Brimstone

by Tamara Thorne

The first thing Delilah did was find her a new outfit, a sunny white sailor dress with navy piping and stars on the collar. She had her try it on, then told the clerk Holly would be wearing it and to throw out Holly’s too-small dress. Holly was shocked but thrilled.

  Then came more clothes; dresses, shirts, shorts, pants, socks, even underwear and a light jacket.

  Next, they went in a shoe store and Holly came out with new tennis shoes - two pair; one for hiking and playing, the other for indoors - as well as white sandals, and shiny patent leather Mary Janes. She’d never even imagined having so many shoes. In another shop, Delilah got her a pair of fuzzy slippers, lavender pajamas with dainty flowers embroidered on the collar - she’d always worn T-shirts to bed - and a fuzzy purple chenille robe that was nicer than Cherry’s. Delilah didn’t ask what colors she wanted, but that didn’t matter because Holly loved purple as much as her grandmother did.

  As they shopped, Delilah talked a little more, telling her about the clothes she’d worn as a girl living in Boston. After that, they went in a beauty shop and had manicures. Holly loved the clear polish on her nails and hoped someday to have color like Delilah’s. Her grandmother’s nails looked sheathed in crimson glass.

  When they came out of the salon Max was there, leaning against the Phantom. Holly glanced at Delilah in surprise and her grandmother smiled. “I always get my hair or nails done last, Holly. Max knows to bring the car around.” Then she added, “Next time, we’ll have our hair done.”

  “Next time?” Holly asked as they approached the car.

  “Yes. You can’t go around looking like a poor relation while you’re visiting.”

  Poor relation. Instantly, Holly thought of Adeline, but knew better than to bring her up. Instead, she said, “Thank you, Miss Delilah. I love all my new things.”

  “You’re welc-”

  Cherry walked out of a dress shop a few doors down, her arms full of shopping bags. A tall man followed her, also bearing bags. Cherry looked up and down the street and her mouth dropped open when she saw them. She said something to the man and the two walked briskly in the opposite direction. A moment later, a black Chevy Malibu peeled out.

  “I see Charlotte has found herself a sugar-daddy.”

  Holly answered without thinking. “She always goes shopping when she gets a job. That man is probably an actor or something.”

  Delilah looked down at her and sighed. “That girl never could hold onto a red penny. Come, Holly, let’s get back to Brimstone.”

  Max put their bags in the trunk then helped them into the car.

  When they were most of the way back, Delilah asked, “Holly, do you like root beer floats?”

  “I love them!”

  “Max?”

  “Yes, Miss Delilah?”

  “When we get back to Brimstone, pull over at Gower’s Drugs on Main.” She looked at Holly. “There’s nothing better than something cold after a long day shopping, is there?”

  Holly had never had a long day shopping before, but she nodded. She couldn’t imagine it wasn’t true.

  “That old bag of bones!” Cherry Devine lit a cigarette while Rod Stone, one of her co-stars, drove her back to her car.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong is my damned mother is a bitch!”

  “She is? What? Why?” He looked eager for dirt.

  “Didn’t you see them, with those shopping bags? Delilah’s been spending money on my kid. She’s stealing her from me! She’s buying her.”

  “You have a daughter?” Rod grinned. “With a figure like that?”

  Cherry, pissed that she’d slipped up and said she had a kid, batted her lashes. “Thanks. She’s my step kid - her father skipped out and left me to raise her.” It was a lie she often told and it always worked. “Anyway, my mother is a total cunt.”

  “Cherry Devine,” Rod mused. “She isn’t Delilah Devine, is she? That old movie star?”

  “Yeah, and she still thinks she’s as big as shit on a hot tin roof.” Cherry lit a smoke. “But she’s washed up. Has been for years. That’s why she’s out here in the boonies. To hide her wrinkles.”

  “Violet Morne,” Rod said. “That was her. I saw that. It was pretty good.”

  “Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?” Cherry said it with a smile, so he’d think she was joking.

  “Or what?”

  “Or I won’t go back to your motel with you.” She batted her lashes. “Our chemistry-”

  “Is great,” Rod finished. “I knew a chick a couple years ago who would only screw on camera. She really got hot being watched, but never touched a dick otherwise.”

  Cherry laughed. “What’d she do? Eat pussy?”

  “Nope, only fucked on camera. She dried up like a raisin as soon the director yelled cut.”

  “She still making movies?”

  “No, she went down to Mexico on a shoot. Got herself murdered.”

  “Too bad.” Cherry grabbed her purse as they pulled up beside the Falcon. “So, you wanna get something to eat, Rod? I could eat a horse. That was quite a workout, today.” She winked at him.

  “Pete Hoden’s a hell of a director. He makes us work hard. I’m starving, too.”

  She nodded and got out. “Let’s drop my car at your motel and go for dinner and drinks. Lots of drinks.”

  “You’re on. Maybe we can bring a bottle back to the room, too.”

  “Sure. Say, you married?”

  “Does that matter?”

  “No, just wondered.”

  “I’m single.”

  “Got any kids?”

  “Does that matter?”

  “Yeah, it does. Got any?”

  “Not a single one.”

  Cherry unlocked her car. “Good. I’ll follow you.”

  17

  At Gower’s Drugs

  The massive soda fountain in Gower’s Drugs gleamed silver behind the shining counter as Delilah and Holly sat on tufted green stools. A cute teenage boy wearing a white apron and a matching garrison cap set at a jaunty angle on his sandy brown hair approached. “May I help you ladies?” He smiled, his blue eyes lighting first on Delilah, then on Holly. His name tag - embroidered red on his white apron - said “Eddie.”

  “Two root beer floats, please, young man,” Delilah said. “And make sure the glasses are well frosted first. We don’t mind waiting.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” He winked at Holly and her stomach filled with butterflies. Then, Eddie turned and Holly saw he had a short neat ponytail hanging over his collar. He’s a hippie! She had never gotten to meet one before, and he sure didn’t look gross and dirty like Cherry always said they were.

  “He’s got a ponytail,” she told her grandmother.

  “So he does. It’s nice that Ben doesn’t make him cut it off to work here.”

  Holly looked at Delilah, wonder in her eyes. “You don’t hate it?”

  Delilah chuckled. “Why should I? Fashions change, you know.”

  “Really? But it means he’s a hippie.”

  “My dear girl.” Delilah caught her in her gaze. “He’s clean, polite, and holding down a job. His eyes are clear. Obviously, if he is a hippie, he’s not the sort of hippie you’re thinking of.” She studied Holly. “What do you know about hippies, anyway?”

  She hesitated. “Cherry says they’re dirty and diseased.”

  “I’m sure that’s true of some. But I think your mother is simply intimidated by the younger generation; she doesn’t fit in with them and she’s uncomfortable with her age.” Delilah laughed. “I doubt she’ll ever understand that one cannot halt time.”

  “What?”

  An elderly man, wearing an apron and white pointed cap like Eddie’s appeared, his gaunt face turning into an embroidery of pleasant wrinkles when he saw them. “Why Miss Devine, I haven’t seen you in … well, I don’t know how long - since the Fourth of July parade in ‘66. You haven’t aged a day.”

  Delilah smiled through her veil. “You’re a liar, Be
n Gower.”

  “Why Miss Devine-”

  She laughed. “Delilah. And I adore you for it.”

  “And who’s this little lady?” He turned his old blue eyes on Holly and stared hard at her before glancing back at Delilah. “I must say, she reminds me of your sister, Carrie.”

  “The spitting image,” Delilah responded. “This is Holly, my granddaughter.”

  “Ah, no funning me, Delilah. You’re not old enough to have a granddaughter. Holly must be your youngest girl.” He put out his hand. “I’m charmed to make your acquaintance, little lady.”

  Holly shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Mr.-”

  “Ben, honey. Just Ben.”

  “Ben.” Holly wanted to ask him how old he was but knew it wouldn’t be polite.

  “What will it be today, ladies?”

  “Your assistant already took our order,” Delilah said.

  “Very good. You know, Delilah, Holly also takes after Adeline Chance, too. “She has that same golden fleck as Carrie and Adeline.” He studied her. “Why, little lady, you have gold dust in both your eyes, don’t you! Isn’t that something!” He paused. “Delilah? Is something wrong?”

  Delilah was studying her gloved hands. “Sore subject, Ben. Let’s change it, shall we?”

  He didn’t miss a beat “Did you hear about the ruckus at the last town council meeting?”

  “No, I haven’t, Ben. Enlighten me.”

  “Well, it seems Billy Capstone - you know, Brimstone Billy from the market - thinks he’d make a better mayor than Tom Stuffenphepper. Seems he had a bunch of supporters in the audience, so Tom’s wife corralled a group of her husband’s voters and brought them along, too.”

  Delilah chuckled.

  “Edna Garrett,” Ben continued, “told me they nearly came to blows, right there in the meeting room of the Baptist church. Pastor Johnson broke it up by invoking his heavenly Boss, but it wasn’t easy and he got a black eye for it.” Ben looked up. “Well, there’s my number one employee!”

  Eddie placed a paper doily in front of Delilah, set a tall root beer float on it, then did the same for Holly. He drew two long-handled silver spoons and two straws from his apron pocket and set them on their napkins. “Ladies, may I get you anything else?”

  “This is perfect, young man,” Delilah said. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Eddie,” echoed Holly, all eyes.

  “Good lad,” muttered Ben Gower as Eddie left to serve new customers at the far end of the counter. “I’m going to miss young Mr. Fortune when he goes back to school in September. At least he’ll still be working after school and weekends. Best worker - and the youngest - I’ve ever had. And you, Holly. Will you be attending school here this fall?”

  Without glancing at her grandmother, Holly said, “I hope so!” as quickly as she dared. Delilah might be a little stiff, but she was liking her more and more - she was way more open-minded than Cherry and she appreciated nice cars. She didn’t want to go back to Van Nuys, to keeping her mother’s crappy apartment clean and listening to Cherry and her boyfriends making noise and drinking at all hours. “Never again.”

  “What’s that, Holly?” Delilah’s spoon was poised above the foamy float. “Never again? What do you mean? You don’t like school?”

  Ben nodded at them and headed off to serve new customers.

  “Oh, no. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  “That may well be, but what did you mean?”

  Holly looked her in the eye. “I don’t ever want to go back to Van Nuys. I love it here.”

  “You haven’t been here long enough to know that.”

  Holly said nothing. She did know; she knew for sure, but her grandmother wouldn’t understand that, and probably didn’t want her around anyway.

  “Holly, your mother isn’t likely to stick around for very long.”

  “I know.” Holly set her spoon down, appetite gone.

  “Perhaps when she leaves, you might stay on for a while.”

  Holly looked up, daring to hope. “Really?”

  “If she insists you go with her, I can’t do a thing about it.”

  “But if she says I can stay, you’d let me?”

  “Perhaps for a semester. As long as you behave and do well in school.”

  “I always do well in school,” Holly said. “And I behave. Well, mostly.”

  Delilah chuckled. “Mostly. You’re an honest girl. Now, enjoy your float while it’s nice and cold.”

  Holly did and it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. The root beer was sharp and tangy and sweet, and the ice cream, thick and rich.

  “How are we doing?” Ben approached when they were nearly finished. “Do you ladies want Eddie to bring you anything else?”

  “I’ve put on five pounds just sitting here, but perhaps Holly would like something more?”

  “No thank you. I’m full, too, and I want my mouth to taste like root beer and vanilla for the rest of the day.”

  “You’re welcome back anytime, Holly, with or without your beautiful grandmother.” Ben gave Delilah a watery blink. “But I hope you bring her along! She’s quite the lady, you know.”

  “I know.”

  Holly saw Delilah’s blush, even through the thin netting.

  Back in the Phantom, Holly looked at Delilah. “Can I ask a question?”

  “May I ask a question.”

  “May I?”

  “You may.”

  “How old is Ben?”

  “Why, he must be pushing eighty by now. He was just a boy when the disaster happened.”

  “Disaster? What happened?”

  “There was some kind of natural disaster. A lot of people died quite horribly. It was before my time.”

  “Miss Delilah,” Max called, revealing a fine British accent. “We need petrol. Do you mind if I stop at the Humble station?”

  Delilah sighed. “Please try to remember gasoline sooner next time Max. Yes, stop, but be quick about it.”

  Holly, full of questions, kept her mouth shut. She couldn’t let Delilah find out about her talk with Adeline. Not yet, at least. “Everybody died?” she prompted. “Please tell me what happened.” Fuzzy dreams from the night before nibbled at her memory.

  “You have a morbid streak, young lady. Do you really want to hear this?”

  Holly nodded. “I do.”

  “Very well. I believe it was around the turn of the century and Ben Gower was about your age. He was working as a delivery boy and was sent to the Clementine Hospital and found everyone dead inside. Doctors, patients, everyone. A gas leak, they thought. My grandfather and father weren’t there that day, or they’d have died, too. That’s all I know.”

  The bell dinged as Max pulled up to the pumps. Holly craned her neck to see past Delilah as Ike Chance came out to wait on them. He spoke with Max then filled the car.

  “Want those windows washed? Tires, oil, or water checked?” he called as he returned to the driver’s door.

  “No, thank you,” Max said. “I prefer to do those things myself.”

  “Very well, that will be four dollars and twenty-four cents.”

  Max counted out the money and handed it over. Then Ike leaned into the long window behind him and smiled at Holly. “Hello, little lady! Are you all recovered from the quake yesterday?”

  “Yes.” Holly was afraid to say more in front of her grandmother.

  His eyes shifted to Delilah. “Miss Delilah. Adeline sends her regards.”

  Delilah gave a curt nod.

  “Well, you folks have a nice evening.” Ike tipped his cap and headed back into the station as Max pulled onto the road.

  “Holly, have you met that man before? He seemed to know you.”

  “Yes, Miss Delilah. Yesterday, when Cherry was buying gas. We were there when the earthquake happened.”

  “Did you meet Mrs. Chance?”

  Holly almost lied, then decided that would be a stupid thing to do. “Yes, I did. I was buying us sodas when it
happened.”

  “What did you think of her?”

  “She seemed nice.” Holly was going to leave it at that, but her mouth had a mind of its own. “She had gold in her eye, too. Like Ben Gower said.”

  Long seconds passed before Delilah spoke. “It’s not unusual. My grandfather and my older sister both had it. You take after Carrie quite a bit. Remind me to show you her picture.”

  “I’d love that!” Holly screwed up her nerve and put on her most innocent face. “Miss Delilah? Is that lady at the gas station related to us? You know, because of her eye?”

  Delilah cleared her throat. “Distantly.”

  “How?”

  “Adeline Chance is a cousin, but she’s not a nice person. I must insist you avoid her.”

  “But …” Holly let the word trail off. “Okay.” As they drove up Hospital Hill, she imagined Ben Gower as a delivery boy walking up to the doors of the Clementine Hospital, maybe with a telegram, or flowers, or medicine, stepping inside, and seeing all the dead people. She flashed on her faded nightmare, not quite knowing why, and wondered if the people were bloody, with their eyes bugging out and their throats slit. Probably not if it was a natural disaster. Then she wondered if there was a fire. “Miss Delilah, you said it was a gas leak? Do you know what happened? Was there an explosion?”

  Delilah arched an eyebrow. “Holly, where do you get this morbid streak?”

  “I’m just really curious.” She gave Delilah her most disarming smile. “I like to investigate stuff. When I grow up, maybe I’ll be a detective like Columbo or a spy like The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Or-” She stopped, realizing she had motor mouth. “Anyway, Miss Delilah, I don’t think it’s morbid to want to know about history. Do you?”

  “I suppose not. It happened years before I was born. As far as I know, there was only a gas leak, no explosion. If you really want to know, you could go to the library.” Delilah paused. “Or better, ask Steve Cross. He knows a lot more about the town than I do. Have a chat with him when there aren’t any guests around.”

  She smiled, happy to have an excuse to talk to the handsome night manager. “Yes, Miss Delilah. I sure will.”