Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (36 page)

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BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]
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* * *
At the moment the car passed the Henry farm, Tom was crossing the field with Emmajean’s hand firmly in his. He had let her stay in her “playhouse,” until he finished the outdoor chores and dug a row of potatoes. After boiling some of them and making a pan of corn bread, he went to bring her home and to coax her to eat. She was terribly thin. Her cheek- and jawbones were prominent, and her eyes appeared large and sunken. He planned to take her to town to see Doctor Hendricks if she was in a docile mood.
They were coming into the yard behind the house when the car turned in and stopped beside the well. Marty Conroy got out and waited for them to come to him. Instead, Tom headed for the porch and gently pushed Emmajean into a chair.
“Who is it?” she demanded shrilly. “Am I going in the car? What’s his name?” She jumped up. “I’ll put on my pink dress.”
“Wait a minute.” Tom took her arm and seated her again.
Marty came to the steps leading to the porch. He took off his hat and wiped his face with a white handkerchief.
“Hello, Emmajean, Tom. Christ, but it’s hot up here.”
“My name’s Emmajean. What’s yours?”
Startled, Marty frowned first at his sister and then at Tom.
“My name’s Emmajean,” she repeated. “What’s yours? Want me to take off my dress?”
“No,” Marty said quickly. Then under his breath, “What the hell—!”
“Are you going to take me in the car? I’ll take off my dress.” Emmajean reached out and tried to take Marty’s hand, but he backed away.
“Emmajean, I’m Marty, your brother.”
“That’s nice.” She jumped to her feet before Tom could press her down and reached for the hem of her dress. She had pulled it up to her thighs before he stopped her.
“Don’t do it now,” Tom said gently. “You can take it off later.”
“When?”
“Later. After you eat.”
“I don’t wanna eat.”
Before Tom could grab her, she jumped off the porch and went running toward the car. He ran after her and caught her hand as she was opening the car door.
“You can’t go anywhere until you eat.”
“Get away! Get away!” she shrieked, and tried to pull away from him. Failing that, she spit at him. As he pulled her along with him toward the porch, she continued to shriek, calling him every foul name she had ever heard. At the steps, he took hold of her shoulders and gently shook her.
“Emmajean. Emmajean.” He kept repeating her name until she looked at him. “Go in the house and wash your face. Put on your pink dress and make yourself pretty. Tie a ribbon in your hair.”
“Tie a ribbon?”
“Yes. Make yourself real pretty.”
“All right.” She smiled at him, then smiled at Marty when she stepped up onto the porch. “I’m going to a party.”
“Good grief,” Marty said, when his sister had gone into the house. “How long has she been like this?”
“This is the best day she’s had in weeks,” Tom said drily. “She’s been getting steadily worse since the day at the air show.”
“Does she ever make sense?”
“Not for the past week or two. I was hoping to take her in to see Doctor Hendricks today. I can’t keep her here much longer. Tell Emmajean’s daddy that he should come see her. I won’t attempt to take her down to Conroy by myself. She might jump out of the car.”
Marty’s thoughts raced.
Was it possible that Tom hadn’t heard that their daddy was dead?
“You want . . . Daddy to come here?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Why do you want him to see her?”
“For Christ’s sake! Isn’t it obvious?” Tom retorted heatedly. “She’s got to be put someplace where she’s not a danger to herself or to anyone else. I have to watch her constantly. The neighbors helped me with my crop, they’re looking after my livestock and my son. I can’t continue to impose on them while I watch over Emmajean. Her family should take some responsibility. They knew that she was unstable when they married her off to me.”
“I’ll . . . tell him.” Marty looked away from him. “Where do you want to put her?”
“I’ll talk to Doctor Hendricks. It’ll have to be a state instutition. I can’t afford a private one. If he can’t get her in some place soon, he may have some pills or something that will calm her down and make her eat. She’s starving herself.”
“Where’s the boy?”
“With friends. Why?”
“Did she get worse after you took the boy away from her?”
“She almost killed him.” Tom said irritably. “I had to get him away from her. She asked about him only one time. She has no motherly instincts. Never has had. She hates him.”
“I’ll talk to . . . Daddy. He and Mother talked about taking the boy—”
“Get that idea out of your head,” Tom said quickly. “He’s my son. He stays with me.”
“I’ll talk to . . . I’ll see what I can do. Don’t do anything until you hear from me.”
“I’ll wait a few days and that’s all.”
“I see your problem, Tom. You’ll be hearing from me.”
Marty could hardly wait to leave so that he could think. He backed up the car and took off down the road in a cloud of dust.
“Goddamn!” he cursed, and pounded the steering wheel with his fist.
He’d not stand by and see two thousand five hundred dollars a year being wasted on that lunatic. She’d never had enough brains to pound sand down a rathole, and now she was plain
crazy
!
Godamighty!
Suddenly he began to laugh at the thought of Tom bringing her to Conroy and dumping her off.
Dear Mother would faint dead away if she saw her.
If so much money wasn’t at stake, he would have encouraged him to do it just to see the look on his mother’s face.
Marty slowed the car. He had to do some careful thinking about what was the best to do. It wouldn’t do to have Emmajean commited to a state hospital unless it was far away. One or two of the trustees had connections in Oklahoma. How could he explain that he hadn’t told his sister or her husband about his daddy’s death and about the will?
Right now he could deny that he had been to the farm and swear that he hadn’t known his sister was in such bad shape. Hell, it would be his word against Tom’s, and who would believe him over a Conroy?
He had been shocked to see Emmajean. She was the picture of a woman who was starving to death. If he could put Tom off for a few weeks, maybe the bitch would die and solve all his problems. It wasn’t fair that the money that should come to him would go to pay for the keep of that crazy woman.
Marty turned off before he reached Red Rock and headed home to Conroy. Evidently word had not reached this part of the country about his daddy’s being gone and his being the Conroy now. Marty thought that he’d just as soon keep it that way for the time being. He’d wanted to stop at Walter Harrison’s office, show off his new automobile, and let him know that he no longer had to work.
“Bastard,” Marty gritted. Harrison had lorded it over him for weeks. There was plenty of time to put Harrison in his place. He had more important things to think about at the present—like two thousand five hundred dollars a year.
* * *
Tom sat on the back steps and watched the sun disappear in the western sky. He thought about how Marty had refused to look at him when he promised to take the message to Mr. Conroy about Emmajean’s condition. The little weasel would probably take off for Dallas or Oklahoma City in his fancy new car and never deliver the message.
What had started out to be one of Emmajean’s best days had turned out to be one of the worst. He had hoped that when she went into the house, she would forget about Marty’s being there. Not so.
She had come out, however, as Marty was backing out of the yard and had tried to run after him. Tom had to hold her by force and carry her kicking and screaming back into the house. She fought until her strength gave out. Exhausted, she lay on the bed and cried herself to sleep. When reasonably sure that he could safely leave her, Tom had crossed the field to where Johnny and Grant were cutting hay and had asked if one of them would take a message to Doctor Hendricks.
Johnny had gone immediately and returned with the message that Doctor Hendricks had taken a patient to the hospital in Wichita Falls and wouldn’t be back until late. His wife had sent word that he would come out in the morning.
Deep in his thoughts, Tom failed to notice the horse and rider coming down the fence line from the direction of the Henry farm until they were quite near. He recognized Johnny’s pony. Perched in front of Johnny was his son, Jay. A pleased smile spread across Tom’s face as he hurried out to meet them.
“Daddy! Daddy! Looky me. I ridin’.”
“You sure are.” Tom took his son from the saddle and held him tightly in his arms. Jay wound his arms about his father’s neck and clung. “I’ve missed you, boy.”
“I Daddy’s big boy.”
“You sure are,” Tom said again. It seemed to be all he could say.
“Henry Ann told me to bring him over. It’s been a while since he’s seen you.”
“Five days. I count every hour of them.”
“Aunt Dozie sent you a jar of dumplings and some fried peach pies.” Johnny stepped down and unhooked a sack from the saddle horn.
“Bless Aunt Dozie.”
“Henry Ann made me wait till it cooled down some before I brought him over.” Johnny hung the sack over a fence post.
Tom sat on a stump with Jay on his lap.
“Johnny make me a swing.”
“Do you swing high?”
“Johnny swing me high. Hen-Ann ’fraid I fall. But I won’t fall. I big.”
“You’ll hold on tight when you swing, won’t you?”
“Johnny say, hold tight, cowboy.” Jay giggled and pointed his chubby finger at Johnny.
“What else have you been doing?”
The child tilted his head and tightened his lips as he thought. Then he blurted: “I break beans with Aunt Dozie.”
“You’re learning how to do a lot of things.”
“I big boy.”
The time passed swiftly and when it was time to go, Tom placed Jay in front of Johnny on the horse.
“’Bye, son. I’ll be over to see you soon. Thank you for bringing him over, Johnny.”
“Yeah. We been riding around the yard a little. Henry Ann knew that you’d want to see him.” Johnny’s dark eyes noticed Tom’s alert expression when Henry Ann’s name was mentioned. Both he and Grant had noticed that when Tom came to the farm he watched her every move.
The man was crazy in love with her.
What a mess for a decent guy like Tom to be in.
“Be good, Jay. Mind Henry Ann.”
“I love Hen-Ann.”
So do I, son. So do I.
“I’m glad. I’ll be over to see you soon.”
As he watched his son leave the home that was no longer safe for him, Tom’s dark eyes were unnaturally bright.
* * *
Doctor Hendricks came as Tom was staking his cow out alongside the road in front of the house so that she could crop the grass. He had no more than got out of the car when Emmajean bounced up off the chair on the porch where Tom had placed her and ran toward him.
“Hello, man. What’s your name? Do you want me to take off my dress?”
Tom reached her and placed his hand on her shoulder. He had made sure that she was dressed this morning, but she had refused, like a balky child, to wash her face, which she smeared with another application of rouge and lipstick.
“Morning, Doc. Thank you for coming.”
Doc nodded. Then turned his attention to Emmajean. “How are you, Mrs. Dolan?”
“Want to see my titties?” Tom stilled her hands when she started to open the bodice of her dress.
“No, Emmajean. Don’t do that.”
“Want to see my titties?” she asked again.
“Later. You can show them later.”
“I’m goin’ to a party!” She swung. Her fist landed on Tom cheek.
“Cut it out,” he said gently, and grabbed her wrist. “Let’s go to the porch and sit down.”
“No!”
“Go on, Doc. She’ll come.”
Doctor Hendricks went to the porch and Emmajean followed. He sat down in a chair. She tried to sit on his lap, but he gently maneuvered her into a chair.
“Can we talk, Tom?”
“She’s getting steadily worse, Doc. This morning she didn’t know her name. I think that whatever we say will go right over her head. I need advice, Doc. And . . . help.”
“I’ve not been trained to treat dementia.”
“What the hell is that?”
“A sick mind.”
“But you know enough to know that . . . there’s a problem here.”
“Absolutely. Is her behavior erratic?”

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