Different Drummers (17 page)

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Authors: Jean Houghton-Beatty

Tags: #Fiction: Romance - Suspense

BOOK: Different Drummers
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Kathleen pulled her chair close to the bed and took her mother-in-law's hand. “It doesn't matter, Beulah. The main thing is you'll get well and be out of here in no time.”

Beulah's fingers closed over hers. Kathleen saw the love in those tear-dimmed eyes, a love Beulah had been waiting for years to give to someone, but there'd been no takers. Kathleen leaned forward and placed a kiss gently on her cheek. “I'll care for you Beulah,” she said. “You have to get well for me, and for Bobby when he comes home.”

“Yeah, I know, and I'm gonna try.”

“Well, now, if this don't beat all,” said the loathsome voice behind her “Ain't it just about the most touchin' scene you ever saw?”

Kathleen stood up abruptly and turned to face Otis and Selma. Selma practically bounced into the seat she'd just vacated.

“Hi, Momma.” There was no trace of concern on her face or in her voice. “How you been doin'? Daddy and me, we've been mighty worried about you.”

Otis stood at the bottom of the bed, his usually burning eyes cold now, as he stared impassively at some unseen thing or presence directly above Beulah's head. He didn't touch his wife or even so much as look at her face.

Kathleen rose from her chair. “I'll go down to the coffee shop while you two have a visit,” she said. For Beulah's sake, she strove to keep the contempt out of her voice. It would have been so easy to let a sneer sneak in. “I'll be back in about twenty minutes.”

When she returned Otis and Selma were nowhere to be seen. “Where've they gone?” she asked Beulah.

“They went home,” Beulah said, reaching for Kathleen's hand. “Now, don't you fret yourself none. It don't matter. They don't care nothin' for me. Never did.”

Kathleen sat down again by the bed. “I'm sure you're wrong about that. It's just harder for some people to show their feelings.”

But Beulah wasn't wrong. If Kathleen had wondered before, she knew for sure today. Otis and his daughter, Selma, didn't give a damn about Beulah.

“Are you thirsty?” she asked.

“Yeah, can you give me just a drop of iced water?”

Kathleen held Beulah's head gently while she drank from the glass.

“I ain't got my glasses. They must've fallen off when I fell. I'm blind as a bat without them.”

“I'll look for them. I can't remember seeing them but they're bound to be in the house somewhere. I'll go by there in the morning and look around.”

* * *

It was close to midnight when she left the hospital. The car's headlights cut through the pitch dark of the South Carolina night. She switched on the car radio and listened as an orchestra played “Auld Lang Syne.” She sang softly along. “Should auld acquaintance be forgot…”

Suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of guilt, she switched her mind to Bob. Where was he this night? Was he attending a makeshift New Year's party with his unit, or was he in the thick of the battle, not even knowing what day it was? Maybe it was just as well she hadn't gone to Atlanta after all. Her life had become too complicated for pipe dreams and what would seeing Ron Velnes have accomplished except to entangle it even more?

And yet, as her car sped along the deserted narrow country roads toward Eddisville, the awful feeling of aloneness racing behind the car caught up. It seeped inside and turned the festive music coming from the radio into a dirge.

Even though New Year's Day was a holiday, Kathleen had hoped she'd be lucky enough to find Otis gone from the house. But there was his car in the driveway with his big Jesus Loves You sign stuck to the back window. She shook off her uneasiness. Selma was probably also in the house so surely Otis wouldn't try anything. It shouldn't take more than a minute or two to pick up Beulah's glasses.

The door was ajar and pushing it cautiously, she stepped inside. The radio blared in the empty room. Maybe Otis and Selma were out back, or visiting a neighbor's house. With luck, Kathleen could find the glasses and be gone before they returned. There was no sign of the glasses in either the living room or kitchen. She went into the hall and looked toward the telephone where Beulah had lost consciousness. She saw them then, under the little telephone table outside Selma's room. Here in the narrow hall, the blare from the radio receded. She passed Otis's closed bedroom door and reached the table. As she knelt to retrieve the glasses, she heard sounds. Her hands grew suddenly clammy and gooseflesh raced over her as she listened to the rhythmic squeaking of the bedsprings, keeping time with the frenzied breathing, the unmistakable grunts.

Terrified to stand for fear of falling against the rickety table and being heard, she stayed where she was. Instinctively, though, she turned her head. From the doorway of Selma's room, she saw the impossible, watched the unbelievable.

The loud gasp that was almost a scream left Kathleen's throat before she could clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle it. Two astonished faces, gleaming with sweat, turned to see her cowering on her knees by the phone.

As electrifying as the scene was, Kathleen scrambled to her feet on legs of straw, knocking the telephone off the small table in her haste to be gone. She was out the door and into the car within the space of a few seconds. Relief shot through her when she saw the key in the ignition and with fingers trembling so badly as to be almost useless, she somehow managed to turn the key and speed away. She could have sworn she took the turn at the end of Bennington on two wheels and for one terrifying minute thought the car would overturn. There was no mistaking the loud screech of her tires. Somehow though, she managed to right herself and drive blindly toward Columbia.

What she had just seen was beyond belief. She had watched her father-in-law having sex with his daughter and Selma was loving every minute of it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Incest!!

Kathleen had witnessed an illicit act between her father-in-law and his daughter and had no idea what in the world she was supposed to do about it. What was the law on this? Selma was over twenty-one and by the look of things, a very willing participant. No, Otis certainly couldn't be accused of raping her. And anyway, who in the world would believe such an outrageous story?

Whom could she tell? Was there anybody at all she could confide in? Not Freddie or the Tates, and certainly not Beulah. She drove slowly to the hospital, fighting every mile of the way for calm, for peace of mind. She stopped at a cafe on the outskirts of Columbia and stayed there at least an hour, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. When she eventually walked into Beulah's hospital room, she had her emotions under control.

Her mother-in-law's eyes lit up at the sight of her. “I been waitin' for you. I'm feelin' better, so much better.”

Kathleen kissed the sunken cheek and did her best imitation of a cheerful smile.

“I found your glasses. Let's put them on. There, now you look more like your old self.” She straightened the odds and ends on Beulah's table. “Have you seen the doctor today?”

“He ain't been in yet. He don't say much when he does come. Just presses my belly till he gets it to hurtin' again. Then he nods and walks out.”

“Sounds just like the doctors in England.” Kathleen grinned and looked closely at her mother-in-law. “You really are feeling better, aren't you. You're even making jokes.”

“Yeah, and I've been lyin' here thinkin'. If I was gonna get sick, I guess this was as good a time as any. What if it had been springtime and my garden had needed tendin'. Who would be there to do it?”

Kathleen fluffed up her pillows. “You'll be well and strong in plenty of time to plant your garden, but you'll need to take things a lot slower.”

She combed Beulah's tangled mass of wiry hair as gently as she could while they talked. “When you get better, and if we can afford it, I'm going to take you to England to meet my family. They'll fall in love with you. And I'll show you an English flower garden, the like of which you've never seen.”

Beulah lay back with an almost contented sigh. “I love it when you tell me about your home,” she said. “I'd give anything if I could see your daddy's flowers and taste some of that bread he bakes. I could get my hair done in Nina's shop and listen to little Dorothy play the piano.”

She looked earnestly at Kathleen. “Do you really think we could go one day?”

Maybe it was a trick of the light over the bed, but Kathleen was sure she could see a sparkle in Beulah's eyes that wasn't there before, and yes, her face did have just a hint of color. “I hope so, Beulah. When you're well, and Bob comes home, maybe the three of us can scrape up enough money to make the trip.”

The easy chatter helped to keep Kathleen's mind off the house on Bennington Street and its terrifying secret.

“I hope Bobby gets home before somethin' bad happens to him,” Beulah said. “Maybe then you two could be startin' a family and givin' me some grandbabies.”

“I don't think it'll be too long before the war's over.” Kathleen was deliberately casual. “Surely it can't last much longer.”

Beulah's words had jolted her. What kind of father would Bob make and what would life be like with a couple of children? When he came home from Korea, would things be the same as they were when he left or was it possible they could lead a normal married life? She pushed her doubts to the back of her mind.

“I don't want you comin' tomorrow night,” Beulah said. “Ain't you already done more than a body could ask for. You got your job to think about and I'm doin' great. Get yourself an early night.”

* * *

The next day was the first day of work in the New Year. After Kathleen had spent half an hour explaining to Lennie and Bernie why she hadn't gone to Atlanta to meet her friend, she buried herself in her work, trying not to think about Ron Velnes leaving today to go back to Montreal.

When she arrived home that evening, she could hear her phone ringing even as she reached the stoop. This had to be one last call from Ron, it just had to be. Suddenly all thumbs, she fumbled frantically with the key in the lock, until she finally opened the door and dashed to the phone. In spite of their last awkward telephone conversation, and her resolution that very morning, she longed to hear Ron Velnes's voice.

“Hello?” Oh please God, let it be Ron.

“Hello, Kathleen.” Otis's detestable voice came down the wire.

“Yes?” That one questioning word was all she was able to utter.

“Are you going to see Beulah tonight?”

“No. She seems a lot better and insisted I not visit. She said I needed an early night.”

“Well then, how'd it be if I stopped by your house for a spell tonight. We need to be talking about Beulah and some other things.” His voice sounded wheedling, cringing.

“No, no, you can't come here,” she blurted out. “I'm, er, well, I'm going out.” Her voice was shaky and he'd be bound to notice but she didn't care. She'd do or say anything, just as long as he didn't come to the house.

“Don't you reckon we need to get together and talk some?” he said.

“What do you want, Otis?”

“Well, I, uhm, it's just that what you saw or what you thought you saw in this house yesterday morning wasn't like it must've seemed to you. And we, Selma and me, well y'know, you ain't thinkin' of tellin' no one about it are you?”

She listened to the desperate voice, with its disjointed sentences, obviously struggling in vain to come up with something plausible. She stared at the wall and saw again the sweating bodies, the tangle of sheets, and knew the sight would stay with her forever. Her mind worked like lightning. Was it conceivable he could harm her? Because she knew his awful secret and because he knew she did, he was probably capable of anything.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” She was surprised at the sudden deadly calm of her own voice, but knew instinctively this was the only way to handle the situation.

“I was in your house looking for Beulah's glasses and I found them. That's all I cared about. And anyway, whatever you do behind your own closed doors is no business of mine.”

Kathleen heard the rasping exhaling of breath. “Well now, that's mighty Christian of you,” Otis said. “Selma and me, we know just how much you think of Beulah and promise we'll be takin' real good care of her when she comes home. Yessir, there ain't no doubt about that. We'll be giving her the best of attention and inviting people to come to see her an' all. We're gonna fix up the place real nice so she'll be comfortable.”

He began to talk faster, babbling almost. “And like you say, anythin' that goes on in a body's home is their own business. Knowin' that you feel like this, I promise you Beulah's gonna be gettin' the best of care.”

A bargain! He was telling her he'd take good care of Beulah so long as she, Kathleen, told no one what she'd seen. She hadn't known she was capable of such loathing for anyone.

“You're right, Otis. Beulah does mean a lot to me and it's good to know she'll be taken care of.”

“Well now, ain't that great. I know she's gonna be wantin' you to come visitin'. So will we be seein' you over here some?”

“Yes, I'm sure Freddie Conroy would be glad to come with me. He thinks a lot of Beulah too.”

She replaced the phone in its cradle, letting her hand rest on the receiver while she stared unseeingly out the window. She and her father-in-law each had a hold over the other. Otis obviously knew his horrible secret was safe with Kathleen as long as he took good care of Beulah. And Kathleen, for her part, knew Beulah would be looked after and she herself would be safe as long as she never breathed a word of what she had seen.

She had just made a bargain with the devil.

* * *

Within two weeks of her surgery, Beulah was well enough to be released from the hospital. It was a Sunday and because Otis would be at church, Kathleen and Freddie went to pick her up. In spite of the doctor's serious prognosis that the cancer might return, Beulah was positively jaunty.

“Ah, what does he know,” she said from the back seat of the car as they drove home. “I got plenty of good years left in me yet.”

Freddie grinned at Kathleen, obviously as thrilled as she was at Beulah's cheerful frame of mind.

“Sometimes doctors can be wrong,” Kathleen said. “They know a lot but they don't know everything. There have been cases…”

“Sure there have,” interrupted Freddie. “We got a woman in the church who more than twenty years ago was given just two years to live. And guess what? Just last week she took her first airplane ride to San Francisco.”

Beulah chuckled. “Is that a fact? Well, I'll be doin' one better than that. I'm gonna get well and strong so I can take my first airplane ride with Kathleen and Bobby. We're all goin' to England to see her family.”

When they arrived at Bennington Street, Kathleen could hardly believe the changes that had been made to the home in so short a time. Beulah's room had been painted baby blue with curtains to match. And painting was well underway in the rest of the house. Half of the living room was now a soft shade of yellow with cans of paint stacked in the corner.

The refrigerator was full of food. There was even a roast in the oven, on low. In this respect at least, it looked as if Otis intended to stick to his end of the bargain.

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