Charles waited, confused. But when I disappeared in the darkness, he pulled away and the sleek limousine went on without me, its rear lights growing smaller and smaller until it was completely gone, and I was alone on the highway.
A year before I had left Houma thinking I was going home.
The truth was that right now I was returning to the only home I had ever known.
18
Why Me?
The tears streamed down my face faster and harder as I continued walking through the darkness. Cars and trucks rushed by me, some honking their horns, but I walked on and on until I came to a gas station. It was closed, but there was a telephone booth beside it. I dialed Beau's number and prayed with all my heart that Beau had talked his family into permitting him to stay in New Orleans. As the phone rang, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and caught my breath. Garton, the Andreas family butler, answered.
'May I speak with Beau, please, Garton?' I said quickly. 'I'm sorry, mademoiselle, but Monsieur Beau is not here,' he said.
'Do you know where he is or when he will return?' asked with desperation in my voice.
'He's on his way to the airport, mademoiselle.' 'Tonight? He's going away tonight?'
'No,' I said weakly. 'No message.
I cradled the receiver slowly and let my head fall against the phone. Beau was leaving before we had even had a chance to say goodbye. Why didn't he just run away and come to me? I asked myself but then realized how unreasonable and foolish such an act would have been. What good would it have done for him to give up his family and his future?
I sighed deeply and sat back. The dark clouds that had covered the moon slipped off and the pale white light illuminated the road, making it look like a trail of bones that led into yet deeper darkness. I had made a decision back there, I thought. There was nothing to do now but carry it out. I started to walk again.
The sound of a truck horn blaring behind me spun me around just as the driver of a tractor-trailer slowed it down to a stop. He leaned out the passenger-side window and gazed down at me.
'What in all tarnation are you doin' walking along this highway in the dead of night?' he demanded. 'Don't you know how dangerous that is?'
'I'm going home,' I said.
'And where's that?'
'Houma.'
He roared. 'You're planning on walking to Houma?'
'Yes sir,' I said in a sorrowful voice. The realization of just how many miles I had to go set in when he laughed at me.
'Well, you're in luck. I'm passing through Houma,' he said, and swung the door open. 'Git yourself up and in here. Come on,' he added, when I hesitated, 'fore I change my mind.'
I stepped up and into the truck and closed the door. 'Now how is it a girl your age is walkin' all by herself on this highway?' he asked, without taking his eyes off the road. He looked like a man in his fifties and had some gray hair mixed in with his dark brown.
'I just decided to go home,' I said,
He turned and looked at me, then nodded with understanding. 'I got a daughter about your age. She run off once. Got about five miles away before she realized people want money for food and lodging, and strangers don't usually give a tinker's damn about you. She high-tailed it back as fast as she could when a skunk of a man made her a nasty offer. Git my meaning?'
'Yes sir.'
'Same could have happened to you tonight, walking this lonely road all by yerself. Your parents are probably out of their mind with worry too. Now don't you feel foolish?'
'Yes sir, I do.'
'Good. Well, fortunately, no harm come of it, but before you go runnin' off to what you think are greener pastures next time, you better sit yourself down and count the blessings you have,' he advised.
I smiled. 'I certainly will do that,' I said.
'Well, no harm done,' he said. 'Truth is, when I was about your age . . . no,' he added, looking at me again, 'I guess younger . . . I done run off myself.' He laughed at the memory and then began to tell me his story. I realized that driving a truck for long distances was a lonely life, and this kind man had picked me up for the company as much as to do a good deed.
By the time we'd pulled into Houma, I had learned how he and his family had left Texas, where he had gone to school, why he'd married his childhood sweetheart, how he'd built his own home, and how he'd become a truck driver. He wasn't aware of how much he had been talking until he brought the truck to a stop.
'Tarnation! We're here already and I didn't even ask you your name, did I?'
'It's Ruby,' I said. And then, as if to symbolically emphasize my return, I added, 'Ruby Landry,' for I was a Landry again as far as the people of Houma were concerned. 'Thank you,' I said.
