The Widows of Wichita County

October 31

Memphis, Tennessee

Randi Howard paid her money and maneuvered her large purse around the pimple-faced roly-poly teenager taking tickets.

"Third one to the right," he mumbled as she passed.

"You're welcome," she answered back, then hurried down the carpeted hallway to the last theater door on the right. She almost laughed at the excitement rushing her blood. This was a big-time theater, not some small local place that smelled of mold and age. She was in the big city now.

She'd been in Memphis for three days and was batting zero on working on her great plan to become a star. No apartment. No job. Her motel was the right price, but noisy until after midnight. Tonight, being Halloween, there was no telling how long the parties would last. Of all the holidays. Randi hated this one the most. People were frightening and mean enough without getting dressed up.

She had spent the day rubbing elbows with all kinds of creeps, being nice, putting her best foot forward, and now all she needed was a little downtime.

Falling into the first plush theater seat she found, she decided life wasn't all bad. This place was dark and cool, and the chair rocked. Here she wouldn't have to worry about being hit on or told to look somewhere else. At one place she had applied they asked if, while she was singing, she would mind taking off her clothes. He didn't see why she was offended. He offered to pay five bucks more an hour.

She relaxed, breathing in the popcorn-flavored air. This had been a good idea and it even came with a movie.

She rocked back as the previews started with a volume high enough to push anyone still standing into a seat. The place darkened and music surrounded her.

Randi tried to let go of the day but she was too sober to stop thinking.

The bad thing about job hunting in bars, she decided, was going into them in daylight hours. A bar might look great after dark, but in the sunlight most looked seedy. There were no shadows to hide the stains on the welcome mat or the blood splattered in some long-forgotten bar fight. The people found in a bar before dark were also different. A few were just in to drink their lunch, but most looked like they lived around the clock in the smoky air. They were like the strange little bugs and spiders found in caves. They'd lived in the environment so long their skin had become translucent, their eyes blind to light.

Randi pulled one of the beers from the six-pack she'd stuffed in her huge purse, thinking she wanted to just forget the day and have some fun. She rocked back and forth trying to think of the name of the movie she was about to see. Not that it mattered, she'd be too far gone to remember by halfway through.

She thought of calling Crystal and checking on Shelby. Or Helena. Both had made her promise to call. The old lady had even insisted on giving Randi a phone card before she left Clifton Creek. "A phone card." Randi laughed out loud.

"Who do I have to call? Next thing you know she'll he getting me a cell phone for Christmas."

"Hey, lady!" someone yelled from a few rows back. "You going to talk or watch the movie?"

"I haven't decided!" Randi yelled back, noticing for thc first time that the movie had started.

"Well, make up your mind before I call you and tell you to shut up!"

Randi gulped down a long draw. There was something exciting about arguing with someone in the dark. "How about I come back there and show you what I can do with my phone card?"

"Come on back and bring your doctor. You'll be needing him."

Randi twisted around hoping to tell which one of the shad ows was her advisory. All the heads looked the same. "And you bring your mother," she shouted. "Because you'll be crying for her like a little boy."

"Shut up and watch the movie!" a deep voice declared from somewhere on the left. "I didn't pay money to listen to you two exchange mating calls."

Several other people joined in, adding their two cents.

Randi swore and straightened back into her seat. She'd ended up in the middle of a damn choir.

She finished off the first beer and let the bottle clank its way along the floor to the front.

"That beer you drinking, calling card lady?" Her original harasser was back.

"That's me. If you were old enough to drink I'd give you one!"

"I'm old enough!"

Randi held up two beers and yelled, "Well, come on down!"

Ten minutes later she was sitting on the curb in front of the theater she'd just been kicked out of. Her harasser sat beside her offering her Milk Duds while he drank one of her beers.

"How old are you?" She looked at six foot of mostly arms and legs.

"Twenty-three," he answered. "How old are you?"

"The same," she lied. "And in all the years I've been twenty-three I've never been kicked out of a theater for drinking."

"Sorry about that." He tapped his bottle against hers. "Better luck next time."

He didn't sound any sorrier than any other man she had ever heard. But Randi forgave him anyway. Holding something against a man was no better than keeping a grudge against a dog. They may wet on your carpet and look real sorry when you yell at them, but that doesn't mean you won't be stepping on another damp spot soon.

"How about I buy you a plate of the best barbecue in town, lady?"

Randi smiled. "And I buy the beer, right?"

"Right," he smiled. She almost expected to see braces on his teeth.

Two hours later, after they'd eaten and drunk their fill, the kid did her a big favor. He introduced her to his cousin, the owner of a bar, who needed someone to serve drinks. The cousin even agreed to let her sing a little on slow nights.

Randi returned the favor. She kissed the kid good-night at her car. He might want more, but he was too young. The fantasy of what might have been between them would give him far more pleasure. When he really was twenty-three, he'd think of tonight and wish, and when he was forty-three he'd probably remember the night and laugh. And, if she were lucky, when he was sixty-three, he'd look back and regret missing out on what might have been.

She returned alone to her hotel room. Most of the noise had stopped. Her brain was too clouded with beer to think She stumbled around the small space pulling off her clothes When she finally landed in bed, Randi grabbed her pilknand screamed into it with pure joy.

She was living her dream. The big city. The big time.d. Tomorrow she would be one day closer to being discovered.

Settlers watched from a dugout as the oil teams moved in. One young daughter stared in wonder at the endless line of supply trucks and wagons rolling by.

"Who are they, Mother?" she asked.

"Not anyone you'd want to know," the mother answered. "They're just oilmen."