Miss Julia Stands Her Ground (24 page)

Hazel Marie straightened her shoulders, sniffed one more time, and said, “Not yet. I have to do something first. Etta Mae helped me see that I have to face him down. We talked all night, and now she's about half sick and had to go to the doctor. But I'm not waiting for her. I'm going to nail that man's sorry hide to the wall all by myself.”

“No, you're not,” I said. “I'm going with you, but let's go home first. I'll pull over, and you lead the way.”

“I think I jus' miss something,” Lillian said, looking from one to the other of us. “Whose hide we gonna be nailin'?”

Hazel Marie's eyes took on a hard glint, and between clenched teeth, she said, “Lonnie, that lyin' hypocrite, Whitmire's.”

As I followed Hazel Marie's car on our way home, I thought of all the backflips I'd done to keep her from knowing about Lonnie Whitmire. Somewhere along the line she must've recalled more than a familiar face. I hated to think what that might be, but I wasn't about to let her get away from me again.

Pulling into the driveway behind Hazel Marie's car, I took up as much room as I could to prevent her from flying out of there again. Lillian had ridden back with her—another device to keep our wayward girl in line.

As we got into the house, Hazel Marie said, “I need to take a quick shower and change my clothes. I've been in these since yesterday. Then I'm going after Lonnie.” She started toward the stairs, then whirled around. “What time is it?”

“A little before one,” I told her. “Hazel Marie, do you know where this Lonnie Whitmire is?”

“Etta Mae told me. I want to get this done before Lloyd gets home.” And out of the room and up the stairs she went.

Lillian turned to me, leaned close, and whispered, “Who that man she goin' after?”

“Somebody she used to know.” I whispered back, realizing that I'd not kept Lillian up to date. “He's hooked up with Brother Vern and is just a tool in his hands.”

“Law, look like he want to be more'n that.” Then, with a sudden frown, she asked. “You say tool or fool?”

“Both. It's like this, Lillian. Brother Vern's using him to hold Hazel Marie's past over her head, only she's had enough of it, and so have I. Except I'm not supposed to know what's going on, so don't say anything.”

“No'm, but you be better off, you don't keep it all to yo'self. You want somethin' to eat now?”

“Lord, Lillian, I can't eat anything at a time like this. I've got to be ready to go when she is.” Hearing the shower running above us, I said, “Maybe a quick sandwich.”

Then recalling the answering machine, I hurried over to it. The light was blinking, so I waved for Lillian to come over.

“Look, Lillian, we have a call. Make sure I'm doing this right so we don't lose it.” I gingerly pushed the Play button and waited while the thing rewound itself. “I hope it's Sam saying he's on his way home.”

“Maybe it Mr. Pickens.”

Either one would've done, but it was Pastor Ledbetter. “Miss Julia?” His deep voice came over the machine with such authority that I almost picked up the receiver. “I'd like to come over this afternoon and get this matter settled. I'm sure with a little praying and counseling, you'll see that for the peace and order of the church, you'll want your name omitted from the election slate. I thought I'd hear from you before this, but . . . Well, I'll see you later today and we'll talk.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” I said. “I don't have time to worry with him. See, Lillian, that's the problem with these machines. People can reach you even when you're not here, and that means you can't get out of anything.”

“Well, maybe you be gone with Miss Hazel Marie when he come, an' you get out of it that way.”

“Call him back, Lillian, and tell him today is not convenient. Do it after we leave.”

She started shaking her head, as she headed for the counter to make sandwiches. “No, ma'am. Uh-uh. Not my place to be callin' yo' pastor an' gettin' you outta talkin' to him. That's yo' business, not mine.”

“Well, they Lord, Lillian. If I call him, he'll keep me on the phone for an hour. By the time he gets through, he won't need to come over. Well, . . .” I threw up my hands, “he'll just have to take his chances. Now Lillian, tell me what Hazel Marie said in the car. Did she say anything about what happened yesterday, what upset her so bad and all that? I mean, I know Brother Vern is enough to upset anybody, but was it anything in particular?”

“No'm, she don't say much. She jus' hunker down over the wheel an' drive like nobody's business.”

“Yes, I noticed. I could hardly keep up with her. But surely she said something. You know, why she was gone all night and what she's planning to do now.”

“No'm, she jus' ast me to watch out for Little Lloyd, case she don't get back 'fore he come home. An' I had to say I would, but I sho' hate to stay here while y'all out nailin' that man's hide to the wall.” She put a plate of sandwiches on the table. “You want milk or tea?”

“Coffee. Lillian, I declare, you should've
asked
her. Started her talking, so we'd know something.”

“It not up to me to be doin' such as that. 'Sides, you the one wants to know, so you ast her.”

I rolled my eyes as I bit into a ham and cheese sandwich. “All right then,” I said. “I will. But don't blame me if we end up at that Whitmire man's house with Hazel Marie running wild and me not knowing how to handle it.”

“Don't worry, I won't,” she said, in such a complacent manner that I almost choked on the sandwich.

Hearing Hazel Marie clomping down the stairs, I hurriedly finished my lunch and jumped up from the table. She bounded into the kitchen dressed in fresh jeans, another heavy sweater,
and ankle boots. Her hair was combed and her makeup freshly applied. She jabbed her arms into the sleeves of a three-quarter-length coat, which she had assured me was the “coat of the season” this year, and she was ready for action.

“If I don't get back in time,” she said, hurrying past the table on her way to the door, “tell Lloyd I'll see him.”

“Just one minute, young lady.” I grabbed my coat and pocketbook. “You're not leaving without me.”

“An' you need to eat somethin',” Lillian put in.

“Etta Mae fixed a big breakfast,” she said, scooping up my keys from the table. “I'll take your car, Miss Julia, if you don't mind. You didn't leave me enough room to get out.”

“Lillian,” I said, struggling to get into my coat, “when Sam and Mr. Pickens get here, . . . Hazel Marie, wait!”

She was out of the house, hell-bent for my car, and I had to run to catch up. She stood by the open door of the car, her hair whipping in the wind, and watched as I caught up with her.

“You don't want to be a part of this,” she said. “It's something I need to do myself. I'm going to have it out with him, and it's likely to get pretty nasty.”

“What? I can't get nasty, too? I'm going, Hazel Marie, so resign yourself. I'm not about to let you face that man without me.” I stood on the other side of the open door, holding onto it so she couldn't get in and lock it.

She stared at me, her eyes watering in the cold. Or maybe just watering. “I don't think you know what this is about, Miss Julia, and I don't think you want to know. Lonnie Whitmire is somebody I knew years ago. I didn't recognize him yesterday in church, because he's really changed. He used to have a little wispy beard on his chin.”

“Well, he still has wisps, only not on his chin. But, Hazel Marie, I don't care who you used to know. If he's bothering you now, let me help you put him in his place. Or we can sic Coleman on him.”

She finally broke her gaze and looked down, leaning her head on the cold metal of the door. “It's more than that, Miss Julia. He's hooked up with that uncle of mine, who'd do anything in the world to put me down in your eyes.” She sniffed, then rubbed her nose. “When I realized who he was, I knew there was no telling what they'd be saying about me.”

“Lord goodness, Hazel Marie. You think I'd believe a word out of the mouth of either one of them?” I caught my own mouth with my teeth, thinking frantically. She didn't know about Brother Vern's visitations to Sam and me. She didn't know that he'd brought Lonnie Whitmire, looking for all the world like Wesley Lloyd Springer, right to our very door. She didn't know that Sam and I knew that Brother Vern had thrown Little Lloyd's paternity up for grabs. As far as she knew I was completely in the dark, and I intended to let her keep on thinking that way.

It didn't bother me a bit to pretend ignorance. In fact, I didn't turn a hair as I lied through my teeth. “I don't know what you think Brother Vern said yesterday to make you run off that way. All I heard was the same old ranting and raving he's always done. For my money, it was nothing new, even if he did drag Deacon Lonnie to our church. So you knew him. So you even dated him a while, if you did. That's nothing that should bother you now. Lord,” I went on, “I'd hate to have some of my old suitors show up in church. Considering what some of them were like, I'd be embarrassed to death, just like you were.”

She turned her head but didn't lift it, just cut her eyes up at me, like she wanted to be sure I meant what I was saying. “But what if maybe they were saying ugly things about you,” she whispered. “And you couldn't prove they weren't true? What about if that happened?”

“There's always a way to prove the truth, if it even needs proving. And I have the means to find it.” I didn't mention that it might involve hiring a backhoe or a front-end loader. “Now,” I went on, as I started around the car, “let's go find Lonnie
Whitmire and stop whatever he's been cooking up with Brother Vern.”

She slid into the car while I got in the other side. She sat there for a few minutes, mostly staring out of the windshield, but darting an occasional sideways glance at me. “I wish you wouldn't, Miss Julia. Go with me, I mean. He could say some awful things about me. He's done it before.” She clasped the top of the steering wheel with both hands, then leaned her head against them, hiding her face. “I don't want you to hear what he's going to say. You won't think much of me after that.”

“Let me tell you something, Hazel Marie,” I said. “If what I think of you could be changed by what a stranger says, then I'd be a sorry friend to have. And another thing, the times you most feel like hiding away in a closet are exactly the times you ought to hold your head up high and stare down your detractors.

“Now crank this thing up,” I said, shivering in my coat, “I'm about to freeze to death.”

I make it a practice to give advice whenever I see that someone needs it, so I was pleased that my little pep talk seemed to put some steel in Hazel Marie's backbone. She sat up, cranked the car, and peeled out of the driveway so fast that I had to grab the armrest.

“You know where we're going?” I asked.

“Etta Mae told me where he works.”

Her mouth was set in such a firm line that I wondered how she got the words out. I tried a few more conversational stabs, mentioning the number of cars on the road, Little Lloyd's report card that would be coming out soon, and how cold it had gotten. But she wasn't in the mood for chitchat, so I finally subsided, realizing that she had her mind set on one thing, and it wasn't the state of the weather.

Looking around and noting the turn she had made, since it had nearly snapped my head off, I said, “We're going to Delmont?”

“He works at the American Dollar store there.”

“Well, I say. I've never been in one of those, but you see them all over. What does he do?”

“Manager, I think.”

I couldn't get any more out of her, so I entertained myself by looking out the window. I was trying to keep a serene demeanor,
but taking deep breaths and tapping my fingers on the armrest probably didn't come across as the most unruffled indicators of my state of mind. I didn't want to let on that I was torn up inside with fear of what Lonnie Whitmire was going to say and with worry of what she was going to do.

“You know, Hazel Marie, it used to be that we had five-and-dimes everywhere you looked. But you don't see them anymore. Now it's just dollars and Penney's.”

I think she nodded, but I couldn't be sure, because she whipped us into a parking lot that ran in front of a strip mall on the east side of Delmont. She pulled up in front of the American Dollar store, threw the car in park, and out the door she went. I had to hurry to keep up.

Lord, the inside of the store was a wonder. It was long and narrow, with rows of shelving running the length of the store, and all the shelves and the floor under them were packed with every consumer item you could think of. And each one of them selling for a dollar? I'd have to come back some day when I had time to shop.

Hazel Marie walked right up to the stout woman at the cash register, unheedful of the customers lined up to check out. “I need to see Lonnie Whitmire. Where is he?”

The woman, who was moving as slow as Christmas in the first place, gave her a sullen glance but kept turning a garment around and around, looking for the sale price. “You'll have to get in line.” She nodded at the three customers who were waiting.

But Hazel Marie didn't have standing in line in mind. “You could've told me what I want to know in the time it took to tell me to get in line. Now, get him out here or I'm going through this store like Sherman through Georgia.”

The woman stopped her search and looked up, her face going slack. She stepped back from the counter and came up against the cash register. “I'm calling the police.”

“Call them. I don't care,” Hazel Marie said, slapping her hand
on the counter. “Just get Lonnie out here, and we'll see who needs the police.”

“Mr. Whitmire,” the woman mumbled, correcting Hazel Marie. “He's in the back. In the office. But he can't be disturbed.”

“Huh,” Hazel Marie said, with a switch of her shoulders. “We'll just see about that.”

She took off, heading down one of the aisles with me right behind her. There was so much merchandise stacked on the floor that we couldn't walk abreast even if I'd been able to keep up with her. I declare, I'd never seen so much stuff crammed into one store. There were grocery items, toys, clothing on circular racks, cleaning supplies, grills, gardening tools, and I don't know what all. And probably every last one of them made in China or Japan or Hong Kong, right there on display in the American Dollar store.

Hazel Marie wasn't interested in the merchandise. She headed straight for a door in the back with a sign saying Employees Only and pushed through it. I was two steps behind her, but we were brought up short by stacks of boxes and cartons waiting to be opened. Flattened boxes and packing materials littered the floor, at least what I could see of it, for the light was dim and the windows crusted with grime.

Hazel Marie didn't let any of that delay her. She began weaving in and out of the stacks of cartons until we saw an office cubicle enclosed with glass panels in the back corner. Inside it, Deacon Lonnie, with his shirt unbuttoned at the neck and his tie pulled down, sat behind a desk. He had his sleeves rolled up, and he was scratching his head with the hand that held a cigarette. Lord, if I hadn't known better, I'd have thought it was Wesley Lloyd Springer sitting there.

Hazel Marie took a bead on the man and threw the door open, slamming it back with such force that the whole office shook from the impact. Then she barreled in, startling Lonnie Whitmire so bad that he sprang from his chair, toppling it over and
flipping the cigarette out of his hand and up in the air. He brushed frantically at his white shirt as the sparks flew.

“Why, why,” he sputtered, snatching up the cigarette and burying it in an overflowing ashtray. “What's the meaning of this? You can't just come barging in here. . . .” Then recognition spread across his face, and he began backpedaling. “Why, Hazel Marie Puckett. Long time no see. Uh, what're you doing here?”

“You
know
what I'm doing here,” Hazel Marie said, her face scrunched up so bad that even I took a step back. She put her fists on his desk and leaned over it toward him. He stepped back until he was stopped by the wall.

“Why, I don't have any idea, but it, uh, sure is nice to see you again.” Lonnie Whitmire's eyes were darting all around, looking for a way out. But he would've had to get past Hazel Marie first, and then me. And I was standing in the door.

“You won't think it's so nice by the time I get through with you.” Hazel Marie shoved the desk, sending it closer to Mr. Whitmire. “I want to know what you've been telling that uncle of mine. What've you been saying about me?”

“Why, Hazel Marie,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and turning his palms up, like he didn't know what she was talking about. “I don't know what you're talking about.” But his face was red, and he couldn't look her in the eye, so he certainly did.

“Yes, you do, you lyin' polecat.” Hazel Marie was so mad that spit was flying out of her mouth. Lonnie Whitmire cringed out of firing range. “So let's hear it. Just tell me right now, right to my face, if you've got the nerve. Which you don't. And you never did. You were always a sneak, Lonnie Whitmire, and that's what you've been doing to me. Sneaking around and telling tales and lying about me and giving Uncle Vern another stick to beat me over the head with.”

“Now, Hazel Marie, you know I wouldn't do that,” Lonnie said, pleading innocence just as any tattletale will do. “You and me, we had us some good times once upon a time. You know we did.”

“I don't know any such thing!” Hazel Marie shoved the desk another inch or two. “I don't know where you get off, thinking a couple of movies and a hamburger add up to some good times.”

Hearing her confirm that she had been out with him, I sagged against the door.

“Now, Hazel Marie,” he said, with just the hint of a smirk. “You know it was a little more than that.”

“I don't know any such thing! Now you listen to me, Lonnie Whitmire,” Hazel Marie told him, as she trembled so bad she had to hold onto the desk. “Whatever ideas you've put in my uncle's head, you better get them out, and get them out
now.
I'm not going to put up with it, and you can put that in your pipe and smoke it.”

“But I didn't . . .”

“Yes, you did, too! There's no where else he could've gotten it. And I don't care if he misunderstood or if he made it out to be more than you said or what. It came from
you,
and you better get it straightened out. And I don't mean maybe, either.”

Hazel Marie straightened herself up, crossed her arms over her heaving bosom, and glared at him. Her hot anger seemed to dissipate, and her voice grew low and cold. “You don't want to take me on, Lonnie, I promise you. I have powerful friends in this town, and one of them is standing right behind me.”

I pulled my shoulders back, put a hard glint in my eye, and tried to look powerful.

“Mrs. Julia Springer Murdoch,” Hazel Marie went on, “can buy and sell you and this store, too. And if you don't put a cork in Vernon Puckett, you're going to find out that I mean what I say.”

“Why, sure, Hazel Marie,” Lonnie said, all too eager now to pacify her. “Sure, I'll do that. It was just a little misunderstanding, that's all it was. But I'll set him straight, bet your boots, I will.” An appeasing grin spread across his face as he pulled out a handkerchief and patted his forehead. “Would you ladies like something to drink?”

Hazel Marie snorted, but delicately. “I wouldn't have a drink with you if you were the last man on earth. Come on, Miss Julia, I've had enough of this.”

She charged toward the door, making me step lively to get out of her way. Then she whirled around and threw one last threat at him. “I'm watching you, Lonnie, and if you want to work in this store and live in this town, you'll mind your own business.”

She headed out through the stockroom and banged open the door into the store, with me right behind her and Lonnie right behind me. As she strode up an aisle, her arms swinging and her boots clomping with every step, Lonnie stopped and flung out the last word. “Fine, but you're both crazy! I don't care what that uncle of yours promises, it ain't worth the aggravation!”

Hazel Marie was halfway up the aisle and paid no attention. But I did, and I understood right then that Brother Vern had paid for Lonnie's testimony. That's called suborning perjury, if I'm not mistaken.

And with that uplifting thought I hurried after Hazel Marie, all the while marveling at how she'd stood up for herself. She was marching up that aisle, holding her head so high that it brushed a blue stuffed animal off a shelf. She grabbed it and sent it winding with no thought of where it would land.

I ducked and plowed on after her, but I had to pick up my pace right smartly to keep her in sight.