Small Town Girl

by Ann H. Gabhart

  What would she tell Lorena? That she was too late? That he’d just gone off to work without finding out about her? How could he do that? Even if she did tell him to leave.

  Poe started barking when she went around behind her father’s shop. Graham opened his door, and the dog lumbered down the steps to meet her with his tail whipping slowly back and forth. “You’re out early,” Graham called to her.

  “I was trying to catch Jay before he went to work, but I guess I’m too late.” Kate looked up at Graham in the doorway.

  “You’d a had to have been some earlier than this for sure. He didn’t never come inside here last night.”

  “At all?”

  Poe gave up on her rubbing his head and went to nose some bushes.

  “He was here. I heard him out at the pump sometime after I went to bed, but he didn’t come up the steps. Then he must have gone in your daddy’s shop ’cause I heard somebody messing around down there. Don’t know why he didn’t come on up here, but it ain’t my job to keep tabs on the boy. I did hear his car start up sometime before morning.” Graham stared down at Kate. “Something wrong?”

  He was gone. He’d left in the night. Just like that. Just like she’d told him to. Go away, she’d told him, and so he had. Her heart was feeling too heavy to beat.

  “You might say that,” Kate answered Graham. She wouldn’t cry. It was better this way.

  “You want to come on up and tell me about it? It’s a mite cold standing here in the door.”

  “I can’t. I’ve got to get back to see about Lorena.”

  Graham stepped out on the little landing at the top of the stairs. He was in his sock feet. “Something wrong with the girl?” Poe must have heard the worry in his voice. He climbed the stairs to lean against Graham’s legs.

  “She got hit by a car last night.” Kate had to swallow hard before she could go on. “Jay’s car.”

  “She hurt bad?” Graham came down a step.

  “Nothing but bruises. She was running after Trouble. Probably to keep him off the road. Jay swerved to miss the pup and hit Lorena.”

  “What was she doing out with that dog after dark?”

  “I don’t know.” Kate had a sudden overpowering desire to drop down on the cold ground, put her face in her hands, and cry.

  Why had Lorena gone out with the pup? She usually just opened the door to let him out or in, but last night she’d said something about going outside to see if it was snowing. Kate hadn’t paid it much attention then, but now she knew. Lorena had been watching for Jay, expecting him to come. She’d been peering out the window for his lights every few minutes all evening. Kate had been listening for his car too, had even thought she’d heard his car a little while before Lorena went outside. It could be Lorena hadn’t even been chasing the dog but had simply been running toward the road to get Jay to stop when he came by the house. For the first time, Kate wondered why he’d been coming from the wrong direction.

  “But you say she’s all right?” Graham put his hand on the old dog’s head and waited for Kate’s nod. “That’s good to know. I’m thinking that must have about killed the boy until he found out she wasn’t hurt bad. He sets a lot of store by that girl. Loves her plain and simple.”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  “He doesn’t know what? That he hit her?” Graham’s frown was back. When Kate didn’t answer right away, he went on. “You come on up here and tell me what’s going on whilst I put on my shoes. My toes are about froze off. Your mama’s there with Lorena, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, but . . .” Kate hesitated. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to Graham. Not yet. Not with her heart feeling like a chunk of ice inside her chest.

  “I ain’t taking no for an answer. You come up here and tell me what’s got that sorrowful look on your face if the girl’s all right.” Graham turned to go in as though the discussion was over.

  What could she do but give in and head for the steps. She didn’t know what she’d tell him, but she couldn’t turn her back on him. Not Graham, her friend since before she could remember.

  She didn’t see the book until she started up the stairs. “Did you leave a book down here?” she called up to Graham as he started back through the door.

  Graham stopped and looked down at the book. “The boy must have left it last night. I thought he came back across the yard before his car started up.”

  The War of the Worlds. Her father had loaned the book to Jay last week. A scrap of paper blew off the step when Kate picked up the book. She chased it down. A note for Graham. She’d never seen Jay’s writing, but she knew it was from him even without looking to see if he’d signed it. She should have folded it to keep from reading it, but instead her eyes grabbed the words.

  . . . ask Kate . . . gave Kate the chance you told me I should . . . didn’t give me a chance back . . . time I moved on. Got a war to win.

  The words blurred in front of her eyes. Gave her a chance? What did he mean? She stared at the paper as though she could make the letters rearrange into something that made more sense.

  “He leave a letter for you?” Graham asked when she kept standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  “It’s not to me,” Kate managed to say. “It’s to you.”

  “Then I reckon you need to bring it on up here and we’ll figure it out together.”

  Kate slowly climbed the stairs to Graham’s room. Nothing he was going to say would matter. Jay was gone. Got a war to win.

  30

  Jay joined the line at the enlistment office, filled out all the papers, stripped down for them to poke and prod his body to be sure he could take whatever the Army threw at him. At one stop, an officer stared straight at his eyes and probed his mental state.

  He could have told that one plenty, but nothing that would keep him out of the Army. The guy wasn’t interested in the condition of his heart. All he wanted to know was could Jay follow orders in the face of enemy fire without losing his grip and maybe start shooting in the wrong direction. The Army wasn’t worried about every answer being right. A man couldn’t be too sane if he was volunteering to go halfway around the world to get shot at.

  He passed. Was told to catch a train Saturday morning. They were giving him time to tell his family goodbye. But Jay didn’t have anybody to tell goodbye. Not now. He didn’t even have anybody to tell he’d joined up or where he was going. South, the recruiter said. He should have told them he could climb on the train the next morning. No need waiting. Nobody would be crying at home over him.

  Except maybe Birdie. If she’d come around. He couldn’t bear thinking she might not be okay. Wednesday night he thought about Mike going to Rosey Corner for prayer meeting. They wouldn’t be neglecting that service now. Every church all over the country was having extra prayer meetings. Mike might have already been in Rosey Corner. They would have called him about Birdie.

  Mike would hear the whole sad story. If Kate told him Jay was drunk, he wouldn’t doubt her. It wouldn’t matter that Jay had never been drunk around Mike. He’d believe it was possible. He was a friend, but one with wide-open eyes. He knew Jay’s shortcomings. Jay could almost see his mouth tightening up to keep himself from saying he’d warned them. He might feel sorry for Jay. He might think he should talk to Jay or more likely preach at him. Bring him along the right path.

  Jay thought he had been headed down that right path. Sitting on a church pew. Dancing to the music of the heart with the most enchanting girl he’d ever met. Being pulled into the good feeling of family. Feeling as though he had a real place to belong for the first time since his mother died. Loving Kate.

  That’s where the path faded away. His love hadn’t been good enough. Mike would tell him to pray for that perfect love Kate had told him about. He had prayed. That night when he saw Birdie lying lifeless in the road in front of his car. A desperate prayer. Maybe he’d had no right to make that prayer. Maybe that’s why the Lord had knocked him down with Kate turning her back on him.


  But even now, unable to sleep as he stared at the ceiling above the bed in his rented room, that first prayer—the one pleading with the Lord for Birdie—kept circling around in his head. He couldn’t block it out. What if Mike was getting ready to preach a funeral? The thought stabbed Jay, made sleep almost impossible.

  The sun was shining when he dragged himself out of bed Thursday morning. Two more days before his life wouldn’t be his to order any longer. The Army would be pulling his strings. That might be good. Maybe the training would be so tough he wouldn’t have time to think about Birdie. About Rosey Corner.

  After he ate, he checked the newspaper for a dealer to take his car off his hands. He wouldn’t get much, not as old as it was and with all the miles on it. He climbed in the car and ran his hands around the familiar steering wheel. He didn’t like thinking about selling it. The car had been his home on wheels for several years, so it seemed wrong to almost give it away to a complete stranger. Somebody who probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Might even junk it. But what other choice did he have? He stared out the windshield. If only he had a place to leave it where he might imagine it being there when he got back. If he got back.

  He wouldn’t need much money where he was headed. The Army would be housing and dressing and feeding him. The only thing he’d need money for would be to tie one on at a roadhouse, and he didn’t care if he ever saw the inside of another roadhouse. He was wishing he hadn’t seen the inside of one on Monday.

  He knew what he was going to do even before he started up the motor and headed east toward Rosey Corner. He’d give the car to Birdie. She couldn’t drive, but Mr. Merritt could. Kate could.

  Thinking about giving the kid the car helped him believe she had opened her eyes. He imagined her playing with the pup and maybe watching for him. He couldn’t climb on that train Saturday without knowing that was true.

  Besides, hadn’t he promised her he would always come back? As long as she and Kate wanted him to. Now Kate didn’t. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go back at least this one time to tell Birdie goodbye. To make sure she was all right. That didn’t mean he couldn’t leave the car there and tell her to hang on to it for him until he came back for it. That would prove to her he’d be back again someday.

  He slowed as he came to the Franklins’ farm. Smoke was rising out of the chimney, and he imagined the little woman stirring up a cake for Mr. Franklin with one eye on the window watching for the mailman to stop at the mailbox. Waiting for a letter. He wasn’t her son, but maybe he’d send her a postcard after he got to the training camp. He remembered the address she’d given him. Rural Route 2, Edgeville. It would be good to have somebody in the world know where he was.

  He thought about turning down their lane, to tell them in person. He’d never worried about telling anybody goodbye before. He’d always just gotten in his car and driven away, but Rosey Corner had changed him. Made him wish for family. But wishing didn’t make things true. He’d worked for the Franklins a few weeks, but they weren’t family.

  He pushed down on the gas pedal and sped past their mailbox. He could still send the card. That would make the little woman happy without him dreaming up things that couldn’t be true.

  Is that what he’d done with Kate? Dreamed up the music? But she’d heard it too, so if he’d been dreaming, so had she. Trouble was, people woke up from dreams.

  A mile from Rosey Corner, he turned down a side road to keep from driving straight through the little community. He didn’t want to take the chance of seeing anybody he might have to talk to. At least not until he knew about Birdie.

  After winding around the back roads, he came out at the church. A great place to leave the car. He parked it under a big cedar behind the church.

  When he got out, he shut the door easy and ran his hand along the fender. He was going to miss the old car, but he’d be glad to think about it being in Rosey Corner even if he couldn’t be. With a last pat on the hood, he turned and walked down to the school.

  Everybody was still inside, so he leaned against a tree on the opposite side of the road and waited. It was cold, but he had his new coat on. Time ticked by. He must have missed recess time or maybe the cold was keeping the kids inside close to the stove. A gangly kid almost as tall as Jay came out and carried a bucket of coal back inside. He didn’t notice Jay.

  Jay stuck his hands in his pockets and wriggled his toes to warm them up. He thought about going back to the car, but he wasn’t sure what time school let out. He didn’t want to miss seeing Birdie run out the door toward home. That’s all he wanted. To see her running. He pulled out his watch and stared at the hands. Already past two. A long time since breakfast.

  He should have stopped somewhere and gotten something to eat. He could have even stopped at the Franklins’ and eaten some of that imagined cake. It wouldn’t be as good as Kate’s mother’s brown sugar pie. Just the thought of that brought the sadness down on him again. He was glad the cold was making his fingers ache. That might keep him from thinking about the ache in his heart.

  He wouldn’t starve. He’d wait. It couldn’t be long now until school was out. He had time. At least until he had to board that train on Saturday. After he saw Birdie, he’d hitch a ride back to Louisville. Leave Rosey Corner behind, but with a reason to come back. Everything would be changed then. Him maybe most of all. War changed men. Everybody said that. And Kate would find somebody to love she could trust. Somebody she might say yes to if he asked her to elope.

  He shut his eyes and could see all the different smiles she’d given him when he’d asked her that. How about we elope? The first time after the wedding, she’d been surprised but amused at his outrageous proposal. Then each time after that the amusement had softened, until last week he thought she was near to thinking yes even if she didn’t say it out loud.

  What would she say now if he had the nerve to go to the store and barge right up to the counter and ask if she wanted to elope? He blew out a deep sigh and his breath hung in the cold air. It was too late. Her smiles were lost to him. He said the words he’d never said to any girl before, and she had shut the door on them. He shouldn’t have come back to Rosey Corner. He should have given the car to the first down-on-his-luck person he saw on the streets of Louisville and written Birdie a note. Then he could imagine her fine whether she was or not.

  But he wanted to give the car to Birdie. He wanted the connection to Rosey Corner. It seemed necessary to have a place to think about coming back to, whether he belonged or not. Birdie might be big enough to drive the car herself by then. What was she now? Ten. Who knew how long the war would last? Two, three years? That seemed forever when he thought about it. But whatever it took to win the war. That’s what every soldier had to give. Whatever it took. Even if that was everything.

  At last the school door burst open and kids began to stream out. The ones Birdie’s size were so bundled up in coats, hats, and scarves that he wasn’t sure whether any of them were Birdie or not. He stepped away from the tree toward the road to get a closer look at the faces under the hats and scarves.

  Then one of the girls broke away from the group. “Tanner!” she cried as she ran right across the road.

  His heart jumped up in his throat when she didn’t look for traffic. He could breathe again when he saw the road was clear. The next thing he knew, she was slamming up against him and grabbing him around the waist in a hug.

  “I knew you’d come back. I knew it.” She looked up at him with a smile that could light up the darkest cave.

  “I had to see if my little bird was all right and didn’t have any broken wings.” He put his hand on top of her head and looked down at her. A purplish green bruise shaded her cheek.

  “I’m not hurt. Well, nothing broken. Some yucky scrapes on my legs and you should see the bruise on my hip. Oh, and that goose egg is still on my head.” She jerked off her knit cap. “You want to feel? Just don’t push too hard.” She peeled off her glove and pushed her fingers up through the back
of her curly hair to show him where to feel. “See? Right here.”

  He gingerly touched the bump on her head. The bump that had changed everything. That wasn’t really true. The meal his boss had wanted to buy him—that was what had changed everything. But it shouldn’t have. Kate should have trusted him enough to listen. He shoved all that out of his mind. He wasn’t in Rosey Corner to think about Kate. He had come to be sure Birdie was all right. And she was.

  “That’s quite a knot,” he said.

  “I went to the doctor Tuesday and he said my head must have hit the road and that I was lucky it swelled out instead of in. Told me I might still be seeing stars if that had happened. He was funny. But he promised me I won’t always have a bumpy head. It wouldn’t matter much if I did. My hair would cover it up.” She shoved her hat down on her hair again and stuck her hand back in her glove. “I’ve got really thick hair.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” Birdie grabbed his hand and pulled it up against her cheek. “Your hands are like ice. You should have come inside. Miss Mary wouldn’t have cared.”

  “It’s not all that cold, and I didn’t want to get you in hot water with your teacher.” Jay grinned down at her and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “I’m real glad you’re okay. You weren’t looking too good last time I saw you.”

  She looked upset. “I’m sorry you didn’t know I woke up. The doctor said I had a concussion, but it wasn’t anything to be worried about.”

  “I was worried.”

  “I told Kate you would be. She got up early that next morning to tell you I was okay, but you were already gone.” Birdie peered up at him. “Graham said you left in the middle of the night. Why did you leave like that?”

  “When it’s time to leave, it’s time to leave. Kate told you I was sorry, didn’t she?”