Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (22 page)

She would ask Deke to keep her box of “keepsakes” until she could send for them. She sat on the bunk and waited for the light to go off in the garage and for Brady to go to the Putman camp before she carried the box up to the house.

Weariness overcame her. After a while she lay down and pillowed her head on her bent arm. She was tired not only in body but in mind. It had been a stressful day, not knowing if she had been abandoned here … again. She dozed fitfully, aroused briefly, then fell into a deep sleep.

She awakened with a startled cry and became instantly alert. Strong gusts of wind rocked the truck, and she heard the insistent rumble of thunder. She sat up in total darkness clutching the edge of the bunk. The back flap had been let down and tied. As a rule she was not afraid of storms, but sitting here alone in the darkness unable to see what was going on outside, she was desperately afraid and began to tremble violently as she dressed.

It seemed to her that she had been sitting there for hours when she heard a voice over the roar of the thunder.

“Margie! Margie, are you in there?”

“Yes, I’m here.” She made her way to the end of the truck and began to claw at the rope holding down the flap. A corner of it opened suddenly. Brady stood there.

“We’re going to the cellar.” He reached for her and lifted her out over the tailgate, then quickly retied the flap.

Glancing upward, Margie glimpsed during the flashes of lightning a blanket of dark, rolling clouds. A gust of wind came up under her full skirt and wrapped it around her thighs. She fought to hold it down while the wind whipped her hair around her face.

“Anna Marie?” The wind whipped her words away, but he must have heard them.

“With Alvin,” he shouted. “Deke is taking his mother to the cellar, and the Lukers are on their way. Where’s Elmer?”

Margie pointed toward the cab of the truck, where she supposed he would be unless he had put up his pup tent in this wind. Holding her hand tightly, Brady pulled her around the truck until he could reach the door of the cab and yank it open.

“Come to the cellar,” he shouted over the rumbling thunder, the roar of the wind and the rippling of the canvas covering the truck bed. “There could be a twister up there.”

Elmer shook his head.

“Come on. We’ll be safe in the cellar,” Brady shouted angrily.

For an answer Elmer reached over and pulled the door shut.

Brady cursed. “Damn stubborn fool.”

Wrapping an arm around her, Brady urged Margie up the path. Drops of wind-driven rain lashed them like pine needles. The door to the cellar was open, and the glow of a lantern came from within. Alvin stood on the steps, took Margie’s arm and helped her scramble down the stairwell.

“Did you find Elmer?” Alvin shouted over the deafening noise of the approaching storm.

“He won’t come.”

“Darn fool. Where is he?”

“The cab of his truck.”

“I’ll go.”

“He won’t come, Mr. Putman,” Margie said quickly.

“I’ll go anyway.”

Grace got up to protest, but Alvin was up the stairs and out, running toward the campground.

Benches lined the walls of the cellar. The Lukers sat on one of them; Grace, Rusty and Mona sat across from them on another. Anna Marie was cuddled in Rusty’s lap, Blackie at his feet. Mrs. Bales sat on a wooden folding chair beside a box that held the lantern.

“Where’s Deke?”

“He went to see about his animals,” Mrs. Bales said calmly. “He’ll be here.”

And he was. Minutes later the little man, his hair swirling wildly around his head, bounded down the uneven steps as agilely as a young fawn. And on his heels came Alvin.

“The stubborn fool wouldn’t come,” he told Margie.

“Thank you for trying.”

Brady and Deke battled to close the door. Summoning all their strength, they managed to get the door up off the ground, then ducked into the stairwell as the wind caught it and slammed it shut. Deke produced a flashlight so that he could see to shoot the bolt that would keep it closed.

Now the noise of the storm was muffled.

Margie sat down on the end of the bench where the Lukers were. Alvin went to sit by Grace and put his arm around her. Brady, stooping to keep his head from hitting the cellar ceiling, sat beside Margie. Deke hung the lantern on a nail in one of the ceiling beams and sat down on the box.

Anna Marie slid off Rusty’s lap and went to Margie, bringing a scrap of blanket with her. Margie lifted her up to sit on her lap, put her arms around her and snuggled her close.

“Are ya scared, Margie?”

“No, puddin’. I’m not scared. We’ll be just fine down here.” She covered the child with the blanket, tucking it in around her legs.

“I was scared. Uncle Alvin carried me so Uncle Brady could go get you. Then Rusty held me. Rusty likes me.”

“Of course he does. We all like you, very much.”

“
She
don’t.” Anna Marie lifted her head so she could see Sugar Luker. “She said, ‘Go away, pest.’ ”

Margie’s eyes collided with Sugar Luker’s. If looks could kill, Sugar would have dropped dead.

“We don’t pay any attention to her,” Margie was goaded to say loudly enough for all to hear.

Silence followed. A chunk of something hit the cellar door.

“Let’s hope that’s not a limb from your peach tree, Mama.” Deke put a reassuring hand on his mother’s shoulder. “I thought we were only going to get a good thunderstorm until the wind came up and I saw those rolling clouds. They’re the kind a twister could drop out of.”

“I’ve heard that this is tornado country,” Foley said. “Ever been in one?”

“Close, but not head-on. We sight a few every year; usually in late summer.”

“I’m glad we’re here and not in some other campground,” Alvin said. “We thank you for invitin’ us down here.”

Deke shrugged and after a long silent period, looked at Margie. “How ya doin’, darlin’?”

“All right.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. She hated the quiet within the cellar. She wished someone would say something so that she wouldn’t be so conscious of Brady’s hard body close to hers, or the big hand resting on his thigh, the hand that had cupped her head when he kissed her. She tried to concentrate on something else.

Mona, sitting close to Rusty, was glaring at her stepmother, daring her to make one of her sarcastic comments. Sugar was cuddled against Foley, her hand clutching the front of his shirt. Tension between Mona and Sugar was sharp as a knife.

Then Alvin began to sing.

“Give me that old-time religion,

Give me that old-time religion,

Give me that old-time religion;

It’s good enough for me.”

Grace joined the singing, then Rusty and Mrs. Bales. Soon the others joined in. After several hymns Jody urged Rusty to sing alone.

“What do you want to hear?”

“One of the ballads you sang the other night.”

Even without the accompaniment of his guitar Rusty’s voice was low and haunting.

“Standing by the water tank,

Waiting for a train.

I’m a thousand miles away from home,

Sleeping in the rain.

My pocketbook is empty,

Not a penny to my name…”

He sang with such feeling you could almost see in your mind’s eye the lonely figure waiting for the train. He sang several ballads, then after coaxing from Mona, sang her favorite.

“In a little rosewood casket,

Sitting on a marble stand,

Are a package of love letters,

Written by my true love’s hand.”

Rusty’s hand reached for Mona’s. Her fingers interlaced with his, and tears filled her eyes. He continued to sing.

“While I listen to you read them,

I will gently fall asleep,

Fall asleep to wake with Jesus;

Oh, dear sister, do not weep.”

In the quiet after he had finished, Sugar exclaimed, “Oh, my God! That’s the silliest song I ever heard. Don’t you ever sing anything happy, or about good times?”

“Sure,” Rusty said calmly. “How about this:

“Happy days are here again.

The skies above are clear again.

So let’s sing a song of cheer again.

Happy days are here again.”

“If that’s the best you can do, I prefer quiet.”

“Sugar!” Foley removed his arm from around her. “That wasn’t called for.”

“She’s got no more manners than an alley cat,” Mona said staunchly.

“Mona, that’s enough.” There was a warning tone in Foley’s voice. “This is not the time or the place for a family squabble.”

“Then hush
her
up!” Mona said, and whispered an apology to Rusty.

“Thank you for the songs, Rusty,” Margie said. “I enjoyed every one of them.”

“I’ve heard a lot worse than that on the radio,” Deke added. “You should be on the
Grand Ole Opry
. Don’t you think so, Mama? Mama and I listen to Nashville every Saturday night.”

Rain pounded on the slanting plank door of the cellar.

“Could be a little hail mixed with the rain,” Alvin commented.

“Yeah,” Deke said. “The wind may have gone down some. The thunder seemed to be moving farther away.”

Margie had no idea how long she had sat there. She knew that her bottom was numb. Anna Marie had fallen asleep while Rusty sang.

“Let me hold her for a while.” The softly spoken words came suddenly. Margie turned and found Brady’s face close to hers. She looked down quickly.

“All right. My arms are tired.”

Brady leaned into her to lift Anna Marie from her arms. When she was settled in his lap, Margie lifted the child’s feet and legs across hers and adjusted the blanket around her.

“Are you cold?” Brady asked.

“No, I’m all right.”

Silence. Even Deke didn’t have anything to say. Sugar’s rude remarks seemed to have dried up the conversation and placed a blanket of unease over the group in the cellar. Grace’s head was against Alvin’s shoulder, her eyes closed. Mona and Rusty whispered in each other’s ears. Margie closed her eyes and dozed.

She awoke with a start and sat up quickly when she realized her head was against Brady’s shoulder. Vowing to stay awake—and in order to whip up her anger against him—she recalled to mind the night he manhandled her like the loose woman he thought she was.

But instead of thinking of the hateful kiss and the hateful words that followed, she remembered the tender kisses they shared before Elmer poisoned Brady against her. Even after their quarrel at the PowWow, he had held her gently while they danced and had pressed his cheek against hers.

After tomorrow morning she would never see him again. Thinking about it made her want to cry.

“The rain has let up.” Deke was at the cellar door. He shot the bolt back, lifted the plank door and let it fall back. “It’s only a light drizzle now.” He stuck his head out and looked around. “It looks like the wind has tore up jack. Branches are down all over.”

“Take her, Margie.” Brady shifted Anna Marie to Margie’s lap. “I’ll go out with Deke and Alvin and look around.”

Foley left Sugar’s clinging arms and followed the men out, stopping to put a hand on Jody’s shoulder with the un-spoken request that he try to keep peace between his daughter and his wife.

The damp breeze blew from the open door, and Margie shivered and hugged Anna Marie close, welcoming her warmth.

Deke went to the barn to check on his animals, the others to see what, if any, damage had been done to their cars and trucks. Then Brady saw sparks dancing along the ground in the middle of the campground.

“Hold it,” he said. “The electric wires are down. Watch where you step. If you come in contact with a hot wire on this wet ground, you’re a goner.”

“I’ll go for the lantern.” Alvin backtracked quickly.

He was back in less than a minute. “I hated to leave the women in the dark.”

Brady picked up a long leafless branch, one of many strewn about. They proceeded cautiously toward the downed wire that was sending sparks over the wet ground.

“There! Good Lord!” Alvin exclaimed. “That’s—that’s— Elmer!”

The light from the lantern shone on the body of the man who lay crumpled in the puddle of water. Nearby, the end of the live electric wire lay on the ground.

“Stay back. I’ll try to move the wire away from him.” Brady, using the branch, carefully lifted the deadly wire a few feet from the end and moved it a good six feet before it slipped off the end of the branch.

Alvin and Foley knelt beside the still form, turned him over and stared into his open, vacant eyes.

“Mother of Christ,” Foley murmured. “He’s dead!”

“No doubt about that.”

Shocked into silence, the men looked down at the man who had rejected their attempts to be friendly.

“It looks like he may have decided to come to the cellar after all. The limb from one of those trees broke off and snapped the wire. It caught him out here in the open.”

The beam of Deke’s flashlight danced along the ground as he approached.

“I see we got a downed wire.”

“That’s not all that’s down.” Alvin moved aside and held up the lantern.

“Godalmighty!” Deke peered closer. “Is he dead?” The question was moot, he knew, even as he asked it.

“We should get him out of this puddle,” Brady said.

“Put him in the garage. I’ll hop on my cycle, get the sheriff and someone out here to take care of that hot wire.”

“We can take my car.” Brady moved to lift Elmer beneath his arms. Foley took his feet.

“Better leave it as it is. The wind could come up and whip that wire around. I’ll go on my cycle.”

“Hadn’t thought of that.”

Deke led the way and had the garage doors open by the time they reached it. They laid Elmer down on the floor beside Foley’s car. Deke covered his face with a towel.

Alvin shook his head sadly. “Poor stubborn fool. I don’t know what got into him this past week.”

“His stubbornness got him killed,” Brady said without feeling. “I urged him to come with us to the cellar, but he’d have none of it.”