"It's simple," Aunt Ruby said, her eyes wide and shocky. "I killed him."
12
Uncle Mike put his arm around my aunt and supported her into the living room, where she collapsed onto the couch and he sat next to her.
"All that day and night, until the next afternoon when Beau told us he drove Earl to the bus station, I was sure I'd killed him."
"How? What?" I didn't know what to say or ask or think. Random noises seemed to be coming out of my mouth. I slid down into a chair and Jack rested a hip on its arm.
"Take a minute, and then tell us what happened, ma'am," Jack said gently.
"I certainly didn't shoot him!" She reached for a tissue from the box I kept on the coffee table and dabbed at her eyes. "I only stabbed him with our pitchfork!"
I flinched, but Jack put a restraining hand on my arm.
"Tell us, please? In as much detail as you can remember. It might help Lorraine."
Uncle Mike pulled Aunt Ruby close. "If you're not up to this, Ruby, you don't have to do it. We can—"
"No. No, there have been too many secrets for too long. I can tell it. I will never forget a minute of that day."
She took a deep breath and began. "It was a beautiful autumn day…"
* * *
Dead End, September 1970
Ruby was singing along to The Carpenters while she did her housework that afternoon, because Mike was gone to work and he was more of a Creedence Clearwater Revival guy, anyway, and sometimes a girl just wanted to sing "close to you" at the top of her lungs. She had a lovely singing voice, not that she'd ever say that out loud, but even the pastor had said so in church. Maybe one day she'd have a little girl who liked to sing and they could be in the choir together. She smiled at the thought. If Mike had his way, they'd have enough children to fill the entire choir. Or field a softball team. She'd be content with two or three. Maybe four at the most.
When she heard the easily recognizable rattle of Lorraine's old VW minibus, she put down the dusting cloth, stretched, and then moved to the door to look out. She hadn't planned on company, but she was always glad to share a glass of sweet tea with a friend. Plus, she had half a pie in the icebox.
She glanced at her grandmother's scrollwork clock on the mantel. Lorraine must have gotten off work early; it wasn't even four o'clock. She and Mike hadn't invited them over for dinner lately, and she felt guilty about that, but she just couldn't put up with Earl. She'd been about an inch away from letting him have it the last time Lorraine had "run into a door."
Mike had stopped her, but then he'd taken Earl out to the barn to "show him the horses," and Earl had been walking a little stiffly when they got back. He'd gone straight to their VW and hollered for Lorraine, who'd shot Ruby a despairing glance.
"I know you think you're helping, but this will just make it worse. He'll take it out on me," she'd said, so quietly Ruby almost hadn't heard her.
"Lorraine, honey, this can't go on."
"I know. I know. Just… just give me time."
And so they had. But Ruby also hadn't seen her best friend since that day, more than three weeks ago, and she'd been just about at the point of going to track her down at work.
This was better.
She pushed open the door. "I'm so glad you're here! I was just—"
But then the words froze in her throat. Lorraine stumbled out of the van, holding her stomach. She was making a horrible sobbing, gasping noise, and tears ran down her face.
Her bloody, bruised face.
"Ruby. Help me."
Lorraine's shaky voice broke Ruby free of the paralysis that had gripped her, and she raced over to catch her friend before she fell.
"Oh, honey. What happened? What did he do? We need to get you to the hospital." Ruby realized she was crying herself.
"No," Lorraine said. "No. I—nothing is broken. I just needed to escape. I'm sorry to bring my problems here, but I didn't know where else to go."
