The Hayloft: a 1950s Mystery (20 page)

“I think we’ve learned the lesson.”

To redirect the talk a little, I leaned
across in front of Sylvia and said, so that nobody else could hear,
“Willie was my witness against Dr. Graves.”

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. Then
Sylvia said, “That shoots that strategy down.”

We turned and faced the field as Carter
kicked off to the opposing team.

CHAPTER 20

On Sunday, I drove home to Atherton to have
dinner with my family, amid falling leaves. Dark clouds blotted out
the sun and a cool wind blew, but at least it was dry. I drove the
car onto the driveway of our modest suburban house and parked
it.

Before I could get out, Tom and Archie raced
out of the house and asked, breathlessly, “Did you know the boys
who were killed?”

“I knew them a little.” I wasn’t going to
tell them I had been to a party at their house, because that was
bound to get to my parents, if Aunt Dorothy hadn’t already told my
father. “The younger one was a good athlete.”

“At first, we wondered if it happened at the
crossing beside the farm.”

“It didn’t, but the train was delayed for
several hours and didn’t go by the farm until much later than
usual.”

We chatted about the accident for a couple of
minutes. Then Tom said, “Have you seen Kate?”

“Tommy’s got a girlfriend,” Archie
chanted.

The question stopped me cold. Of all the
questions I was expecting, that was one I wasn’t prepared for. They
had met two weeks ago, and Tom hadn’t mentioned Kate last Sunday
when I was here, so I assumed he had forgotten her.

“I sent her a letter, but she didn’t answer
it,” Tom said, ignoring Archie’s continuing chant.

“She was at the football game yesterday,” I
said lamely. “And she and Ed came over one day after school, and we
played a little basketball.”

“Did she say anything about me?”

“She said how much fun she had that Sunday,”
I said, carefully, not wanting to get Tom’s hopes up too high, but
at the same time not wanting to crush them.

“I guess she’s been busy.”

I hoped he would leave it at that. In any
case, the next time I saw her, I would make it clear to her that I
had a girlfriend. We went in the house where I got the usual kiss
from my mother and handshake from my father. My father asked me to
go upstairs with him. That didn’t sound good.

I followed him upstairs and into his study
where he closed the door. Without even bothering to sit down, he
said, “I hear that you’ve been going around with Michael Doran’s
daughter.”

“Who told you that?” I asked, belligerently.
If I was in trouble, at least I wanted to know the source of
it.

“What does it matter? I’ve heard it from two
people.”

Dr. Graves and Aunt Dorothy. I was getting
hit from all sides.

“And going to parties where liquor is
served.”

I hadn’t told Aunt Dorothy about the beer.
She must have extrapolated from the cause of the accident.

According to the constitution, I had a right
to remain silent. But that hadn’t done Mr. Doran much good, and it
apparently wasn’t going to help me, either.

“If you can’t behave yourself, I’m going to
pull you out of Carter and put you in Pratt School where they have
some discipline,” my father continued. “And you’ll be living at
home where we can keep an eye on you.”

Pratt was a private school in Atherton. If my
father was willing to spend that kind of money, he must be really
upset with me. I couldn’t stand the thought of changing schools
again. It was time to grovel. I spent the next five minutes telling
my father how good I was going to be. I didn’t actually say I was
going to stay away from Sylvia, but a strict interpretation would
have been that I had agreed to everything he wanted me to do. The
fact that I had my fingers crossed mentally would help me about as
much as pleading the Fifth Amendment.

***

I stopped at Sylvia’s house on the way back
to the farm. I didn’t want to talk to her about this on the phone.
Mrs. Doran came to the door in answer to my ring. She smiled at me,
but I had a hard time smiling back because I felt like a rat. I
said I needed to talk to Sylvia for a minute. She went to the
bottom of the stairs and called her. Apparently her rules on
allowing mixed sexes in Sylvia’s room were stricter than Mr.
Doran’s.

Sylvia came downstairs in a couple of
minutes. Her face lit up when she saw me, but again I couldn’t
produce anything resembling a smile. Mrs. Doran had gone into the
kitchen, so she gave me a quick kiss and said, “Are you on your way
back from Atherton?”

“Yes.” I stopped. This wasn’t going to be
easy. “I had a talk with my father. He laid down the law to me.” I
glanced toward the kitchen. “Listen, can we…?”

Sylvia caught my drift and said, “Let’s go
for a walk.” She yelled something to her mother to that effect and
took a coat out of a nearby closet.

Outside it was blustery, but not too cold.
Yet. As soon as we got to the sidewalk, we started holding hands.
We put our spare hands in pockets to keep them warm and walked
slowly up the hill.

I didn’t want to tell her that my father was
a rabid anti-communist, but there didn’t seem to be any way to
avoid it. First I told her about his threat to put me in a private
school and said it was because of the drinking party. She had a
look of horror on her face until I said that I had talked him out
of it, at least for now. Then I said, “He knows that I…know you.
And he knows about your dad.”

“I imagine all of Buffalo knows about Daddy,”
Sylvia said. “But I think what you’re trying to tell me is that he
doesn’t approve of Daddy. Or of me.”

She was too smart by half. But at least it
got the subject on the table. “I have no intention of staying away
from you,” I blurted.

She looked at me and squeezed my hand. “You
have to watch out for yourself, Gary. You don’t want to get into
any more trouble. And if that means staying away from me…”

Was she willing to let me go that easily?
“Look. We can still see each other. We just have to be careful. I
can’t drive you to school. We can’t sit together at lunch. And you
won’t be able to go to the farm.”

“Ah, the light dawns. So who is it, Dr.
Graves and your aunt who are the stoolies?”

“You should be a detective,” I said, managing
a thin smile.

“Okay, we can’t fight city hall. And I
understand from my father that your father works for the city of
Buffalo. But he’ll find out how difficult it is to separate two
people who don’t want to be separated. Or, hopefully, he won’t find
out. We’ll just have to ‘kiss in a shadow,’ as the song from
The
King and I
goes.”

Now I knew why I liked her so much.

CHAPTER 21

On Monday, I went to chess club for the first
time. It was held during last period, which was set aside for
student activities. Clubs met this period, and Sylvia’s student
council met, and anybody who wasn’t a joiner could take study hall.
I had decided that the best way for me to improve my chess game
enough so that I could beat Uncle Jeff was to play more chess.

I didn’t sit with Sylvia, Barney, and Ed at
lunch. I didn’t give the boys a reason why not, leaving that to
Sylvia. I knew she would be discreet, especially in regard to Ed,
who we didn’t want passing on any sensitive information to his
parents that might get to Aunt Dorothy. I sat with two boys from my
math class who I knew wouldn’t talk about how horrible the
communists were and how they shouldn’t be allowed in the
school.

I felt that chess club was safe in that
respect. I knew that Barney was a member, so it was a way for me to
stay in touch with him. The classroom used for the club had wooden
tables in it instead of individual desks. I glanced around as I
walked in late and noticed that most of the members were boys, but
there were a few girls also.

Games were already in progress, with the
players concentrating on their moves. If only they would
concentrate like that in the classroom, their grades would be much
improved. That thought wasn’t original with me; I had heard it from
several adults, in reference to me. I spotted Barney in the corner
setting up chess pieces on a board. He looked up, saw me, and
motioned for me to come over and sit in the chair opposite him.

“I’ve been wanting to play a game with you,”
he said as I sat down. “Pick a color.”

He held out both his hands, each containing a
pawn. I managed to pick black, giving him the right to start. He
moved his king’s pawn two squares forward, and I countered with the
same move. He moved rapidly, and because we were in a limited time
situation, I did the same. He seized the advantage, and before I
knew it, I found myself in an endgame in which we each had a king
and a queen. Unfortunately, he also had several pawns, and I
wouldn’t be able to stop at least one from queening.

My king was in a position in which it
couldn’t move, so I checked Barney’s king with my queen by placing
it right next to the monarch. If he took my queen with his king,
the game would be a stalemate, which was a draw. When he moved his
king, I moved my queen to keep them together. Perpetual check, also
a draw. Kissing your sister. I didn’t know about that, not having a
sister. But better than a loss.

“I thought I had you,” Barney said, conceding
the draw. “I’ll get you next time.” He started to put the pieces
into a box, since the period was nearing an end. He lowered his
voice and leaned forward. “I understand you can’t be seen with
Sylvia.”

I nodded and looked around, not wanting
others to hear the conversation. Those closest to us were still
immersed in their games. “A certain member of the administration
has it in for me,” I said in little more than a whisper. “And
Sylvia. But it isn’t only him. It’s the kids. I don’t care so much
about me, but Sylvia’s life would be a lot easier if they at least
spoke to her. Natalie has a lot of influence. If she acted friendly
toward Sylvia, I think most of the others would fall into
line.”

“Natalie has skeletons in her closet. Listen.
Are you free this afternoon? Come on over to my house. We’ll play
some more chess. And I’ll tell you a few things that might interest
you. You know where I live, don’t you?”

***

Everybody knew where Barney lived because his
father was the town doctor, and his office was in his house. The
house was right on Main Street beyond the hollow, as I drove east
from the high school. I drove down the first hill, passing Sylvia’s
house, into the hollow. I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up a
prescription for Aunt Dorothy. I had to wait a few minutes for it,
and by the time I drove up the hill on other side and parked on the
street in front of the white, two-story, wood house, the bus had
already dropped Barney off.

I went up the wooden steps to the porch that
went around two sides of the house and rang the doorbell three
times. That was the signal that I was here on personal business and
not to see the doctor. I opened the door and went inside. The
waiting room was to the left of the entrance. Half a dozen people
sat on chairs, waiting for their turn in the examining room. Barney
came downstairs and motioned me to follow him up the stairs to the
second floor.

“Your dad does a good business,” I said as he
led the way into his bedroom.

“Now if they would only pay him. Have you
seen the poem in his office? It goes like this:

The Lord and doctor we implore

On the brink of danger, not before.

When the danger is over both alike are
requited:

The Lord is forgotten, the doctor
slighted.
”

“I assume Uncle Jeff and Aunt Dorothy pay
their bill.”

“That wasn’t meant to be personal.”

Bookcases lined two walls, filled with a
variety of books. Barney must read a lot. On a third wall was taped
a newspaper article about anti-vivisectionists, which I took to
mean people who opposed cutting up animals for scientific research.
Barney had taped a hand-lettered sign above the article that read,
“Anti-anti-vivisectionist.”

“Let’s get something to drink,” Barney
said.

He led the way through what must be the
living room into a small kitchen. An equally small woman who was
busily working at the counter turned at our entrance and, speaking
with what sounded to me like a German accent, said, “How was school
today?”

“The usual,” Barney said. “Unicorns in
science and Ben Franklin in history. Or maybe it was the other way
around. This is the new boy I told you about—Gary Blanchard. Gary,
this is my mother.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“He doesn’t talk that way in school, does
he?” Mrs. Weiss asked me. “If he did, I’d think they would throw
him out on his ear.”

“He answers all the questions right in math
class,” I said.

“He has you brainwashed,” she said with a
smile. “Well, as long as he gets decent report cards…”

“I see you’ve spotted the clock,” Barney
said.

I was looking at the clock on the wall over
the refrigerator, which was fifteen minutes fast. I checked my
cheap watch to make sure.

“It’s always been that way,” Barney
continued. “Once we tried setting it to the correct time, but it
made us late.”

So that’s how the smart people lived. Barney
opened the refrigerator and extracted sodas for each of us.

As we left the kitchen, Mrs. Weiss said to
me, “Gary, you look as if you have a good head on your shoulders.
Maybe you can help to keep Barney on the straight and narrow, so
that he won’t act so wild.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Barney said. “Gary’s not
exactly Mr. Clean.”

Fortunately, he didn’t elaborate on that.
Back in his room, Barney said, “I promised to tell you about
Natalie and me. But first, tell me what you know about her.”