The Edge of Town (29 page)

“You’d be surprised at what I’m afraid of.”

Evan got out of the car and came around to open the door for her. She got out, leaving the box of chocolates on the seat. He reached in and put the box in her hands.

“You forgot these. They were for you.”

“All … for me? You shouldn’t have—”

“I wanted to.” He took her elbow and walked with her to the door.

“Thank you for the candy and …the cones for the kids and for everything.”

“Thank you, Julie. I’ll be looking forward to next Saturday night.” He desperately wanted to kiss her again but feared to press his luck.

“Me, too. Good night.”

“Good night, Julie.”

Evan waited on the porch until she was in the house, then went back to his car. He had met women of all types, from St. Joseph to London and Paris: flappers, courtesans and society dames. Not one of them had even come close to tying him in knots as Julie was doing. There was a freshness about her that caused him to want to be with her every moment. Every night for the past week he had lain awake thinking about her.

He was reasonably sure, he thought as he drove home, that she felt something for him. She had melted against him. Her mouth had clung sweetly to his. A woman like Julie wouldn’t kiss a man as she had done if there wasn’t some feeling involved.

Happier than he could remember being in a long, long time, he parked the car in the shed and headed for the darkened house.

* * *

Chief Corbin Appleby and the young doctor, whom he had met at the ball park, stood on the street corner near the telephone office. Dr. Forbes had come uptown with him after they took Ron Poole back to his store.

“You’re the second man I’ve met in my life who likes to run. When I was a kid back in Harpersville, Tennessee, I knew a boy who would rather run than eat. He was a colored boy my brother-in-law had taken in to raise. His dream was to race in the Olympics.”

“Did he make it?”

No. He went to school down in Tuskegee, Alabama. His love for running was replaced with love for learning. He’s not only one of the fastest but one of the smartest men I ever met. He’s passionately interested in gardening now and working with his people to produce food not only for their families but to sell. He would have been good at anything he set his mind to.”

“He never ran after he went away to school?”

“Not that I know of.” Dr. Forbes grinned. “He gave the fastest man in the county a fifty-foot head start and still beat him in the Fourth of July footrace. And he was only a fourteen-year-old kid at the time. Raised a stink in town … that’s sure.”

“I gave up thinking about competition when I went into the army. Now I run for the fun of it.”

“There was a stupid law in Harpersville that forbade coloreds being in town after dark. One night just at dusk, Jodie ran right down the middle of Main Street and thumbed his nose at the marshal. Lord, that was funny. The old banker almost had apoplexy. He wanted the marshal to arrest him. But the marshal was a good sort, he—”

“Uh-oh. Light’s on. I’m wanted.” Corbin hurried to the telephone office. Dr. Forbes followed.

“Otto Bloom is acting up again,” Mrs. Ham said, as soon as Corbin entered the office. “He’s down at the house shouting at his wife. She’s locked the door and won’t let him in.”

“The house is under quarantine. If he goes in, he can’t come out until the doc lifts the quarantine.”

“The call came from one of the neighbors.”

“I’ll go right down.”

“Mind if I go along?” Dr. Forbes asked.

“Not at all, if you can keep up. I can run there in less time than it would take me to get the car. It’s two blocks down and the third house on the right. You’ll hear a commotion.”

Corbin was off running down the middle of the street before the doctor could answer.

At the Bloom house, Otto was pounding on the door and shouting obscenities.

“Let me in, ya damn whorin’ bitch! This is my house!”

“Please, Otto. Dennis is sick—”

“Open this goddamn door or I’ll strip the hide off your back when I do get in.”

“I don’t think so.” Corbin stepped up onto the porch and with a heavy hand on his shoulder spun the obviously very drunk man around.

“Whater ya doin’ here? Get off my porch.”

“You’ve got a very sick kid in there—”

“It’s my kid. Ain’t yores.”

“If you go in, you can’t come out. The house is under quarantine.” Corbin wanted more than anything to put his fist in the man’s mouth, but he held on to his patience.

“Who says I can’t come out?”

“I say so.”

“Your say-so don’t mean shit. Your say-so didn’t stand up to Mr. Wood when ya put me in jail. He told ya how important I was. Can’t run that two-bit bank without me.” He turned and pounded on the door. “Edith, ya ugly bitch, you’re goin’ to get it good if you don’t open this door.”

“Go away, Otto. You woke Dennis and he’s crying.”

“Damn kid is always cryin’,” he shouted.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?” Doc Forbes had arrived, slightly out of breath.

“Go ahead. I can’t keep him from going into his own house. It’ll be hell for the woman if he can’t come out again.”

“Mr. Bloom, I’m Doc Forbes. I’m here to help Doc Curtis during this epidemic.”

“He’s a old quack. Not lettin’ a man in his own house ort to be ’gainst the law.”

“Maybe. I noticed that you have a cut on your cheek and thought I should warn you.”

“ ’Bout what?”

“About diphtheria germs getting into an open cut. Kids can survive diphtheria … sometimes. Grown-ups are g-goners if they get it. The germs are very active and float around in the air seeking open wounds. I’d not go in there if I were you. I’ve seen men—women, too—die within three days after a germ gets into even a small open place on the skin.”

Otto backed away from the door. “Why didn’t that old quack tell me?”

“He probably thought you knew. Most people do.”

“How’d I know? I ain’t no doc.” Otto stepped off the porch then turned. “How long will it be till I can get in my house?”

“Until the child no longer has a fever and the house is fumigated.”

“I hope to hell that ugly bitch’s got a cut. I’ve had all a her I can stand.” Otto lurched off into the darkness, talking to himself.

“I’ll get even with that so-called lawman who’s come to town actin’ like he owns it, and I know just the man to help me do it. I’m not goin’ to be walked on. I’m important to Mr. Wood. The fat turd will back me ’cause I know what to do to stop his clock. Oh, yes. I know what to do to make the fat fart squeal.”

Otto continued to mutter as he headed for Well’s Point.

“N-nice fellow,” Dr. Forbes remarked after Otto left.

“Pretty good tale you spun there.”

“If it hadn’t worked, I had one in reserve.” Dr. Forbes grinned and rapped on the door. “Mrs. Bloom, I’m Dr. Forbes, I was here this afternoon with Doc Curtis. Your husband is gone. I’d like to speak to you about your boy.”

The door opened a crack and Mrs. Bloom peered out. “He’s gone?”

“He’s gone. I scared him off. I don’t think he’ll come back. May I come in and see Dennis?”

Edith Bloom held the door open in invitation.

“I’ll be going back uptown,” Corbin called and walked out into the yard.

Otto and Walter Johnson had gotten into a scuffle down at Well’s Point the night before and both had come away with bloody noses. But, according to the bartender, they were drinking together again before the night was over.

Walter Johnson was back in town tonight. Corbin had told Harvey Knapp at the billiard parlor that he would keep an eye on his place in case the bully again refused to leave at closing time. Corbin headed up that way, his mind busy. He had thought quite a bit about Julie Jones since the day he’d eaten dinner at her house and had felt a stab of disappointment tonight seeing her with Walter Johnson’s son.

When he saw the entire Jones family at the ball field, he hadn’t thought much about Johnson’s being there, but then he had seen the two of them sitting in the car in front of the drugstore. It made him wonder if Johnson was seriously courting Julie.

Corbin had asked Ira Brady, the mayor, about Evan Johnson and had learned that the man had left Fertile as a twelve-year-old kid and returned here a few months ago after serving in the military during the war. Why would a college educated, world-traveled man with a sizable inheritance from his grandparents come back to a one-horse town like Fertile?

Corbin slowed his steps as he reached Main Street. He bet folks wondered the same thing about him. But he had a damn good reason for being here. He was reasonably sure that a man in this town was responsible for the death of a girl he had loved all his life and he was determined to find him. When he’d come home from the war and learned that Elaine was dead, grief had brought him to his knees.

Corbin had learned that three other girls from the area had been raped that summer, all blindfolded and dragged into the woods. Elaine had fought her rapist. The tiny scrap of paper found clutched in her hand was torn from a sale bill. The paper was wet, but the printed words were easy to read:
Fertile, Mo. April
—. Elaine had seen and recognized the rapist and he had killed her.

Businesses along the street were closing. Corbin nodded a good-night to Frank Adler, the druggist, when he came to lock the front door. He had made it his business to find out as much as he could about the council members. Frank was the only one who wasn’t married. He lived in rooms over the drugstore. To Corbin’s way of thinking, Adler was an unlikely man to be in the retail business. He wasn’t very friendly.

Corbin stopped to chat with Albert Boyer, who, with two helpers, ran the only barbershop in town.

“Night, Chief. Don’t forget the free cut you got coming for dragging that drunk outta my shop.”

“That’s what I’m paid for, Albert. You owe me nothing.”

“It eases my mind knowin’ you’re around, Chief.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell the council. Maybe they’ll raise my pay.” Corbin grinned, tipped his hat and moved on.

As Corbin moved on down the street, he realized that he liked this town and the people in it. Most of them, anyway. Maybe after his mission was completed he would settle here with a nice girl, like Julie Jones, and raise a family. With that thought, he decided to make a run out past the Jones farm in the morning.

* * *

Julie opened the firebox on the stove and shoved in another stick of wood. She had come down to the kitchen this morning after her father had gone out to do the morning chores.

She heard the sound of boots coming down the stairs. Then Joe came in, pushing his shirt down into his pants, and headed for the washbasin.

“Have a good time?” he asked when Julie came to fill the teakettle from the hand pump.

“Pretty good,” she replied, looking into his grinning face, her own lips twitching to keep from smiling.

“Pretty good? Guess I’ll have to ask Evan.”

“Jack Jones! Don’t you dare! I’m glad I went. There, are you satisfied? I’m … going out with him again next Saturday night,” she said with a rush.

“Well, whataya know? You’ll probably turn out to be a regular gadabout.” Joe splashed water on his face and reached for the towel. “It was an eventful night for the Joneses. You and Papa had dates and Jack made the baseball team.”

“Papa didn’t come in until late.” The smile vanished from Julie’s face.

“I know. I heard him.”

“Well, what’s to come will come. Are you and Jack going to church with us this morning?”

“Ah … Sis, I purely hate sittin’ in that hot church for hours. I’ll ask Papa if I can take you in the car, then come get you when it’s over. It’s too hot for you and the kids to walk up that hill.”