It's Not Like I Knew Her (26 page)

Jodie stepped around the bar, helped herself to another Blue Ribbon, and placed a pencil mark on the tally pad next to her name. She retook her seat and sat with her hands wrapped around the icy bottle, considering all that hadn't passed between her and Gabby. The fact she was here, was that in itself proof enough?

The loud, playful bantering of the others, their whispered promises, and the heat rising from their bodies, steadied her. Her pulse rate leveled out, and the beer had begun to dull her raw edges. She wouldn't borrow trouble. It arrived often enough of its own volition.

The big, rough hand pounding Jodie's shoulder belonged to Ted, not Teddy.

“What the hell? What'd you do to Teddy?”

“Murdered the bitch.” Teddy laughed. “No, that would be Maxine's mama.”

“Why Ted, here?”

“Long story around my not getting done with a brake job on Maxine's sorry-ass car. We're on my machine.” She pulled two beers from the tub, tossed two quarters into the cigar box, and took the stool next to Jodie.

“Got to ask.”

“Aw, that one?”

“Yeah, complicated.”

“All right.”

“Am I in trouble here?”

“No, but a tighter rein can't hurt.”

Jodie understood Teddy's caution was about class, and those with power to make wide-spread trouble.

Maxine came through the back door and, spotting them, she smiled. Hers was a smile that in any given moment could cause a skeptic to believe that life was void of limitations and held only possibilities.

Jodie stood, and she and Maxine hugged. Maxine asked how she'd been, and she lied, putting forth her best face. Pity showed in Maxine's eyes, and Jodie looked away, out onto the dance floor. Maxine squeezed Jodie's hand. “I'm sorry, Jodie. I just hate when someone I love is unhappy.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What do you hear from Crystal Ann?”

“She's mostly good, I think.” She'd had a scenic beach postcard from Pensacola, making her answer only a white lie.

“I know you two agree that Brenda's wrong for her. But I hope this time it works for them. Oddly enough, we perfectly sensible women do fall in love with those who seem wrong for us.”

“And that would include every one of us lucky enough to figure we've found true love.” Teddy reached and pulled Maxine close, burying her face in the curve of Maxine's neck. Maxine mussed Teddy's bristled crew cut with the tenderness Jodie had seen her show with her kids.

Teddy winked at Jodie, and with her arm around Maxine's slim waist, they moved toward the crowded dance floor.

Even though Jodie found it hard to believe in a kind of love that stayed, she envied the familiar way Teddy and Maxine moved in each other's arms. They fit the dream that all wanted to believe.

Jodie took a table and surveyed the room, but there was no one who caught her eye. It was the second time she'd heard of Brenda and Crystal Ann's multiple breakups. The possibility of Crystal Ann's old Rambler rattling into the clearing and a chance for her and Crystal Ann at getting it right drove her lack of interest.

“Hey, Jodie, is it all right if I sit?”

Jodie pulled over a second chair, and Shirley sat, sniffling for a while before she could speak. Her eyes were beet red, and her bright, overdone orange makeup was streaked.

She leaned across the table and whispered, “Lou's at it again.” She took a long swig from the glass of beer Jodie had poured. “And I've started thinking turnabout is fair play.”

Jodie nodded. “Maybe, but it's got its downside.”

“You wouldn't be interested in going home with me, now would you?”

“You know I can't do that. You two are bound to patch things up, and I'd land my ass in the middle of something neither of us intended.”

“You're right. But would you at least walk me out? Please, I hate walking out alone.”

“Sure, I was thinking to leave myself.” There would be gossip to set straight, but there always was.

Outside the bar, Shirley called good-night and Jodie watched her drive away. She looked back toward the bar, the mournful voice of Kitty Wells pleading on behalf of honky-tonk angels.

Through the dark stand of trees, Jodie sighted headlights flickering, and at first she thought Shirley had changed her mind. Then more lights and the roar of engines. Vehicles approached, and they were coming hard.

She raced to the truck and sounded the horn three quick blasts—the agreed upon signal. Within minutes the clearing would explode in the roar of engines, the nightmarish shrill of sirens, flashing lights, and the screams of women.

J
odie ran full speed into the woods, underbrush tearing at her face and arms. At a distance of thirty yards or so into the cover of the trees, she dropped onto the ground and crawled beneath a large, uprooted pine. She pulled fallen branches to cover her and tried catching her breath. She was soaked to the skin in sweat, her scent that of pure fear.

She listened to the screams of panicked women as they pushed through the two doors and scattered in search of hiding places. Through the darkness, she thought she recognized Teddy moving in her direction. But she didn't see Maxine, and Teddy would never leave her behind.

In the harsh glow of spotlights, Jodie searched the faces of those pushed to their knees and pinned into a tight circle by swarming men wielding nightsticks. Jodie gasped as she watched Miss Doris's futile attempt to crawl beneath a nearby car. Kicking and cursing, she was dragged back into the circle by a burly man twice her size and half her age. Neither Teddy nor Maxine was in the circle of women.

At the flat, metallic thuds of batons slamming into soft tissue and the desperate cries of the pinned women, together with fits of male taunting, Jodie pushed further under the pine. The sound of someone moving through the trees in her direction drew closer, and she realized that the first runner was being chased by a second.

She peered into the gray void, struggling to figure her next move. She patted the ground in search of anything with enough heft to become a weapon. She grasped a fallen limb with the thickness of a bat, and tears of relief swelled in her throat.

Less than ten yards away, she recognized Teddy's slow, clumsy gait and Jodie risked calling out to her. But Teddy stopped and turned back into the path of her pursuer. She and her stalker faced off, and the cop shouted, “Goddamn you. I'll fucking kill you.”

Teddy swore and lunged, striking the bigger man a blow to his face. He retaliated, catching her with a glancing shot to her right temple. She moaned, staggered backward, tripped, and fell to the ground.

The enraged cop was on her before she could regain her feet, and he raised his baton time and time again, pounding her. She covered her head, drew her body into a fetal position, and never made another sound. The cop landed a heavy boot into Teddy's ribs, and Jodie heard a low whistle as air rushed from her lungs.

Jodie screamed, her rage propelling her forward, her fear tasting metallic in her mouth. Tightening her grip on the limb, she covered the distance with fury fueled by all the wrongs she'd known. Before the cop could fully turn, she swung with all her strength, landing a glancing blow across his lower back but missing his kidney, her intended target. His body stiffened but he somehow kept his feet. She drew back and struck him a second blow across his shoulders. He buckled and crashed facedown onto the ground.

Back in the direction of the clearing, she heard a second set of heavy footsteps coming in their direction.

“Oh God, Teddy, I'm so sorry. Can you stand?” Jodie whispered. “We've got to hide.”

Teddy struggled, but dropped back onto her knees.

“Go on, Jodie. I've got to go back. Find Maxine. She was right behind me. I don't know what happened.” Teddy sobbed.

“You can't help her now. You've got to get to your feet.” Jodie helped her stand, and Teddy stood doubled over, clutching her ribs.

There was no time to get deeper into the woods. They crouched behind the pine, watching as a second cop approached. The man on the ground struggled onto his knees.

“Shit, man. What the hell happened to you?”

“Don't make sense … I know I downed … a man. And then out of nowhere a second slugged me from behind. Never saw that one.”

“You're crazy.” The second cop snorted. “What you had was one them bull dykes. Can't tell them from the real thing.” He laughed. “Unless you grab for their balls.”

“You ain't one damn bit funny.” His pride scorched, he fired his revolver blindly four times, screaming profanities. Bullets sprayed leaves, snapping limbs overhead, and Jodie slipped a hand over Teddy's mouth, struggling to hold her down.

“Damnit, man, quit that crazy cowboy shit. Boss don't want the kin of no dead woman on his hands. Don't matter if she is queer. We've got plenty beat down, loaded in the paddy wagon. Boss wants them jailed in time to make the Sunday paper. We're here to win an election.

The two retreated and Jodie helped Teddy to her feet, but they waited until the last of the vehicles had sped away amid an array of loud laughter, insults, threats, and blaring horns before stumbling into the clearing. From all directions, shaken women emerged from hiding. They gathered in the clearing, asking about the gunshots, and when reassured no one had been shot, they set about accounting for those missing. A deeper despair settled over the women when it was determined that Miss Doris was among those on their way to jail.

“They'll be lucky if she don't capsize that wagon and beat the hell out of them brutes,” someone called, and their hollow laughter moved like a wave around the circle.

While two nurses among them attended to those who had suffered lacerations and bruises, those they feared suffered more serious injuries—concussions, cuts needing stitches, and broken bones—were driven to a known sympathetic doctor in a neighboring county. Veterans of raids sought to comfort the first-timers, especially those whose lovers were among the women taken away. Then there were no guarantees that their worst fate was behind them.

While Jodie and Teddy were reassured that Maxine wasn't among those taken, she was unaccounted for, and they feared that she lay too hurt to move or even call out. Others joined their search, but Jodie was first to spot Maxine crawling from beneath a pile of discarded lumber located beyond the perimeter of the clearing.

“There, Teddy.” Jodie's relief was so complete her words came hoarse to her lips.

Teddy called to Maxine, and gripping her left side, she ran to embrace her.

“Easy, baby, easy. I think I might have a busted rib or two.”

“Oh, Teddy,” Maxine began to sob. “I was so afraid.”

Teddy held her and whispered, “I know, baby. I know.”

“There were rats. And you know how I hate those little bastards.”

Jodie stood back from Teddy and Maxine, deeply shamed by her cowardice in having failed to react sooner, sparing Teddy at least part of the brutal beating she suffered.

Over the top of Maxine's head, Teddy looked at Jodie, and said, “Damned if Jodie didn't lay one of them bastards out flat. Saved my ass for sure.” Teddy reached and drew Jodie into her and Maxine's embrace. They held each other, and not trusting words they might have spoken, they laughed uncontrollably until they cried.

S
unday morning, Jodie drove into Selma, paid a quarter for the Sunday edition of the local newspaper that served the tri-county areas, and drove directly to Teddy's place: two rented rooms over a neighborhood liquor store. Parking next to Teddy's tarp-covered motorcycle, she rushed up the outdoor stairway and rapped on Teddy's door. She glanced about for unusual movement along the now empty street. The echo of Teddy's hurried footsteps, followed by the metallic whoosh of the deadbolt sliding and the door swinging open were the only sounds.

Teddy stood in the doorway, clutching her rib cage, her eyes the color of tomato paste, and it was clear she had suffered through a long night.

“Hey, what'd the paper say?” Teddy's breath was strong with the scent of chicory and bourbon.

Jodie handed Teddy the paper and followed her into the tiny alley kitchen. Teddy nodded toward the coffee pot heating on the stove and took a seat at the small table wedged against the wall.

Jodie poured coffee, then sat across from Teddy.

“Jesus God,” Teddy moaned. “They're totally screwed.”

Jodie sipped the strong coffee, remembering Jewel's warning that if she was to stay alive, she'd need to live small in this world. The women's photos appearing above the paper's top fold meant their carefully constructed, secretive worlds were flung open to ridicule, hatred, and the evil acts of those who didn't know them, but were sure they despised them. Jodie focused on Miss Doris's photo, her face haggard, but with a deeply defiant, hard set to her jaw, and she worried that Miss Doris might not have time enough to rebuild her shattered world. Then the passing of her beloved may have ended the life she'd most cherished, and there was nothing more others might attempt to take from her.

“Is there nothing we can do?”

“Damn, Jodie, sometimes your ignorance of how things work amazes me.” Teddy retrieved a half-empty bottle of bourbon from the cabinet under the sink, poured a hefty slug of liquor into her coffee cup, and looked to Jodie. Teddy had spoken of the convenience of living above a liquor store, teasing it saved her plenty of shoe leather.

“No, it's early for me.” She knew better than to hope for a magical fix, and forgave Teddy's harshness as an eruption of their shared anguish.

“It's later than you think.”

The newspaper reporter praised the sheriff's diligence in ridding the county of the moral corruption of these female freaks of nature, calling their presence a blight on communities of God-fearing citizens, their sexual deviancy a threat to every woman and child.