"Uh-huh. Yeah?"
"That was only part of it, of course," I said. "This was cheap, and the school would accept me as a special student. There aren't many colleges that will, you know. If you don't have a high-school education, you're out of luck." I laughed shortly, making it sound pretty grim and dispirited. "It seems pretty crazy to me, now. I'd dreamed about it for years-getting myself a little education and landing a good job and-and-But I guess I should have known better."
"Aw, now, son' '-he cleared his throat, looking troubled- "don't take it that way. I know there ain't no sense to this, and I don't like it a bit better than you do. But I ain't got no choice, J ake Winroy being what he is. Now you just help me out and we'll get this settled in no time."
"I'll tell you anything I can, Sheriff Summers," I said.
"Swell. What about kinfolks?"
"My father's dead. My mother and the rest of the family-I don't know about them. We started splitting up right after Dad died. It's been so long ago that I've even forgotten what they looked like."
"Uh-huh?" he said. "Yeah?"
I started talking. Nothing I told him could be checked, but I could see he believed me; and it would have been strange if he hadn't. The story was pretty much true, you see. It was practically gospel, except for the dates. There was a hell of a depression in the Oklahoma coal fields in the early twenties. There were strikes and the militia was called in, and no one had money enough for grub, let alone doctors and undertakers. And there was plenty to think about besides birth and death certificates,
I told him how we'd drifted over into Arkansas, picking cotton, and then on down into the Rio Grande Valley for the fruit, and then over into the Imperial for the stoop crops… Sticking together, at first, then splitting up for a day or two at a time to follow the work. Splitting up and staying split up.
I'd sold newspapers in Houston. I'd caddied in Dallas. I'd hustled programs and pop in Kansas City. And in Denver, in front of the Brown Palace Hotel, I'd put the bite on a big flashy-looking guy for coffee money. And he'd said, "Jesus, Charlie, you don't remember me? I'm your brother, Luke-"
But I left that part out, of course.
"Uh-huh"-he cut in on me. I'd given him so much he was getting tired. "When did you go to Arizona?"
"December of '44. I've never been real sure of my birthdate, but I'd just turned sixteen as near as I can figure it. Anyway"-I made a point of being careful about it-"I don't see how I could have been more than seventeen."
"Sure," he nodded, scowling a little. "Anyone'd know that, Don't see how you could even have been sixteen."
"Well, the war was still on and any kind of help was hard to get. This Mr. Fields and his wife-awfully nice old couple- gave me a job in their filling station, and it didn't pay much, because it didn't make much, but I liked it fine. I lived with them, just like I was their son, and saved everything I did make. And two years ago, when Da-I mean, Mr. Fields died, I bought the place from her… I guess"-I hesitated-"I guess that's one reason I wanted to get away from Tucson. With Dad Fields dead and Mom moved back to Iowa, it just didn't seem like home any more."
The sheriff coughed and blew his nose. "Dang that Jake," he growled. "So you sold out and came back here, eh?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "Would you like to see a copy of the bill of sale?"
I showed it to him. I also showed him some of the letters Mrs. Fields had written me from Iowa before she died. He paid a lot more attention to them than he had to the bill of sale, and when he was through he blew his nose again.
"Goldarn it, Carl, I'm really sorry to 'ye put you through all this, but I reckon I'm not through yet. You won't mind if I do a little telegraphin' out there to Tucson? I just about got to, you know, Otherwise Jake'll keep kickin' up a fuss like a chicken with its head off."
"You mean"-I paused-"you want to get in touch with the chief of police in Tucson?"
"You ain't got no objections, have you?"
"No," I said, "I just never got to know him as well as I did some of the other folks. Could you send a wire to the sheriff, too, and County Judge McCafferty? I used to take care of their cars for them."
"Goldang it!" he said, and got to his feet.
I stood up also. "Will this take very long, sheriff? I hardly feel like enrolling at the college until it's settled."
"O'course, you don't," he nodded sympathetically. "We'll have it all straightened out, so's you can start in next Monday."
"I'd have liked to get into New York first," I said. "I won't go, naturally, until you say it's all right. But I bought a new suit while! was there, and the alterations were supposed to be done by this Saturday." I walked to the bedroom door with him, and it seemed to me I heard a faint creak from the door across the hall.
"A man's kinda got to get along with everyone in a job like mine, so I wouldn't want you to repeat anything. But these Winroys-well, it ain't good economy to stay with 'em, no matter how cheap it is. You take my advice, an'-"
"Yes?" I said.
"No"-he sighed, and shook his head-"I guess you can't very well do that. Jake kicks up a big fuss, and then you move out, an' no matter what I say or you say it looks bad. Makes it look like you had to move, like maybe there was somethin' to his crazy carryin' on."
"Yes, sir," I said. "I surely wish I'd known who he was before I came here."
I saw him out the door, and closed it again. I stretched out on the bed with a cigarette, lay with my eyes half closed, puffing smoke at the ceiling. I felt all wrung out. No matter how well prepared you are for a deal like that, it takes a lot out of you. I wanted to rest, to be left alone for a while. And the door opened and Mrs. Winroy came in.
"Carl," she said huskily, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I'm so sorry, darling. I'll murder thatJake when I get my hands on him!"
"Forget it," I said. "Where is he, anyway?"
"At his shop, probably. Probably'll spend the night there. He'd better if he knows what's good for him!"
I walked my fingers up her thigh, and let them do a little wandering around. After a moment or two, she squeezed them absently and laid my hand back on the bed.
"Carl… You're not angry?"
"I didn't like it," I said, "but I'm not angry. Matter of fact, I feel pretty sorry for Jake."
"He's losing his marbles. Why, they wouldn't dare kill him! It would hurt them twice as much as having him testify."
"Yeah?" I said. "I guess I don't know much about those things, Mrs. Winroy."
"They-Why don't you call me Fay, honey? When we're alone like this."
"Fay honey," I said.
"They wouldn't dare to, would they, Carl? Right here in his home town where everyone knows him and he knows everyone? Why-why"-she laughed irritably-"my God! this is the one place in the world where he's safe. No stranger can get near him-no one he doesn't know, and-"
"I got near him," I said.
"Oh, well," she shrugged. "I'm not counting you. He knows that anyone the college sent here would be all right."
"Yeah? He didn't act much like it."
"Because he's full of booze! He's beginning to see things!"