A Death On The Wolf (28 page)

“
Let who stay here out of sight?”

“
Frankie.”

“
Frankie Thompson?”

“
Yes,” Daddy said.

“
All right,” Dick said, sounding both curious and worried at the same time. “What’s this all about?”

“
Brother to Brother?” Daddy said.

“
And no further,” Dick replied.

“
Frank Thompson got drunk the other night and nearly killed his son. Yesterday he pulled all of Frankie’s things into their front yard and set fire to ’em. Frankie has been staying with us and today Preston Marks got me emergency custody of Frankie. Joe Posey is gonna serve the order on Frank in a few minutes and I want Frankie out of the way.”

Dick turned and looked at me. “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

“
I appreciate it, Dick,” Daddy said. “Keep an eye out for Frank. He’ll be trouble.”

“
If he brings his ass around here he’s liable to get a load of buckshot in it.”

Daddy cracked a brief smile. “You still got that old Fox double behind the counter in there?” he asked.

“
Yep. And it’s loaded with double-ought.”

“
Run on and get him, son,” Daddy said to me. So I trotted over to my car and headed home to get Frankie.

When I got to the house, Aunt Charity was pulling out of her driveway with my sister and Mary Alice in the backseat of her Cadillac. I waved, but Aunt Charity didn’t see me, or maybe she just wasn’t used to my new car and didn’t recognize it. Frankie was sitting on the front porch, apparently waiting for me. He’d changed out of my clothes and into his new Izod polo shirt and a pair of the khaki shorts we’d purchased earlier. And he had on his new sneakers.

“
Hey,” I said as I walked up on the porch.

“
Miss Charity said your dad was coming to get me,” Frankie said.

“
He sent me. Do you know what’s going on?”

“
No.”

“
Daddy got the court order giving him custody of you. I think he’s going with the sheriff to give a copy of the order to your dad. He wants you to come down to the station with me in case your dad flips out again and comes looking for you.”

Frankie stood up. “How do I look in my new clothes?”

“
You look fine. Did you hear what I just said?”

“
I heard you.”

“
And?”

“
And what? I’m tired of thinking about my dad and I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“
Okay.”

“
Let’s go then,” Frankie said as he brushed by me and down the porch steps.

— — —

The rest of that afternoon at the station was uneventful. When Dick closed up at six o’clock, I just left my car parked there and Frankie and I walked down the street to the Bobby Dean Diner. Aunt Charity’s Cadillac was parked on the street, so I knew they were there. But I didn’t see Daddy’s pickup anywhere, which worried me.

“
Where’s Daddy?” I asked as I sat down at the table beside Mary Alice. We were at the same big table in the back where Daddy had had my birthday lunch. Before Aunt Charity could answer we both saw him come through the front door.

“
Everybody hungry?” Daddy said as he sat down.

“
How’d it go?” I asked.

“
We’ll talk about it later,” he answered.

“
I’m hungry,” Frankie declared, no doubt grateful for my father’s deferment of any conversation about the situation that had brought us all to the diner.

“
You’re always hungry,” I said.

Dinner was pleasant enough as we all tried to act normal for Frankie’s sake. He seemed to be the most unaffected as he consumed two hamburgers and a pile of French fries over Aunt Charity’s protests. I got the chicken and dumplings and some of Bobby Dean’s famous cornbread.

Even though we were surrounded by family and the patrons of the diner, I was happy to be spending some time with Mary Alice. We held hands under the table as we ate. I felt like I’d been neglecting her ever since we got back from Jackson. Though she had not been privy to any of it firsthand, Mary Alice was now fully aware of the situation with Frankie, but she and I had yet to discuss it privately.

When we got home, Daddy said he wanted to talk to Frankie alone and since Frankie’s bed still needed to be assembled, the two of them were doing that now, and talking, in Frankie’s room. Sachet was over at Aunt Charity’s where she was going to spend the night. Mary Alice and I were on the front porch. I was in the rocker and she was in my lap.

“
You know what two weeks from today is, don’t you?” I whispered in her ear as we rocked back and forth.

“
Yes,” she replied and then added, “You’re not going to start that again, are you?”

August 22 was the day Aunt Charity was supposed to return Mary Alice to the Masonic home in Poplarville. For nearly two weeks I’d managed to keep thoughts of her departure at bay, not counting the brief but nerve-racking episode with her brother. But now with that date nearly upon us, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep from thinking about it. “Did you mean what you said about coming here every weekend if I’ll come get you?” I asked.

“
Of course. And you know, us being away from each other during the week will be good—especially after you start back to school.”

“
How do you figure that?” I asked.

“
It will give you a chance to meet other girls to date without having to worry about me. And on those weekends when you want to be with other girls, you can just call and let me know that you won’t be picking me up that weekend.”

Up until that point I’d been rocking us gently in the warmth of the early evening sunshine. But with these strange words coming from Mary Alice’s mouth, I stopped the rocker. “What are you talking about?” I said in disbelief. “I don’t want to be with any other girls.”

“
You know that’s not true, Nelson.”

“
It is true…wait a minute. Do you want to date other boys?”

“
Yes, of course. I have two boyfriends at the home in Poplarville.”

“
Two?” I croaked.

“
Yes, and one of them is my fiancé.” Mary Alice started giggling and I knew I’d been had. This was a devilishly mischievous side of her I’d not encountered before.

“
That was mean,” I said. I set the rocker back in motion and resumed breathing. She slapped my hand, which was resting on her lap. “Ouch,” I said in a feigned whine. “That hurt.”

“
Want me to kiss it and make it better?” Mary Alice asked.

I didn’t have to answer. She had already taken my hand in hers and moved it to her lips. Since Mary Alice had broached the topic, I decided to pursue it with a question that had more or less been in the back of my mind since the drive back from Jackson. “If we could get married, Mary Alice, would you marry me?”

I waited for an answer. Mary Alice was still holding my hand to her lips. Finally she said, “Your fingers smell like cornbread.”

I let out an exasperated puff. “How romantic,” I said. “Just what a guy wants to hear when he asks a girl to marry him.”

Mary Alice was giggling again, teasing me, while I was trying to be serious. “Yes,” she finally said, “I’ll marry you.”

“
I’m serious,” I protested.

“
So am I. That’s why I told Beau you would be my husband one day.”

Whoa. She’d switched out of humor mode and blindsided me again. “You told him that?” I asked.

“
I did.”

“
Why?”

“
You can be so silly sometimes, Nelson.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
You asked me why. You’re being silly because you know why.”

She was right. I did know why. It was the very reason I’d brought up the subject of marriage in a serious way, albeit as seriously as a sixteen-year-old could. “Because we love each other,” I said.

“
That’s right,” she said, leaning back, melting into me with her affirmation. I could only assume Mary Alice was being truthful in saying she had told her brother that we would one day be married. Evidently, he had taken her seriously, for why else would he have done such a quick turnaround regarding her relationship with me? Whatever the reason, I knew I loved her and the thought of Mary Alice as my wife made me smile inside.

These pleasant thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I saw the blue ’65 Galaxie 500 belonging to Frank Thompson pull into our drive. I nudged Mary Alice. “Let me up,” I said. I wanted to get her in the house quickly and tell Daddy, but then I noticed it was Frankie’s mother driving the car as it came to a stop. Frankie’s little brother was in the passenger seat. Mary Alice and I stood up as I watched Judy Thompson and her son get out of the car and walk up to the porch.

“
Hi Miss Judy,” I said to Frankie’s mother. She’d been crying, and I wished I knew what had transpired earlier when Sheriff Posey took that custody order to Frankie’s dad. I could only assume that was what Daddy had wanted to speak about in private with Frankie.

“
Hey Nelson,” Miss Judy said. Mark was at her side and he looked at me with a smile but didn’t say anything.

This was an awkward moment because I was actually unsure if I should invite her in without telling Daddy first. Common courtesy finally directed my decision and I introduced her to Mary Alice and then showed her and Mark into the living room. They both sat on the sofa and I took Mary Alice to my room and asked her to wait there. I went down the hall to Frankie’s room to find him and Daddy putting sheets on his new bed. I told them that Frankie’s mom was here and, as I expected, Frankie ran to the living room. When Daddy and I got there, we found Judy Thompson hugging her son and crying. What I learned next surprised me, but I don’t know why. Frankie’s dad was in jail. When Joe Posey had served a copy of the custody order on him, he took a swing at the sheriff and got himself arrested. Now Frankie’s mom was here to take him home.

“
I can’t let you do that,” Daddy said to her.

“
He’s my son, Lem. He belongs at home. Frank is in jail now and Frankie needs to be at home.”

“
I don’t want to go home, Mama,” Frankie said. As he was the day his father had been sitting on the sofa where his mother was now, Frankie was jammed in beside me in the sitting chair adjacent to Daddy’s recliner. Since he had lived for so long with an abusive father, it occurred to me that maybe for the first time in his life Frankie felt safe.

Miss Judy’s eyes filled with tears as she digested her son’s declaration. “Your daddy’s not there now, Frankie,” she said. “You can come home.”

“
Judy,” my father said, “Frank will be out of jail later tonight or in the morning on bail.”

“
Bail?” she asked, her voice trailing off to almost a whisper. Frankie’s mother had never struck me as being particularly bright, and I could see from the look of surprise on her face that she had assumed her husband was in jail and gone for good. I felt sorry for her because my father had just shattered her illusion of safety.

Daddy plucked two tissues from the box of Kleenex on the table beside his recliner. He handed those to Frankie’s mom and she wiped her eyes and nose. “So what does that order mean that the sheriff left at our house?” she asked. “Are you going to keep my son from me?”

“
Of course not, Judy. I’m not doing this to hurt you and you’re welcome to come visit Frankie whenever you want. But your husband has to stay away from Frankie. That’s part of the order. He almost strangled your son to death, Judy. Frank needs—”

“
Frankie should not have gone to that motel with that man,” she interrupted.

“
True,” Daddy said. “But you can’t sit there and tell me Frank Thompson was right to choke your son over it and then just leave him there. And then he refused to let Frankie come home. And then he set fire to all of Frankie’s things in your front yard. Your husband needs help, Judy.”

“
Frank said he didn’t choke Frankie. He said that man did it.”

“
He did choke me, Mama,” Frankie said. “He slapped me and I kept putting my hands over my face so he wouldn’t hit my broke nose and then he threw me down on the bed and started choking me.”

I didn’t know about Daddy, but I was getting a little put out with Frankie’s mom. Rather than being grateful for what my father was doing for her son, she seemed to be defending the actions of her husband. Evidently, Frankie was tired of this conversation too, because he stood up and said, “Come see my room, Mark.” Frankie motioned for me to follow him and his brother down the hall.

“
It’s little,” Mark said as we entered the room.