The Damn Fool Page 4

drafted, Mr. John, as we called him, knew mom and I couldn't continue with the

  tobacco crop. He arranged for Buddy's family to take over some of our land and

  he sold his allotment for the rest. He let mom and me stay on the place. The

  army checks dad sent home were enough to pay for fuel and electricity."

  "Allotment?"

  She laughed. "I forget you are a city boy. To keep from flooding the market with

  too much tobacco the federal government gives allotments to farmers along with

  price supports. If you don't use your allotment, you can sell it."

  "Do they still do that?"

  She nodded. "They do, but not much longer, I'm afraid. Back then we didn't know

  how harmful tobacco could be. It's just a matter of time before congress ends

  price supports for tobacco and the allotment system will go with it."

  The waitress filled Toni's glass with tea and started towards the next booth.

  "Uh, Miss," Lance said, raising his voice, "I can use more tea also."

  She looked at him blankly, but returned and overfilled his glass, spilling the

  amber liquid on the table. She moved away without apology.

  "When dad died, Mr. John just took over. He made sure there was enough money to

  live on and never asked us to do anything in return. He visited almost every

  day."

  "He did?"

  Toni nodded.

  "Are you telling me that my dad and your mom were, uh, more than friends?"

  "It wasn't ugly, Lance."

  "Why didn't he marry her? We could have been siblings."

  "He offered, but she refused. They lived in different worlds. He would not have

  been comfortable in her world and she wouldn't have fit into his. But I'll tell

  you this � your dad cried more tears than I did when mom passed away."

  "How did � "

  "Lung cancer. Mom always had a cigarette in her mouth. They found the cancer too

  late. She died two weeks after being hospitalized with your dad holding her

  hand."

  "And dad let you continue to live there?"

  "Yes. He offered to send me to college, but that didn't interest me at the time.

  He continued to send a check each month until I graduated from high school. Then

  he told me I could continue to live in the house, but I would have to get a job

  to pay the rest of the bills. It was more than fair."

  "When was the last time you saw my dad?"

  "I don't know � ten years ago I suppose."

  "He just turned his back on you?"

  "Not really. He tried to kick me out of the nest. You have to remember, it was

  my mom he loved."

  They finished their meal without further conversation � Toni remembering Mr.

  John and Lance trying to visualize this unknown side of his father. While

  customers chatted with Toni, Lance paid the bill.

  On the way back to the farm, Toni broke the silence. "I'll move out if you wish,

  or start paying you rent."

  "There is no reason for you to do either right now, Toni. Let's don't cross that

  bridge yet."

  She parked beside the Taurus and left the motor idling. "The road isn't very

  good to my house, but if you take it easy you shouldn't have any trouble with

  the trailer. Just follow me."

  He opened the door and looked at her for several seconds before responding.

  "Toni, it's dark and it's getting late. It's been a long day and I'm exhausted.

  I want to take the U-Haul back to Winston tomorrow, but we can unload my

  computer equipment in the morning."

  "Why Winston?"

  "That's the nearest drop off point."

  "Whatever you say, Lance."

  He slid out of the car, but craned his head back inside. "I have to ask, Toni.

  Are you my sister?"

  She laughed heartily. "I'll show you a picture of my dad sometime. I look so

  much like him its eerie."

  Chapter Three

 

  Lance woke up to the sound of someone beating on the RV door. He pulled himself

  to a sitting position on the side of the bed and stretched as he yawned. The

  pounding continued.

  "Coming!" he shouted. He searched for his robe but could not remember where Toni

  stored it. The knocking continued. "Keep your shirt on! I'm coming!"

  He snatched his watch from the bedside table and tried to focus. Five-thirty �

  even the chickens aren't up yet, he thought. The knocking on the door resumed.

  He pulled on the shorts worn yesterday and stumbled to the front of the RV.

  "Toni!" he said when he opened the door. "Do you realize what time it is?"

  "I know," she said as she pushed past him. "I overslept."

  "Do you always get up this early?"

  She turned and laughed. "You look horrible. I'll put on the coffee. You shave

  and do something with your hair. How anyone with a crewcut can have a bad hair

  day is beyond me."

  He mumbled and returned to the bedroom to dress. The aroma of the brewing coffee

  perked him up a little. He went into the bathroom and prepared for the daily

  ritual of removing his blond stubble.

  "How do you like it?" she called out.

  "In a red mug with one spoon of sugar," he shouted.

  He lathered his face and made one swipe with a safety razor.

  "Shucks," Toni said as she placed the mug on the top of the commode.

  "What's the matter?"

  "You put on a shirt and slacks."

  "So?"

  "So guys aren't the only ones who appreciate a nice pair of legs and a well

  developed chest."

  He glanced at Toni, sitting on the commode as if it were a chair, and continued

  shaving. "I'll admit I've worked hard on muscle development, but my skin is so

  pasty white I don't like for anyone to look."

  She giggled. "You do have a farmer tan."

  He dampened a washcloth and wiped the shaving cream from his face. "What's a

  farmer tan?"

  "A tan face, neck and arms � everything else white. Umm. What's the name of that

  after shave?"

  "Aqua Velva," he replied.

  She stood at his back, circled his waist with her arms, propped her chin on his

  shoulder, and inhaled deeply. "I like it."

  He nodded. "The only thing my wife ever did right. She started me using Aqua

  Velva."

  She backed away. "Your wife?"

  He faced her, holding his toothbrush in one hand and a tube of Colgate in the

  other. "Former wife. We were divorced a long time ago."

  "Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to pry. How do you like your eggs?"

  "You cooking?"

  She nodded. "Breakfast is my specialty."

  "If you're cooking, it's cook's choice. I like them fried and scrambled."

  The mouthwatering fragrance of sizzling bacon pulled him to the kitchen for a

  second cup of coffee.

  "What was she like?" Toni asked as he sat at the table.

  "Zelda? She was pretty. That's for sure. She had flaming red hair and the cutest

  little freckles all over her body. She was barely five foot two, but her stature

  is all that was small about her if you get my drift."

  "Perfect height for you. The man should always be a few inches taller than the

  woman."

  "Oh? Does that mean there's no future for us � you and me?"

  She looked at him curiously.

  "I mean � well � I'm five eight and I'll bet you are about the same."


  Toni cracked eggs into a bowl and began to stir them. "Five seven," she said,

  carefully avoiding his eyes. "Lance, I did something stupid a few minutes ago

  and I'm sorry."

  "I don't understand."

  "I hugged you and pushed my boobs against your back. I am an affectionate person

  by nature, but I'm not interested in romance at this stage of my life. Can't we

  just be friends?"

  He placed bread in the toaster. "Certainly we can, and I'm willing for you to

  make all the rules. To tell the truth, I am at a stage in my life where a little

  affection is greatly appreciated." He moved behind her. "The question is, may I

  show affection for you?" He circled her waist with his arms as she poured the

  mixture into the iron skillet.

  "Just be careful where you put your hands," she warned.

  The toaster popped up golden bread as he kissed her lightly on the neck. He

  moved away and began to apply butter. "You want to know what happened, don't

  you?"

  "As I said before, I don't want to pry, but in addition to being affectionate,

  I'm also curious."

  "Curiosity killed the cat."

  "Satisfaction brought her back."

  "I met Zelda my freshman year at Texas Tech. We hit it off immediately. We were

  both party animals and her parents footed the bill. I don't know how I managed

  to find time to study. A justice of the peace performed our wedding ceremony

  right after graduation. Her parents didn't like me � refused to give her a big

  church wedding and disinherited her."

  "Oh, boy," Toni said as she placed two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon on the

  table. "She caved in and went home to daddy?"

  He shook his head as he held the chair for her. "She was a hardheaded little

  thing. She tried to make a go of it. I honestly believe that. The only job I

  could find after graduation was with the computer department at Wake Forest

  University in Winston-Salem. I hated moving back to my hometown and Zelda hated

  it too. We cut out the partying completely. I couldn't afford it. Zelda took a

  job as a checker in a grocery store and despised it."

  "Your dad wouldn't help?"

  "I didn't even let him know I was back in town until we accidentally ran into

  each other at the K & W Cafeteria one night. Roughly a year later, I came home

  from work and found a note on the kitchen table. She ran off with a professional

  bowler she somehow met. Six months later I received the divorce papers."

  "You didn't try to find her?"

  He shook his head. "In a way I was glad she left. Her constant griping and

  bellyaching was more than I could stand."

  "You never remarried?"

  "I didn't have time to play the dating game. After Zelda left I began using my

  extra time to write the college registration program that eventually made me a

  financial success."

  She carried her empty plate and cup to the sink. "What time is it?"

  "A little after six."

  "Shoot," she said. "I'll do the dishes later. We have to hurry. Buddy expects us

  all to be ready to work at seven thirty sharp."

  Toni rode with Lance and directed him down the treacherous drive that led to her

  house. When it came into view he was shocked.

  "It's � it's a shack," he said incredulously.

  "It looks a little better on the inside and the plumbing works. Your dad quit

  visiting after mom's funeral and, since I wasn't paying any rent, I hated to

  write him about the deteriorating condition of the house. I guess it sounds like

  I am not grateful for the free rent, but since I don't own the place, I've only

  made necessary repairs."

  Lance stood beside the muddy Taurus and stared at the decaying structure in

  disbelief. "Toni, I'm sorry," he said as he pulled her to him. He kissed her

  forehead and let his hand drop to her buttocks.

  Toni pushed his hand away. "That's an off limits area," she warned.

  "Look, Toni. I can't let you live in a place like this. I'm going to pull Buddy

  off the cabin immediately and fix your place up first."

  She clung to him with both arms around his neck. "That's sweet, Lance, but

  you'll do no such thing. At the moment, my plans are indefinite, but I probably

  won't be living here much longer."

  He released her. "What do you mean?"

  "It's time I did something with my life. I'm not getting any younger, you know."

  "What will you do?"

  She moved to the U-Haul and opened the doors. "I have options, Lance. I'm not a

  helpless female." She pulled a box from the trailer, handed it to Lance and

  picked up another.

  Lance followed her towards the front porch. "I know you are not helpless, Toni.

  I just wondered what you have in mind?"

  She balanced the box on her hip and unlocked the door. "I don't wish to discuss

  it right now."

  "I don't want you to leave."

  "It's not your decision to make."

  "True, but, dadgummit, I like you, Toni. I don't have so many friends that I can

  afford to lose even one."

  When the U-Haul was half-empty, Lance collapsed on the ragged living room sofa.

  "I have to rest a minute, Toni."

  "Mr. Bulging Muscles is wiped out after only thirty minutes?" she kidded.

  "I have the muscles but little stamina. Give me a break, Mistress. I could use a

  Pepsi right about now."

  "I have something better," she replied and she headed for the kitchen.

  Lance glanced around the depressing living room and his attention focused on a

  ragged piece of plywood, balanced on cinder blocks. He walked to it and glanced

  at the mail, notes and stacks of yellow legal pads. He picked up a pad and read

  the neat pencil script: "Pearl-Handled Pistol."

  "Put that down, Lance! Now!"

  He dropped the pad and turned. "I was just � "

  "You were snooping," she said as she handed him a glass of water. "The things on

  my desk are personal � for my eyes only."

  He remembered her careful scrutiny of his jockey shorts but decided to say

  nothing. He sipped the water. "This is delicious. You must have the best well in

  the entire world."

  "It's not well water," she said. "There are many springs on the farm. This comes

  from one less than a mile from your cabin. It's the sweetest water I've ever

  tasted and the spring itself is beautiful. I often go there when I want to be

  alone and think."

  "I want to see it sometime."

  "What time is it?"

  "Almost seven."

  She headed for the door. "Rest all you like, but stay away from my desk."

  He drained the glass and followed.

  When all the equipment was safely stored in Toni's spare bedroom, it was seven

  thirty exactly.

  "Buddy is going to kill me," she said as they headed back to the cabin.

  "I suppose Buddy is your boss, but I'm the boss's boss. You were helping me this

  morning. Before he has a chance to start in on you, I'll tell him he owes you

  for an extra hour and a half's work."

  She laughed. "That'll shut him up."

  It was good to hear her laugh again and he laughed with her. "Look, Toni, I'm

  sorry I was nosing around the things on your desk but I swear I didn't see

  anything."
>
  "Let's keep it that way."

  "The only thing I saw was what appeared to be the title of a story, or

  something."

  "It's none of you business, Lance Sayer."

  He nodded. "May I ask a personal question?"

  "I may not answer."

  He did not recognize the hostility in her voice. "Fair enough. All the people I

  have met in Danbury, with the exception of you and maybe Tracy Flint, use very

  poor English. You told me you didn't go to college," he said as he parked in

  front of the cabin. "How is it that you use such good grammar?"

  She ripped off her seat belt, shoved open the door and glared at him. "You

  conceited scoundrel," she cried. "Being the daughter of tenant farmers does not

  automatically make me an ignorant imbecile." She slammed the door and stomped

  away.

  It was such a simple question, he thought as he watched her gorgeous legs march

  towards the cabin. He chuckled as Buddy's bulk emerged from the cabin door. Let

  her fight her own battles, he thought. Give her a piece of your mind, Buddy.

  As he drove to Winston-Salem, he wondered what could possibly be on those yellow

  pads that were so private. Her diary? Her last will and testament? Short stories

  that were so bad she was ashamed of them? A novel?

  While he was in town he drove through the Wake Forest campus and then to the

  little apartment he and his wife once shared. Funny, he thought, how the mind

  refuses to remember the bad. God, how I loved her.

  He drove to his dad's house and parked across the street, watching the new

  owners move in. Sorry, Dad, he prayed. If I could live my life over � but I

  can't.

  Lance headed the Taurus back to Danbury, thankful he was no longer towing the

  U-Haul.

  There was no reason to believe that Dollar Computer Services in Dot, North

  Carolina needed him, but still, he hated to be out of both telephone and email

  contact with them. The young owner, Sean Taylor, was doing an excellent job of

  managing his accounts and providing a help line for his clients. Still, he

  decided, I'd better get a telephone line installed � just in case.

  Lance did not know where the Danbury telephone office was located and slowed as

  he approached Flint's Grocery. Remembering his promise never to return, he

  proceeded to the hardware store.

  "You gonna live here," Red Suspenders said, "you need to learn your way around.

  It ain't like Danbury is big as New Yawk."

  Lance felt his anger boiling. "I have no idea why you don't like me," he said,

  his voice rising, "but I understand Buddy is buying many supplies through your

  store. That means I am pumping profits into your pockets. The least you can do

  is show a little respect."

  "You don't belong here, boy. You ain't our kind of people. I got along without

  your money before and I kin do it agin. You prove me wrong and I'll respect you,

  but I ain't holdin' my breath."

  The stove watchers chuckled as Lance turned to leave. A toothless man sporting a

  dingy beard missed the spittoon with a stream of tobacco juice. "You been out on

  Hospital Road, boy? You keep messin' around and you're gonna need to know where

  the doctors is."

  Why not? Lance thought as he climbed back into the mud streaked Taurus. He

  whistled as he crested the ridge of Hospital Road. I think I just found the new

  Danbury.

  The hospital was on the left � a large, modern, three story brick building.

  Across from it was the First Baptist Church of Danbury and beside it was the

  Stokes County office building. Other businesses lined the road, including the

  Danbury Office Building, a pharmacy, the Danbury Reporter, a branch of Wachovia

  Bank and a small brick building with a sign that contained the familiar Bell

  logo. He parked and went inside.

  The middle-aged, overweight woman sitting behind the desk was staring at her

  computer screen and moving her mouse. Country music blared from a radio. Lance

  approached and waited politely. She ignored him. He moved to one side so he

  could see the screen. She was playing solitaire.

  "Excuse me," he interrupted. "I want to have a telephone line installed."

  She moved the mouse one more time and smiled as the four stacks of cards

  cascaded to the bottom of the screen. "Knowed I could win if I kept trying," she

  said triumphantly. She pulled a standard form from her desk drawer and handed it

  to him without a further word.

  He bent over the desk and filled out the application.