I got up extra early the next morning and headed to the cotton gin. It is a great gathering place for just about anybody. Well, I guess school teachers and jewelry store owners wouldn’t hang out there. Come to think of it, we don’t even have a jewelry store in this town. I justify going there because it has one of the few Tom’s candy machines in town, and I love those peanut butter bars they sell. And sometimes one of the old farmers feels sorry for me and will buy a Dr Pepper for me.
As I suspected, all the talk was about Jake, Collette, and Ron. Jake was a hippy biker, a drug dealer, and worse. Collette was a tramp and a few other words I didn’t understand. And in their eyes, Ron was a big city preacher who was only ‘in it for the money’. That’s what half of the men said, at least. Some defended Ron, some defended Jake, but nobody had anything good to say about Collette.
“If your new preacher was ‘in it for the money’,” said one of the Methodists in the crowd, why did he leave a town three times this big for such a small church?”
“I don’t know. He just started out being buddy-buddy to two drifters instead of the church members who hired him. That’s just not right.”
Merle Wilson, who I don’t think goes to church anywhere, spoke up. “When you say drifter, are ya’ll talking about that bald welder who drives that ten year old blue Ford pick-up?”
“Yeah. He says he’s a welder. I’m not sure anyone in town believes him.”
“Then why did I see him just now over at Willie’s paying $150.00 cash for new gloves, welding rods, a new shield for his goggles, a thirty foot set of hoses and other stuff. I wouldn’t sink that kind of cash just to pretend I was a welder.”
“You would if you made thousands selling drugs and you wanted us to think something else until you sold that mind blowing trash to our kids!”
“Drug dealers don’t hang around Baptist churches, Hank”
“But what about all them tattoos? Somebody said he even had them on his…” The man saw me standing there and stopped. “He’s supposed to have them all over his body.”
“How would you know? Did you ask or did you peek?” Everybody in the gin laughed at that one. The man got embarrassed and left.
“So the big question is, are the welder and that lady husband and wife, living together, or just friends?”
“Who knows these days. There are three couples right here in town that are living together and not married. Twenty years ago I would have never thought that would happen here.”
You know what the funny thing about all this is? Every man in the room knows I live at the Sunset, and if they would have just asked, I would have told them Jake and Collette lived in separate rooms and only knew each other for two days now. But, they didn’t ask, and I didn’t offer.
After awhile I got bored and went back home. I made myself a sandwich and then made one for Mom and took it to her. She apologized for yelling at me the night before. I went back outside and saw Collette sitting in a lawn chair in front of her door. In the summer, all the rooms at the Sunset stay on the warm side. They never do get cool or cold like the Dairy Queen. Collette’s room never even gets to warm. I think it stays hot. So most people who get her room in the summer either stay outside most of the day, or they check out and go down the road to the next town.
I pulled a chair up close to her and sat down. She didn’t look up.
“Hi,” I said. She still didn’t look up. “I’m sorry about yesterday. At Dairy Queen I mean. Mr. Jackson can be a little rude sometimes.”
“Well, if all the people at that ‘so-called’ church are like him, I won’t be going back anytime soon.”
“I know how you feel. I’ve been called a few names myself.”
“Why do you keep going back?”
“I’m all by myself and my mom is usually dr…busy on Sunday afternoon, so I go to just be around people. It’s kind of fun.”
“Ron and Jake are pretty cool aren’t they?” I asked.
“If you are talking about the pastor and his wife, they were more than neighborly. As for Jake, he helped me when I got into town the other night. I think he could become friends with anybody. He is really nice, but he’s not part of that church. He’s only in town for a month or so. He’s working out on some oil drilling rig and then he’ll be gone. So I don’t put much hope in that church playing ‘mother hen’ to someone like me.” She finally looked down at me and smiled. “You’re mom is the lady who runs this place, right?”
“Yeah.”
“She was real nice. She didn’t charge me full price. I’m kind of starting over in life and she helped me.”
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, but I lived in New York City for thirteen years. I just got burned out and had to get out of the big city. I guess this is quite a change, isn’t it?”
“It sure is. You say your house burned down?” I asked.
Collette giggled a little. “No. Being ‘burned out’ means I just got tired of what I was doing and I need to make a change. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Try to find a job, I guess.”
“What do you do?”
I watched as Collette took in a deep breath and looked away from me.
“I’m …I…how do I say this? I’m an entertainer. I perform for people on stage.”
“You’re an actress, like Sandra Bullock. I like her. Did you see her in…”
“No! I’m not an actress. I dance. But I can’t go back to that. My life has been miserable. I hate it. Most girls…women…don’t ever get out. Many die of some disease or a drug overdose. I just walked away and bought a bus ticket. You just don’t know…what is your name? I can’t remember.”
“Randy Simpson.”
“Randy. I have had a horrible life. You wouldn’t understand. I was sixteen when I ran away from home. I haven’t seen my family since then. It was the dumbest thing I ever did. You’re mom might be poor, and alcoholic, but she is all you have. Don’t throw that away. My parents weren’t mean or abusive. They were just too busy to care for me. A maid cooked every meal I ate at home for the last two years. My ‘old man’, my father, was never in town. I was stupid. And I’ve paid for it every day since then. I thought I would die if I spent another day dancing, so I spent half of what I had on a bus ticket and this is as far as I got. I was hoping I would find things different in a small town, but it looks like I made enemies pretty quickly. And then, to top everything off, I got robbed Saturday night.”
“Yeah. Mom made me sit inside while the police car was here. She never lets me see the good stuff. I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean it was good you got robbed. I just…”
“That’s Ok, Randy. I know it must be exciting to see policemen at work in a sleepy little town like this. The problem was, the worst possible clothes I could have had to wear to church was what I was wearing when I got robbed. What I wore on Sunday was all I had. I don’t think many people agreed with my ‘Sunday best’. Jake was real nice to me and tried to convince me no one would notice. Mrs. Anderson gave me a few pieces of clothes and some money to buy some more also. She was more than kind. She even came by here today just to say ‘hi’. I probably shouldn’t have gone in the first place.”
“Don’t write them all off, ma’am. Like I said, I’ve had my share of totally rude comments. But some of the people at Riverstone have been very, very nice to me. They buy me meals, slip me gum and snacks during church, and I’ve gotten a few Christmas presents with no names on them and I’m pretty sure they were from somebody at church.”
“I wouldn’t count on my becoming a regular member there. There or anywhere.”
My mom then yelled out of the office door and asked me to take the trash from the office to the dumpster. I have two or three jobs around the Sunset, and that is one of them.
As much as I wanted to, I hardly saw Jake or Collette until the next Sunday. Jake asked me to go back to Riverstone for their Wednesday night ‘prayer meeting’ which I had never been to. He got in from work late that night, so neither of us went. I saw Collette going into a bunch of businesses dressed up real nice. Not like she was Sunday, but still very pretty. I guessed she was looking for a job. If she was, she has been working hard at it.
I went back to Goldstein’s on Friday afternoon and got an earful about Collette. Mrs. Bagby, whose husband owns the town’s only newspaper, was laughing her head off.
“Yes!” she told a few of her friends. “That ‘Riverstone Tramp’, that’s what the girls and I have been calling her, she had the audacity to walk in my husband’s office and actually ask for a job.
‘I don’t have any experience, but I’ll try anything, sir’ she said. ‘I can’t write stories or anything, sir, but I can help clean up, and run errands, or deliver papers, something.’ You know what my husband said? ‘Lady, instead of you writing stories, we should be writing stories about you. Your kind shouldn’t even be allowed to live here.’ He put her in her place.”
“Well, good for him, Mrs. Bagby. Tell him thank you for me. I would want to say the same things to her, but I would die if I spoke face to face with a woman like her,” said a woman I didn’t know.
“The ‘Riverstone Tramp’, I like that,” said another woman.
Mrs. Rogers, the Riverstone organist had walked up a few moments before and heard the last few statements. “The ‘Riverstone Tramp’? How dare you, Mrs. Bagby! I don’t like her any more than you do, but don’t you dare put the fine name of Riverstone Baptist on her. She visited once. Do you understand? Once. She has no connection with us at all.” She turned quickly and walked out. She was mad.
“Touchy-touchy,” said Mrs. Bagby as the group broke up and all the ladies left.
Next, Mr. Harold Wiggins walked in. He is the pastor of the Methodist church in town. As he was paying for a bottle of aspirin, Mrs. Goldstein leaned over and whispered quietly, but I heard her anyway.
“Has that lady showed up at your church, also, pastor?”
“And who would that be, Mrs. Goldstein?”
“Well, I haven’t seen her, but you know. That lady that made such a stir at Riverstone Baptist this last Sunday?”
“I guess I haven’t met her. Do you know her name?” I could tell the pastor was toying with her. He knew who she was talking about, he just didn’t want to get involved with all the gossip.
“Collette something…I don’t know her last name. Some say she is a prostitute, some say she is dealing drugs with some tattooed biker guy over at the Sunset. They say she came strutting into Riverstone dressed like a…” she leaned over and I didn’t hear what she said.
“Well, you know what I think about this whole situation?” asked Mr. Wiggins.
“No. Please tell me.”
“The first time she walks into my church…”
“Yes?”
“The first time she walks into my church I will greet her with a smile and welcome her to our congregation.” He turned with a smile and left Mrs. Goldstein leaning over the counter with her mouth open.
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