Too soon, she was out from the safe shadows of the storefronts. To her left, the highway ran dark to the bridge. The moon was full, glinting off the river like a thousand eyes, waiting. But there were only two eyes likely to be watching to make sure she headed straight home.
No, damn it, she said in her head. She was only seventeen. She was entitled to a proper date with a nice young man. She stepped off the curb.
Headlamps appeared sudden in the east, speeding across the bridge toward her.
She ran across the street before the lights could find her, and up into the trees on the courthouse lawn, their craggly old branches making welcoming long shadows to hide her. She ducked behind the biggest tree and stuck her head out enough to see.
The headlights grew larger as the car got closer.
Surely, it was him.
TWO
The Important had gone crazy dangerous the previous Friday night.
She’d been walking home from her four-hour shift at the phone company, thinking for the thousandth time about the gorgeous young man she’d met the night before. Tall, broad shoulders, blond, he’d appeared at the Pepsi machine in the break room like a god. She’d quickly closed her Photoplay magazine, cover down, so he wouldn’t think she was shallow reading about movie stars, and gave him a semi-interested smile.
It worked. He came over and sat down. She had only four minutes left on her break, but he was real charming and they talked for ten, about nothing and everything, until the supervisor found her and waved a bony finger. By then, Pauly Pribilsky said he’d drive her home after work.
And that’s all it was. They talked in his car for maybe fifteen minutes, then they had a kiss – the one she’d been thinking about ever since.
Walking home the next night, Friday, she’d been too lost in hoping Pauly would call over the weekend to pay any mind to anything else. She’d just passed the usual ruckus in the Hacienda parking lot when the Important had stepped out suddenly from the bushes to block her way.
His face had been purple with anger, and something wet was dribbling from the corner of his mouth. ‘Got yourself a boyfriend?’ he’d said, all out of breath and sneery.
‘He’s just a boy from work-’
‘I know who he is,’ he’d said, interrupting rapid-fire, still breathing heavy. ‘Paulus Pribilski, Polish, lineman for the DeKalb-Peering. Lives up in Rockford. Hot shot, fancy car, likes to gamble too much.’
Truly, the Important’s eyes were everywhere.
‘He’s someone my own age!’ she’d shouted, then instantly regretted it, because his face had puffed up like a kid holding his breath to not cry.
‘Look,’ she’d gone on, trying to be nice, ‘all’s you and I do is sneak off, and things went too-’
‘I know about you seeing Doc Farmont.’
There was no hope to it. She’d been major flattered when he, an Important, had expressed an interest in her one night when she was walking home, almost in this very spot. A man like him could be exciting, and she was leaving Grand Point anyway, soon as she saved up enough for beautician school in Chicago. He was married, but that would add to the excitement. Except it didn’t. All he wanted was to sneak off.
Now she’d met Pauly Pribilsky and romance needed to blossom. Still, she wanted to be kind. ‘It can never be anything between us,’ she’d said, trying to smile.
He’d slapped her hard across the face. ‘That’s for being unfaithful,’ he’d said, hissing like an animal.
Her eyes had teared up so quick she hadn’t seen the second one coming before it slapped the numbness where the first had hit. ‘That’s for dressing so provocative.’
She’d backed up but not fast enough.
He’d hit her a third time. ‘And that’s to remind you to walk straight home after work. No car rides from anybody.’
‘Go to hell!’ she’d screamed, and ran off.
It had taken her a block to realize that the Important wasn’t chasing. He didn’t need to. Grand Point was small and he was big. He could find her whenever he wanted.
She’d waited fifteen minutes in front of her house for her breathing to get regular. Going in, she’d told her mother she’d run smack into a tree because she’d not been paying attention to her walking. She couldn’t tell the truth. Her parents were from the east side of the river – Pinktown people. They’d suffer if she weren’t careful. Importants controlled everything in Grand Point.
Saturday morning had been bad. She’d not been able to figure out what to do. So she’d stayed in her room, icing the bruise that was now ripe as an eggplant.
And then Pauly had called at two, saying he’d been thinking about that one kiss ever since Thursday night. She’d said she had too, but the back of her mind had been screaming no way should she see the new young man. Then, talking, she’d got to remembering Kathleen Turner and Body Heat and living strong and purposeful, so she’d said yes to Pauly Pribilski. But that had been Saturday when there’d been hours and hours ahead for staying safe in her room. Now, come Monday night, she was out, hiding in the trees on the courthouse lawn, thinking she’d made a huge mistake.
The car got stopped by a red light at Second Street, its engine rumbling low. It was still too far away to recognize. She pressed back against the tree, waiting. When the engine got louder, starting up, she snuck another peek. The car was turning onto Second Street.
It was a cop cruiser, slowing at the sheriff’s side of the courthouse. She couldn’t see which deputy was at the wheel. Every one of them, young and old, had invented a reason to talk to her at one time or another. Most were harmless, except for the one that was particularly disgusting. The car pulled into the sheriff’s parking lot and disappeared behind the side of the building.
She stepped out from the tree, toward the darker shadows of the building. The old courthouse had been strung with red, white and blue banners for the Fourth of July, but already they were drooping like old women’s underwear. The ancient bricks had baked in that same exact spot for over a hundred hot summers, wilting everything around them. She supposed if they could talk, they’d surely rather scream, from the sameness of it all.
The town had gone back to quiet. No cars, no footsteps.
Across Second Street, the goofy stars on the Constellation’s sign winked slowly on and off, like the eyes of an old lech, of which Grand Point had too many. Its door was propped open, spilling light like milk onto the sidewalk, but no music came out. No one went to the Constellation for a lively time. It was a daytime place for county lawyers to down quick ones before going back to their more interesting towns. Nighttime, the Constellation was a crypt. That’s why she’d chosen it.
She ran across to the unlit store next to the Constellation. Catching her breath, she checked her reflection in the darkened glass. She’d borrowed her future sister-in-law’s blouse because the tan polyester caught the auburn in her hair and the hazel in her eyes. Her mother said the blouse was too tight in the wrong places, but it was only just a little. She looked good. Not just Pinktown good, but good enough for anyplace this side of the river, too.
She walked into the bar.
THREE
Pauly sat facing the door. He wore a nice gray shirt that looked tailor-made especially for his muscular physique, the big silver watch he’d worn on Thursday, and a pair of dark blue checked pants.
Otherwise, the Constellation was as pathetically empty as she’d hoped. Other than Pauly, there was no one there except for Dougie and two ancient couples smoking and drinking red drinks at a table in the back.
Pauly stood up, a real gentleman. ‘Betty Jo,’ he said. He pulled out a chair for her to sit down, another gentlemanly thing.