"Who was Butch?"
"A nice big red setter. Some kid in a jalopy hit him, and didn't even
stop. I should phone right away."
"I would like to talk to you when you have more time. Could I take you
to lunch today?"
"What do you want to talk to me about?"
The lie was useful again. "I'm doing a book on the ones who didn't come
back. I thought you might help fill me in on Timmy. He mentioned you
many times."
"We used to go together. I--yes, I'll help all I can. Can you pick me
up at twelve-fifteen here?"
"I'll be glad to. And--may I have the picture back?"
She hesitated and then handed it to me. "The girl in this picture was
eighteen. That's a long time ago--" She frowned. "You didn't tell me
your name yet."
"Howard. Tal Howard."
Our glances met for a few seconds. Again there was that strong
awareness and interest. I believe it startled her as much as it did me.
The figure in the picture was a girl. This was a woman, a fulfillment
of all the promises in the picture--a mature and lovely woman--and we
were shyly awkward with each other. She said good-by and went into
the house. I drove back into town. For a long time I had carried the
picture in the photograph in my mind. Now reality was superimposed
on that faded picture. I had imagined that I had idealized the photo
image, given it qualities it did not possess. Now at last I knew that
the reality was stronger, more persuasive than the dreaming.
I found the old Warden house and chatted for a time with the amiable
Mr. Syler who had purchased it from George Warden. It was a big,
high-shouldered frame house and he had cut it into four apartments. Mr.
Syler needed no encouragement to talk. In fact, it was difficult to
get away from him. He complained of the condition of the inside of the
house when he took it over. "That George Warden lived here alone for a
while and that man must have lived like a darn bear."
In addition he complained about the yard. "When I took it over I didn't
expect much grass. But the whole darn place had been spaded up like
somebody was going to plant every inch of it and then just left it
alone."
That was a clue to some of Fitzmartin's activities. He was a man who
would do a good job of searching. And the isolation of the house behind
high plantings would give him an uninterrupted opportunity to dig.
I drove back out through April warmth and picked up Ruth Stamm at the
time she suggested. She had changed to a white sweater and a dark green
skirt. She seemed more reserved, as if she had begun to doubt the
wisdom of coming along with me. As we got into the car I said, "How
did the Bronsons take it?"
"Very hard. I thought they would. But I talked them into getting
another dog right away. That's the best way. Not the same breed, but a
new pup, young enough to need and demand attention."
"Where should we have lunch? Where we can talk."
"The coffee shop at the Hillston Inn is nice."
I remembered seeing it. I was able to park almost in front. She led
the way back through a bleak lobby and down a half flight of stairs
to the coffee shop. It had big dark oak booths upholstered in red
quilted plastic. They were doing a good business. The girls were brisk,
starched. There was a good smell of steaks and chops.
She accepted the offer of a drink before lunch, and said she'd like an
old-fashioned, so I ordered two of them. There was an exceptionally
fresh clean look about her. She handled herself casually and well.
"How well did you know Timmy?" she asked me.
"Pretty well. In a deal like that you get to know people well. Whatever
they are, it shows. You knew him well, too, I guess."
"We went steady. It started seven years ago. Somehow it seems like
longer than seven years. We were seniors in high school when it
started. He'd been going with a friend of mine. Judy Currier. They
had a sort of spat and they were mad at each other. I was mad at the
boy I'd been going with. When he wanted to take me out I went. And we
went together from then on. When we graduated we both went up to state
college at Redding. He only went two years and then came back to help
George. When he quit, I quit, too. We came back here and everybody
thought we were going to get married." She smiled a small wry smile. "I
guess I did, too. But then things changed. I guess he lost interest. He
worked very hard. We drifted apart."
"Were you in love with him?"
She gave me a slightly startled glance. "I thought I was, of course.
Otherwise we wouldn't have been as close. But--I don't know as I can
explain it. You see, Timmy was very popular in high school. He was a
good athlete, and everybody liked him. He was president of the senior
class. I was popular, too. I was queen of the senior pageant and all
that sort of thing. We both liked to dance and we were good at it. It
was as if people _expected_ us to go together. It seemed right to other
people. And that sort of infected us, I guess. Maybe we fell in love
with the way we looked together, and felt the responsibility of what
other people wanted us to be. We made a good team. Do you understand
that?"
"Of course."
"When it finally ended it didn't hurt as badly as I would have thought
it would. If it hadn't ended, we would have gone on and gotten married
and--I guess it would have been all right." She looked puzzled.
"What kind of a guy was he, Ruth?"
"I told you. Popular and nice and--"
"Underneath."
"I don't want to feel--disloyal or anything."
"Another drink?"
"No. We better order, thanks." After we had given the order, she
frowned beyond me and said, "There was something weak about Timmy.
Things had come too easily. His mind was good and his body was good
and he made friends without trying. He'd never been--tested. I had
the feeling that he thought that things would always be that easy all
his life. That he could always get whatever he wanted. It worried me
because I'd learned the world isn't like that. It was as though nothing
had ever happened to him to make him grow up. And I used to wonder what
would happen when things started to go wrong. I knew he'd either turn
into a man, or he'd start to whine and complain."
"He turned into a man, Ruth."
There was a sudden look of tears in her eyes. "I'm glad to hear that.
I'm very glad to hear that. I wish he'd come back."
"I think you would have seen that I'm right. After he stopped going
with you, who did he go with before he went into the army?"