by Amy Harmon
He headed home, checking to make sure his momma had made it in the night before and that Billy was okay. Billy had made himself a big sandwich and was reading the business section of the Texas Times when Johnny walked in the front door. Johnny was good at math, and he could fix almost anything, but he had never sat down and read the newspaper like his little brother or poured over books at the library like they held the secrets of the universe. Billy was smart, and if Johnny looked out for him and made sure Momma stayed out of trouble, Billy could grow up to be somebody important one day. He could go to college, see the world, make something of himself. That’s what Johnny wanted more than anything.
“Are you just getting home?” Billy’s eyes were wide behind his thick glasses. “Peggy’s old man is going to kill you!” Peggy’s father was a deputy for the Honeyville Police Department, and he really didn’t like Johnny very much. He also didn’t like the fact that his daughter attracted boys like flies.
“Carter took Peggy home, so if anybody is going to die, it’ll be him,” Johnny smiled at his little brother as he took a swig straight out of the big glass bottle of orange juice on the top shelf of the fridge. He pulled out a couple of eggs and proceeded to scramble them up, his mind on the reason he hadn’t taken Peggy home.
“Is Momma here?” he asked Billy after a while.
Billy glanced up, nodding his head. “Yep. I stayed up until she got in last night, though.” Billy looked down at his paper as if trying to decide to tattle on his mother. “She was with the mayor again. It was his car she got out of, unless she and Mrs. Carlton have suddenly become friendly.”
Johnny swore under his breath and shook his head in disgust. He didn’t need this shit, not today of all days. Lord, save him from beautiful women and their shenanigans. He had one girl who couldn’t stay put and another who just couldn’t seem to stay away. Too bad it wasn’t the other way around.
“Is she asleep?”
“No. I think she’s hiding. She knows I saw her. I think she’s hoping I don’t tell you.”
“Yeah, I just bet she does.” Johnny and his momma had argued a time or two about her choice in men.
“So.....why are you just getting in?” Billy had abandoned the business section altogether and seemed anxious to change the subject. That was Billy, always the peace-maker. Johnny let the issue of Momma’s men drop for now. He’d deal with it later.
“I went to the rez, turned on my music, ended up sleeping out there. It was nice.” It had been more than nice. It had been the best damn night of his life. He felt the ache punch him low in the belly again, and reconsidered whether he could actually eat the omelet he was frying up. Where had that girl gone? He couldn’t just assume she was all right.
Billy kept the conversation moving. “I went down to the corner store this morning, picked up my paper, and got Momma some coffee. We were all out. Mr. McNinch said somebody took the Honeycutts’ housekeeper’s car last night. He said the cops were everywhere. They found it, though. He said Mary Smith, the housekeeper, had come in just before me and was relieved to have it back.”
Johnny froze, his spatula hanging in mid-air as he tuned into his little brother’s account. A car theft in Honeyville was big news, and it didn’t surprise him that everyone knew about it already. Mr. McNinch, owner of the little corner grocery, was as bad as an old woman when it came to gossip. If you wanted to know anything, all you had to do was engage him in a little conversation, and you knew who was doing what in a minute flat. But it was the mention of the Honeycutts that had reminded him of something. Maggie had mentioned Lizzie Honeycutt several times the night before. He finished his eggs without tasting them and was out of the house, showered and shaved, within a half hour. He was going to find Maggie.
Johnny didn’t know how he was going to get an audience with Lizzie Honeycutt. The girl could only be ten or eleven at the most. He plotted and brooded, and finally just swung his car into the drive and figured he’d wing it. It turned out he’d stewed and worried for nothing. Lizzie Honeycutt sat on the front porch swing eating an ice cream bar like she didn’t have a care in the world. There wasn’t another soul in sight. Johnny hoped Mrs. Smith wasn’t looking out the window, ready to chase him away with a broom. If she came out on the porch, he’d just ask her if Mr. Honeycutt wanted him to take his vehicle to Gene’s for a tune-up. He’d picked up Jackson Honeycutt’s Buick before, so it shouldn’t make her too suspicious.
The girl was slumped down, lazily pushing the swing with the pink painted toes of one bare foot, her other leg folded beneath her. Her eyes widened, and she ceased licking and swinging as she watched him get out of his car and stride up to the porch.
“It’s gonna drip if you don’t get to it.” Johnny smiled down at the little girl who bore an obvious resemblance to both Irene.....and Maggie. The wide, sky-blue eyes were something they all shared. Seems Maggie hadn’t been fibbing when she had said they were family. Still, he would bet his life that Irene Honeycutt had never met Maggie before the confrontation in the parking lot of The Malt the night before. She had looked at Maggie like she was a total stranger. And a crazy one at that.
“Can I sit?” Johnny asked politely. Lizzie Honeycutt scootched to her right, pulling her leg out from underneath her, leaving a space plenty wide for Johnny to sit comfortably beside her.
“I bought another. The Good Humor man let me have two for the price of one since I’m such a loyal customer. I actually think he was trying to get rid of me ‘cause I couldn’t make up my mind. Would you like it?” Lizzie Honeycutt raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“No, thanks,” Johnny replied, although the ice cream looked pretty good. He didn’t want Lizzie running back into the house and alerting the housekeeper that they had company.
“Thank goodness!” Lizzie sighed gratefully. “I was just tryin’ to be polite, anyway. I didn’t want to share.” Her smile flashed, and her eyes twinkled, and Johnny saw Maggie all over again. They were firecrackers, both of them.
“So....” Lizzie said, after taking a long lick up the side of the shrinking chocolate wedge. “Are you in love with Maggie?”
Johnny choked a little, and she reached over and patted his back, dripping a little ice cream on his shirt as she did.
“Oops, sorry,” Lizzie grimaced and started licking in earnest, ready to be done with the mess.
“I was wondering if you’d seen Maggie this morning.”
Maggie stopped licking once more and eyed Johnny with indecision.
“I’m a little worried about her, you see.” Johnny didn’t think it was appropriate to tell the little girl that he and Maggie had slept on a blanket under the stars, and his voice faded off awkwardly, trying to think of a way to word his question without giving too much away.
“Is she gone, then?” Lizzie asked, her mouth turned down in a slight frown.
“I don’t know,” Johnny answered carefully. “We had a picnic out at the reservoir after the dance. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, she was gone. But her shoes were still there.”
“Oh.” Lizzie nodded, as if her question had been satisfied. She finished off her ice cream and proceeded to lick her fingers clean.
“So do you know where she is?” Johnny was really trying not to get impatient, but so far he had gotten exactly nowhere. He wondered if Lizzie Honeycutt was good at chess.
“She probably went back,” Lizzie dutifully protected her queen.
“Back where?” Johnny leaned toward the little girl and stared hard until she turned her head and caught him looking. She blushed a little, and her hands dropped to her lap.
“It’s hard to explain,” Lizzie mumbled. She licked at a spot she had apparently missed. She offered nothing more.
Johnny tried again. “I need to know if she’s okay, Lizzie. If you know something, I would appreciate you telling me. Obviously you know something, or you wouldn’t have known why I was here.”
“I thought maybe she sent you....so I wouldn’t worry about her,” L
izzie answered softly. “I knew she couldn’t come home because the police brought the car back. Nana is very suspicious of her now, too.”
“Wait...Irene didn’t tell you Maggie was with me?” Johnny’s head began to spin. “Then how did you know?”
“Irene didn’t come home last night. She slept over at the Russell’s with Cathy and Shirley. I didn’t know, not until you got here. I was hoping, though. After all, you’re the reason Maggie went to the dance in the first place.”
Johnny felt the hairs stand up on his arms and neck, and his face must have conveyed his astonishment, because Lizzie began speaking again without any prodding.
“She said she was in love with you.” Lizzie searched his expression, worry stamped across her small face.
Maggie had told Johnny she had come to the dance for him. But he had assumed she was coming on strong, letting him know she wanted him. But when he’d challenged her, her eyes had filled with tears, contradicting her forward display. He hadn’t known what to make of it then. He didn’t know what to make of it now.
“Do you know where I can find her, Lizzie? No more games, little girl.”
Lizzie Honeycutt folded her arms defensively, and Johnny thought maybe he’d been too blunt. She was obviously uncomfortable and had moved as far from him as she could. She answered his question with a finality that said she had said all she was going to say.
“No. She just kinda showed up, and I helped her. She couldn’t tell me some things. She tried, but it made her really dizzy and tired. She’s been here before. If she comes back, I’ll tell her you’re looking for her. I promise.”
Johnny thought of the way Maggie had clung to him after she had warned Irene to stay away from Roger Carlton, when she had asked him so sweetly if she could hold his hand. She had been shaking like a leaf, and she had held his hand like he was the only thing between her and hell’s fiery furnace.
Johnny got up off the swing and was about to walk down the front steps when Lizzie stopped him.
“Do you have her shoes with you?” she questioned hopefully.
Johnny nodded briefly.
“Can I have them, please? They’re Irene’s. She’s not gonna be too happy when she finds out her dress is gone. If I put back the shoes, maybe she won’t be so mad.”
Johnny laughed right out loud and shook his head in wonder. Maggie had had the gumption to walk right up to Irene Honeycutt and tell her to get a new guy while wearing her dress. He might just be a little in love after all, damn it.
“I’ve got ‘em.” He smiled at the little girl and turned again to walk to his car. At that moment, Irene Honeycutt decided to come home. She slid into the drive and flew past Johnny’s car, with barely an inch to spare between the two vehicles, making him flinch and cry out. She jerked to an uneven stop, and she and the two Russell sisters tumbled out of the pink Cadillac as if they couldn’t believe their eyes. Shirley, the youngest of the three, was the first to recover, and she smiled brightly and waggled her fingers at him.
“Hiya, Johnny,” she cooed. Cathy looked at her sharply and took a couple steps, shifting herself to a position in front of her younger sister.
“Yeah, hi Johnny!” Cathy offered, even more brightly. Shirley elbowed her sister out of the way and hurried to Johnny’s side.
“Did you have fun last night?” Shirley chirped, looping her arm through his. Johnny sidestepped the pretty brunette, gently extricating his arm.
Cathy tapped him on the shoulder. “We saw you dancing with that new girl. We were all just sooo surprised because she was wearing a dress just like the dress Irene was going to wear.”
“Oh, Irene, wouldn’t that have been awful if you’d both come in the same dress!” Shirley moaned, looking at her friend.
Irene tossed her head, as if the memory of the girl just made her angry. “She was so rude to me, Johnny Kinross!” Irene stomped her foot and crossed her arms, looking at Johnny like she blamed him for Maggie’s behavior. “Roger was so mad. He said he’s going to find her and put her in her place! Why the nerve! My dress looked nothing like hers. Hers was just a cheap imitation. I just hope she gets what’s coming to her!”
“Roger Carlton is a first-class jerk, Irene, and you would do well to heed the warning you were given. And if your precious Roger touches so much as a hair on that girl’s head, he’ll answer to me.” Johnny turned and strode to his car, the three girls huddled together in stunned silence. When he reached the Bel Air, he leaned inside and pulled out the red shoes Maggie had left behind.
“I think these belong to you, Irene.” He walked to where the girl stood, her mouth gaping, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. “In my mind, they’re pretty big shoes to fill. I don’t know if they’ll fit anymore.” Johnny turned on his heel, walked back to his car, and drove away.
~15~
A Time to Speak
Two hours later, Johnny was still driving around, trying to decide what to do. He had been back out to the reservoir and asked around, but no one had anything to offer. No one had seen a girl in a red prom dress wandering around the area, and everyone he talked to looked at him like maybe he was a little bit nuts when he had suggested it.
It was a perfect Sunday afternoon in May, and people were out and about enjoying the day. He saw people walking out of church, all dressed up, the women in hats, the kids done up in hair bows and bow ties. Two little boys raced down the street, loosening their ties as they ran, anxious to stretch their legs and be free of church for one more week. It reminded Johnny a little of him and Billy racing home the few times Momma had made them go. It had been a long time ago, when they weren’t much bigger than the little boys he’d just seen.
Momma had been a very faithful church goer for a while, until the young preacher at the church she had chosen up and married someone else. She had quit going right after that and they had never been back. When Johnny had asked her about it, she’d seemed sad and said God didn’t need people like her in his church. Johnny hadn’t known what she meant then, but he had thought about it since. Momma just never could get past her own pretty face. She always believed it was all she had to offer, and seemed lost when it wasn’t what some men wanted. He wondered if she had been born an ugly woman if it would have served her better in the end.
He drove past the police station and thought of Chief Bailey telling him to say hello to his Momma for him. Momma would never look twice at Chief Bailey, and if Bailey were a smart man, he wouldn’t spend any time looking at Momma. Johnny slowed and pulled into the station. Nobody should be here on a Sunday - so he was a little surprised to see a black and white in the empty parking lot. Well, speak of the devil. Chief Bailey pushed through the double doors on the front of the building and headed for his car at the same moment Johnny decided he had nothing to lose.
When Clark Bailey saw Johnny Kinross step out of his low-riding Bel Air, his step slowed and his eyes narrowed the slightest bit. Johnny Kinross was the last person Chief Bailey expected to see anywhere near the police station -- and on a Sunday afternoon to boot.
Johnny leaned back against his car and watched the Police Chief walk toward him.
“Mr. Kinross. What can I do for you, son?” Chief Bailey said cordially, extending his hand toward the young man as if he were an equal and didn’t have a reputation for being a hood.
“Chief.” Johnny clasped his hand and straightened up, looking the man in the eyes, taking his measure for a half a second. He hoped he didn’t regret this.
“I wanted to file a report, I guess. I’m not sure the person’s even missing, but if she is, and I don’t do anything about it, well....I’d feel terrible if she was in trouble.”
“How long’s your momma been gone?” Chief Bailey replied, concern flitting across his amiable face.
“No, um....Momma’s fine. It’s not her I’m here for.” Johnny shook his head.
“I see. Come on inside then, Johnny, and we’ll see what we can do. It’s too damn hot out already. By August this whole
town’s gonna be a big puddle; we’ll all have melted away. It’s way too hot too soon.”
Johnny followed Chief Bailey inside and felt a little of the relief the chief had promised, but he was too knotted up inside to be reassured by a little shade and a whirring fan.
“All right.” The chief sank down into his office chair and took out a pen and an official looking form. “Tell me who’s missing.”
“Her name is Maggie,” Johnny started, “and I’m gonna tell you some things that you aren’t gonna write on that paper there.” Johnny nodded his head toward the paper Chief Bailey’s pen was poised above. He stared at him until Chief Bailey sighed, threw the pen down, and sat back in his chair, tossing one leg up on the corner of his desk.
“How about we just talk for a minute, and then we’ll decide whether we need to fill out a form at all. Deal?” Chief Bailey offered, folding his hands in his lap. Johnny nodded his head in response and sat back in his own chair, slightly more comfortable.
“Her name’s Maggie.” Chief Bailey prodded him.
“Her name’s Maggie. I don’t have a last name. I know she’s related to the Honeycutts. She was with me last night at the dance. Do you remember her?”
Chief Bailey nodded and brought his linked hands up to rest them on his head. “I remember. Real pretty gal, dressed in red, right? I thought you were going to the dance with Wilkey’s daughter, so I was a little surprised to see you leave with someone else.”
Johnny didn’t come to gossip like the ladies gathered in front of the church a few blocks down, and he slowly raised one eyebrow at Chief Bailey. The chief smiled a little bit and liked the kid just that much more for his unwillingness to kiss and tell.
“All right, then. Keep going. You left the dance together. Then what?”
“We ended up at the reservoir. We danced and talked. The battery died in my car, so we couldn’t get help until the morning. We ended up falling asleep. When I woke up, she was gone, but her shoes were still there. I looked for her all morning, and I went back this afternoon. Nobody’s seen her, and I don’t know enough about her to know where else to look.”
