THE LOUNGE

 

 

            Jody did not want to enter that lounge with the Forresters. And he certainly did not want to tell them why. He had come with them to Grahamsville, and they had chosen this spot to take a noontime break. Fortunately, the Forresters just assumed that Jody was being shy about entering such an establishment, having been raised so conservatively. They couldn't know that he was simply terrified to encounter two of Oliver's cousins, while in the company of the Forresters. So they merely laughed and teased and compelled him to enter. The moment that they were inside, he saw her, dancing onstage as always. He gulped in fear for her, if the Forresters should discover her identity. Jody suppressed a heavy sigh and slinked to the table of the Forresters' choice, keeping his head down, and trying to hide amidst their noisy herd. They chose a table right next to the stage, paralleling the dance-floor.

            To Jody's consternation, the Forresters had already noticed Nivea. Buck was the most impressed.

            "Now that is one purty leetle gal," he declared.

            Arch pointed out, "Jody's been noticin' her, too."

            The child regarded him guiltily, self-consciously.

            Mill-wheel nudged Jody. "You know her?"

            Jody did not dare lie; the girl would recognize him soon enough. "Uh, well, yeah, sort of," he stammered.

            Pack teased, "You think she's purty, Jody?"

            "I reckon," he mumbled.

            Buck gave Jody a playful look. "Jody? You sweet on her?"

            Before the boy could frame any reply, Mill-wheel guffawed. "Oops! Buck and Jody'll be fightin' over her!"

            Jody turned to Mill-wheel in wide-eyed alarm. "Aw no!" Then, he quickly looked at Buck in near fear. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lem enjoying the prospect.

            Buck laughed good-naturedly. "Don't fret, boy; I don't even know her. Iffen you like her, I'll leave her be."

            His voice slightly shaky, Jody insisted emphatically, "She's jest a friend!"

            Buck's twinkling eyes revealed that either he was not convinced or he still just wanted to tease. "All right, iffen you say so."

           

            Meanwhile, Nivea danced and glanced, frequently, watchfully, toward the doorway, looking for trouble. Well, that newly-arrived bunch certainly looked like trouble, but at least not the trouble that she was expecting. Then, she looked twice: Jody Baxter was among them.

            "Hey, Jody!" she greeted enthusiastically.

            "Hey, Niv." He was less than enthused. His companions stared at him. Then, he clearly thought better of his tone, and asked, "Where's Tony?"

            She made a face. "He should be here by now, but he's probably off visitin' his gal."

            Jody was mortified when she ran over to him excitedly, stooped down by his chair, and declared, "Guess what, Jody! Next week, Tony and me're goin' to see Oliver!"

            In near panic, Jody glanced rapidly between Nivea and the Forresters.

            "Oliver?!" Lem growled.

            Jody began to slide miserably down into his chair, well on his way to going under the table.

            Buck and Mill-wheel, on either side of him, grabbed his arms and hauled him back up to sit properly in his seat.

            "So that's why you ain't wanted to come here," Arch realized, sotto voce.

            All of the other Forresters riveted their attention on her words.

            Jody's spine straightened painfully, and he regarded Lem in alarm. "No! Niv...! Don't...! Ouch!"

            Lem had kicked him under the table, hard, and now he stared at the boy murderously, silently commanding him to shut up immediately.

            "Ask your pa iffen you kin go with us!"

            "No! I cain't...!" He turned toward Buck, hoping for some kind of support.

            Instead, Buck regarded him coldly.

            "Anyways, come on, he'd let you! Maybe even go with us hisself!"

            "No, really, Niv, don't say...!"

            Lem kicked him twice as hard. Jody let out a wordless cry, and nearly fell forward onto the table.

            "Why, Jody, what ails you?" she laughed.

            Jody met Lem's eyes, and instantly wished that he hadn't. "Uh, nothin', I jest got a cramp in my leg."

            "Think 'bout it, at least. I gotta dance this part." Off she went to perform a complex section of her art.

            "Oliver?!" Lem demanded more insistently.

            "Tell it, Jody," Buck said sternly. "who is she?"

            He murmured miserably, "She's...Nivea Hutto." He eyed the men fearfully.

            "Hutto!" Lem managed to hiss, even without sibilants.

            "His cousin," he whispered.

            Mill-wheel glowered at him as well, and the rest of the Forresters looked none too pleased.

            "Fellers, please!" he implored. "Please don't do nothin'! They's innocent! Nivie and Tony had nothin' to do with it! She don't even know who you-all are! Else, she'd not be talkin' 'bout...."

            "'Bout Oliver comin' back?!" Lem challenged. "Find out where she aims to meet him!"

            "Please! I cain't git him kilt!"

            The Forresters glowered at him dangerously.

            Jody slouched in his chair, intimidated.

            In another break between sets, she dashed over again.

            Jody raised his hands to figuratively fend her off, and urged, "Don't say...!"

            "Anyways, come on; go to Boston with us!"

            Jody sagged in sudden overpowering relief. "I...thought you meant...he was comin' here...and you and Tony was meetin' him someplace in Floridy!"

            She regarded him ruefully for a long moment, and then admonished him, "Now you know better'n that. You know he cain't do that. And you of all people know why. He cain't never come back here."

            Jody was nodding breathlessly, registering in his peripheral vision the Forresters' vast disappointment in loss-of-opportunity, but smugness over their major impact on Oliver's life.

            "He cain't never come back...." She gazed sadly into the distance. Then, she shook herself and forced a return to cheerfulness. "So we're goin' there." She danced away again.

            Jody and the Forresters gazed silently at each other; there were no words, but their eyes spoke volumes. Then, Jody dropped his head to rest on the tabletop, with an overwhelmed moan of relief.

            The Forresters looked at him, and couldn't decide whether to be angry with his near interference again, or amused by his dramatic collapse. After exchanging rueful glances with each other, they marginally chose amusement.

            Jody gradually dragged himself upright once again, appearing totally spent. With exhausted dread, he forced himself to meet the eyes of each Forrester, one by one. With the exception of Lem, they managed varying degrees of slightly-amused near-sympathy.

            Mill-wheel even raised his brows and remarked humorously to Jody, "Close call, eh, boy?"

            Still panting slightly with terror, Jody could only nod.

            Mill-wheel smirked.

            Buck pursed his lips at Jody and tried not to smile, as he said succinctly, "Needless to say, don't try that agin."

            Jody winced and lowered his eyes.

            Lem leaned across the table at him. "You think I hurted you under the table? That weren't nothin'. Don't interfere! Iffen you wanta leave here in one piece."

            Jody's lower lip trembled.

            "Tony!" he heard her yell joyfully, and he raised his head again to see. The handsome young blond fellow took Nivea in his arms and spun her expertly around the dance floor.

            Buck nudged Jody, and asked evenly, "He her feller?"

            Again reluctant, Jody shook his head and confessed, "Another cousin."

            Clearly irked, Arch demanded, "He a Hutto, too?"

            Jody nodded wordlessly. Lem cursed fluently.

            Jody offered, "Their three pas was brothers. They was all three sailors. All three died together on a boat that sank, long ago."

            Pack observed, "He looks a mite like Oliver."

            "Younger," Jody supplied. "Tony's younger'n Oliver. Nivie's younger'n Tony."

            Lem guessed shrewdly, "You tellin' us they's younger, 'cause you're hopin' we'll take pity and leave 'em be?"

            Wide-eyed, Jody nodded silently. Then, he repeated, "They don't even know who you-all are!"

            "And jest why do that matter?" Buck inquired coolly.

            "They know he cain't come back; they know what happened to him; they know about you-all, but they don't know hit's you. Else, she'd not be talkin' 'bout him right in front o' you that-a-way."

            "That don't answer Buck's question," Mill-wheel stated pointedly.

            "Please...!!" Jody regarded each of them helplessly.

            "Hey, Jody," Tony greeted from right beside Jody, making him jump.

            "Oh! Hey, Tony."

            To Jody's dismay, Buck addressed the newcomer, "Kin your cousin Oliver dance fancy like you two been doin'?"

            "Oh yeah! He's much better'n we are! You should see him!"

            All six Forresters wore "we'd like to" expressions.

            Tony danced away from them.

            "You agree?" Buck challenged Jody conversationally. "Oliver dances better?"

            "Yeah, Oliver's much better'n...." Jody blushed hotly, seeing their accusing expressions. He fumbled and stammered, "...better'n they are." He hung his head. He had now revealed that he'd been here before, that Oliver used to dance here with the cousins, and that he, Jody, had seen the occurrence. The Forresters, as usual, were not pleased with the clearly deepening camaraderie between the Baxters and the Huttos.

            Jody glanced helplessly at Lem, and pulled his legs back as far as possible under his chair, expecting another kick. None came, but Lem's eyes smoldered at him.

            Lem muttered cruelly, "Well, I doubt he was doin' much dancin' after we beat hell outen him."

            Jody kept his eyes down and made no reply.

 

            Suddenly, there was a shrill whistle, as of a man placing two fingers between his lips. Nivea looked to the door, instantly on alert, and called to the whistler, "Pete??"

            "Trouble!!" the friend yelled.

            Nivea grabbed Tony, shoved him to the bar, and pushed him down behind it. She then hastily recommenced dancing alone, with a forcibly casual, untroubled air. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jody's questioning expression, and quickly barked at him, "Stay out of it!"

            Three rather brutish, tough-looking types entered in a herd, and approached her, while she studiously ignored them, dancing as if carefree.

            "Well, Nivea??" one of them demanded.

            She turned to look as if only just aware of them, and snarled, "What d'you want, Gus Slater?"

            "You know who I want. Your cousin."

            "I got two cousins," she said blithely, and kept dancing.

            "You know which one I want," he retorted. "The one that's been messin' with my gal."

            "Ain't neither of 'em doin' that."

            "Andrea is my gal," he insisted.

            "No. She's Tony's." She continued to dance, executing fancy moves as if the new arrivals were of no consequence.

            "Where is Tony?" Gus demanded.

            "How should I know? I ain't his keeper."

            "He's supposed to be dancin' here with you, I know. Hit's his job. And yourn."

            "He's late today. What d'you keer?" She pirouetted, and one of Gus' companions grabbed her. Now stilled, she bellowed, "Hey! You unhand me, Joe Slater!"

            "Where is he?" this second one demanded.

            "I don't know, and I'd not tell you even iffen I did," she shouted into his face.

            "He might be with Andrea," the third one suggested.

            "Good guess, Jefferson Davis Slater," Nivea retorted. "Since she's his gal."

            Gus said, "Now we'll jest go see kin we find him." His chin jutted out challengingly as if he expected the prospect to frighten her.

            "Now you jest do that," she encouraged in bravado, deliberately unworriedly.

            "Iffen we don't find him, we're comin' back."

            "Oh, be still my heart," she mocked. Then, she stood and watched them as they exited through the front door. The moment that the Slaters had departed, Nivea dropped all feigned nonchalance and sagged with the weight of the world. Panting, she watched until friend Pete gave her the "all clear" sign. She turned to slink toward the bar and Tony, but Jody caught her eye.

            "Nivie?? What???"

            "I know," she sighed deeply.

            "Who was they???"

            "The Slaters. They's all three brothers."

            Without thinking, Jody blurted harshly, "Your family is cursed!"

            "Jody!" she fussed, wounded by the unkind remark.

            The men with Jody laughed with gusto, but she ignored it.

            "Sorry." Jody was contrite.

            She shrugged, but then added, "I meant what I said: you stay clear o' this. We ain't gittin' you hurted agin. Our family's got you into too much trouble a'ready. Hit's our fight."

            "But, you...!" He subsided when the man beside him put a restraining hand on his shoulder. He met the man's eyes, and obediently dropped his.

 

            "Well, ain't this int'restin'?" said Lem, vaguely accusingly, when she had returned to her dancing.

            Jody met his gaze glumly. "I didn't know," he responded feebly.

            Buck said kindly, "We kin tell you ain't knowed. But I agree with her: you keep outen this."

            Lem folded his arms grumpily across his chest. "Seems them Huttos steal other fellers' gals a heap."

            "I didn't know," Jody repeated grimly.

            "Yeah, you said that," Lem growled.

            Mill-wheel agreed with Buck, "We ain't blamin' you no-ways. But you don't git involved in this."

            "Yes sir. I mean, no sir. I mean, whatever you say." Jody slumped on the table.

 

            Nivea danced over to the bar and gave three quick raps on top of it, making it instantly clear that all of this was a relatively common event.

            Tony re-emerged, and recommenced dancing with her.

            "We cain't keep this up," she told him bluntly.

            "I know. But Andrea ain't yit made up her mind to run off with me."

            "Well, I sure hope she'll figger it out in time for next week. She could go with us. And even after I come back here, you could stay with Oliver awhiles. Oliver'd be very sympathetic and understandin'," she added, a bit sarcastically.

            Tony rolled his eyes, and protested, "But I cain't push her."

            "What you cain't do is put this family through what Oliver put us through! You ain't doin' this to us agin! Worryin' the rest of us half sick like Oliver done! And so horrible hurted! You ain't gonna end up like Oliver!!"

            She noticed from the corner of her eye that Jody and his companions were listening intently, but she paid them no mind.

 

            Less than an hour later, Pete gave another shrill whistle.

            "Move!" Nivea insisted.

            Tony drew up in pride. "Ain't right to jest hide! Huttos don't hide!"

            "Sometimes we do! Oliver reached that point, but not soon enough! Now do you wanta reach that point the hard way, like he done?"

            Tony hesitated. "Well, no. Not pertickler."

            "Then come on!"

             Tony dove behind the bar, and Nivea went on dancing grimly. Forcibly holding her head up proudly as the Slaters entered, she watched with increasing concern as the three strolled right past her and toward the bar.

            "I figger we kin guess the only hidin' place in here," Gus stated ominously.

            Nivea stopped dancing, sagged in dismay, exchanged a frantic look with Jody, and stared at the Slaters in consternation. Jody half-rose from his seat, and was grabbed and restrained by one of the men accompanying him.

            Tony rose grimly to face his tormentors, just as Gus moved to lean across the bar at him.

            Nivea looked around desperately, grabbed a heavy glass bottle from an unoccupied table, stealthily sneaked up on the Slaters, and brought it down hard to shatter onto Gus' head from behind, just as he began to reach across the bar at Tony. The glass crashed noisily and Gus crumpled to the floor unconscious. Joe Slater whirled in response to the attack on Gus, but Nivea, expecting that, was already dropping self-defensively to the floor in a heap. She screamed unnecessarily shrilly, as a distraction, as Joe bent to try to get hold of the squirming, screeching girl. Tony vaulted over the bar, straight at the confused Jefferson Davis Slater, clearly the youngest of the three brothers. Tony landed on him hard, and easily smashed Jefferson Davis' head on the floor. Now he and Gus were both out cold. Tony brought a nearby jug down onto Joe's preoccupied head. Joe hadn't even seen him coming, still trying, as he was, to wrestle the curled up ball of Nivea up from the floor to face him. She only stopped screaming once she felt Joe stop prying at her, as he, too, collapsed, out cold.

            Nivea raised her head carefully to peer around at the three inactive Slaters. Tony helped her up, and she brushed off her skirt. Tony grabbed several lengths of rope from behind the bar, throwing one to her, and observing, "They'll not be out for long enough for us to git away."

            Tony bent and tied Gus first, and then moved on to Joe. Nivea was sitting on the floor, tying Jefferson Davis Slater's ankles, when he partially came to, and his hand grabbed her ankle. She shrieked, and kicked him in the face with her other foot, knocking him out again.

            "Tie his hands first, Niv!" Tony fussed.

            "All right, all right! You figger I've done this b'fore???"

            Task completed, they both staggered back to their feet, and stood panting and glancing at Jody whose anxiety was etched plainly in his face.

            "I'm sorry, Jody," Nivea said. "We cain't wait 'til next week to go. And we cain't take you with us, 'cause we'll not be comin' back. Now, we...cain't never come back here no more, neither. Jest like Oliver." She looked overwhelmingly sad. Ruefully, she added, "More Huttos runnin' off to Boston, how 'propriate. Oliver'll be very sympathetic," she said in bitter sarcasm. "And he'll jest love hearin' this story."

            "I'll go tell Andrea," Tony declared. "We got to pack."

            "Don't take long. And tell her it's now or never. Iffen she don't go with us now, she's stuck with Gus. That oughta move her faster."

            Tony fled on his mission.

            Nivea faced Jody, still out of breath.

            Jody was stunned. "You...!"

            She nodded, a bit sheepishly.

            "You won!" Jody said in astonishment.

            "You cheated," said one of the men with him, a clean-shaven man.

            She regarded the man helplessly, "Well, how else could I...?" She was struggling to catch her breath. Then, she addressed Jody, "I had to at least try to he'p Tony. I've never got over, we ain't been there for Oliver. 'Twas 'cause we was here, o' course, not in Volusia. But we still feel so guilty. We shoulda been there for him. You was, but we wa'n't."

            Another companion, a bearded one, said, "Oh? You woulda got in it? Oliver's fight?" He seemed amused.

            "Well, we woulda...tried...I s'pose...we woulda had to...."

            "Nivie!" Jody fussed desperately.

            "What??" She was exasperated at his tone, the same odd tone that he had favored all day.

            "They...you...they...!!!"

            Somehow, between Jody's fumbling awkwardness and all of his companions' amused grins at her, Nivea got it. It sank in; she finally knew.

            "Oh no. Oh god. You're.... Oh no." She backed away from them and stumbled.

            Jody launched from his chair, dragged it with him, and got it behind her, before she could faint to the floor. She sat down hard.

            "Oh no. Oh my god. Oh no."

            The Forresters were quite tickled with her reaction.

            She briefly turned on Jody. "Whyn't you tell me??!!" She even batted his arm lightly.

            "I tried! I kept sayin', 'Don't say,' but you kept interruptin' me, and talkin' 'bout Oliver...!"

            "I'm sorry! I didn't have much time to tell you...news...betwixt dancin'...." Then, she realized, "You didn't have no cramp!"

            "No!" Jody retorted. "I was gittin' the daylights kicked outen me, under the table!"

            The Forresters' laughter was uproarious at that.

            A black-bearded giant stood up, grinning, and challenged, "So? You'da he'ped Oliver and takened us on, eh?"

            She watched him rise to his full overwhelming height, her eyes following to his face way above hers, and said automatically, "No...no...no...."

            He chuckled, thoroughly enjoying her misery, which was a clear combination of embarrassment and fright.

            "Please...which...one...are...you???"

            "I'm Buck."

            "Uh oh. You're one o' the ones that...uh oh." She panted a bit more, even gasping a trifle. "Please...which one...is...Lem???"

            "I am," said the clean-shaven, humorless one. He stood to show her his height as well.

            Nivea couldn't manage a word; she just whimpered at the overpowering sight of him. After a moment, she asked softly, "And who else?? Who's...???"

            "I'm Mill-wheel." A third rose, barely suppressing laughter. "I reckon I'm the other one you're askin' 'bout."

            She stared up at him, sagged in the chair, gulped, and then turned her face into Jody's side and clung to his arm.

            "Sorry, Nivie." He awkwardly stroked her hair, clearly out of his element in trying to be comforting.

            At last, she turned back to the Forresters, and mumbled, "Then, you...other...three...??"

            The three seated Forresters gave their names as well, and then Arch answered her unspoken question, "We wa'n't there in town that day."

            "Good," she said feebly, turned to Jody again, and murmured, "I'm dizzy!"

            "Okay. Um. Okay." He uncomfortably held onto her, to keep her in the chair.

            Buck said, in good humor, "We had our fight in the street. You'd not've found no bottles to crack us in the head that-a-way."

            Clearly, her eyes could barely focus. "I couldn'ta reached your head, that high up, anyways. And somehow, I don't think I coulda sneaked up on you."

            The Forresters exchanged grins.

            One quickly-suppressed sob escaped her. "I'm terrified you'll do to us what you done to Oliver!"

            Buck's eyes softened. "We'll not."

            "Please...let us go...will you???"

            He shrugged. "We got no reason to hold you here."

            "You ain't riled...'cause o' our fight bein' kinda like yourn? Or at least, for the same reason?"

            "We got no stake in your fight."

            "Thank you," she mumbled weakly.

            A harried Tony entered, with two suitcases and a young lady in tow.

            Nivea regarded her harshly. "'Bout time you made up your mind," she chastened. Then, she glanced at the Forresters, leaped at Tony, grabbed his face in her hands, and whispered furiously to him, in the ear turned away from the Forresters.

            His eyes widened impossibly, and he bellowed, "What?!!" Then, he turned in horror toward the Forresters, and yelled, "Christ a'mighty!!"

            Buck guffawed, and said, "Now I know she ain't told you that's who we was."

            Mill-wheel teased, "Nivea told us you two mighta fought for Oliver in Volusia, iffen you'd been there."

            "No! Yes!! No!!!" He was shaking his head and backing away from them.

            "Andrea!" roared a tied Gus Slater from the floor. "Come 'ere! Untie me!"

            "Shut up, Gus!" shouted Nivea. "We gotta go!" she told Tony and Andrea. She turned and gave Jody an urgent hug good-bye. Then, she turned and regarded the Forresters skittishly, and whispered humbly, "Thank you for leavin' us go."

            Lem smirked and called, "Hey, Nivea."

            "Sir?" she quavered.

            "Tell Oliver to come back any time. We'll be waitin' for him." He let his fists clench at his sides, for effect.

            Meaningfully, she replied, "I'll warn him."

            "Ain't no warnin'. It's an invitation," he said, with an unsavory gleam in his eye.

            Nivea shuddered hard and grabbed her cousin, pushing him out the door ahead of her.

            The Forresters' laughter trailed her out through the exit.