Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (23 page)

“Will the sheriff bring the undertaker?” Alvin asked Deke while he was filling an extra lantern with kerosene.

“I suspect he will after I tell him what’s happened. Before I go, I’ll light the lamps in the house. Mama won’t stay in that cellar any longer than she has to.” He lit the lantern and set it on a box beside the door.

“I’ll bring the women up. Do you mind if they sit on your porch?”

“Lord, no. Bring Mama and the women up to the house, Mr. Putman. Mama will fuss over ’em.”

“Margie has to be told.” This came from Brady after Deke’s cycle had roared off down the highway toward town.

“Do you want to tell her?” Alvin asked.

“No. She’ll take it better coming from you.”

Chapter 17

M
ARGIE TOOK THE NEWS OF HER FATHER’S DEATH QUIETLY
. It was almost as if Alvin had told her of the death of a stranger. She was sad that it had happened, but she felt no heart-wrenching grief. The implication of what this meant for
her
would take a while longer to sink in.

Everyone had been kind. Grace had told her how sorry she was and hugged her, as had Mona and Mrs. Bales. The men had removed their hats when they spoke to her. Margie knew they were sincere in their expressions of sympathy. She also knew how each of them had felt about her father while he was alive. He was not a likable man.

The midmorning air was fresh and cool—not that she noticed as she walked down to the campground. It hit her, as she approached the truck, that now she was without kin. Elmer had not been much of a father, but he had given her life. As far as she knew, he was her only blood relative. Her half brother’s family, if he had one, probably didn’t even know that she was alive and wouldn’t care if they did.

Earlier, feeling detached, she had sat on Deke’s porch and watched the undertaker take the body away. Shortly afterward, Brady came to the porch with the contents he had taken from Elmer’s pockets tied in a handkerchief.

“I told the undertaker that I’d bring down clean clothes sometime this morning.”

“He kept the box locked where he kept his things.”

“You have his keys. Do you want to bury him here or send him back to Conway?”

“Here. There’s no one back there.”

“Do you want me to take care of it?”

“I don’t want to put you out—”

“I want to help.”

“I’ll go look for something to bury him in.”

“I thought you would want to know, so I asked the undertaker how much this was going to cost. He said the grave space is five dollars, and his fee plus the casket is forty. There is money there in Elmer’s billfold. I didn’t count it, but I believe it’s enough.”

“I guess we’ll need a preacher.”

“Not necessarily. Alvin will conduct a service if you want him to. The undertaker suggested ten o’clock in the morning.”

“The families won’t want to wait until noon to leave. Mrs. Luker is wanting to go today.”

“Foley put the kibosh on that. Alvin will stay. So will I.”

“I’ll go to the truck and see what I can find for the burial.”

“The undertaker will need some information about Elmer for the records.”

“I’ll write down what I know.” She left the porch and started down the path toward the truck. Brady kept step with her. When they reached the truck, he took her arm.

“Margie … I’m sorry about what happened the other night. I shouldn’t have been rough with you.”

“It’s all right.”

“I’ve no excuse except to say I was frustrated … because you seemed to think that I would take more than I was offered.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“Once a stink is out of a box, it can’t be put back in.”

“What do you mean?”

“I understand you thought I was a silly, starstruck girl who would welcome that kind of treatment. Forget it.”

She fumbled to untie the wet ropes on the flap on the back of the truck. Brady reached over her, blocking her in with his body, and pushed her hands away. He untied and rolled up the flap.

“Thank you. I appreciate your help with … the funeral. But if you’d rather not, I’m sure Deke would—”

“I’m sure he’d do what he could, but he doesn’t need to, because I’m here.” He let down the tailgate and took her arm when she stepped up onto the box to climb into the truck. “I’ll be back in a little while to get whatever you want to send to the funeral home.”

She nodded.

“You look worn-out. Why don’t you lie down and sleep for a while?”

She nodded again, stepped up into the truck and sat down on the bunk. When she was sure that she was alone, she covered her face with her hands and allowed the tears to run between her fingers and down her cheeks. She cried silently, not from grief over Elmer, but because she felt as if she were floating on a river of unreality and there was a waterfall just ahead.

A wave of fatigue washed over her. She loosened the top buttons at the neck of her blouse and lay back on the bunk. Her spine straightened painfully. She flexed her shoulders and rolled her head from side to side to ease her tense muscles. Her body was tired to the point of collapse.

“What will happen next?” she whispered into the silence that gave no answer.

Alvin had tried to assure her that something would be worked out so that she could continue on with the caravan. Knowing how Brady felt about her made it all the more humiliating to have to accept his help.

Sometime later she heard the sound of voices coming from the Luker camp. Then a car passed on the highway. It was time to face what had to be done.

She sat up and reached for the bundle of things taken from Elmer’s pockets. Inside she found a ring of keys, pocketknife, worn billfold, pocket watch and some loose change. In the billfold was fifty-eight dollars. Thank goodness it was enough for the burial. She was sure that Elmer had the money from the sale of his house and the ice company put away somewhere, but it didn’t matter: She wasn’t entitled to it.

When Goldie, his wife, was notified of his death, she would search out every nook and cranny for whatever he had left. Everything he had, including the truck, now belonged to her even if she had gone off and left him.

Margie removed the pad from the box she had been sleeping on and tried each of the keys in the padlock until she found the one that opened it. Feeling jumpy, as if Elmer might come around to the back of the truck and catch her searching through his private possessions, she opened the lid.

In one end of the box were several pairs of neatly folded overalls and shirts, a black serge suit and black shoes with socks stuffed in the toes. Margie wondered if this was the suit he’d worn when he and Goldie were married. On the top of his underwear was a white shirt with a black string tie in the pocket.

At the other end of the box was a mantel clock wrapped in a piece of blanket, a square metal box secured with another padlock, a handgun and several boxes of shells. Tucked down alongside of the clock was a red Prince Albert tobacco can.

She took out the black suit, shook the coat and held it to the light. The suit appeared to be new. The white shirt was wrinkled but clean. She refolded the suit and shirt and set the shoes beside them.

Margie had the feeling of invading Elmer’s privacy when she fitted a key in the lock of the metal box to open it. There wasn’t much in it: two flat, round snuff cans with something heavy in them, apparently coins. A half dozen letters were tied with a string; an envelope held a cameo necklace. There was also a lady’s lapel watch and a pair of baby shoes.

She pulled one of the envelopes from the stack, opened the flap and gasped in amazement. Instead of a letter, the envelope held four fifty-dollar bills. When she recovered from the surprise of finding the money, she looked in the next five envelopes. Two one-hundred-dollar bills were in each.

In the last envelope was a two-sheet letter. She put the sheets back in the envelope still so shocked she didn’t bother to read the letter. With shaking hands, she retied the envelopes, put them back in the metal box and locked it.

She had never in all her life seen so much money at one time. She closed the lid on the wooden box and replaced the padlock. It didn’t even occur to her to claim the money. Elmer had married, so, of course, it belonged to his wife.

Goldie would be overjoyed. Damn her!

Margie had never seen her father in anything but overalls. The shiny black shoes she had placed beside the suit that she had laid out for Brady to take to the funeral parlor looked as if they had never been worn. She pulled a sock from a shoe. Rolling the top of the sock down to turn it right side out, she felt a hard lump in the toe and pulled out two fifty-dollar bills folded in a small tight square. She stared at them dumbfounded for a long moment, then looked in the other sock and found the same. Two hundred more dollars.

Margie tucked the money in her skirt pocket and quickly searched the pockets of the suit. She found nothing but a stick of Juicy Fruit gum. She was refolding the trousers when Brady appeared. He stood at the end of the truck, his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Margie?”

“He had a suit.”

“Do you want to go to town with me?”

“No.”

“I think you should. The undertaker will want to know a few things.”

“I don’t even know how old he was,” she said irritably. “He didn’t think enough of me to even tell me he had married—for the third time. I had to find it out when someone came into the café where I was working.”

“The date of his birth would be on his driver’s license if he had one. Did you look in his billfold?”

She held out the billfold. “I only looked to see if there was enough money to bury him.” She turned her back and picked up the stack of folded clothes.

“He was born in ’85,” Brady said, slipping a card back in the billfold. “That makes him forty-eight.”

“That sounds about right. Granny said he was twenty-five when I was born and he had already buried one wife.”

“Was he born there in Conway?”

“As far as I know.”

“I wish you’d come with me. You don’t have to get out of the car if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to go,” she said stubbornly. “If you don’t want to take the burial clothes, I’ll ask Deke.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want to go,” he said patiently. “I think it would be good for you to get away from here for a while.”

“Well, I don’t. I’ve got thinking to do. I can do it better here by myself. I’ve got to decide what to do.”

“Are you worried that we’ll all pull out and leave you here by yourself? We’ll not do that.”

“I won’t be by myself. Deke will help me sell the truck. The sheriff will help me locate Goldie. She’ll come running if she thinks she’s getting some money.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“It isn’t a matter of wanting. It’s what I’ve got to do.”

Brady saw the fatigue in her face, the dark circles beneath her eyes. “Why don’t you lie down and sleep for a while? I’ll give the undertaker the information.”

“Pay him with the money in the billfold.”

“You’ve got friends here, Margie. Don’t push them away.”

“I appreciate your staying for Elmer’s burial.”

“We’re not staying for Elmer. We’re staying for you.”

“When he’s in the ground, your obligation will be over. I’ve always taken care of myself, paid my own way. I’ve never been a burden on anyone and don’t intend to start now.”

Brady looked at her long and steadily. He saw her quivering lips, her chin tilted defiantly, the overbright eyes that were trying to hold back tears. She was tired and scared and, Lord, how he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that she wasn’t alone. Instead he reached for the clothes and backed away.

He had taken only a few steps when he heard the back flap on the truck drop down.

When Margie awoke, she realized that the sun had gone down and that she had slept the day away. She could smell the smoke from the supper fires. While she slept, someone had stepped up into the truck and covered her with a sheet.

She sat up on the side of the bunk and ran her forked fingers through her hair. Her stomach growled, and she had to use the outhouse. Dreading to leave the truck but knowing that she must, she ran a comb through her hair and held it back from her face by slipping a ribbon beneath it, tying it in a bow and moving the bow back to be covered by her hair.

She made it to the outhouse without being intercepted, but she wasn’t so lucky on the way back. Foley Luker stopped her to invite her to eat supper with them.

“Thank you, but I’ve got something laid out.”

“If there’s anything we can do, let us know. Would you like Mona to come over and stay with you?”

“No, but thanks.” Margie shook her head and looked directly at Sugar, who had come to stand beside her husband. “I’ll manage just fine.” She walked away, her head high.

“She don’t want Mona. She wants to sleep with Brady,” Sugar said spitefully and loud enough for Margie to hear.

Foley turned on his wife. “Shut up! Don’t you have anything nice to say about anybody?” He stalked off and left her standing.

Margie climbed into the truck and looked in the icebox. The day before, Elmer had bought ice as well as eggs, a ring of baloney and milk. In the cupboard were bread, crackers, pork and beans and canned peaches. Margie buttered two slices of bread and cut the baloney in chunks. She sat on the bunk and ate slowly.

“Darlin’? Are you all right?” Deke came to stand at the end of the truck.

“I’m fine, Deke. I was tired and slept the day away.”

“It’s what ya needed, darlin’. Why don’t ya come up to the house and stay with Mama? I’d stay here with ya, but I’m goin’ to be workin’ on a motor that was brought in from the ranch where I used to work.”

“I don’t need anyone with me, Deke. I’ll stay right here. I’ve got to decide what I’m going to do.”

“Ya know yo’re welcome to stay here long as ya want. And if I can help in any way, ya only got to ask.”

“I know that, and I’ll not hesitate to ask.”

“Get some rest, darlin’.”

When she finished eating, Margie put the back flap down, filled the washdish with water from the barrel, washed herself from head to toe and felt considerably better.