden. Give Belle Tate some of them. I couldn't see none growin' when we were over at your place that night.”

“Goodnight Beulah, and thanks,” Kathleen said, already thinking of the tomato sandwich she'd fix when she arrived home. She was already finding out what nearly every person born in the South already knew. Home-grown tomatoes were a hundred times better than the store-bought ones.

* * *

Two days later, Bob telephoned.

“Hey, Baby. I just called Momma and she told me you had a phone.”

“Bob, where are you?” He'd caught her off guard and her voice came out stilted and strange.

“I'm still here in Texas. I had to call to tell you I'm as sorry as I can be that I ran out on you. I knew darn good and well you were gonna find out about me, and, well, I couldn't stand it no longer. I didn't know how to tell you old man Phillips fired me and it looked like everything was going up in smoke right in front of me. I didn't know what else to do except to reenlist.”

He paused, as if waiting for her to say something. “I'll bet you're good and mad about all of this ain't you?”

What was she supposed to say? She could feel her anger dissipating as he talked and being replaced by a deep pity for him and sorrow for them both. She pushed her fingers through her hair and repressed a sigh.

“I'm not mad, Bob. Not anymore. I think I understand now why you did it but hate the fact you deceived me.”

“Yeah, well, I was gonna try and set things right. I thought if I reenlisted, the army would be good for us. It's a good living and you wouldn't even have to go out to work. I was hopin' you could've come to Texas, but I just found out I'm flyin' out of here in a couple of days. I got my orders this morning. I'm bein' sent to Korea.”

“Korea.” She could only say that one word.

“Kathleen? Are you there?”

“Yes, I'm here. I don't know what to say. I know you wanted to go to Korea instead of England. It looks as if you've finally got your wish.”

“Yeah, well, things are different now. I didn't have you then. I guess what I'm tryin' to say is I know I've let you down real bad, but I thought if I told you the truth about me, you never would've married me.”

His voice sounded hoarse, charged with emotion.

“Them times I went out and left you by yourself. Well, I didn't want you asking no questions. Things are gonna get better though. I'm gonna start taking classes. Even in Korea there're places where you can learn.”

She didn't miss the catch in his voice.

“This is my fault isn't it?” she said. “I mean that you reenlisted. You were so happy to be home again. You could have found something that suited you, if it hadn't been for me. But you should have leveled with me, Bob. We could have handled it together.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“Keep in touch with me, Bob, even if it's only a line or two. Get a camera. Send me some pictures.”

“Yeah, I'll do that. I'm arranging for my paycheck to be sent to you. Maybe you can save some of it, but I don't want you going without nothin'. What with the money from your job and all, this should be a gracious plenty.”

Kathleen's head reeled, and she leaned against the wall to steady herself. How could he be so nice over the phone and yet so unfeeling, callous even, when he was with her.

“A guy from Columbia is lookin' for a ride home,” Bob said. “I told him he could drive my car to Eddisville, and then you and Freddie could maybe take him to Columbia. This way we'll get the car home. Freddie can learn you to drive and at least you'll have a means of getting around. If you have the car maybe you'll wait for me and not go runnin' back to your family.”

“You needn't worry about me. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Well, I sorta knew you'd want to stay. There ain't nothing in England for you anyway.” She didn't answer as she struggled to ignore the stab of anger slicing through her.

“Go and see the family when you can,” Bob said. “They think a lot of you, I can tell.”

“Yes, I will.”

“I know I ain't much good at words, so I ain't gonna even try. Take care of yourself.”

“You do the same. And don't try to play the hero over there, Bob. Just come back safe and sound.”

There was a pause and Kathleen could hear voices other than Bob's on the other end of the line.

“I guess I'm gonna have to go. There's a line of guys standing here waitin' to use the phone, and they're all yellin' at me sayin' my time's up. I'll be leavin' the day after tomorrow. I'll try to call you tomorrow night at seven.”

“I'll be waiting for your call. Good night, Bob. Take care.”

“Goodnight, Baby.”

* * *

On Friday morning, Bernie Beauchamp stood with hands on her hips and stared down at Kathleen. “You look awful,” she said with a shake of her head. “Don't tell me. Bob didn't call last night, did he?”

“He said he'd ring around seven but he didn't. I couldn't sleep for thinking about it. I know he'd have called if he could. He's probably already in Korea by now.”

Bernie poured herself a cup of coffee. “If I were you, I'd write him off. I was married once. He was a deadbeat too, and the best day of my life was when he took the afternoon bus out of here. You married this guy, this hick, and came three thousand miles to be with him. And what does he do for you? He ups and goes back into the army. Now he's further away than ever.”

She shrugged as she added two spoonfuls of sugar to her coffee. “Still it isn't any of my business.”

Kathleen longed to tell her she was right, it wasn't any of her business, but with her self-control in check, she only smiled. When the woman had gone, Kathleen stared down at her typewriter keys.

It isn't fair, it isn't fair, she wanted to scream. She felt betrayed and, well yes, trapped.

She could hear her sister Nina's voice whispering, “I told you so, I told you so.” After all, when she was totally honest with herself, hadn't it been her insatiable longing to see America that was the real reason she'd boarded the SS Belgravia that fateful day? The handsome American soldier named Bob Conroy had been the icing on the cake. Ever since Bob's phone call, she'd been filled with more than a small amount of guilt and knew now she'd have to stay in Eddisville to wait for him, no matter how long he was gone. And anyway, things would be different when he came home. Hadn't he said he'd take classes whenever and wherever he could? He could probably get a decent job and they'd be able to start a family. But Bob had gone to fight in Korea. The government called it a Police Action, yet it was a war, just like any other. What if he didn't make it home? What if he was wounded or even killed? What would she do then?

Kathleen typed a long letter to her family and told them her biggest lie to date. Bob had rejoined the army for her sake, she wrote, hoping he'd be stationed again in England. But the unthinkable had happened. He'd been sent to Korea instead. She begged them not to worry about her because she'd already made lots of friends. She made Freddie sound like a saint which wasn't all that far from the truth. She wrote that all the people on the staff of the
Gazette
were wonderful, which was almost true too, except maybe for the cynical, outspoken Bernie. But even she could be tolerated on a reasonably good day. Her mother-in-law was really having a time of it, Kathleen wrote. Her broken arm was mending but she didn't have a lot of feeling in her hand and it made holding a pen difficult. Because of this it might be just as well if her Mother didn't write to the poor woman as she felt guilty enough for not replying to other letters sent. She sent her apologies and was so outdone because the broken arm was causing all sorts of inconveniences. For instance, she hadn't attended a single meeting at her garden club since she'd had her accident.

* * *

The following Saturday, an army corporal drove the red Studebaker into the driveway and an hour later, with Freddie at the wheel and Kathleen beside him, the car was headed toward Columbia. A very tired soldier sat in the back seat. When they arrived on the outskirts of the city, Freddie had to shake him awake to get directions to his house.

Kathleen's first driving lesson started on the way back to Eddisville. Freddie let her drive the car for the last twenty-five miles and because it was automatic drive, with no clutch to worry about, Kathleen managed it easily. Besides, Freddie was a very patient teacher.

He grinned as Kathleen pulled carefully into her driveway.

“You catch on real fast. Why don't you go ahead and make an appointment for your driver's license.”

“You mean I'm already that good?”

“Sure you are. You've just driven twenty-five miles without one mistake. I told you there ain't nothing to it.”

“I wonder how Bob managed it,” she said.

“He probably memorized the signs and everybody knows what red and green mean on the traffic lights. There's a lot of people who can't read or write and most of them are drivin' cars.” Freddie was matter of fact. “I know a guy who drives a big delivery truck and you wouldn't believe what all he can do. His boss writes down the names of the streets and he looks for them, matchin' them up but not really reading them. The house numbers are on each package and the guy knows what goes where.”

Kathleen switched off the ignition. “I suppose it wouldn't be so hard once you got the hang of it, but what about a driving test. Don't you have to be able to read to pass that?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Don't guess Bobby ever bothered with a license though.”

Freddie ran his hand along the dashboard. “This sure is a nice car. I wish I had something like this instead of my old rattletrap of a pickup.”

* * *

Kathleen passed her driving test the following month, and suddenly life didn't seem so bad. She had a good job and a charming little house right next door to the Tates. And wasn't she making friends everywhere? Even though she'd never considered herself a good Catholic, sometimes she longed to talk to a priest. One of these days, she promised herself, she'd find a Catholic church in Columbia and go to confession. In the meantime, she began attending services at St. Peter's Episcopal Church. After a few weeks she began to look forward to Sundays when she would join Bernie Beauchamp and Patsy Ashcraft on the fifth row from the front.

As she drove home from church one Sunday in late September, the familiar “Deep Purple” came softly from the radio. She turned up the volume and hummed along with the singer, the poignant words bringing with them the memory of Ron Velnes. The remembrance was so strong, it was as if he sat beside her in the car. She turned to look into his smiling eyes, crinkled in the corners, looking at her in that special way. This had been one of their songs and as it ended, she wished the man on the radio would play it again.