Читать книгу Nobody Said Amen - Tracy Sugarman - Страница 12

The rooster outside Mendelsohn’s window had startled him awake at sunrise, so Rennie’s call from the bedroom door came as he was already dressing. “Somebody been messing with your car I think, Ted. I couldn’t see, it was before sun up. When I went to the window, wasn’t nobody there. But I heard somethin’.”

Mendelsohn went outside and gingerly inspected the Chevy, flinching as he inched up the dusty hood and explored with his fingers under the dash. Rennie was watching from the window, so he waved reassuringly and then eased down, sliding under the car. Explosives? What the hell did he know about explosives? Nothing. And unless they were labeled EXPLOSIVES he’d probably not know them when he saw them. He crawled back into the driver’s seat and stared at the ignition key, willing himself to turn on the motor. When he closed his eyes and turned the key, the Chevy purred to life. He was wringing wet and grinning with relief when he stepped from the car. Rennie and Sharon were smiling and waving from the house. And then he saw the slashed rear tire. With a sigh, the car tilted, the last air finally escaping. By the time he’d jacked up the car and removed the damaged wheel, he was greasy and dripping with sweat.

“No place to go except Kilbrew’s,” Rennie said. “Not that they’ll be any help. Next place is seven miles away, up in Ruleville.”

He left the Williams yard, pushing the damaged wheel before him. At the Sojourner Chapel he paused for breath and then headed across Highway 49 to the Kilbrew Gas and Auto Repair. “Anybody here? Hello!”

The door opened, and a demure young woman stood at the entrance. Carrying a small linen purse and dressed in a white cotton shift, she seemed foreign to the scene and appeared uncomfortable. She stared at him and then said softly, “Good morning.”

“Good morning. Wasn’t sure anybody was here. Somebody who can help me with this tire? I’m staying across the highway and when I came out this morning somebody had—” He stopped to look around the deserted station. “Well, this tube has got to be repaired and the tire replaced.”

“My brother’s gone on a service call, and I promised to keep an eye on things till he gets back. I don’t work here. You can leave the tire if you want. Bobby Joe is pretty busy, so I can’t rightly tell you if and when it’ll get done.” She paused, cocked her head and looked hard at Mendelsohn. When she spoke again, the timidity had gone from her voice. “I don’t guess Bobby Joe is going to want to help you. You’re one of those Freedom Riders over in the Sanctified Quarter, aren’t you?”

Before he could answer, a pretty, blond, and pregnant woman emerged from the office and planted herself boldly in front of the office door. “We saw you when you first drove into the Quarter, didn’t we, Em? You had another white boy next to you and two Nigras crouching down in the back seat.” She chuckled. “Welcome to Shiloh. Population 3,107. The most vigilant town in Magnolia County!”

Mendelsohn had to laugh. “Thank you for the welcome.” He dropped the tire, suddenly conscious in their presence of how he must look, and wiped his hands on his grimy jeans. “Well, I sure can’t do much freedom riding with this damn tire, ladies. So I’m going to have to leave it. Maybe Bobby Joe will show a little Christian spirit. I’ll appreciate it.”

The pregnant woman smiled. “You don’t look like the others.”

“Beg your pardon?”

She flushed. “I said you don’t look like the others.”

He returned her smile. “I’m just like the others. I’m twenty years older than they are, but I’m just like them.”

She laughed softly, turned briefly to her embarrassed companion, then pointed her finger at him. “Take off your sunglasses,” she demanded. “I’ve got questions for you, and I want to see your eyes.” Puzzled, but intrigued by the glint of brazen fun in her voice, Mendelsohn removed his sunglasses and stepped forward. “What would you like to ask me?”

Surprised by his willingness, she wetted her lips and pondered. “Well, Em and I were wondering . . . ” She halted, then raised her chin, her green eyes flashing. “No, that’s not fair. Not Em. Me. I was wondering what are you doing down here in Shiloh?” The woman’s silent companion, lips parted and eyes wide, edged back to the entrance of the office.

“I’m spending the summer writing and taking photographs. I’m a journalist. And I’m covering the kids who came down here to work.”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you bein’ a journalist for?”

“Newsweek magazine.”

“Newsweek magazine! Up in New York City?” Up in New York City sounded as if she were speaking of the Land of Oz.

He tried not to smile. “Yeah. That’s where the publisher is. He sends us working types out to see the country. That’s how I got to Shiloh.”

Excited now, she moved closer. A very feminine summer aroma of lavender and suntan lotion made his thoughts drift. Her face was very near. “Would you answer me honest?”

Her companion interrupted from the doorway, “Willy! What in the world?”

“It’s all right, Em.” She never took her eyes from his face. “Would you really talk with me?”

Mendelsohn stared. Where was this going? He hadn’t been near a woman who smelled so good in—Christ! Six weeks? “Sure, Let’s talk. What’s bothering you?”

She pouted and frowned. “Well, we can’t talk here!”

He gazed slowly around the empty station and asked innocently, “Why not?”

She exploded, “Because this is a gas station!” Taking a deep breath, she plunged ahead. “Would you come to my house?”

Em looked shocked but remained silent. Mendelsohn grinned and nodded. “Well, thank you. That’s the first invitation I’ve had from the white community since I arrived in Magnolia County.”

“Now don’t start that!”

“Look, before I accept your kind invitation, you ought to know that if I come I’m liable to jeopardize your position in Shiloh. When I drive in or out of the Sanctified Quarter, people notice. You both noticed. And I’m often followed.”

“Don’t be silly. Everybody in Shiloh knows me. Just come.” She pointed south. “You go down 49 past the high school. First road on the right. The Claybourne place. Anybody can show you.”

“Thank you.” He thought of what it would be like if Dale Billings met this woman, and could hardly suppress his smile. “Can I bring some of the kids I’m living with? You’d like them.”

Her eyes widen in horror. “Heavens, no!”

He laughed at her vehemence. “They don’t bite! When would you like me to come?”

Her eyes were bright with anticipation and she turned to Em. “Can Bobby Joe fix his tire by Wednesday? He’ll need his car to get out to the plantation.”

Looking very uncomfortable, Em stared at the blonde, then shrugged. “I’ll talk to him.”

The pregnant woman clapped delightedly. “Bobby Joe’s never said no to Emily in his whole life. So why don’t you come Wednesday afternoon, one-thirty. Em, you come, too.” She extended her hand to him. When he took it, it felt smooth and surprisingly cool. She smiled. “My name is Wilson Claybourne. What’s yours?”