Fly the Rain (5 page)

She loved to sit in the wooden swing on her
back porch and watch the sun go down. Sometimes the clouds were so
colorful. And it was fun to look for shapes. Like the girl walking
her dog.

When Sondra was five years old, she brought
a puppy home and begged to keep it. Muttly never got very big—even
when he was a full grown pooch. But Sondra’s father, Buster, made
her start keeping him on a leash after that night he came home
drunk and tripped over him.

Buster
always
came home drunk on Friday
and Saturday nights. Not on Sunday nights, though. Sunday
was
the Lord’s
day
, he’d say. This was ironic, since
Buster never had much use for church or the Lord.

Sometimes Sondra would get busy with her
friends and forget to feed Muttly. By the end of the day, he’d be
alternately crying and growling, and wouldn’t stop until somebody
fed him.

One particular Friday night, while Sondra
was attending an out-of-town football game, Buster came home drunk
and heard Muttly whining. He was determined to teach Sondra a
lesson, and to fix the problem once and for all. So, he staggered
into the back yard and took care of it.

When Sondra finally made it home, at around
midnight, she went to the back yard to feed Muttly. She opened the
big plastic container that was next to his little doghouse, scooped
out a serving and poured it into the bowl while calling his name
softly. There was no response.

Sondra knelt down and looked inside the
doghouse. By the light of the moon, she could see that he was gone.
She noticed his leash, latched to the doghouse, as always. But it
was pulled tight. She began calling his name again, as she felt
along the leash, which led her upward. Her stomach began to knot.
The leash was pulled taut, over the five-foot fence.

She peeked over the top, and to her horror,
saw her beloved pet hanging by his collar. She pulled him up
quickly and took his lifeless little body in her arms, and cried
for twenty minutes.

How could this have happened? She knew
exactly how it happened.

She cried herself to sleep and didn’t get
out of bed until Saturday afternoon.

That night, when Buster came home drunk, he
had a terrible accident. It appeared that he lost his footing at
the top of the front porch steps, and fell backward. His head hit
the concrete sidewalk like a bag of ice thrown from a third story
window.

Buster Crench would never again harm an
innocent, defenseless creature.

Chapter
6

“
Edsel?” said
Angie.

“
Yeah?” he said, from under
the Oldsmobile.

“
Dinner is
served.”

“
Aw, Angie, you shouldn’t
have done that.”

“
Well, what I’m I supposed
to do? Let you starve?”

Edsel and Angie went through this at least
two or three nights a week. He normally walked over to Angie’s
restaurant for dinner. But some nights he’d lose track of time.

Angie’s Country Fried
Two-Step
served man-sized homestyle
meals. And incredible desserts. People would drive all the way from
Deweyville, about twenty-five minutes north of Orange, just for a
taste of Angie’s cherry pie—topped with Blue Bell ice cream, of
course.

Her father, Herman Mayberly,
had done nothing but gripe since he retired and let Angie take over
the restaurant. She had spent thousands of dollars renovating the
place, adding a small dance floor and a little stage. And he could
not understand why she had to change the name.
Mayberly’s
. It was the family
name.
And
—it
sounded like
neighborly
. How could you go
wrong with a name like that?

A local country band provided live dance
music every Friday and Saturday night. The youngest band member was
48. The rest of the week, people had to make do with the
jukebox.

She had tried to explain her
reasoning to her father.
Angie’s
was to remind everybody
that she was now running things.
Country
Fried
let people know that they were
still serving homestyle food. And
Two-Step
was, of course, short
for Texas Two-Step, a popular country/western dance. Herman thought
the dance floor was a particularly stupid idea. It’ll cost too
much, he said, and it’s a waste of space. If she was going to
enlarge the building, it should be to accommodate more
tables.

“
Come on, now,” said Angie.
“It’s after 8:00.”

“
I’m coming.”

He stood up, walked over to the sink,
grabbed the bar of Lava soap, and began to lather up his greasy
hands and arms.

Angie liked to stay and talk with him while
he ate. They had been friends since she was in high school. He was
eight years older than her. And even at 42, she still looked like a
teenager to him. He figured her curly brown hair would never turn
gray. His, on the other hand, was beginning to.

He was about to sit down when he noticed
that something was not right. “What’s this? Where’s my chicken
fried, chick-chicken fried, chicken fr-fried steak?”

Usually, Angie’s mere presence was enough to
calm his stuttering. But not if he got upset.

“
You shouldn’t be eating
fried food every night, Edsel. It’s not good for you. This grilled
chicken is healthy. Try it.”

He sat down at the little table, cut a piece
and put it in his mouth. “Yeah, that’s pretty good.” Then he
noticed that something else was missing too. “But what about the
gravy? That’s my favorite part, Angie.”

“
No, you see, you
don’t
need
gravy with grilled chicken.”

“
Maybe
you
don’t.”

“
I’m just looking out for
you, Edsel.”

“
I know. And I appreciate
it. Sorry for being grouchy about it.”

He took a bite of green beans, and some
corn. Then he washed it down with iced tea.

She sat down across from him. “Oh, I’ve been
meaning to ask you—did you get an invitation to Ralph’s birthday
party?”

“
Yep.”

“
Are you going? You know
it’s his 75th.”

“
I know. Yeah, I’m planning
to.” Then he remembered. “And Greg’s coming!”

“
Really? How do you
know?”

“
He called me today. And
that boy hasn’t stepped foot in Orange in—I don’t know how
long.”

“
Well, that’s going to
be…quite a reunion.”

“
I know. There’s gonna be
fireworks. He and his daddy are both so bull-headed.”

“
Edsel…do you have a date
for the party?”

“
A date?” She might as well
have asked if he had a million dollars in his pocket.

“
Because…
I
don’t.” She smiled.

“
Oh. I see. You want to go
together. Okay.”

It seemed like a good time for Ed to tell
Angie how he really felt about her. How he wanted to take her into
his arms. How he wanted to marry her.

But, no, he thought, not while he was
wearing greasy work clothes.

Ed was almost always wearing greasy work
clothes.

**********

“
Sondra,” Val called out.
“There’s someone here to see you.”

“
Who is it?”

“
What did you say your name
was?”

“
Mitch,” said the young
man.

“
It’s Mitch,” she
yelled.

Sondra didn’t know any Mitch.

When she reached the front
door, Val gave her a look that said,
don’t invite him in
.

“
Hello, Sondra,” said
Mitch.

“
Do I know you?”

“
No. But I know
you
. And we need to
talk.”

Sondra wanted to tell the punk to get lost.
But she was curious. She opened the screen door and walked out onto
the porch. “What’s this about?”

Mitch stepped closer to her and whispered,
“I live across the street from Jason.”

She gave him a blank stare.

“
You know—Jason. The man you
killed in Houston.”

“
I don’t know what you’re
talking about. I’ve never killed anybody.”

“
I saw you come home with
him Friday night. Then, a little later, I saw you
leave.”

“
That wasn’t me.”

“
And then, on Saturday
night, some of his friends showed up at his house for their poker
game. But he didn’t answer the door. And they couldn’t reach him by
phone. Yet his car was in the driveway. So, they called the
police.”

“
Well, that’s a shame. But
it has nothing to do with me.”

“
Look,” he said, grinning
slyly, “I
know
it was you. I overheard one of the men saying that Jason had
planned to go by Joe’s Bar on the way home from work Friday night.
So, I went to the bar and asked a few questions. Joe, himself, told
me that you performed there on Friday night, and that you left with
Jason.”

“
Oh—
that
Jason. Yeah, I remember him
now. He seemed pretty depressed. But I didn’t go home with him. We
just walked out of the bar together. Then we went our separate
ways.”

Now Mitch didn’t look as confident.

“
So, what were you going to
do?” said Sondra. “Why didn’t you report me to the
police?”

“
Well, I…”

“
You were planning to
blackmail me, weren’t you?”

Mitch stammered.

“
How old are you?” She asked
the question as though she were a schoolteacher talking to a third
grader.

“
Twenty,” he answered
dutifully.

Sondra smiled. “Well, you’re a good-looking
20 year-old.”

“
Thanks.” He nearly blushed.
He had not anticipated this kind of attention from the hot
blonde.

“
You want to go get a cup of
coffee or something?”

“
Sure.”

“
Where’s your
car?”

“
Repossessed. I took the
bus.”

“
You live you with your
parents, don’t you?”

He hesitated. “Yeah.”

“
No problem. We’ll take my
car.”

**********

“
Yeah, you’re right,
Sondra.” Mitch laughed. “This tequila is
much
better than coffee.” He
stumbled across the uneven parking lot, kicking a few loose shells,
nearly falling down.

In Southeast Texas, shell is often used for
driveways and parking lots, as a less expensive alternative to
asphalt or concrete.

He stared into the darkness. It was nearly
midnight. “Where is the boat? I can’t see any boats.”

“
That’s because
you
don’t have the
flashlight. Come over here,” said Sondra. “And keep your voice
down.”

“
Why? There’s nobody around
here… Is this the one? It doesn’t even have a motor.”

“
We don’t need a motor.
We’ve got paddles. See?”

“
Aw, man. I don’t want to
paddle. I just want to drink some more of this stuff.” He held up
the bottle of tequila. “And make sweet, hot love to you,
Baby.”

“
I’ll do the paddling. Get
in.”

“
And I’ll do the making…I
mean the loving…I mean, yeah, I’ll get in.” He nearly lost his
balance before sitting down. “I’m ready to shove off, Captain.” He
saluted her forcefully, accidentally poking himself in the eye with
a finger.

“
Are you sure you’re
seaworthy?”

He obviously was not.

“
Sir, yes, Sir. I am, Sir.”
He saluted again.

As she rowed the little boat out into Sabine
River, Mitch continued to guzzle the alcohol.

Finally Sondra pulled the paddles into the
boat.

“
Come here, Baby. I’ve got a
big surprise for you,” he said.

“
Oh, really,” she said
playfully, as she approached him. But instead of sitting in front
of him, she slipped past him and sat down behind him, facing his
back.

“
What are you
doing?”

“
I’m about to make your
dreams come true,” she said.

“
Yahoo!”

“
Shush!”

He lowered his voice. “Wow.
The sound really echoes out here,
echoes
out her
e, doesn’t it?”

She reached around from behind him, and
unbuckled his belt.

“
Okay. I like it so
far.”

Sondra took the empty bottle out of his
right hand, and set it down. Then she gently pulled both of his
hands around to his back. He could feel her inner thighs with his
fingertips.

“
Very nice,” he
said.

He couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing
with his belt, but suddenly he realized that his hands were tied
together. He could no longer touch her legs. “Hey, why did you do
that?”

“
Be patient.” She began to
massage his chest with both hands. He seemed to forget that his
hands were tied.