I wandered all over town Monday and caught just a very little bit of gossip. People now were either ready to put Ron on a gillit…gee-at…oh that thing they used to use back in the old days in France, or they were ready to defend him to their last breath. One way or the other, most people were keeping to themselves today. I heard very little talk. I did notice quite a few people pointing my way and then they would stop talking or would whisper. Probably many people before last night didn’t realize I was one of those nasty ‘bus-kids’. But today, nobody was talking in front of me.
I went to the cotton gin, Goldstein’s, and all three gas stations in town. Nothing. I was hoping I was wrong about people now knowing me and being quiet around me. I kind of like most people thinking I’m not there. I was walking down Thompson Street and turned the corner and almost ran into Collette.
“Hi, Randy,” she said, with sweat pouring down her face. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just wandering around town. How ‘bout you?”
“Still looking for a job,” she said, looking kind of defeated. She wiped her forehead.
“Not going too good, huh?”
“Well, let me put it this way. A sweltering hot early August in the midwest is not the best time to be relocating, almost broke, and looking for a job. And above that, looking for a job in a town that thinks you are the most evil woman on earth. To answer your question. No, I’m not having a great day.”
Just then, Pastor Wiggins from the Methodist church walked around the corner.
“Hi, …um…” He was looking down at me.
“Randy. Randy Simpson. I live over at the Sunset. You’re the Methodist preacher, right?” He nodded with a big smile.
“Yes, I knew who you were. I couldn’t come up with a name, though. And who is your friend, Randy? I don’t think we have had the privilege.” I wanted to laugh remembering the day that Mr. Wiggins really embarrassed Mrs. Goldstein at the drug store.
“This is Collette. She is new in town, and lives over at the motel. She’s out looking for a job, but it ain’t going very good.”
“You’re the young lady who just moved here from New York, correct?”
“Yes sir,” she answered softly. I think she was sort of ready for him to blast her like others had.
“And the job hunting isn’t going well. I might be able to help.”
I watched as Collette looked up at him. I think she was still leery of him.
“Have you ever heard of Franklin and Farmer Law Firm?” he asked.
“No sir. I don’t think I have ever seen their sign.”
I don’t think I had ever heard of them either, and I had lived here for years. I thought that was really strange.
“You probably would never see them. They are down the hall behind the newspaper office. They are very well hidden. It is just a two man office with one lady who is sort of a secretary, sort of just office help. She is supposed to have a baby in about a week and Mr. Farmer said he was looking to find some replacement help for about ten weeks.”
“But I don’t know how to type…type well, sir. I don’t know if I could be much help to them.”
“Let me give them a call, and you wait a day or two and go visit them. We’ll see what happens. Hey, I’ve got to go. It was so nice meeting you, Miss …”
“Madison, sir. Collette Madison. I really appreciate your help. Thank you.” I watched as he smiled and walked away. “There are a few good people in this town, aren’t there? But then again, maybe he doesn’t know much about me yet.”
“He does, Collette. I know. He is really nice. He’s not a fake,” I said. She said goodbye and walked on, and I went back home. I went into the office and talked to mom for awhile and sat in the lobby and watched an episode of Gilligan’s Island. As soon as it was over, I heard a door slam outside and I went to the window. It was Jake.
“Mom, I’ll be right back. I’m going to say hi to Jake,” I said without waiting for her to answer. I ran out the dirty glass door and ran right up to my good friend. He gave me a smile, but I could kinda’ tell he was rushed.
“Hey squirt!” he yelled as he put out his hand. We shook hands, ‘grown-man style’ and he walked quickly to his door. I followed him. By the time I got to his door, he was kneeling on the floor, trying to get something from under his bed. It made me nervous for a second. I had seen people on drugs for much of my life and they always seemed in a hurry and irrational. What in the world would a guy hide under his bed who was staying in a motel for just a few weeks?
I watched him as he stood up with a huge toolbox. He slammed it on his bed and opened it. He rummaged through it for a second and then finally held up a weird looking tool and a few welding rods. He looked back my way and smiled.
“You want to have a Dr Pepper with me, Jake? There’s some in the lobby.”
He came over and rubbed my hair, messing it up. “I’m sorry, Randy. I’m not finished for the day. I have to go back out to the rig. I might not get into till midnight.
“Is there a problem out there?” I asked.
“No. No problem. It’s just that the weathermen are predicting heavy thunderstorms tomorrow and Wednesday. I have to get a certain part of this job finished before I get delayed by a nasty storm for a day or two. I had to come back for some tools I didn’t think I would need till tomorrow. I’m sorry, bud. I really have to get out there soon. I’ll see you tomorrow night, maybe. Wednesday night for sure. I’ll take you to Riverstone if you want.” I watched as he jumped back into his truck and raced off out of town.
I went back to the lobby and watched some more TV. When the ‘five-thirty’ news came on, they mentioned the storms that Jake had talked about. They seemed like they could be pretty bad. “Mom, it looks like we could have a bad storm here tomorrow or Wednesday.”
“It sure looks like it. Earlier, they said that this same storm system has had two tornadoes. Minor ones though. I’ve lived around here for years and I’ve never seen one. Nothing to worry about.”
Yeah, right! I thought to myself. Tell that to that ‘Dorothy’ girl up in Kansas.
Just as the sports report came on, the phone rang. Mom answered it.
‘Yes? No sir. No sir, I haven’t. Who the he…heck is this?” Mom cursed a lot when we were by ourselves in our own room. But she almost never did while working.
“You are NOT going to tell me how to run my motel. Do you…”
She slammed the phone down and stood there for a minute before coming over to me. “I ought to tell you that you can never go back to that hateful, bigoted church, but I’m just hoping you can get some kind of good teaching from some of the few good people I know are there. You’re right, son,” she said. I hadn’t said a thing. “It was another threatening call. Asking, no, telling me to kick out Jake and Collette. I’ll die first. They even said God would curse this place if I didn’t do what was right.”
Mom sent me back to our apartment for the evening. I read until she closed the office at 11:00 and came home. When she opened the door, I noticed the wind had picked up and there was a little bit of rain coming down. I expected storms that night, but they never came. Just a little higher than normal winds and a slight drizzle.
I went to the cotton gin, Goldstein’s, and all three gas stations in town. Nothing. I was hoping I was wrong about people now knowing me and being quiet around me. I kind of like most people thinking I’m not there. I was walking down Thompson Street and turned the corner and almost ran into Collette.
“Hi, Randy,” she said, with sweat pouring down her face. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just wandering around town. How ‘bout you?”
“Still looking for a job,” she said, looking kind of defeated. She wiped her forehead.
“Not going too good, huh?”
“Well, let me put it this way. A sweltering hot early August in the midwest is not the best time to be relocating, almost broke, and looking for a job. And above that, looking for a job in a town that thinks you are the most evil woman on earth. To answer your question. No, I’m not having a great day.”
Just then, Pastor Wiggins from the Methodist church walked around the corner.
“Hi, …um…” He was looking down at me.
“Randy. Randy Simpson. I live over at the Sunset. You’re the Methodist preacher, right?” He nodded with a big smile.
“Yes, I knew who you were. I couldn’t come up with a name, though. And who is your friend, Randy? I don’t think we have had the privilege.” I wanted to laugh remembering the day that Mr. Wiggins really embarrassed Mrs. Goldstein at the drug store.
“This is Collette. She is new in town, and lives over at the motel. She’s out looking for a job, but it ain’t going very good.”
“You’re the young lady who just moved here from New York, correct?”
“Yes sir,” she answered softly. I think she was sort of ready for him to blast her like others had.
“And the job hunting isn’t going well. I might be able to help.”
I watched as Collette looked up at him. I think she was still leery of him.
“Have you ever heard of Franklin and Farmer Law Firm?” he asked.
“No sir. I don’t think I have ever seen their sign.”
I don’t think I had ever heard of them either, and I had lived here for years. I thought that was really strange.
“You probably would never see them. They are down the hall behind the newspaper office. They are very well hidden. It is just a two man office with one lady who is sort of a secretary, sort of just office help. She is supposed to have a baby in about a week and Mr. Farmer said he was looking to find some replacement help for about ten weeks.”
“But I don’t know how to type…type well, sir. I don’t know if I could be much help to them.”
“Let me give them a call, and you wait a day or two and go visit them. We’ll see what happens. Hey, I’ve got to go. It was so nice meeting you, Miss …”
“Madison, sir. Collette Madison. I really appreciate your help. Thank you.” I watched as he smiled and walked away. “There are a few good people in this town, aren’t there? But then again, maybe he doesn’t know much about me yet.”
“He does, Collette. I know. He is really nice. He’s not a fake,” I said. She said goodbye and walked on, and I went back home. I went into the office and talked to mom for awhile and sat in the lobby and watched an episode of Gilligan’s Island. As soon as it was over, I heard a door slam outside and I went to the window. It was Jake.
“Mom, I’ll be right back. I’m going to say hi to Jake,” I said without waiting for her to answer. I ran out the dirty glass door and ran right up to my good friend. He gave me a smile, but I could kinda’ tell he was rushed.
“Hey squirt!” he yelled as he put out his hand. We shook hands, ‘grown-man style’ and he walked quickly to his door. I followed him. By the time I got to his door, he was kneeling on the floor, trying to get something from under his bed. It made me nervous for a second. I had seen people on drugs for much of my life and they always seemed in a hurry and irrational. What in the world would a guy hide under his bed who was staying in a motel for just a few weeks?
I watched him as he stood up with a huge toolbox. He slammed it on his bed and opened it. He rummaged through it for a second and then finally held up a weird looking tool and a few welding rods. He looked back my way and smiled.
“You want to have a Dr Pepper with me, Jake? There’s some in the lobby.”
He came over and rubbed my hair, messing it up. “I’m sorry, Randy. I’m not finished for the day. I have to go back out to the rig. I might not get into till midnight.
“Is there a problem out there?” I asked.
“No. No problem. It’s just that the weathermen are predicting heavy thunderstorms tomorrow and Wednesday. I have to get a certain part of this job finished before I get delayed by a nasty storm for a day or two. I had to come back for some tools I didn’t think I would need till tomorrow. I’m sorry, bud. I really have to get out there soon. I’ll see you tomorrow night, maybe. Wednesday night for sure. I’ll take you to Riverstone if you want.” I watched as he jumped back into his truck and raced off out of town.
I went back to the lobby and watched some more TV. When the ‘five-thirty’ news came on, they mentioned the storms that Jake had talked about. They seemed like they could be pretty bad. “Mom, it looks like we could have a bad storm here tomorrow or Wednesday.”
“It sure looks like it. Earlier, they said that this same storm system has had two tornadoes. Minor ones though. I’ve lived around here for years and I’ve never seen one. Nothing to worry about.”
Yeah, right! I thought to myself. Tell that to that ‘Dorothy’ girl up in Kansas.
Just as the sports report came on, the phone rang. Mom answered it.
‘Yes? No sir. No sir, I haven’t. Who the he…heck is this?” Mom cursed a lot when we were by ourselves in our own room. But she almost never did while working.
“You are NOT going to tell me how to run my motel. Do you…”
She slammed the phone down and stood there for a minute before coming over to me. “I ought to tell you that you can never go back to that hateful, bigoted church, but I’m just hoping you can get some kind of good teaching from some of the few good people I know are there. You’re right, son,” she said. I hadn’t said a thing. “It was another threatening call. Asking, no, telling me to kick out Jake and Collette. I’ll die first. They even said God would curse this place if I didn’t do what was right.”
Mom sent me back to our apartment for the evening. I read until she closed the office at 11:00 and came home. When she opened the door, I noticed the wind had picked up and there was a little bit of rain coming down. I expected storms that night, but they never came. Just a little higher than normal winds and a slight drizzle.
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