The long waves of words from The Lion Sleeps Tonight gushed out of his radio as he waited for the traffic light at the corner of Main and King. Other than a rusty Ford Falcon parked along the sidewalk and an old women who had stopped at the door of the First National Bank and was shaking her head as she thumbed through her bankbook, the street was empty. Tom felt silly idling at the intersection all by himself. When the light finally turned green, he stepped on the gas. He had just passed the Falcon when he caught sight of Ally in the revolving door of the Five and Dime store. She had a large bag in her hands.
She waved at him, almost dropping her bag in the process, then yelled something lost to him in the jumble of echoes in his music and the rumble of his engine. He steered his Mustang to the curb and checked the rear-view mirror. She was bee lining it for the car. His eyes still on the mirror, he turned off his radio, ran his fingers in his messed up hair, and waited for her. When she stopped beside his car, he noticed how happy she looked.
She rested the bag on top of the door, and after a quick greeting, she said, “Charlie told me about your letter.”
Great! He had been waiting for that. Now he could send Charlie the second letter, the one that would do the damage. He wrapped his right arm around the backrest of the passenger seat and glanced at the glove compartment, where he’d been keeping the letter for the last two weeks. He gave her his silly smile. “Told you I’d write him.”
“You did. But…” She fell silent.
“But you didn’t think I would, did you?”
She blushed. The flush of red on her face made her look so vibrant that he couldn’t breathe from watching her. Why did he want to take advantage of such a sweet girl? He inhaled deeply and squeezed the steering wheel with his left hand, annoyed at himself for allowing her to smother his resolve. What caused him to waver when she was around? After all, she was only the next item on a long list he hoped would keep getting longer. Pleased that he had regained control of himself, he waited for the red to drain from her face, then asked, “Where are you going?”
“Home,” she said. “I just bought my dad a chemical sprayer for his birthday. I want to wrap it up before he comes back from work.”
“Looks heavy. You want a ride?”
She scanned the empty street. “OK.” She lowered the bag onto the back seat and hopped in beside him. After he steered his car on Queen Street, he turned on the radio. Mule Skinner Blues was playing.
“You like country music?” she asked, her tone of voice more a condemnation than a question.
He glanced at her. “That one’s not too bad.”
She placed her thumb and finger around the radio dial and said, “Do you mind?”
He shrugged. From the side of his eye, he watched her turn the knob in search of a different channel. All the other stations were broadcasting commercials or news of the Vietnam War. She turned off the radio. On Third Street, looking bored, she pressed the heater fan switch and tried the different speed settings. As a rule, he did not allow anyone to mess with the controls of his car while he drove, but today he did not mind. Actually, he liked being beside her while she fussed with things and went about her business as if he were not there. He sped up until her hair whipped her face. She sat back in her seat, raised her head to the wind and closed her eyes, looking totally relaxed. Now might be a good time to ask her out. If she agreed, he would not have to send the second letter to Charlie. He slowed down and steered the car onto Cedar Street. “I’m going to the movie in Orleans tonight. Wan’ to come with me? For a change. You know. Not a date or anything like that. Just to give you a break like I explained to Charlie in the letter.”
Without even glancing at him, she fired a quick “No.”
The spell of good feeling that had surrounded him vaporized as Charlie’s house came into view. Why didn’t she fall for him, like the other girls? What was he doing wrong?
As if she sensed his turmoil, Ally said, “You’re not as bad as some people say, Tommy, but I don’t feel good about going to Orleans with you.”
“Why? You still hold a grudge about me ringing the door bell?”
She laughed. “No. We were kids. That’s not it.”
“Did Charlie tell you to stay away from me?”
“No. Not at all. He says he trusts you, and I should go out if I want to, but…” she leaned forward and absentmindedly reached for the glove compartment knob.
Jesus Christ! The letter. He jumped on the brakes; the tires squealed; Ally flew forward and hit her head on the dash.
Once the car came to full stop, she righted herself and spit a stray lock of hair from her mouth. “What happened?”
He needed an excuse for having slammed on the brakes. He searched around for a hint. They were in line with Charlie’s house, still too far for him to say they had arrived. His eyes stopped on the shed in Charlie’s backyard. The sight of it reminded him of his goal. He wanted Ally McNair and he would get her. No more letting silly feelings get in the way. He faced her and smiled. “Didn’t you see it?”
“See what?”
“The cat.”
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