This one’s wild. I’m not saying she doesn’t work—she does. She works like hell, but Emmie—that’s my first wife—
would never have spoken to you the way Lola did just now. She would never
have driven off like that without a word. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t
be tougher with her. Sometimes I’m tempted to smack her behind when she
hits the roof. Maybe I should.”
As dangerous as slapping a rattlesnake, I thought, but I didn’t say so.
“I’ve often wondered where she came from. She never would tell me. She’s
hard, Jack. She must have had a pretty hard life. It worries me, too, the way
she goes into Wentworth on her own.
When you came, I planned she and me could do a movie once or twice a
week, but she won’t go with me. When I suggest it, she has a headache or
she’s too tired. I sometimes wonder . . .” He broke off, shaking his head. He
walked heavy footed to the cupboard to get more butter.
“You wonder what?” I said, feeling sorry for him.
“Never mind.” He began buttering the bread. “I guess I’m talking too much.”
I let it go, but I had an idea what he was wondering about. He was wondering
if she had found some guy younger than himself. He was wondering if she
were cheating.
Around eleven o’clock the traffic fell away. Jenson and I had run the lunch
room together. My fried chicken had been a success. We had served ten
dinners which wasn’t bad. At eleven-fifteen the Mercury pulled up outside
the bungalow and Lola got out.
She went straight in and we heard her bedroom door slam.
Jenson shook his head.
“Maybe I’d better talk to her.”
“I’d leave it,” I said. “She’ll be okay tomorrow.”
“Well, okay. Maybe you’re right.” He still looked worried. “I guess I’ll turn
in. We’re all clear now, aren’t we?”
“Everything’s fine,” I said. “Goodnight, Mr. Jenson.”
“Goodnight, Jack.”
I watched him cross to the bungalow. The light in her room was on, but it
snapped out as he opened the front door. The light in his room, which was
next to hers, went on.
I came out onto the lunch room veranda and sat down in one of the basket
chairs. I was feeling scared, worried sick and tired. I lit a cigarette and settled
down to wait. I knew she wouldn’t come out here for some time: I had a long
wait ahead of me.
I imagined her in her dark bedroom, waiting for Jenson to go to sleep. I
wondered what she was thinking about and what she was planning.
If I had had my money, instead of giving it to Jenson to take care of, I would
have cleared out now. I would have bribed the first trucker to come in for gas
to take me into Tropica Springs. But without money, I was sunk.
So I sat in the darkness, watching the bungalow and waiting for her to come.
********************
TO BE CONTINUED
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