The Hayloft: a 1950s Mystery (31 page)

Sylvia took my hand and said, “Now I know why
I like you, Gary.”

“The fact that I would have to be separated
from you entered into my thinking, too.”

“I’m sure it did.” Sylvia said that with a
lilt. She was her old playful self again.

“He mentioned the benefits of living at home.
But I think I’ve outgrown home, at least as a permanent
residence.”

“It’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t
want to live there.”

“Well, maybe summers.”

The music stopped, and Tom and Kate returned,
hand in hand, to the chairs in our little group. Kate looked
delectable in a red dress that matched her hair. She had
successfully covered many of the scars on her face and arms from
the scratches of the nettles, with makeup, something I had been
much less successful at. Girls are so much better at those things
than boys. But perhaps the scratches had enhanced my reputation at
Carter during the past week. I certainly didn’t have a low profile
anymore.

Tom was handsome in a dark suit, white shirt,
and red tie. He hadn’t suffered any damage that was noticeable and
in fact, had probably come out of the fire in better shape than
anybody else, with the possible exception of Archie. My mother had
suffered rope burns on her hands and sprained her ankle. Aunt
Dorothy had hurt her knee and was hobbling around with a cane. Both
my father and Uncle Jeff had been treated for smoke inhalation and
been given oxygen by the volunteer firemen, who couldn’t do
anything to save the barn.

The barn was a total loss. It had burned down
to the concrete foundation. My father and Aunt Dorothy didn’t seem
to be as concerned about that as they could be. Perhaps because
they were insured, but more likely because we had all gotten out
safely.

“Good band,” Tom said, enthusiastically.
“Kate, would you like something to drink?”

She answered in the affirmative, and Tom set
off to the refreshment table. The music started again. This time
the band played “The Tennessee Waltz.”

“Gary, you haven’t danced with Kate yet,”
Sylvia said. “Now is your chance.”

I wasn’t sure about leaving Sylvia alone, but
her look told me this was my duty. Although my waltzing was not
major league, and it was made worse by my sore hip, I escorted Kate
out onto the floor and did my best. At least the intricacies of the
waltz would keep us at a respectable distance from each other. As I
looked at her, I realized for the first time that both she and
Sylvia had green eyes. They were the only green-eyed girls I had
ever known.

After a short silence, I said, “When is Ed
getting out of the hospital?” We hadn’t talked about Ed in the car,
trying to focus on happier things.

“He’ll be out next week,” Kate said. “His
skull fracture is mending well and so is his leg. And then…what’s
going to happen to him, Gary?”

I saw two tears rolling down her cheeks. I
wished I hadn’t said anything about Ed. But I wasn’t going to lie
to her.

“Well, he has some serious charges against
him. Murder and attempted murder.” Not to mention false
imprisonment and destruction of property. “But the murder charge
won’t be first degree. And he’s a minor, so he’s treated
differently than an adult. If he…has learned his lesson, I suspect
that he will be able to live a normal life someday. But he won’t be
returning to Carter.”

Ed had confessed to pushing Ralph off the
balcony, because Ralph was teasing him about the necklace. They had
met after the assembly for some reason that wasn’t clear. The
subject of the map had come up. Ralph had the map but wouldn’t show
it to Ed. They argued about it, and Ralph did his handstand trick.
It was his undoing. Ed went down to the main floor of the
auditorium and took the map off his body.

“I know. They’re going to send him to reform
school or someplace like that. But first they’re going to give him
a psychiatric evaluation. Do you think they might send him to the
loony bin?”

I couldn’t answer that. I held Kate a little
closer.

“I’ve seen him in the hospital,” Kate
continued, “and he seems very repentant. I think he’s learned his
lesson.”

“I’m sure he has.” I hoped this was true.

“Where do you think he went wrong? Do you
think he was corrupted by reading those magazines?”

“Magazines?”

“You know, the nudist magazines.”

“Uh, no, I think they’re basically
harmless.”

I didn’t mention that I had been struggling
not to be corrupted by the magazine I had purloined from Ed. I was
glad when the dance ended. Kate excused herself to go to the
“powder” room and fix her makeup. She declined an invitation from
Sylvia to go with her.

“She’ll be all right,” I said to Tom, trying
to reassure him. “She’s worried about Ed.”

“I see that our hero is back with his
beloved.”

I recognized the voice immediately, but I
looked up to make sure. It was Natalie all right, looking more
beautiful than usual, if that were possible. I still preferred
Sylvia. I was surprised that Natalie had the gall to approach
Sylvia.

“And I’m glad to see that you and Joe are
getting along so well,” Sylvia said with a fake smile and fake
interest.

“Well, you know how it is,” Natalie said,
answering smile for smile, as if their smiles were dueling swords.
“Would you mind terribly if I danced a dance with Gary?”

That came as another surprise, since Joe was
in full view of us, talking to another couple.

“I know how you like to collect heroes,”
Sylvia said. “Sure, you can dance with Gary. Just don’t try to
collect him.”

We went out on the dance floor and oozed
around to the strains of “Half as Much,” made famous by Rosemary
Clooney. I had read a quote about writing a ballad from somebody
who knew the music business: “Keep it simple, keep it sexy, keep it
sad.” And have Rosemary sing it.

“Aren’t you afraid of what Joe will do?” I
asked Natalie.

“Joe and I have reached an understanding,”
she said. “We had a very frank discussion. I told him I would stay
with him until graduation, and then we will go our separate ways.
Meanwhile, I will dance with whom I please and talk to whom I
please.”

“And he didn’t get mad?”

“He started to utter threats, as he was wont
to do, but I stood up to him. I told him that my daddy keeps a
shotgun under his bed, and he knows how to use it.”

“Is that true?”

“Does it matter whether it’s true, as long as
Joe thinks it’s a real possibility? Anyway, he has behaved like a
lamb ever since.”

And apparently to show her independence, she
put her head on my shoulder. I glanced apprehensively at Sylvia,
but she was talking to Tom and to Kate, who had returned from the
“powder” room, and ignoring us.

“My offer still stands,” Natalie said into my
ear. “If you ever want to play ‘hide the salami,’ give me a
jingle.”

This straightened me up real fast, and I
danced the rest of the dance with plenty of airspace between us
while she gave me her innocent look. As with Kate, I was glad when
the dance was over, but for different reasons. I finally got to
dance with Sylvia again, to the band’s version of “Autumn Leaves.”
Appropriate.

“Well, did you get Nat out of your system?”
Sylvia asked me with an impish grin.

“I’ve gotten all girls except you out of my
system,” I said. And I meant it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

After spending more than a quarter of a
century as a pioneer in the computer industry, Alan Cook is well
into his second career as a writer.

Run into Trouble
is about a footrace along the California coast in
1969 during the Cold War. But is the Cold War about to heat up?
Drake and Melody, who worked undercover together in former lives,
need to find the answer before all hell breaks loose.

The Hayloft: a 1950s
mystery
and prize-winning
Honeymoon for Three
feature Gary Blanchard, first as a high school senior who has
to solve the murder of his cousin, and ten years later as a
bridegroom who gets more than he bargained for on his
honeymoon.

Hotline to Murder
takes place at a crisis hotline in Bonita Beach,
California. When a listener is murdered, Tony and Shahla team up to
uncover the strange worlds of their callers and find the
killer.

His Lillian Morgan
mysteries,
Catch a Falling Knife
and
Thirteen
Diamonds
, explore the secrets of
retirement communities. Lillian, a retired mathematics professor
from North Carolina, is smart, opinionated, and loves to solve
puzzles, even when they involve murder.

Alan splits his time
between writing and walking, another passion. His inspirational,
prize-winning book,
Walking the World:
Memories and Adventures
, has information
and adventure in equal parts. He is also the author of
Walking to Denver
, a
light-hearted, fictional account of a walk he did.

Freedom’s Light: Quotations
from History’s Champions of Freedom
,
contains quotations from some of our favorite historical figures
about personal freedom.
The Saga of Bill
the Hermit
is a narrative poem about a
hermit who decides that the single life isn’t all it’s cracked up
to be.

Alan lives with his wife,
Bonny, on a hill in Southern California. His website is
alancook.50megs.com
.