She was the most fascinating mix of grown-up and teenager, sometimes blowing me away with her wisdom and other times cracking me up with a silly discussion she was in at school. I hoped it might work out somewhere years down the line that Katy could own The News-Item. She was blossoming into a fine young woman and was going to make a magnificent journalist.
My neighbor Chris called a couple of times to update me on Mannix's recovery and to see how I was doing. He was effusive in thanking me for helping Mannix, and I could tell he was worried about how things were going at the paper.
"You be careful, okay?" he said.
Others, like Rose, Linda, and the Taylors, never let more than a few days go by without checking on me.
Kevin e-mailed every day and left numerous messages for me. "I am determined to cheer you up," she said when I called her back. "Phone tag gets old quick. I'm taking you to supper tomorrow, like it or not."
She strolled into the country club as though she had been a member for life, gracefully walking over to our table. She definitely belonged.
"Ready for a standing girls' night out?" she asked, plopping her huge purse onto a spare chair. "Because you're not leaving here without setting up dinner next month, restaurant of your choice."
"That's the kind of friend I love," I said. "Plans the next meal before we've even ordered this one. No wonder my jeans are getting tight."
After the club's famous turtle cheesecake, Kevin rummaged in her purse and pulled out photographs of her neighborhood. "Look at this mess. I wish my favorite muckraker could do something about the Lakeside Annex."
I flipped through the photos. "These remind me of my first moments in Green. I nearly turned around and left town. But your cottage looks so cute. It brightens the entire block."
We parted with plans to meet again for supper and to work on Kevin's neighborhood.
Even Pastor Jean called regularly and stopped by my house once in awhile. "I owe you big time," she said, sitting on my porch one evening. "All your news distracted folks from the lady preacher. Now if you could just get them to tithe."
Her visit lifted my spirits considerably.
"I'm better at what goes in the paper than what goes in the offering plate," I said. "But I can assemble something on a dinner plate. Want a bite to eat?"
The Green Forward group marched on without my presence at the meetings, pulling off a fun Saturday Oktoberfest. The high school band played, a civic club sold sausages on a stick, and churches organized games for children. Satisfaction rolled over me as I looked at the traffic outside my office window.
I needed the reassurance. I spent most of my time meeting with civil attorneys and criminal prosecutors, bankers, insurance company representatives, and people from every agency from the IRS to the FBI.
"Let's walk through this again," the district attorney said during what had become a typical afternoon meeting. "When did you first suspect someone stole from the paper?"
"She's told you this a dozen times already," Walt said. He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke. "We've been over this very thing every day for a week. Not to mention having the same conversation with the assistant U.S. attorney in Alexandria."
"You know the grand jury's looking into the allegations," the D.A. said. "We've got malfeasance at the paper and Major's illegal activities. There's a lot riding on this."
"Let's get on with it," I said. "I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."
The IRS audit team showed up at the paper first thing one morning. "We'll need to go over your books from the past three years for starters," the agent said. "We'll let you know if we need more."
"But most of those records have already been subpoenaed in the criminal cases," Iris Jo said. "Can't this wait until those are resolved?"
"No ma'am, sure can't," one accountant said. "We must verify the accuracy of The News-Item's tax returns for the past few years. See if proper taxes were paid."
"You mean the paper might owe taxes on money that was stolen?" I asked. "I'd better get Walt on the phone."
The McCullers put out a statement defending their good name as the news unfolded. "We have a deep love and respect for The News-Item and the community of Green. We are shocked at the implication we would do anything illegal or unethical. Outsiders, with no regard for our beloved town, are trying to tear down years of positive work."
"Don't let their statement get to you," Walt said from his makeshift office in our boardroom. "The truth will be told. They know what they've done. And you have the respect of many people in this town-even if you are a newcomer."
All the distractions sidetracked our romance, but I found his presence comforting and relied heavily on his intellect and instincts to make key decisions.
I sat down with him and Duke at the bank one morning soon after the IRS visit. "I need to talk about selling the paper," I said. "This chaos threw me off course. To complicate it even more, Eva's interested in making an offer and needs an answer.
"Don't do anything immediately," Duke said. "Let the dust settle till the end of the year."
"You're going to have a tough time closing on this deal with so much litigation pending," Walt said. "Need to let the courts decide how much money you can recover from Lee Roy and maybe even Dub and Chuck." Everyone in town knew about Lee Roy's arrest. Not only had we covered it in the paper, but also it was one of those topics people liked to stand around and talk about. "Absolutely," Duke said. "Pay the interest on the line of credit and see what happens. Then you can renegotiate with the bank."
When I left the meeting, I walked directly over to the department store to see Eva. "Things are in too much of a mess to give you the answer you need," I said. "The timing is not right."
She took it with grace and smiled. "Well, that settles it. Can I count on your support for mayor, ma'am?"
"You have my vote." I shook her hand firmly.
Heading to the paper, I ran into Walt, "I'm still not sure I did the right thing," I said. "I like Eva so much. She would make a fine newspaper publisher."
Before he could respond, I continued. "But maybe she can still buy the paper if she gets elected mayor. Green's small enough that the job is really more part time than full time. For heaven's sake, Mayor Oscar was a barber on the side."
"You did the best you could," Walt said. "Quit worrying about it. It'll work out."
One way or the other, I had not sold the paper. I also had left the Asheville paper hanging. "I halfway hope they will beg me to take the job," I told Marti on the phone. "And I halfway hope they'll hire someone else."
I started taking walks in the evening, trying to sort things out in my mind. I needed fresh air and time to think.
When I first moved out to Route 2, the pitch-black, country darkness scared me. Everything seemed so spooky. I half expected something to jump out of the bushes. Over the months, I became familiar with the road. I would take my flashlight and strike out. These walks were intended to be brisk aerobic exercise for my over-stressed body, but they wound up being strolls where I kicked rocks and enjoyed the stars.
As Thanksgiving approached, something new seeped into my soul on these treks-peace.
"Thanks for that, God," I said, looking up at the night sky. "This is a little hard to believe, but I might actually get it. I get that you're speaking to me through all of this. I really do need you in my life. It just took me awhile to figure that out. Thanks."
I couldn't quite get over how people prayed for me, talked about depending on God, and were certain that God had important work for me to do. They didn't preach at me. They just laid it out there for me to take.
Sometimes I walked down toward Pastor Jean's church at night, stopping for a drink of water and a brief visit. "I've been thinking about my mother," I said one night. "How much her faith meant to her. I'd climb out of bed in the mornings and climb into her lap. She'd be reading her Bible, always, every morning. She always went to church. Always gave thanks for the blessings God had given us."
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I paused and looked at jean, who sat patiently. "I'm not sure how this will play out, but I've got to try to pray something a little deeper than `help.' And I'm ready to come back to church."
"We'll be glad to have you, Lois."
One night as I set out from my house, Chris pulled up in his pickup with his three dogs, bringing a cake his mother had made me in appreciation for rescuing Mannix. I put it in the kitchen.
"Would you like to take my nightly walk with me?" I asked. He looked taken aback and then quickly recovered.
"Sure. That'd be great. Can the mutts come along?"
I felt more at ease that night than I had since long before the controversies with Major and Lee Roy and the McCullers had erupted. The dogs were busy the entire time, dashing into bushes and barking or running ahead. I had never exchanged more than a few sentences with Chris, and he turned out to be both funny and thoughtful.
"I'm sorry I never got to any of your games," I said, embarrassed.
"Oh, no problem," he said with a big smile. "Next year you can watch us win state. Those fighting Green Rabbits are pretty tough."
"They must love you," I said. "I noticed how close you all were at the downtown social. You probably keep them in line but still have fun."
"They're great kids, mostly. Lots of them don't get much attention at home. They have to keep their grades up to stay on the team, so that helps."
"Do any of them get kicked off?"
"Not if I can help it," he said, pausing to pat all three dogs that had run back to check on us. "They're young, deserve another chance. As my mama would say, they haven't made it over fool's hill yet."
He rubbed his shoulder absently. "The other day a guy with a sprained ankle was having a contest to see who could jump farther in the locker room using his crutches. Just before I stopped the challenge, I decided it was a teachable moment. I won, but it sure made my arms sore."
I laughed.
"I bet you'll have a great season next year," I said. "Iris says most of your starters will be back." It made me sad to realize I would not be there to see a game.
As we got back to the house, I grabbed a couple of bottles of water and cut the cake. We sat in the porch swing and visited for an hour more, talking about the new fence he had put up to keep Mannix, Markey, and Kramer under control, speculating on the route for the proposed highway and debating who would win the mayor's race.
"Let's do this again," he said. I smiled and waved when he drove off.
Our friendship developed slowly that next month. We walked together many evenings, and occasionally he called.
"What do you think about the paper starting a college scholarship fund in Matt's memory?" I asked one night.
"He was a great boy," Chris said. "That would be a nice way to honor him and Iris Jo."
"I also want to see if I can help Katy get to college, instead of beauty school," I said. "She's got the makings of a great journalist. I don't want her to spend her life doing the wrong thing, just because it seemed easy when she was sixteen."
One evening we sat close in the porch swing, both wearing sweatshirts on the chilly night.
"I'm thinking of a big children's Christmas party at the country club," I said. "For all of the low-income kids near downtown. That could be a way to introduce them to something special and to let the town see diversity in action."
"You are amazing," he said. "Just plain amazing. That brain of yours is always working. You are something." And he reached out and gave my hand a squeeze.
His support helped as I tried to move beyond bad things that had happened.
"The Lee Roys and the Big Boys of the world are nothing compared to the Helens and the Jeans and the Katys," I said. "And the Chris's." I thought about my first dinner with Eva, who had just made the runoff election for mayor, and how she had told me that we must do something with what we are given.
"Katy loves the notion of being a crusader. I wonder how I might spend my life crusading for good-and if I have the energy to do that."
"Sure you do," Chris said, draping his arm around my shoulders. "You're doing it already with The News-Item. You have your own little army down there. Those folks would do anything for you."
He was a bit in awe of the newspaper business but didn't hesitate to tell me when he disagreed with something the paper had done. "I do wish, though, you could crusade for a little more school sports coverage."
Sometimes when other people wanted to talk about the paper, I tried to change the subject, knowing I could be defensive. But Chris was different. He praised and criticized and asked questions in a straightforward way.
I certainly admired his work as a teacher.
"I'd be in the federal penitentiary if I had to stay in a classroom all day with those kids," I said. "How do you do it?"
I was joking, but he took the question seriously. "I just feel called to do it. I like those kids, and I hope most of them like me. It's good work, the Lord's work. After Fran died, I realized how important it was to do something that mattered with my life."
We had not spoken about his wife, and the little I knew about her came from iris Jo. She grew up nearby, also taught at the high school, and fought her cancer fiercely. At some level I wanted to ask questions and complete the picture that had formed in my mind. On the other hand, I wanted to keep their marriage separate from my friendship with Chris.
"I'm really beat tonight," I said. "Thanks for the company, but I need to get up early in the morning."
"Me too." He seemed as uncomfortable talking about his wife as I was. He stood up and gave me a peck on the cheek. "I'll say good night then."
"Good night."
As he took long strides across the yard, I practically ran into the house.
The next evening when I left the office, it was dark and I was alone. I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye, and for a moment I thought it was Chris. Once in a while he would stop by the paper, usually to drop something off for Iris Jo or to talk to Tom about a football story. I was uncomfortable with the way I had rushed him off last night, and I thought he might have picked up on it.
As I turned with a smile, I realized it was not Chris, but Lee Roy Hicks with a sneer on his face. My heart immediately began to race. I felt so safe in Green that I never took any of the precautions I had taken in Dayton. I fumbled for my keys and my cell, knowing my pepper spray was on the kitchen counter at home.
"Lee Roy!" I said in a shrill tone. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, Miss High and Mighty, I thought I would drop by to tell you hello and say thanks for ruining my life." He stepped closer to me, and I backed up, until I was pushed up against my car, with his body nearly touching mine.
"You shouldn't be here," I said.
He looked around. "Come in here and act like you can take over this town. Where's all them friends of yours now?"
He was rambling, and I could smell liquor on his breath.
"Lee Roy, you don't want to do this," I said. "Go home and sleep it off. We can talk about this in the morning."
"Maybe I want to talk about it now. Everything was going great until you came along, sticking your nose in everybody's business, stirring things up at the country club, letting high school kids sell advertising, like it was some menial job. This was supposed to be my paper." His voice got louder. "My paper. The McCullers promised it to me, not some city girl who didn't know squat about Green, Louisiana."
Although terrified, I felt sorry for him. As Aunt Helen would say, he had squandered his talents. He was smart and well-liked and ambitious. He probably could have run the paper or been mayor or any one of a dozen other things if he hadn't been such a louse. But this louse had me pinned up against a car, and I needed to do something.
Using a move my brothers taught me when I went off to college, I kneed him as hard as I could. He groaned and grabbed at his crotch and stumbled back, before falling to the ground, stunned.
At that moment, Rose walked ou
t of the Holey Moley and squinted my way as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Lois, is that you over there?"
"Oh, thank you, God. Yes, Rose, it's me. Please call the police. Quick!"
Within a few minutes, the parking lot was full of people. "It's going to be all right," Rose said, touching my arm. "Everything's fine now. We're here."
A police officer put a handcuffed, mumbling Lee Roy into a squad car. "She won't get away with this," my attacker muttered.
Stan pulled in from one direction, and Iris Jo and Chris from another. All of them rushed up, looking terrified. Chris gave me a big hug and kept his arm around me. "Are you all right?"
Feeling a bit dazed, I assured everyone I was fine. "Where did you all come from?" I asked. "What are you doing here?"
Come to find out, Helen's friend had heard the call on the police scanner. She had phoned Iris Jo, who had called Chris and Stan. Within a few minutes, Linda appeared, alerted by Rose, followed closely by Tammy, who had heard it from her former brother-in-law, who was a Bouef Parish Sheriff's Deputy. Alex and Tom popped up after receiving a call from the clerk at the police station. I figured it would only be a matter of minutes before Katy and her mother drove up.
I looked around and, suddenly, smiled the biggest smile I had ever smiled.
"Supper's on me at the Cotton Boll," I said.
19
For the first time in twenty years, Green Missionary Baptist Church soloist Mary Lee Bryan will be unable to participate in this year's performance of Handel's Messiah, following the district football finals during which she lost her voice while cheering for the home team from the sidelines. Get well, Mary Lee! And Hallelujah to the Green High Rabbits!
-The Green News-Item
Kevin came to visit, close to despair.
"What are we going to do?" she asked. "These sorts of living conditions cannot go on. We must do something. We've put this off as long as we can."
She was responding to an upsetting news story about a house fire in the Lakeside Annex. A space heater exploded, and two children and their mother had died of smoke inhalation. A baby and elderly grandfather had survived, but were in critical condition. There were no smoke detectors in the house.
Gone to Green Page 16
