Different Drummers (23 page)

Otis had wasted no time in making his move. There was no other reason for his visit except to lure his son to Tennessee. With a mixture of anger and something like raw fear, she came within a hair of backing out of the driveway and speeding away. But no, better to face him now than wonder when the showdown would come.

“Dear God, help me,” she said out loud as she turned off the ignition. Then, steeling herself for what loomed ahead, she picked up her purse and stepped out of the car.

As she entered the house, she saw Otis and Bob in such earnest conversation on the terrace that they hadn't heard her drive up. Quietly she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of ever-present iced tea. She poured herself a glass and walked outside to join them.

“Hey, Baby,” Bob said. “Ain't this a surprise! I guess Daddy's the last person you expected to see when you came home today.”

Even though her husband smiled, Kathleen saw the caution in his face and heard the reservation in his voice. She gave Otis only the semblance of a nod and made no attempt at friendly overtures.

“That's right. It is a surprise.”

If it had been anybody besides her father-in-law, and at some other time, she would have laughed out loud. But there was nothing funny in her eyes about Otis Conroy.

He wore a powder blue suit with matching tie, white socks, and white patent leather shoes. Now that she saw him in person, it was obvious Otis indeed sported a wig of abundant brown wavy hair, cut on the long side and flecked with gray. Rather than a personification, he was a parody of the sort of person he presumed to be, or really thought he was. He was a walking, talking example of a self-made flamboyant faith healer. Surely Bob wouldn't fall for this.

“Hey, Kathleen,” said the detested voice.

Otis stood up as she joined them on the terrace. “I hope my droppin' in unexpected like this ain't gonna put you out all that much.”

“I hardly recognized you, Otis,” she said. “You look different. Have you changed your hair style?”

His amber eyes flashed at her in the way she remembered. He'd heard the contempt in her voice and seen the look in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I got an image to keep up now and I'm tryin' to do what my congregation expects.”

“How interesting,” she said, trying to make it sound as if it was the least interesting thing in the world, and at the same time thrilling to the realization she wasn't afraid of him anymore. “I'm sure they're all very proud of you.”

“Daddy's gonna be spendin' the night,” Bob said with a smile. It was obvious he had no inkling of the emotionally charged exchange between his father and his wife.

Otis acted concerned. “Now, don't y'all be goin' to no trouble on my account. I can sleep on the sofa in the livin' room.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.” Kathleen knew there was no way she could spend a night under the same roof as this man. “I'll stay at the Tates. You can sleep in the bed with Bob.

Those strange blazing eyes shot her a look of either anger or disappointment. She couldn't tell which.

“I'm sure you'll be anxious to get back to your church and will only be staying the one night?” She said it boldly, as if the very idea of him staying longer was out of the question.

“Yeah, I reckon. I'm here on a mission and when that's done, I'll be headin' back. I've come to offer Bobby the chance of a lifetime. Yes sir, this is somethin' so wonderful he ain't gonna be able to refuse. I want him side by side with Selma and me, up there on the rostrum of the Church of Divine Power.”

He shot a knowing look at Bob, as if his little speech had been rehearsed.

“Guess I've already talked Bobby into it, but he tells me you ain't all that keen on comin'?”

Bob had his back against the wall, beer in one hand and a cigarette dangling between the fingers of his other hand. He looked entreating, begging her with his eyes not to refuse. How could he possibly know if she went with him to Crystal Springs so he could turn into some kind of charlatan like his father, she would end up either in a mental hospital or a cemetery.

“That's right, Otis, I'm not,” she said in answer to his question. “Now, if you'll both just give me a minute to change clothes, I'll be back to start supper.”

She went into the bedroom and closed the door. She leaned her perspiring face against the wall and deliberately concentrated on Ron Velnes, conjuring up his image and trying to draw sustenance from his memory and their time at the beach. Thinking of him and remembering, she smiled to herself and slowly changed out of her good clothes into a loose fitting cotton dress.

She escaped into the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. As she fixed Beulah's meatloaf recipe and succotash the way Sarah had shown her, she focused on bringing her anger under control. Letting her hate for Otis show would accomplish nothing. She suffered through his sanctimonious and overlong blessing. She hardly listened as he rambled on, but cast her mind back instead to that unforgettable day when she'd first arrived in Eddisville and sat for the first time at Otis Conroy's table. It came to her how very much she'd changed since then. Where had that young girl gone, the one with the stars in her eyes?

Unable to eat a bite, she toyed with her food, wishing not for the first time Otis had died instead of Beulah.

Otis smiled the smile of condescension. “Why don't y'all come for a weekend so you can see the Church of Divine Power? It ain't all that far and it'll be worth every penny you spend on gas. Folks been sayin' they never had no real layin' on of hands till they felt the power in mine. I think you're in for a big surprise.”

“How would that be?” Her voice was cold, deliberately indifferent.

“It's the wonder of it all, Kathleen,” Otis said. “You wouldn't believe all them folks just lookin' for a helpin' hand. I heal the sick and them without hope just by touchin' them. There's some with demons crawlin' all over their bodies. I help them all through the word of the Lord.”

Kathleen suddenly had the strange feeling she was taking part in a play and wasn't sure whether it was a comedy or tragedy. She looked at Bob, his handsome face filled with an almost child-like excitement as he listened to his father.

“Bob tells me there's money in this healing. Is that right?”

Otis nodded. “Yes ma'am, that certainly is correct. This is the part Bobby can start out doin'. The sellin' side of it. We got tokens that sell for a couple of dollars apiece. Them who needs them carry them in their pockets, and stroke them when they feel the devil lookin' over their shoulder.”

He rubbed his hands together as he warmed to his subject. “We got little prayer cloths too that sell for another couple of dollars each. Selma runs them up on an old sewin' machine we found in back of the church. I pray over the cloths before we sell them and it gives them a sort of power. We made six hundred dollars on them little prayer cloths alone last Sunday.”

Bob gasped. “Six hundred dollars in one day? That ain't possible.”

“Oh yes it is, Bobby. Six hundred dollars in one day. And you just ain't gonna believe how my fame is spreadin'. Yes sir, it's really spreadin'.”

“You hear that, Baby?” Bob beamed at her, as if what his father had just said would leave no doubt in Kathleen's mind that here indeed was the answer to their prayers.

Otis pressed the waves in his wig. “Didn't that newspaper clippin' I sent you say it all? Didn't it just give you goose bumps all over when you read it?”

“You mean you really believe you and Selma help these people?”

“Oh, it ain't really us that does it,” Otis said, acting as if he hadn't noticed the disdain lacing her every word. “We ain't the ones who banish the demons out of these folks. Jesus does the hard work. Shoot, we ain't nothin' without Him.”

“You mean you and Selma are the instruments? You and Selma?” She deliberately placed heavy emphasis on the two names.

Bob bristled as he finally picked up on her tone. “What you tryin' to say, Kathleen?”

“I'm not trying to say anything. Your daddy's saying it all for me.”

“Kathleen, Kathleen,” Otis said, his manner suddenly wheedling, intimate almost, as if Bob wasn't even in the room. “You need to be fixin' your eyes on Jesus and quit this driftin'. How long is it gonna take to make you see?”

Kathleen held up her hand, stopping him in mid-stream. For the first time since she'd known him, Kathleen was able to stare into those fierce amber eyes without looking away. Then she pushed her chair back from the table. Playing for time, she picked up the dishes slowly, almost casually, then carried them to the sink and placed them in hot soapy water.

When she returned to the table, she pulled out her cigarettes and slowly lit one. “Bob, I can't go with you to Crystal Springs because…”

Deliberately hesitating, she turned to look at Otis and saw his face turn white as he realized she was about to tell Bob everything.

But when she turned to look at her husband's anxious face, Kathleen stopped, her resolve faltering. How could she possibly tell him, even now, how his father really was? That he was the one with the demons, he was the one who needed the help. She couldn't hurt Bob this way. And even though she'd have given almost anything to see the look on Otis's face as her story unfolded, was it honestly worth sacrificing her integrity? She longed for retribution, but there must be some other way. If Bob ever found out the awful truth about his father, he would have to find it out for himself.

“Why can't you go?” Bob asked. “I thought you were gonna give us some good reason why you don't want to be makin' all that money.”

“I don't suppose I have much of a reason,” she finally said weakly. “Except I'm nowhere near as religious as your daddy.”

She knew she was losing her edge and a quick glance at Otis told her he knew it too. He was regaining his composure and she saw the sly smile slash his face when he realized she wasn't going to tell his ghastly secret after all.

She turned to Bob. “When you left for Korea I was filled with guilt. I blamed myself, feeling I was the one who caused you to go. For more than a year I've waited here in Eddisville for you to come home, so I could make it up to you. But when you finally do come home, you're right away sucked in by all this insane claptrap your father hands you.”

Her hands shook as she stubbed out her cigarette. “It makes me see just how different we are, you and I. You've got dollar signs in your eyes, Bob. Dollars you'll be making from people who don't have much money anyway. And what do they get out of this? A piece of cloth run up by Selma on some old sewing machine? Something that's supposed to work miracles because your daddy here prayed over it?”

“Kathleen, there ain't no need…” Bob began, reaching for her.

“Don't. It's no use.” She pushed his hand away. “Can't you see how crazy all this is? Don't you realize how wild it all sounds to someone like me? Go on out to Crystal Springs if you have to, but if you do, it's over between us.”

The room fell deathly quiet. Kathleen didn't know how she'd found the nerve to say all these things. She couldn't bring herself to look directly at Otis, fearful the look she knew would be in those frenzied eyes would strike her dead.

The loud click of the screen door latch cut through the silence, and time stood still as Kathleen watched Belle Tate open the door and step into the room.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Once inside, Belle held fast to the latch. Frozen to the spot, she looked for all the world like a mannequin in a store window. Her eyes, huge and unblinking in her ashen face, darted from Otis to Bob, before she settled her gaze on Kathleen.

“I was worried about you,” she said, the quiver in her voice making the words almost unintelligible “I had to come to make sure you were all right.”

Kathleen strode across the room to her side.

“I'm fine.” She swallowed the big lump in her throat as her arm went around Belle's rigid, yet trembling body. “I'm just fine.”

“Dear sweet Jesus,” Otis said, “if it ain't Belle Tate, white as a ghost. But you ain't no ghost are you Belle? Folks round here been wonderin' for ages if you were even still alive. Some said William killed you off years ago so's he could make out with your nigger maid.”

He leaned back in his chair, his thin lips stretched across his yellow teeth in a cruel smile. “Others said they seen strange lights in your house in the middle of the night. Then there's rumors you been seen peerin' out through them big windows of yours. Shoot, Belle, some little kids get spooked just walkin' by your house at night, afraid you're gonna pop up right in front of them.”

Kathleen, white hot with loathing, glared at him. “How dare you,” she said, struggling to keep from screaming at him. “How dare you sit in this house and speak to Mrs. Tate like that.”

She felt the pressure of Belle's hand in hers, warning her to ease up.

“I want you out of here,” she said to Otis in a calmer voice. “It's late so you can spend the night. But if you're not out of here by tomorrow, I'll call the sheriff and have you thrown out.”

In the midst of her rage, Kathleen knew she'd bested him at last. His eyes had lost their hypnotic stare and his mouth hung open, slack. She shifted her gaze to Bob, expecting to see a look of outrage on his face at his father's vindictive outburst. She'd never come so close to hating him when she saw no such look and realized he wasn't going to say a word.

When they'd first moved into the house, Bob had told her he hadn't laid eyes on Belle Tate since he was fifteen years old. Now, glued to his chair, with his hand covering his mouth, his wide-eyed gaze shifted from Kathleen back to Belle as if she were some phantom figure.

Belle, though, didn't seem nearly as disturbed by all of this as Kathleen would have thought. So terrified at first, she now squeezed Kathleen's hand and the faintest hint of a smile played around her mouth. It was as though the victory of breaking free from the shackles of her fears, and therefore her prison, was greater than any fear she may have harbored of Otis Conroy. After all these years, she'd walked out her back door and made that long, long walk of just fifty yards because she was concerned for Kathleen's safety.

Kathleen flung Otis one last hostile look, then turned to Bob. His face was white and set as he stared at her across the room, across the vast chasm of broken dreams.

“I'm going home with Mrs. Tate. You and your father can have this place to yourselves. We can talk tomorrow after he's gone.”

She held on to Belle's hand as they stepped outside and walked across the yard to the big house.

Once inside, Kathleen bolted the back door, and then checked the front door to make sure it too was locked. When she returned to the kitchen, Belle stood in the middle of the floor as if in a fog; the enormity of what she'd just accomplished seemed to be finally sinking in.

“You did it,” Kathleen said, her voice choking slightly. “Belle, you did it. After nine whole years you finally went outside.”

“I did, didn't I?” Belle whispered, in a voice that said it all. “I just opened the door and walked out.”

Kathleen nodded. “When I heard that click of the screen and turned to see you standing there, I thought I was dreaming.”

“I was afraid for you.” Belle's voice trembled less now. “On a still night like tonight, voices carry across the yard like they do across a stretch of water. I knew Otis was in your house because I saw him standing in the yard before you came home from work.”

She leaned her back against the sink. “After all you've told William and me about him, I just couldn't take a chance. I just had to do it.”

“I used to be afraid of him,” Kathleen said, “but not anymore. I'm only sorry you had to listen to his insulting remarks.”

Belle smiled. “His words were wasted on me. I had other things on my mind. Relief you were all right and amazement at what I'd done.” She put her hands on Kathleen's shoulders. “Can you believe I've really been outside.”

Kathleen gazed in wonder at the transformation in Belle. Her daring deed had already worked a miracle on her appearance. Her usually pallid face was flushed and her eyes shone with the sheer thrill of it all. She looked beautiful.

“I feel like a blind person who's suddenly able to see.” Belle said in a breathless voice. “I thought I'd never again set foot outside this house.”

“Where's Mr. Tate?” Kathleen asked, it suddenly dawning on her Belle had been alone in the house.

“He drove Sarah to St. Helena Island. That's where her brother lives. He's sick and she'll probably stay with him for a few days. William should be back any time. He's been gone most of the day.”

“I can't wait till he gets home,” Kathleen said. “Can you imagine the look on his face when we tell him what you've done?”

Belle walked up and down the room, unable to settle, then walked to the window as the flash of lights indicated a car was pulling into the driveway.

“Here comes William now,” she said. “I don't know what he's going to say to all of this.”

A key turned in the front door lock. “It's me, honey,” Mr. Tate called out in a reassuring voice as he crossed the foyer to the living room.

He greeted them both with a smile and gave Belle a peck on the cheek. Then his astute eyes looked from one to the other before concentrating on his wife.

“What is it Belle? You look feverish. You're not coming down with the flu are you?” he asked, husband-like, as he raised his hand to her forehead.

Belle grinned. “No, William, I'm not coming down with the flu. You'd better sit down while I tell you what I did just a little while ago.”

Kathleen stood to the side as Belle told the story her way. She played down the threat of Otis, and didn't mention his malicious verbal attack. Kathleen considered this a wise move. No telling what Mr. Tate would do if Belle told him the whole story.

William Tate's look changed from astonishment to one of love and pride as Belle's story unfolded. He took her in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth. They looked like a young couple newly fallen in love. After all these years, happy ones at first, then followed by almost a decade of bitter tears, their love for each other was as strong as on the day they married. The emotional scene left Kathleen almost breathless, and she busied herself making a pot of coffee for her and Belle and fixing a whiskey and soda for Mr. Tate.

“What's Otis Conroy doing here in Eddisville anyway?” Mr. Tate asked when all three had finally settled down. “He doesn't give a damn about Bobby. Don't tell me he drove all this way just to see him.”

“In a way he did,” Kathleen said. “I'd started to tell Belle when you came home.”

She told them all about Otis and his faith healing, his tokens and prayer cloths that sold for a couple of dollars apiece after he'd prayed over them. And yes, he had driven all this way to see Bob, to con him into joining him in his ministry

“I'd had it up to here,” she said, slapping her hand under her chin, “and I suppose I was talking loud.”

She turned to Belle. “When I heard the click of the screen and turned to see you standing there, it was like magic. You were so very brave and all for my sake.”

Belle wasn't taking any credit. “I couldn't have done it without you. You've come to mean a lot to William and me. Much more than you realize. It's like having a daughter of our very own.”

Kathleen tingled all over. Obviously, and for heaven alone knew what reason, these two wonderful people loved her very much.

Mr. Tate ran a hand across his forehead. “I don't know what the answer is to all of this wild stuff with Otis. After what you said to him, he'll be gone tomorrow and the only thing you can do I suppose is wait and see what Bobby decides to do.”

The grandfather clock in the hall sang out with its golden-toned Westminster chimes.

“Do you hear that?” Mr. Tate placed his empty glass on the end table. “It's one o'clock in the morning. I can't remember the last time we stayed up so late.”

As Kathleen readied herself for bed an unbearable fatigue replaced the euphoric feeling she'd had since she'd turned to see Belle at the screen door. It was all she could do to climb into the feather bed and pull the covers up to her chin. She felt weighted, so let down by Bob's attitude that nothing short of a miracle could save their marriage now.

* * *

The following evening, as she turned into the driveway, relief washed over her. Otis's car was not there. He'd gone back to Tennessee.

When she entered the house, she closed the door loudly to let Bob know she was home. Through the French doors she could see him on the terrace, the way she'd seen him a hundred times before, with a beer in his hand and a cigarette dangling from his lips. He didn't turn around, even though he must have heard her come in. She walked out to join him. For a few minutes neither spoke. Then, as usual, unable to stand a silence between them for very long, she spoke first.

“I'm sorry about last night, but your daddy had no business speaking to Belle that way. She'd made an enormous effort to get out of her house. I just couldn't stand it and had to defend her.”

He dropped the cigarette end onto the patio and ground it out with his foot. “It don't matter. You got your point across just fine. Daddy said he ain't gonna be comin' here no more so you got nothin' to worry about.”

“Are you still planning on going to Crystal Springs?” Kathleen asked. She hated to bring the subject up yet again but had to know what he'd decided.

“I'm thinkin' seriously about it. You will, too, soon as you quit being so damn hardheaded. Ain't nobody gonna be fool enough to turn down the chance of a lifetime. Not even you.”

He leaned forward and grabbed hold of her wrists. Fright took possession of her as she looked into his hard, cold eyes. “Don't you ever think of leavin' me, Baby. I've been divorced once and I ain't never gonna let it happen again. You'd better be waitin' here for me when I get back from Texas.”

He loosened his grip and took her in his arms, then kissed her hard on the mouth. “When I get back things are gonna be like they were before with you and me, you'll see.”

From his smirk, she realized he was referring to his impotence and not Otis's Church of Divine Power.

She stood still until he finally backed away. “I'll cook dinner,” she said keeping her voice steady. “Then after we've eaten I'll help you pack your things.”

While she prepared the meal she let her mind wander over the last four weeks. Even though Otis hadn't turned up until two days before the end of Bob's leave, there'd been undercurrents from the start. Since that first evening when Bob had been unable to perform, their relationship had been tense. Looking back on the strain of it all, she never thought she'd be so glad to see him go.