Morning Glory

Chapter 22

Will lay on his bunk in a cocoon of misery. From up the corridor came the chiming reverberations of a metal door opening and closing. He remained inert, staring at the wall. Footsteps came closer. One pair, two pair. Leather shoes on concrete, a familiar sound, too familiar.

"Parker?" It was the voice of Deputy Hess. "Your lawyer’s here."

Will started. "My lawyer?" His head came off the pillow and he craned his neck around.

With young Hess stood an older man with flyaway gray hair and tanned skin; slightly stooped, dressed in a brown suit and a rumpled white shirt with a tie knotted at half-mast. "Your wife came to see me, asked me to come have a talk with you."

Will swung onto the edge of his bunk. "My wife?"

"And Gladys Beasley." The guard unlocked the door and the lawyer ambled inside, extending a hand. "Name’s Bob Collins." He waited, peering at Will with gray eyes that appeared perennially amused, as if accustomed to introducing himself to surprised inmates.

"Will Parker." Rising, accepting the handshake, Will thought, She not only came to Calhoun, she hired a lawyer, too?

But what kind of lawyer? His suit looked as if it had been washed in a washing machine; his shirt looked as if it hadn’t. His hair stood on end like a dandelion gone to seed, an occasional tuft lifted above the rest as if ready to fly at the smallest puff of wind. He was not only disheveled, but moved with a tired slowness that made Will wonder if he’d suddenly rusted up halfway onto his chair. There he hung, backside pointed in the right direction while Will counted the seconds-one, two, three-and finally the old duffer sat, expelling a breath and clasping one bony knee with an equally bony hand. When he finally spoke, his jocular tone of voice was one suited to a speech honoring the outgoing president of the lady’s horticultural society. "I went to school with Gladys Beasley. There was a question for a while about which of us would be named valedictorian. It was always my opinion they should have named two that year." He chuckled as if to himself, resting a finger along his jaw. "Gladys Beasley, after all these years-can you beat that?" He glanced up with a hint of devilment in his eyes. "She was a damned fine-lookin’ woman. And smart, too. Only one in the whole class who could discuss anything more intelligent than the length of hems and the height of heels. Used to scare the daylights out of me, she was so bright. Always wanted to ask her on a date, can’t really say why I never did."

Will sat befuddled, wondering why Gladys Beasley would recommend a creaky old fart like this. In his dotage, smelling like the inside of a mummy’s wrappings, and with a wandering, maundering mind. Will wondered if he might be better off defending himself.

But just when Will’s opinions crystallized, Collins threw him a curveball.

"So, Will Parker, did you kill Lula Peak or not?"

Will fixed his brown eyes on Collins’ faded gray ones and replied unequivocally, "No, sir."

Collins nodded thrice almost imperceptibly, studied Will silently for a full fifteen seconds before asking, "You got any idea who did?"

"Nossir."

Again came the lengthy silence that gave the impression rusty machinery needed oiling inside Collins’ scruffy head. But when he spoke, Will was somehow relieved. "Then we have work to do. The arraignment is set for tomorrow."

Collins took the case, promising to apply pressure to every possible quarter in an effort to get it through the courts fast. He was very good, he said, at applying pressure. Will didn’t believe him. Yet in spite of his constant half-rumpled appearance and his surface slowness-he had a habit of tugging an earlobe, crossing his arms and pausing as if confused-he was bright, thorough, and totally unimpressed with the prosecution’s case. Furthermore, he was convinced that he could gain a jury’s sympathy by implying that the law had pounced on Will primarily because of his prison record when it was his war record they ought to bear in mind. He gave little credence to the note bearing Will’s initials, even believed it might prove helpful since it would take one all-fired gullible fool to believe it wasn’t a plant.

The arraignment was quick and predictable: the court refused bail due to Will’s past record. But, true to his word, Collins arranged for a grand jury hearing within a week. Witnesses willing to testify for Will began piling up, but, as is the case with grand juries, the accused was not allowed counsel in the hearing room, thus the Solicitor General’s evidence weighed more heavily than it would when rebutted: the grand jury handed down a true bill.

Disappointment crushed Will. He was removed from the hearing room through the back halls which led directly to the jail, so he had no chance to learn if Elly was waiting somewhere in the courthouse for word about the jury’s decision. He had foolishly hoped for a glimpse of her, had fantasized about her approaching him with hands outstretched, saying, It’s all right, Will, let’s forgive and forget and put it behind us.

Instead he returned to his dismal cell to waste away more of his life, to wonder what would happen to him next, and if the shambling old attorney sent to him by Elly and Miss Beasley was senile after all. The confined space seemed suddenly claustrophobic, so he sat sideways on his bunk, his back pressed to the cold concrete blocks, and stared straight through the bars-the longest view-and thought of Texas, broad and flat, with wind blowing through the pungent sage, with an immense blue sky that turned hot pink and purple and yellow at sunset, with Indian paintbrush setting the plains afire just before the sun sank and stars appeared like gems on blue satin.

But imagination could rescue him only temporarily. In time he rolled onto his side and shut his eyes, swallowing hard. He’d lost again, and he hadn’t seen Elly. God, how he needed to see her, how he’d banked on it. He didn’t know which hurt worse, the fact that she hadn’t been there, or that he’d lost the first round in court. But he’d hurt her so badly he’d been afraid to send word through Deputy Hess, afraid he didn’t deserve her anymore, afraid that even if he called, she wouldn’t come.

But she showed up even as he lay on his bunk, dejected.

"You got a visitor, Parker," announced Hess, opening the door. "Your wife. Follow me."

So she hadbeen here all the time, waiting for word. His heart started klunking and he flew from his bunk. "Just a minute, Hess!" He dipped before the mirror and dragged a comb through his hair, four swift strokes. The mirror reflected his cheeks flushed with expectancy before he turned and hurried after Hess.

The visitors’room was a long, empty expanse totally devoid of trim. It held a bare window, a table and three chairs much like those in the Carnegie library. When Will entered, Elly was already seated at the table, wearing something new and yellow, clutching a purse on her lap. Hess motioned Will toward her, then took his place beside the door, crossing his arms as if planted for the duration.

Slipping into the chair opposite Elly’s, Will wondered if she could feel the floor tremble from his thudding heart.

For a full ten seconds they stared.

"Hello, Will," Elly greeted with a sad smile in her eyes.

"Hello."

Their words, though softly spoken, echoed clearly through the room.

Will’s palms were sweating and his neck felt hot as he drank in the sight of her and suppressed the awful need to reach for her hands across the table.

"I’m sorry about the grand jury decision. I thought… well, I hoped you’d be home today."

"So did I. But Collins warned me not to get my hopes up, especially when he couldn’t be in there to tell our side of it."

"It don’t seem fair, Will. I mean, how can they keep your lawyer out of the hearing room?"

"Collins says that’s how the law works, and our chance will come when we go to trial by traverse jury."

"Traverse jury?" Her brow wrinkled.

"The big one, the one that lets us tell our side."

"Oh."

The thought of it shook them both as they gazed at each other, wishing futile wishes, regretting the harsh words of their last meeting. Elly kept a two-handed grip on her purse while Will dried his palms on his thighs.

"Elly, I…" Tell her you’re sorry, fool.But Hess stood guard, listening to every word, and apologizing was hard enough in private. The thought of baring his heart before an audience seemed to paralyze Will’s tongue. So instead he told Elly, "I like Collins. He’s a good one, I think. Thanks for hiring him."

"Don’t be silly. Did you think I wouldn’t hire a lawyer for my own husband?"

The words pressed up against Will’s throat, and Hess or no Hess, he had to speak them. "I didn’t know what to think after the way I talked to you last time."

Elly’s eyes skittered aside. "I’d already hired him before I saw you."

"Oh." Will felt justly stung. His hands, only moments ago sweating, grew suddenly icy. So what’d you expect, Parker, after the way you talked to her?Again came the aching desire to ask her forgiveness, followed by the godawful fear that she wouldn’t warm again, and if that happened, he’d have no reason to fight his way out of here. So he sat in misery, with his heart painfully clamoring and a lump in his throat that felt the size of a baseball.

"You okay?" Elly inquired, letting her glance waver back to him. "They feedin’ you okay in here?"

Will swallowed the lump and managed to sound normal. "Pretty good. The sheriff’s wife’s got the cooking contract."

"Well… you look good." She flashed a nervous smile.

Silence again, made more awkward by the passing minutes and the fact that they spoke of everything except what was paramount on their minds.

"How did you get here?" He found himself obsessed with an irrational greed to know everything she’d done and thought since he’d been in here, to fill in the blanks of the time he was forced to forfeit. Life had grown so precious to him since she’d become part of it that he felt doubly robbed of his freedom.

"Oh, I caught a ride," she said evasively.

Distractedly, Elly scratched at the clasp of her purse and they both studied her hands until their eyes seemed to burn. Finally she opened the purse and told him quietly, "I know you told me not to come, Will, but I had to bring these presents from the kids." From the purse she withdrew two scrolled papers and handed them across the table.

"Wait!" Hess ordered sharply and leaped forward to confiscate them.

Elly glanced up, injured. "It’s only greetings from the kids."

He examined them, rerolled them and handed them back, then returned to his post beside the door.

Again Elly offered the papers. "Here, Will."

He unrolled them to find a crude color-crayon drawing of flowers and stick people, and the message I love you, Willfaithfully duplicated in nearly indecipherable printing, followed by their names: Donald Wade and Thomas. Will had never had to work so hard to keep tears from springing.

"Gosh," he remarked thickly, eyes downcast for fear she’d read how closely he treaded the borderline of control.

"They miss you," she whispered plaintively, thinking, And I miss you. I ache without you. Home is terrible, work is pointless, living hurts.

But she was afraid to say it, afraid of being rebuffed again.

"I miss ’em, too." Will’s chin remained flattened to his chest. "How are they?"

"They’re fine. They’re at Lydia’s house today, all three of ’em. Donald Wade, he gets off the schoolbus there. He loves it at Lydia’s. Him and Sally’re buildin’ a fort."

Will cleared his throat and looked up, his heart still tripping in double-time, wishing futilely that she need not see him in this place that so reduced a man’s self-respect, wishing for the hundredth time that he hadn’t said what he had the last time he saw her, needing terribly to know if she, like the children, still loved him. Tell her you’re sorry, Parker! Just lay it out there and this misery will be over!

He opened his lips to apologize but she spoke first. "Miss Beasley says Mr. Collins is the best."

"I trust her judgment." He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "But I don’t know where we’re gonna get the money to pay him, Elly."

"Don’t you worry about that. The honey run was good and we got money in the bank, and Miss Beasley’s offered to help."

"She has?"

Elly nodded. "But I don’t aim to take her up on it unless we have to."

"That’s probably wise," he added.

Again came the oppressive silence and the swelling compulsion to touch fingertips. But he was afraid to reach and she was afraid Hess would jump all over her again, so neither of them moved.

"Well, listen." She lifted her face and smiled a big jack-o-lantern smile, as false as if it had been carved in a pumpkin by a knife. "I have to go’cause I been leaving the kids at Lydia’s an awful lot lately and I don’t want to start takin’ her for granted."

Panic swamped Will. He hadn’t done any of the things he’d intended-he hadn’t touched her, apologized, complimented her on her pretty new dress, told her he loved her, said any of the things crowding his heart. But it was probably best to let her off the hook. No matter what Collins said, the cards were stacked against him. He was a born loser. Innocent or not, he was bound to lose this trial, too, and when he did they’d lock him up for good. They did that on a second murder conviction, he knew. And no woman should have to wait for a man who’d be sixty-or seventy-when he got out. If he got out.

Elly edged forward on her chair.

"Well…" She rose uncertainly, still with a two-fisted grip on her small black purse. He didn’t remember her ever carrying a purse before; it made him feel as if he’d been incarcerated for nine years instead of nine days, as if she were changing subtly while he wasn’t there to see.

He, too, stood, tightening the roll of paper with both hands to keep from reaching out for her. "Thanks for coming, Elly. Say hi to the kids and tell the boys thanks for these pictures."

"I will."

"Kiss Lizzy P. for me."

"I w-" The word broke in half. Her chin began trembling and she forcibly tensed it.

They stared at each other until their eyes burned and their heartbeats hurt.

"Elly…" he whispered, and reached.

Their hands clung, flattening the scroll of paper-a tense, forlorn message of all that had not been said.

Tears glimmered on her lower eyelids. "I got to g-go, Will," she whispered and slowly pulled free. She backed up a step and he saw her chest began to heave as if she were already sobbing internally.

Desperate, he swung away and strode toward the door. "I’m ready, Hess!" The words resounded in the bare room as Will left Elly to shed her tears unobserved.

She didn’t come back again. But Miss Beasley did, the next day, with her mouth puckered like a two-day-old pudding and a look of stern reproof on her face.

"So, what have you done to that child?" she demanded before Will even touched his chair.

"What?" His eyes widened in surprise.

"What have you done to Eleanor? She came to my house crying her heart out last night and said you don’t love her anymore."

"It’s best if she believes that."

"Bullwhacky!" The word resounded from the walls, taking Will aback. He sat in silence while Miss Beasley raged on. "She’s your wife, Mr. Parker! How dare you treat her like some passing acquaintance!"

"If you came here to give me hell, you can-"

"That’s precisely why I came here, you young upstart! And don’t speak to me in that tone of voice!"

Will let his weight drop to the chair and sat back in an insolent sprawl. "Y’ know, you’re just what I needed today, Miss Beasley."

"What you need, young man, is a good dressing down, and you’re going to get it. Whatever you said to that young woman to put her in that state was untenable. If there was ever a time when you need to stand by her, this is it."

"Me stand by her!" Will stiffened and splayed two hands on his chest. "Ask her about standing by me!"

"Oh, I suppose you’re sitting in here sulking because she had to take ten seconds to digest Reece Goodloe’s accusation before coming to grips with it."

"Digest! She did more than digest!" He pointed toward Whitney. "She thought I did it! She actually thought I killed Lula Peak!"

"Oh, she did, did she? Then why is she running ads in the Whitney and Calhoun newspapers offering rewards for any information leading to your acquittal? Why has she single-handedly rounded up a dozen witnesses to testify on your behalf? Why has she learned how to drive a car and refused-"

"Drive a car!"

"-my financial help and run all over Gordon County passing out honey to make people forget all the nasty things they said about her years ago and badgering Sheriff Goodloe to find the real killer? And why has she contacted Hazel Pride and taken her into that deserted house that no woman who’s suffered as Eleanor has should ever have to enter again?"

Will finally got a word in edgewise. "Who’s Hazel Pride?"

"Our local realtor, that’s who. Eleanor has put her grandfather’s house up for sale to pay your lawyer’s fee, to see that you get the best defense a man can possibly get in this state. But to do it she had to face that house, and a town full of despicable… horses’ posteriorswho don’t deserve to be groveled to. But grovel she did, and she did it for you, Mr. Parker! Because she loves you so much she would face anything in this world for you. And you pay her back by withholding your forgiveness for a reaction that would have been as natural to you had she been the one with the prison record who was being accused again." Miss Beasley collected herself and sat back self-righteously. "Perhaps I was mistaken about what kind of person you are."

Will was so dazed, he commented on the most incidental fact.

"She told me she caught a ride to Calhoun."

"Caught a ride-hmph! She drives that deplorable automobile you stuck together with spit and baling twine, and if she doesn’t kill herself before this is over it’ll be a miracle. She nearly killed Nat and Norris, to say nothing of the buildings she’s bumped into and the sidewalks she’s scaled. Why, a person’s rosebushes aren’t even safe on the front lawn anymore! She’s scared to death of that thing, but she grips the wheel and drives, mind you! Clear up to Whitney, sometimes twice a day, only to come home believing that you don’t love her anymore. Well, shame on you, Mr. Parker!" Miss Beasley shook her finger at Will as if he were six years old. "Now I want you to consider how you’ve hurt her instead of sitting in here thinking only of yourself. And the next time she comes to visit you, you make amends!"

Like the grand jury, Miss Beasley offered Will no chance to rebut. She sailed out as gustily as she’d sailed in, leaving him feeling as if he’d just taken a ride on a tornado.

Back in his cell, Will experienced a curious reaction, a minute exhilaration. Elly… driving the car? Elly… rounding up witnesses? Elly… going into that house?

For him!

It struck him fully what Miss Beasley had set out to do, and in her own inimitable way, she’d done it: made him realize how much Elly loved him. She must, to face all those apprehensions, all those fears that had held her prisoner on Rock Creek Road for years, that had held her aloof from the townspeople, denying that she needed anybody.

In the wake of Miss Beasley’s visit, Will’s torpor disappeared, replaced by restlessness and a thrill of hope. He paced his cell, cracking his knuckles, wondering what witnesses Elly had found, smiling at the idea of her sweetening them up with honey. God, what a woman! He paced… and pondered… and thanked his lucky stars for both Elly and Gladys Beasley.

Within an hour after the departure of the latter, Will made a decision.

"Hess!" He bellowed. "Hess, get in here!" He clattered his dinner fork against the bars. "Hess, I want you to get a message to my wife!"

"Hold your horses, Parker!" came a voice from the distance.

"Hurry up, Hess!"

"I’m comin’, I’m comin’!" The deputy appeared down the corridor. "What is it?"

"Can the sheriff drive out to my place and get word to Elly that I want to see her?"

"I guess so."

"Well, get him on the radio and tell him I’d appreciate it if he’d do it soon as possible."

"Will do." Hess turned away but stopped and flashed a crooked grin over his shoulder. "Miss Beasley can sure chew ass, can’t she?"

"Whew!" Will replied, running a hand through his hair. "Can she ever! Tell you the truth, I was glad to be safe behind these bars."

Hess laughed, took two steps and turned back. "Everybody’s talkin’ about it. I’m surprised you didn’t know."

"Know what?"

"About your wife drivin’ that car like there was no rubber rationing, runnin’all over drummin’ up witnesses for you, just like Miss Beasley said. You know, Elly and me went to school together and I was one of ’em who called her crazy. But people are sayin’ now she’s outwitting the Solicitor General. Drivin’ him crazy, wonderin’ what she and Collins will unearth in court!"

Will’s heart began to thunder with excitement.

"Could you tell Collins I want to see him, too?"

"Could if he wasn’t out of town."

"Out of town. Where?"

"I don’t know. That wife of yours has got him runnin’ like a fox in front of a pack of hounds, checkin’ leads. I do know one thing, though."

"What?"

"He got your trial on the docket for the first week in February."

"So fast?"

"Don’t underestimate that old bird, especially not when he’s got your wife workin’ with him." Hess sauntered away, stopped and grinned back at Will. "There’s a joke goin’ around, only it’s not really a joke at all, it’s-" Hess scratched his head. "Well, you might say it’s a sprinklin’of respect that’s about fifteen years late in comin’. Folks’re sayin’, "Look out, here comes Elly Parker with her honey!’" Turning away, Hess added, "Nobody’s sure if she really gave a quart of it to Judge Murdoch or not, but word’s out he’s the one who married you two and he’s also the one scheduled to preside at your trial." With a last chuckle drifting down the corridor as he opened the far door, Hess added, "I’ll get word to your wife, Parker." Then the far door slammed.