by Donis Casey
“Tastes herby. A bit like licorice.”
“Goes right up my nose.”
“It’s kind of nice,” Olivia admitted.
Martha took another sip, larger than the first one, and swished it around in her mouth before swallowing. “I declare, it’s making my tongue numb!”
“Mine too. I feel warm in my throat.”
“I’m getting a warm feeling in my chest. Are you feeling insane yet?”
“Can’t say as I am. But maybe I just don’t know it. Do you suppose insane folks know they’re insane?”
Martha’s next sip was more like a mouthful, and she didn’t bother to study the taste much before she swallowed it. “I doubt it. That’s one of the problems with being insane.”
Olivia slouched back in her chair. “I don’t feel much different. Just warmer.”
“It probably takes a while to get to your head.”
“It made my tongue numb right quick,” Olivia pointed out.
“Maybe drunks don’t know they’re drunk.”
“Do I seem drunk to you?”
“No.”
“You don’t to me, either.”
The conversation suddenly struck Martha as exceedingly odd. She pushed her glass away and stood up. “I think we’d better pour this out right now.”
Olivia blinked at her. “You don’t like it?”
“Yes, Cousin, I like it a lot. That’s what’s scaring the liver out of me.”
Martha’s alarm was infectious, and Olivia succumbed immediately. She leaped to her feet, grabbed Martha’s glass along with her own, and dashed what was left of their drinks into the sink, followed shortly by the remains of the bottle.
Olivia sat back down at the table once the offending liquid was safely down the drain. “Surely you can’t fall prey to it so quick,” she said. “Surely we were just enjoying the curiosity of it all.”
“I don’t intend to give myself another opportunity to find out,” Martha assured her.
***
When Martha got back to her aunt’s house, Alafair was tending the children, Lu was with Lester, and Ruth Ann had taken advantage of the break to get out of the house for a little while. Martha didn’t feel particularly affected by her few swallows of the demon drink, but she was wary enough of Alafair’s extraordinary perception that she was relieved not to have to do more than say hello when she first got back.
Not that I have to explain myself to my mother, she thought.
Olivia had gone to the warehouse to talk to Mike Ed Beams again, which took Martha aback. Alafair would never have spent four or five hours at a time apart from a four-month-old. But Olivia apparently had no such scruples, which was a new and intriguing concept for Martha. She unburdened Alafair of Grace and little Ron, allowing her mother to go back to Lester and the housekeeper to finish supper. She then spent the rest of the afternoon changing diapers, getting snacks, listening to stories, watching Grace dig a hole in the back garden while she restrained a very interested cat, all the while pondering her cousin’s problem.
***
Supper was another enormous affair. Martha had no intention of discussing Olivia’s concerns in front of her aunt, so she kept her counsel and joined in the discussion about the fair, the weather, and Uncle Lester’s condition.
Lu served up bean soup, an unusual spiced beef dish, mashed potatoes, scalloped onions, and some sort of strange vegetable called “parsnips,” which she had dredged in flour and fried. They had finished with an apple cornmeal pudding with a sweet, rich, cinnamony sauce, and hot tea with a sprig of peppermint in it.
They repaired to the parlor after supper, but after such a meal no one was in the mood for conversation and eventually retired to their rooms. Martha climbed to the top of the house and sat on the bed in her attic room for half an hour or so, until she was reasonably sure that her aunt was abed and Grace was taken care of. Then she slipped down the stairs to the second floor, tapped on her mother’s door, and entered without waiting for an invitation.
Grace was asleep in the big bed, and Alafair was sitting at the dresser in her nightgown, brushing her hair. Martha closed the door behind herself, and Alafair turned around on the stool to give her a curious look.
“What’s up, sugar?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute, Mama?”
“Of course, darlin’.” Alafair stood up and gestured to the two chairs nestled into the alcove formed by the small bay window. After they sat down, Martha began the conversation as innocuously as she could.
“That was some supper.”
Alafair smiled, willing to make small talk if that was Martha’s desire. “It certainly was. How do you figure these city folks can manage not to ruin their constitutions? They sit around all day and then eat like the Sultan of Araby at night. I don’t know how a body’s supposed to sleep with her stomach packed like a sausage. I expect to have wild dreams all night.”
“Doesn’t seem to have bothered Grace any.”
“No, she went out like somebody clonked her on the head.”
“How’d you get her to take off her new shoes?”
“I didn’t.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you’ve been letting her wear her shoes to bed?” Martha was shocked to her core.
“I just didn’t feel like fighting about it,” Alafair admitted. “I did scrub off the bottoms with soap and water, so as not to ruin Ruth Ann’s nice sheets.”
“You sure do let her get away with a lot more than you did me.”
Alafair heard the slightest hint of resentment in Martha’s tone, and she laughed. “I had a lot more energy when you older ones were little, but y’all have managed to suck most of it out of me by now.”
“So it’s our fault?”
“That’s how I’m telling it.”
Martha smiled and shook her head, then broached the subject she had come in to discuss. “Ma, I’m pretty worried about Olivia. She told me some things about Kenneth this afternoon that didn’t sit well at all. She’s afraid that he’s gotten himself into some mischief. She said he diverted some funds from the Transfer and Storage to buy a piece of land south of Garber to drop a test well.” She filled her mother in on Olivia’s fear that Kenneth had resorted to borrowing money from the evil Collins. “If she’s right,” she finished, “it sounds to me like Uncle Lester is all that’s standing between them and financial ruin. When he finally passes on, Olivia and Kenneth will inherit the business, and Olivia thinks this Collins will figure out a way to get it away from them, as well as the land and the oil well.”
As she listened to Martha’s story, Alafair grew concerned. “Yesterday afternoon, Uncle Lester was champing at the bit to tell me more or less the same tale.”
“Uncle Lester knows? I don’t think Olivia is aware her dad suspects that Kenneth may be mixed up with Collins. She said she didn’t want to worry him with it.”
“Well, he does know, but he thinks that he nipped Kenneth’s folly in the bud before he got around to approaching the Collins family for money. He bent Kenneth’s ear about it good a while ago, let him know that he was on to his shenanigans. I imagine that’s why Kenneth is bending his back to the plow so hard, lately—trying to get back in his father-in-law’s good graces. Lester told me that Kenneth promised he’d divest himself of his friend Ellery Collins, and as far as he knew, he did. Ellery left town to go back east last month, which Lester took to indicate that him and Kenneth are quits.”
“That’s what Olivia thought, Ma! It looks like Olivia and Uncle Lester have been trying to protect each other from the sad truth. If they’d confided in each other from the beginning, they’d probably both feel a lot better. You think it’d be all right if I told Olivia what Uncle Lester said to you?”
“I don’t know why not, things being as they are.”
“How much do you suspect Aunt Ruth Ann knows about Kenneth’s foolish ways?”
“Probably nothing, if the way she talks about Kenneth means anything. Ruth Ann is general
ly more than happy to be protected from unhappy facts.”
“Oh, I could strangle that Kenneth for putting Olivia and Uncle Lester through this. I hope he’s seen the light for good and all. I’m like to give him the benefit of my opinion when he finally gets home.”
Alafair’s gaze wandered off and for a few minutes she rocked in her rocking chair and stared at a gloomy corner across the room. Finally she stopped rocking and looked over at Martha. “Honey, has Olivia mentioned whether or not Kenneth has contacted her during this trip?”
“No, she mentioned particularly that he hasn’t.”
“Does she seem worried about him at all?”
“No, doesn’t seem to be. He’s not overdue by that much. What’re you thinking, Ma?”
Alafair shook her head. “Well, I’m thinking that Kenneth might not be coming home.”
Martha couldn’t restrain a gasp. “You think he’s scampered? Why on earth…?”
Alafair spoke over her. “Now, don’t you be breathing a word of this to Olivia or Ruth Ann. It’s just a hunch. A quiver in my innards. I fear Kenneth may have run afoul of Collins, or some other scoundrel, in spite of Lester’s warning, and has either run from his troubles or met with foul play.”
“You must have some reason for thinking so, Mama.”
An ironic look passed over Alafair’s face. “Not anything I want to be generally known, at least right now. Tell me, does Olivia know where Kenneth was supposed to be going on this trip, who exactly he was supposed to be calling on?”
Martha was a practical young woman, not at all given to belief in psychic powers. But she had seen enough evidence throughout her life to believe in her mother’s intuitive skills utterly. “She mentioned that he was going to Guymon, and a couple of other places I can’t remember right now. I expect she or Mike Ed or Uncle Lester knows who all he was supposed to call on. There’s probably a list somewhere, an itinerary.”
“Ask her about it. If Kenneth doesn’t show up tomorrow morning, suggest to her that she wire the places he was supposed to visit, see if he actually made it.”
“I’ll do it. And then what will we do if he didn’t?”
“Call out the law, of course.” She resumed her rocking and staring for a few minutes while Martha tried to come to grips with the situation.
“Well,” Martha finally ventured, “Olivia said she thinks Kenneth isn’t that interested in her daddy’s business, and really hates the icehouse and refrigerators. So he probably wouldn’t care that much if they had to sell it. But she thinks he loves that wildcat well. And I can’t see him doing anything that could lose him Olivia.”
Alafair sat bolt upright, suddenly feeling pretty icy herself. “Ruth Ann told me that Kenneth hates to be cold,” she remembered. “In fact, she said that was one reason he came down here from Michigan, to get away from the horrible cold winters.”
“What are you thinking, Mama?”
“See if Olivia can find out if Kenneth made it to Guymon, honey, and then I’ll know what to tell you.”
Thursday, September 16, 1915
Martha kept up a brisk pace down Maine, elbowing her way through the carnival crowds as she walked across the square on her way from the Western Union office to Aunt Ruth Ann’s, so distracted by her thoughts that she didn’t realize that she was being accompanied until she heard someone calling her name.
And how that was, she couldn’t imagine, because the noise from the motorcycle tailing her from the street was loud enough to wake Rip Van Winkle. She stopped walking and turned, and Streeter McCoy pulled up beside her and grinned from the seat of his brand-new Harley-Davidson Model 11-F three-speed twin.
“Good morning, Martha,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the engine idle. “My, you seem to be engrossed by something.”
She blinked at him, coming into the present. “Oh. Streeter. I forgot about your motorcycle race this morning. I reckon that’s what all the racket was. Rattled my teeth all the way over to Olivia’s house. How’d you do?”
“Came in third.” He shrugged, but didn’t look unhappy about it. “I’m entered in another race at one o’clock, if you’d like to take the opportunity to cheer me on.”
Martha eyed him before she replied. His sandy hair was hidden under a leather helmet. The unfastened chinstrap dangled loose, and a pair of goggles perched on top of his head. His face was gray with dust, except for the white, raccoon-like mask that circled his eyes where the goggles had protected them. He wore a grimy leather jacket and tan jodhpurs which were tucked into a pair of tall brown cowhide boots that laced all the way up the front. His hands gripped the handlebars and one booted foot was balanced on the ground. He was still grinning at her. “You’re a sight,” she observed. “Where’s the sidecar you usually have when you drive around Boynton?”
“It’s parked in the hotel stable until after the races. But I can hook it up fast if you’d like to take a ride.”
“Sorry, Streeter, but I’m busy with family right now. I need to get home. The situation with my aunt’s family just keeps getting more and more complicated.”
McCoy’s grin faded at her obvious distress, and he dismounted the cycle, dropped the kick bar, and stepped up on the curb next to her. “What’s the matter, Martha? Is there anything I can do to help?”
She looked up at him in silence for a moment, while she considered whether or not she wanted to involve him in this tangle. She was entirely torn. She had accompanied her mother to Enid specifically to get away from him, after all. But she did admire his sense, and the idea of being able to express her fears to a friend was appealing. Especially this friend.
She heaved a sigh and made her decision. “Oh, all right, Streeter. Actually, it may be a good thing that you turned up. I think my cousin may be in a fix, and I want to help her. But even worse, I’m afraid my mother is going to haul off and get herself into some pickle again. She has a habit of sniffing around where she isn’t welcome and running afoul of folks who want to do her harm. There’s no way to stop her once she gets to going, but maybe between the two of us, we can keep her out of trouble.”
“I’d be happy to do whatever I can. What seems to be the problem?”
“You know that Olivia’s husband Kenneth is supposed to be on a business trip to Guymon?”
“Yes.”
“He said he’d be back before the Founders’ Jubilee started, but he hasn’t turned up yet. Olivia wasn’t particularly worried, since he’s often a day or two off on his return from these trips, one way or the other. Well, my mother got a bee in her bonnet that something has happened to Kenneth…”
“What…” he attempted, but she cut him off with a look and continued.
“Ma suggested that I go over to Olivia’s today and get her to wire around to the places Kenneth had told her he was going to call on, and make sure that he had actually done it. Well, I humored her, because it’s hard to get Mama off a trail once she’s got a scent in her nostrils. I went with Olivia to Western Union just now, and she sent a wire to Kenneth’s contact in Guymon. And lo and behold, not only did he never show up, he never even made an appointment to show up in the first place. So she got panicky and telephoned all the other stops he had listed, and turns out he never made it to any of them. So now she’s out of her mind with worry, and this is just going to upset Aunt Ruth Ann and Uncle Lester no end. I’m on my way back to tell Mama that her hunch has stirred up a hornet’s nest good and proper. I told Olivia to call the police, but other than that, I don’t know what we can do to help her.” She shook her head. “To tell the truth, Olivia is more mad than worried. She thinks Kenneth is probably up to no good—bringing liquor in from Kansas or some such.”
“Why are you worried about what your mother might do?”
Martha chewed her lip for a second before she answered. “She didn’t say it right out loud, but I think she’s decided that Kenneth is dead.”
McCoy blinked at her. “How’d she decide that?”
“Who kn
ows how Mama decides anything? She makes these connections…I don’t know. But she told me that if we couldn’t scare Kenneth up, she’s going to go down to my uncle’s warehouse and ask the manager, Mr. Beams, to let her look inside the cold storage lockers.”
“What in the Sam Hill for?”
“I’m guessing she thinks Kenneth is in one of them.”
McCoy’s eyes widened and he laughed, which gave Martha an odd stab of resentment even though she rather agreed that the whole idea was ludicrous. “No matter what you think of it, she’s going to do it, and I’d just as soon she’d not go haring off by herself.” Martha spoke a little louder than she intended.
McCoy knew he’d made an error, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. He hastened to correct his attitude. “My goodness! This does sound worrisome. You’re right to go to the police. They can get in touch with the law out in the No-Man’s Land, ask for them to keep an eye out. I have a land office in Guymon. Just a part-time agent, covers most of Texas County. If I can have a list of places Kenneth has been known to go out there, I’ll send my man a telegram right away, have him ask around, see what he can turn up.”
He stepped back into the street and remounted his motorcycle. “Go on back to your aunt’s house, and I’ll come by after I get this done and we’ll decide what to do next.”
“Now, wait a minute.” Martha was plainly irritated at his attitude. “There’s no call for you to rush in like the cavalry and save us just yet.”
He paused with his foot on the starter, taken aback that she should see it that way.
She gauged the look on his face and relented just a little. “What I mean, Streeter, is that I’d appreciate it if you’d wire your agent in Guymon. Why don’t you go ahead to the Western Union office and send that telegram, then run your race like you intended? Are you going to be in your office later today?”
“I hadn’t planned on it. I gave Mr. Miller the day off. I expected to go back to the hotel after the races and get cleaned up.”
“Well, that’s good. If you’ll call on me later at Aunt Ruth Ann’s I’ll let you know what’s happening. If Ma really does decide to go to the warehouse, I’ll suggest to her that it might be useful if you went along.”
