“He did?”
She hugged her legs, as if chilled. And it wasn’t chilly.
“He said if I ever took up with another man, he’d see me dead.”
I thought about telling her what her father had told me—that her husband Seth had already taken up with another woman (or two), and could care less about getting her back, at this point; it had been a year, after all.
“And even if Seth
I didn’t point out that we seemed to be on a stupid little farm at the moment, and that the life she’d seen with Candy Walker was a squalid nightmare.
But I did say, “Maybe you should start over. Just go to a big city and find a job.”
She released her legs and stretched them out in front of her; the pink dress was up around her knees. Nice calves, as we say down on the farm.
She said, “I did have some typing in school. I had almost two years of high school, you know.”
“You speak well. Express yourself well.”
She liked hearing that; she gave me a broad, toothy smile that was as refreshing as that sweet smell back in the corn rows. She said, “I read a lot, you know. I like the movies, too. I always thought I’d be…you’ll laugh.”
“No I won’t.”
“An actress. There, I said it, go ahead, laugh. Every dumb little farm girl wants to run off to the big city and be a star.”
“Sometimes it works out,” I said, thinking of Sally.
“Well, at least I ran off. I don’t suppose my life is so different from being in show business.”
“You’re sure on the road a lot.”
“But even a typist. A secretary. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? That’d be a step up, and in a big city. I can’t stay on with the Barkers and all. With Candy gone, I just don’t see why I’d stay.”
I touched her shoulder. “Why not go home, at least give your father a chance? Then you can go to the big city, if you like. I got friends in Chicago, for instance. Maybe I could help out.”
She touched my face with a hand that smelled nicely of grain; the hand she’d cracked the barley stalk with. She said, “You really are sweet, my Gentleman Jim.”
She really did read, didn’t she? The romance magazines, that is.
She was saying, “How can anybody be so good and honest as you?”
Since I was a liar trying to manipulate her into doing my client’s bidding, I couldn’t wholeheartedly agree with her.
So I just said, “I’m not, really. I just think a girl as pretty as you doesn’t need a life as shabby as this.”
I thought she might take offense, but she didn’t.
She raised her skirt. Lifted it slowly, up over her thighs. Up to a yellow fringe between her legs. No underthings.
She wasn’t bashful, this girl.
“I know Candy is fresh in his grave,” she said, “but it doesn’t matter. He’s gone, and you’re here—and I want you. I need you. You could make me feel better.”
This would go over real big with my client.
I said, “I don’t think I should, Louise.”
She reached behind her and was unbuttoning the dress; then she was easing it down to her waist and her breasts were round and her nipples were pink and I unbuttoned my trousers.
I was getting a Sheik out of my billfold when she said, “No. You don’t need that.”
“You want me to…?”
“Pull out when it’s time? No. Don’t worry. I can’t have kids.”
A more sensitive man might’ve had his ardor dampened by that remark; but I was still caught up in the sweet smell of corn and the fringe between her legs and pink nipples and I had her on the grass, under the trees, her bottom small and firm and yet soft in my hands, as I slid in and out of her, went round and round in her, as she moved beneath me with a yearning that went beyond the moment, and she moaned and groaned and cried out when she came, and so did I. Then she was sitting up and in my arms, a bundle of flesh and undone clothes and sobbing.
Pretty soon I put my pants on.
That’s when I noticed, not far from where we’d just got to know each other, biblically speaking, a patch of ground without any grass.
The grave where Candy Walker and Doc Moran lay entwined, much as Louise and I had been.
A wave of nausea hit me, as strong as the smell of ammonia. But there was nothing in my stomach, so nothing came up.
But Louise, standing now, hands behind her, buttoning, said, “What’s wrong?”
