Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind (5 page)

Out on the sidewalk, I said, “Now, see, that wasn’t so hard. Let’s go get a fountain Coke at the drugstore.”

W
HEN WE WERE
through with the pause that refreshes, I marched the child down the block to Buddy’s Barber & Expert Depilatory Shop. Buddy Whitesides had two chairs in the front where he and Arlo Turner wielded razors, scissors, and electric clippers. And flung around clouds of talcum powder with their little whisk brooms. In the back, separated by a gray flannel curtain, Alva, Buddy’s wife, had a chair where she ministered to those with hair in unsightly places. You couldn’t’ve paid me to go back there.

Both Buddy and Arlo were working on two men I didn’t know, farmer types, when we walked in. And sitting in one of the maroon Naugahyde and rusted-chrome chairs was Leonard Conover, of all people, waiting his turn. He looked up from his magazine when the bell over the door tinkled, then he slammed the magazine shut and shoved it under a stack on the table beside him.

“Why, Julia,” he said, his face turning an unappetizing red. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t expect to be here, either. But here I am because this boy needs a haircut. Buddy,” I said, turning to the owner, “which one of you does the best haircut for a child?”

“Oh, we’re both good,” he said, clippers suspended as he
looked from me to the boy. “Either one of us will do you a fine job. That a little friend of yours?” He nodded toward the boy.

“You could say that,” I said, sitting down by Leonard and motioning Little Lloyd to take a seat, too. “How are you, Leonard? How’re things down at the courthouse?”

“Good, good, I stay busy.” He kept looking across me to the boy, curious as a cat. I should’ve said something right then, because if you want something to get around town, just tell it in a beauty or barbershop. But I held my peace for the time being.

“Yes,” Leonard went on, his fair complexion gradually returning to its natural state, “besides all I have to do at the courthouse, church business is taking up a lot of my time. Lots of plans. Yes, lots of plans. Takes a lot of work.” He nodded his head for emphasis.

“I don’t doubt it,” I said. Leonard had never been known as a ball of fire even before he became a civil servant. I rested my hands on my pocketbook in my lap and fixed a steady gaze on Buddy so he’d hurry up and get to us.

“You know, Julia,” Leonard said, half turning in his chair to get my attention. I noted the fine graying hair that barely covered his scalp, the soft weight of his shoulders, and how he spread out in the chair, and wondered if LuAnne minded. But then, once married, you take whatever the results turn out to be. “I’m not supposed to say anything about this,” he told me in a confidential whisper, “because it’s just in the planning stage. But the church has grown so much that we’ve just got to consider a building program. I’ve been thinking, and it’s just my idea, but now, with Wesley Lloyd gone and all, you might be ready to move to a smaller place. You ought to think about donating your house to the church. We could sure use the space, even if it’s just for parking.”

I turned and looked at him. I clamped my teeth together and said, “You want to tear down my house so you can park
cars over there for one hour each week? Leonard Conover, not in a million years.”

He raised and lowered a shoulder, then slumped back in his chair. Leonard was used to having his ideas shot down. “It was just a thought for, you know, well, when the house gets to be too much for you.”

Arlo was shaving his customer’s neck while Buddy snipped around his client’s ears, their attention on us more than on their work. It made me cringe to think of a slip. Contrary to what I’d always heard about conversation in a barbershop, there was very little going on in this one. Too busy trying to hear Leonard and me, and trying to figure out what I was doing with a child who looked awfully familiar.

“Don’t plan on that happening anytime soon. Buddy,” I said, “I don’t mean to hurry you, but some people have things to do.” He nodded and snipped faster as I added, “We don’t all work at the courthouse, you know.”

“Now, Julia,” Leonard said, heaving himself up in his chair for another approach, “you don’t have any idea what I do at the courthouse, and I hope you never have to find out. But you ought to consider that Wesley Lloyd never wanted you to be burdened with responsibility. What he left is too much for one person, ’specially for somebody who’s never had experience handling estates and such like. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. I sure wouldn’t want LuAnne to be burdened like you are.”

I stared at him. LuAnne was as likely to be burdened with Leonard’s estate as she was with the Publishers’ Clearing House Sweepstakes grand prize.

“You don’t think I’m capable?”

“Well,” Leonard said, and exchanged knowing smiles with Buddy and Arlo. Three barbershop tycoons. “You’re not getting any younger, Julia.”

There was a bulletin for you.

Buddy flipped the cape off his customer and started flicking talcum powder around the poor man’s neck.

“Come on, Little Lloyd,” I said, taking his hand. “Mr. Buddy will take you next.”

I helped Little Lloyd up in the chair and onto the board that Buddy put across the arms to raise him to the right height. “Take your glasses off,” I said, and then to Buddy, “I don’t want it shaved, buzzed, or styled. I want a decent haircut that gets the hair out of his eyes and off his neck. In fact, you can give him one just like you used to give his daddy.”

Recognition of the boy and confirmation of their suspicions froze every man in the place. Arlo’s eyes bugged out as his jaw dropped. His customer frowned, trying to make sense of what was going on. Leonard sat in his chair like he was paralyzed with shock. He kept opening and closing his mouth, his lips making a smacking noise each time they met. The voice of some country music singer on the radio yearning for commitment did little to fill the embarrassed silence.

“Well, get on with it,” I said to Buddy, who stood with his hands held up in the air like a surgeon.

“Yes, ma’am, okay, we’ll give this boy a fine haircut.” He jerked around, picked up a comb, dropped it on the floor, fumbled for another one, and gave me a sick grin as he finally got started on the boy’s head.

Some people don’t know how to act when the truth stares them in the face.

By the time we started home, after meeting any number of people downtown, I was drained to a fare-thee-well. Telling the truth, which I’d forced myself to do after nearly falling down on the job in the barbershop, can really take the starch out of you. Little Lloyd felt the same way, because he scuffed his feet all the way home and I had to speak to him about it.

“Pick up your feet, Little Lloyd,” I said as we walked down the sidewalk on our way home. “Here, let me have your hand, and smile so everybody’ll see how happy you are.”

He gave me his hand and said, “I don’t much think I am.”

“Well, of course not, what with your mother gone and all. But you have to put up a good front so people won’t know your personal business and talk about you. And that reminds me, we should’ve gotten you something to play with. What do you enjoy doing?”

He thought for a minute, then said, “I like to put puzzles together. And I like to listen to music.”

“I used to like puzzles myself. We’ll have to get us some and work them together. What kind of music do you like?”

“All kinds, but I like Tim McGraw and Sawyer Brown best. My mama, she likes Dwight Yoakam. She likes to watch his videos.”

“Do tell,” I murmured, not having an idea in the world of what he was talking about. “Here we are,” I said, turning into the front walk. “I declare, we’ve had a time of it. And the day not half over yet.”

THERE WAS STILL
a long day in front of me, because LuAnne Conover was sitting there ensconced in one of my wine velvet Victorian chairs. She hopped up as soon as we got in the door, flapping and waving her hands with the thrill of it all.

“Julia, oh, Julia,” she said, running to my side like I needed help to get in the door. “Oh, I just heard this terrible news; I just can’t believe it; tell me it isn’t true! Oh, Julia, I just feel for you so much, I don’t know how you’re bearing up. How are you, anyway?” She was speaking to me, but her eyes, bright with curiosity, were fastened on the boy.

“Sit down, LuAnne,” I said, trying to get my hat off my head.
“I’m all right, but it looks like you need some help. Didn’t Lillian offer you anything?”

“Oh, I couldn’t eat a thing. I’m just too upset by all this, and
suffering
with you, Julia. Tell me now,” she said, sitting beside me on the sofa and leaning practically in my face, “just what all happened. You wouldn’t believe all the stories I’ve heard this morning!”

“Oh, I probably would,” I said, sighing. I knew the town about as well as it could be known, and Mary Alice, along with everybody else we’d met, except maybe Leonard, who’d never been able to put two and two together, would’ve been on the phone as soon as my back was turned. “By the way, this is the subject of all you’ve heard.” I looked over at Little Lloyd, who was still standing by the door. “Say hello to Miz Conover, Lloyd, then run on in the kitchen and ask Lillian for your lunch. If you didn’t spoil your appetite with that cherry Coke.”

He ducked his head and mumbled something at LuAnne before scurrying out of the room. I would’ve corrected his manners, but LuAnne’s were worse. She just stared at him with her mouth open.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it!” she gasped. “Somebody told me you had that boy, but I told them, ‘No, Julia wouldn’t do that.’ What in the world are you thinking of, Julia? How can you stand to have that child in your house? I tell you, if Leonard pulled a stunt like that, I wouldn’t take in his”—she paused, looked around, and whispered—“
bastard
.”

“You do what you have to do, LuAnne,” I said, “which is what I’m doing. Now, I want to ask you something. Did you know Wesley Lloyd was keeping that woman?”

“Oh, Julia,
everybody
knew it. Well, I mean,” she corrected herself, “it’s been talked about for years. You know how these stories get around.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why, you know, I just didn’t believe it.” She laughed a little nervous laugh and quickly cut it off when she saw the look I gave her. “And nobody did, believe me, they really didn’t. Or maybe they thought you knew and didn’t care. Ann Landers says the wife always knows, and everybody should MYOB.”

“My Lord,” I moaned, holding my head in my hands.

I heard the telephone ring and Lillian’s voice as she answered it. I didn’t want to talk to anybody, including LuAnne. But on she went.

“Julia, everybody’s upset over what you’re doing and, I have to tell you, they’re wondering if maybe you’re not thinking too clearly.

“Oh, I mean,” she said as I lifted my head and glared at her, “we all know you’ve been under a strain, what with Wesley Lloyd’s passing and all. It’s just been too much for you, and you need to sit back and let your friends take over for you. Leonard was saying just the other day that there are legal remedies.”

“Legal remedies? What are you talking about, LuAnne?”

“Why, all your problems, of course. Leonard sees this type of a problem every week or so, and the decisions he has to make just tear him up.”

I leaned my head back against the sofa and closed my eyes. “Have mercy,” I prayed just loud enough for LuAnne to hear, as well as the One addressed. If I were fool enough to let Leonard Conover make decisions for me, I’d need not only mercy but shock treatments, too.

“Now, Julia,” LuAnne went on, “I’m here to do anything I can for you. You just go up and lie down, and I’ll answer the door and keep a record for you. People are going to want to come by or call to see how you’re doing.”

“Nobody’s died here, LuAnne! And I don’t need to receive people who just want to satisfy their curiosity. I’m too busy to
see anybody anyway, so you can run on home and look after Leonard.”

“Well,” she said, and I could see her feelings were hurt. Too bad, because mine were, too. “I just thought you’d want a friend beside you in your time of trouble.”

“My time of trouble was all those years when Wesley Lloyd was gallivanting with that woman. I could’ve used a friend then, but I didn’t have a one in this town.”

“I can see you’re upset, Julia, and I don’t fault you for it.” She got up and stood by me, her hand on my shoulder. “I’m praying for you, and so is the whole prayer chain. I started it right before I came over here.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. What else could I say? The Presbyterian Women’s Prayer Chain transmitted news of sickness, accident, death, divorce, pregnancy, teenage problems, bankruptcy, and anything else you could name, and did it faster than a streak of summer lightning. Well, it was no more than I expected, having activated the prayer chain myself any number of times when I’d heard something that needed to be prayed over and passed on.

When LuAnne left, Lillian came into the living room where I still sat trying to collect myself.

“I made you some soup,” she said, setting a tray on my lap. “I’m feeding that little boy in the kitchen, then he gon’ help me peel apples for a pie. Eat somethin’ now. You gon’ need it, ’cause that was yo’ preacher callin’. He want to know can you walk over to the church. He want to counsel with you.”