Hell With the Lid Blown Off (7 page)

“Do they pay mind to Jubal like they did their daddy?”

“Well, they do. Somehow he manages to keep a lid on their shenanigans, though I don't expect they like it much. Especially the second one, Hosea. Them two always butted heads since they was little. I don't know why Hosea hasn't took himself off a long time ago. I guess working for Jubal is easier than having to find a real job of work. Not that any of them confide in me, don't you know.”

Alafair looked down at her plate to hide her expression as Mildrey described her problematic sons. She hated to think how it would feel to be the mother of a bunch of bullies.

Mildrey seemed to read her mind. “Well, D.J. was always mighty rough with the boys. As soon as they started coming along, D.J. decided that it was his duty to make men out of them. He made them fight one another to settle their differences. He wouldn't let them stop whaling at each other until he seen blood or one of them was too beat up to go on. There was never any giving up or making peace. So I reckon I can't blame them much for being like they are. Now, Jubal, he don't enjoy violence like the others. Even so, when he got big enough, he hauled off and whopped his daddy and that was that. I think D.J. was proud of him for standing up for himself. After that it was like Jubal was D.J.'s deputy, and the other boys were the outlaws.”

Well, that explains a lot
, Alafair thought. As far as the Beldon boys were concerned, Jubal had taken his father's place as the new sheriff in town.

“So where are your boys now?” Alafair asked. “I didn't see any of them at church.”

“They ain't very churchy. Jubal brought me and Lovelle in. Said he'd be back this afternoon to carry us home. I left the rest of them abed this morning.”

Wallace MacKenzie

The conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion among the congregation gathered under the trees. It sounded like laughter and good-natured whooping. Alafair stood up to get a better look. “What in the world?”

Ruth and Beckie MacKenzie had left the hall and were threading their way through the crowd, followed close by a dark, good-looking fellow whom Alafair didn't know. Ruth had noticed her mother standing under the hickory tree and was steering her companions toward them just as the crowd parted, and Alafair caught sight of a man with yellow hair, dressed in the most outlandish garb she had ever seen: kilt, blue bonnet, purse, tall socks, red ribbons, and all. She had never heard such hooting and hollering. A dozen men blocked his way, slapping his back and making bad jokes, but he took it in stride with a big smile, and gave as good as he got. He was still grinning when he made his way over to the women.

“I do declare!” Alafair exclaimed, and began to laugh. She turned to share the joke with Mildrey Beldon, but she had disappeared. Martha and Josie joined the knot of gawkers next to Alafair.

Ruth made the introductions. “Mama, you remember Wallace MacKenzie.”

Alafair didn't, really. Or maybe she just didn't immediately recognize the elegant man with the floppy blond hair who was bowing over her hand. The last time she had seen Wallace he was an irritating and rather sneaky fifteen-year-old. “Sure, I do,” she said.

Josie wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “I heard you were home, Wallace. You're dressed as fancy as the King of Diamonds, son! Whatever are you supposed to be?”

Beckie was surprised. “Why, Josie, this is the very regimental dress uniform that my father brought with him when he came to South Carolina back in the fifties. Wallace is wearing his great-grandda's kilt this afternoon just to please me, the dear bairn.” She looked proud enough to bust.

Ruth leaned in and took her mother's hand. “Wallace is wearing the outfit Miz Beckie showed us when we had dinner at her house,” she reminded her. “I told you about it, Mama.”

From the wicked grin on Wallace's face, Alafair thought that he was more likely wearing the outfit because he enjoyed making a spectacle of himself. He winked at her, confirming her suspicions. “Anything to please Gran,” he said.

Ruth pushed forward the more soberly dressed, dark-haired youth who had arrived with them. “And this is Wallace's friend from Vanderbilt, Randal Wakefield.”

Dark-eyed Randal smiled and squeezed her hand gently. His quiet manner made Alafair look at him with a great deal more interest than she did the ebullient Wallace.

Ruth Tucker

The shadows were lengthening when the final prayer meeting in the Masonic Hall came to an end, and families were gathering themselves together, preparing for the trip home at the end of a satisfying day of fellowship. Ruth stood up from the piano and cast her gaze around the auditorium for a face she recognized.

Her parents were nowhere to be seen. She could just see the heads of her brothers topping the crowd in the far corner, Gee Dub's black curls and Charlie's straight dark-blond, both leaning in toward a copper-gold redhead on their own level. Nobody but Trenton Calder had hair the color of a brazen sunset. She smiled and started toward them, almost shifting course when she caught sight of Beckie. At the last instant she noticed that Wallace was standing with his grandmother, and she managed to veer back into the crowd without being seen. She ran right into Jubal Beldon.

A word occurred to her that would never have passed her lips. When did he show up? He must have come to take his mother and sister home after the service. Jubal gave a brief grin that revealed just a glimpse of crooked teeth. “Well, howdy, Ruth Tucker,” he said. “We meet again.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that it was no pleasure, but Beckie's advice about feigning disinterest popped into her head. She made an effort to move on without looking him in the eye, but Jubal wasn't so easily put off. He seized her arm. “You handled yourself good out there on the road the other day. I like a brave gal. How about stepping outside with me for a nip of something more refreshing than lemonade and we'll talk about it?”

Later, when she was pondering what better reaction she could have had, she realized that her sister Martha would have frozen Jubal to the ground with a glare, Mary would have laughed in his face, Alice would have spit in his eye, and Phoebe would have faded into the crowd like mist. But this was the trouble with being a well-bred and rather inexperienced girl. Her first instinct was to be polite. After all, it had been Jubal who had put an end to his brothers' devilment on the road earlier that week. He couldn't be as bad as all that.

“No, thank you, Jubal,” she said. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to meet my brothers.”

She started to walk away but to her surprise he didn't release her arm. Her forehead furrowed, and she looked up at him. Another glimpse of those snaggle teeth. “Oh, I think you will.” She was too surprised to resist when he hauled her by the elbow a few feet, through a bunch of chatting matrons into the relative privacy of a corner. She gathered her wits enough to shake his hand off of her.

“What are you doing?” she managed. “I said I don't want to…”

Jubal took a step toward her and Ruth took a step back. The wall halted her retreat. She looked away, but Jubal leaned in so close that Ruth could feel his breath on her cheek.

“You'd better be nice to me, Missy.” His voice insinuated itself into her ear. He drew back enough for Ruth to sidle out of his way, but he grabbed her arm again before she could escape. “I could ruin your reputation real easy. Folks love to spread gossip. It don't even have to be true.”

“Is this lowlife bothering you, Ruth?”

She whirled around to face Wallace, who was standing so close to her that she nearly bumped her nose on his chest. She didn't know whether to be relieved or dismayed.

Well, better the devil you know… “Yes, Wallace, thank you.” Her voice was breathy. “I think I've had enough of this conversation so if y'all will excuse me.”

Neither man moved and she found herself caught between them. She suddenly knew how a doe felt caught between two stags in rut.

“Mind your own business, fancy pants,” Jubal growled. “Or should I say fancy no-pants? What kind of gimcrack are you supposed to be?”

“How would you like a punch in the eye, Jubal, just on general principle?”

People in their vicinity began to take notice of Jubal Beldon and Wallace in his silly outfit standing nose to nose and squeezing Ruth in the middle like a piece of cheese in a sandwich.

“Where's your girlfriend, MacKenzie?” Jubal was saying.

Ruth didn't understand. Was he referring to her? “I'm not his girlfriend,” she said, and Jubal smiled his unpleasant smile without looking at her.

Wallace struck a boxer's pose. “Put up your dukes, Beldon!”

That was the last straw. Ruth felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she wrenched herself free just as Preacher Bennet and a couple of other men stepped in.

“None of that, boys,” Mr. Bennet said as Ruth made her escape into the crowd. “This is a church meeting, and I'll have no brawling.”

Shaw Tucker

After they had their fill of making sport of Wallace, Shaw and various other male members of the congregation returned to the business at hand: whether or not the United States would get into the European war. Only weeks earlier Congress had nationalized all the state militias and renamed them the National Guard, then immediately mobilized the Oklahoma organization for duty on the Mexican border. Several families had sons and fathers in Texas at that moment, and no one was happy about it.

Why nationalize the militias? Did this mean that war was imminent? But at the Democratic Presidential Convention last week Mr. Wilson had promised to keep us out of war. The Republican nominee, Mr. Hughes, said Wilson's policies made war more likely…

The almost-donnybrook between Jubal Beldon and Wallace MacKenzie interrupted the lively conversation.

At first, Shaw was alarmed to see his daughter Ruth caught between the combatants, but she extricated herself quickly and made away into the crowd. Shaw laughed as Jubal and Wallace circled one another. “Looks like Wallace's getup is causing him some grief.”

His brother James Tucker was just as amused. “Aw, that boy always did hanker to be the center of attention. He'd be disappointed if somebody didn't kick up a row over him.”

Shaw voiced his disapproval. “Leave it to Jubal Beldon to turn merriment into a big shindy.”

His neighbor, Mr. Eichelberger, narrowed his eyes. “That fellow is mean as cat meat. I hate him.”

Eichelberger's tone was so venomous that the joking ceased and his companions glanced at one another in surprise. The Tuckers and Eichelbergers had lived down the road from one another for nearly twenty-five years, since Shaw had first moved his family onto his homestead. The happy, energetic, little farmer had helped him build his house, and Mrs. Eichelberger was indispensable help to Alafair when the children were babies. Shaw loved the Eichelbergers like his own aunts and uncles. He had never known Mr. Eichelberger to say a bad word about anyone. Until now.

“Jubal is always on the shoot, it's true,” Shaw ventured. “Has he been grieving you, Mr. Eichelberger?”

The question gave Eichelberger pause. He blinked at Shaw before responding. “Never mind, son. He's just mean, is all. He's the kind who'd pull the wings off flies.”

Shaw's brother-in-law Jack Cecil shook his head. “I don't know. He's good to animals. Once I saw Jubal bust a guy's nose for mistreating his horse.”

Eichelberger's face reddened. “Well, he's the kind who'd pull the arms off people, then. I wouldn't be broke up if young MacKenzie mashed in his ugly face.”

James took the opportunity to lighten the mood. “How would you tell the difference?”

Trenton Calder

That old Jubal Beldon was a piece of work, all right. Me and Gee Dub and Charlie were standing over by the door. We fellows had been talking about going outside for a smoke, joking about how far away from the hall we'd have to walk to make sure our mothers never got wind of it. That's when Ruth came up to us, white as a sheet, and said that Beldon had been rude to her. But she didn't let on about his threats. Not right then, anyway.

Charlie didn't take it very serious, but Gee Dub got real quiet. He never had much use for any of them Beldons in the first place, and besides, him and Ruth were kind of close, them being the two exact middle kids in that pack of ten. Her tale upset me, too, a lot more than it would have two weeks earlier.

See, she was too good-hearted to realize that you've got to stomp on that kind of guy's foot to get him to leave you alone, or do something else about that plain. I offered to rearrange Jubal's face for him, and I was serious, too. For some reason she laughed. I was affronted, at least until I saw that my offer had made her feel better.

Gee Dub was perched to take action, too; take her home, or give Beldon what for, or tell their daddy about it. Ruth said she was sorry she had told us if it was going to stir up our manly instincts so. Charlie got impatient and wandered off to find somebody else to talk to about the war, so I asked Ruth if she'd like to dance.

Durn if she didn't laugh again and say that if we went to dancing and the preacher Mr. Bennet saw us, we were like to get drummed right out of the First Christian Church of Boynton. Besides, since she was the piano player for the evening, it would be mighty hard for her to make the music and dance to it at the same time. So we went off to get something to eat.

Gee Dub stayed where he was, and when I looked back over my shoulder at him he was watching us with one eyebrow raised and a quirk of a smile on his face. For some reason that made me want to make sure my drawers were hitched up and my hat was on straight.

Ruth was in a better mind after that, but I caught her throwing the odd nervous glance Jubal Beldon's way. If he glanced back at her, I didn't notice it.