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Mary Sue sat back quickly. “Oh, I didn’t mean that. I’d never think that. It’s just—”
“Everybody’s talking.”
She fiddled with a tuft of hair on the top of her head. The tuft had been teased straight up and then over, into a semicurl, making a sort of half palm tree. “Not really,” she said. “I mean, yes and no. Some people are, but it’s not like Betty and Wayne in the basement. Everybody was talking about that. You could practically have written a book.” She came close again and lowered her voice. “See, I have an idea. I think I figured it all out.” Her eyes gave off spiky flashes. “That Butcher Benedict. I’ve noticed him before. He’s a little sex maniac.”
“You think so?”
“I’ve watched him. He really is. I’ve seen him down at the News Depot. He stands in front of the magazine rack and looks at the magazines that have pictures of girls. He’s so little he thinks nobody notices. But once Mr. McClain caught him and chased him out.”
“Gee.” I’d hardly thought about Butcher since it happened, I’d been so preoccupied with myself.
“Am I right?” Mary Sue pushed her head forward. She really could be very perceptive sometimes. Underneath it all, she probably understood people better than I did. I guess that’s why I was always drawn to her, even when we were very young. Still, I could see she was getting too excited about this. Standing up abruptly, I went to the window.
“The whole thing is too confusing,” I said. “I just want it to end.” I spun and faced her. “I hope you’re not gossiping about me, Mary Sue. Too many people are talking as it is, and I’d hate to get that from you.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I wouldn’t ever do that.” To avoid my stare, she picked up another cookie and studied its underside. “Hey! I’ve got an idea,” she said, dropping the cookie. “Let’s go down to Wally’s. I’ll play ‘Tutti-Frutti’ for you. He’s got it on demonstration down there.”
“I don’t know.” Wally’s Record Emporium is on North Emerson, just off the square. “Too many people might be hanging around. Besides, I don’t want to get close to the square. All those hoods.”
“No one will see you. We’ll go the back way. And once we’re there, we’ll stay in the sound booth.”
I considered for a moment. The idea of getting out for a while was tempting. And I realized I wanted to spend more time with Mary Sue—it was a relief to talk to her. I checked with Mrs. Vernon, and she thought a visit to Wally’s was a fine idea. She seemed pleased to get the two of us out of the house. So after I’d washed up and put on a fresh blouse and shorts, we headed downtown, walking along Prosperity, past the KTD. Mary Sue’s father has worked at the factory for years, and I asked if he’d talked about what would happen if it closed. She said he hadn’t mentioned it.
Crossing the railroad tracks, I bent down and laid my palm flat on the rail.
“Why’d you do that?” Mary Sue asked.
“To feel if there was a train coming.”
“Yeah, but we used to do that years ago. You haven’t done that in years.”
“I just felt like it,” I said.
A few steps later, Mary Sue asked, “Well, was one coming?”
“No.”
She stared at me. “What do you do in there all day? I mean, it’s summer. It seems so boring.”
“It’s not bad. Bunny comes almost every day.” I stopped myself from mentioning Mrs. O’Brien. Too hard to explain a social worker. “And I’ve made friends with a minister. He’s wonderful. He comes a lot.”
“A minister?” Mary Sue scrunched her nose. This might be hard to explain, too.
“From the Congregational Church. Reverend Vaughn. He’s not like, you know, a minister. He doesn’t talk about God or anything. He’s young.”
“Is he cute? What
do you do with him?”
“We take walks and talk. He’s incredibly smart.” I let my enthusiasm bubble over. “He’s kinda cute, and he’s so tall, Mary Sue. He towers over me.”
She turned and looked up at the top of my head, then just above it, as if trying to imagine what it would take to tower over me. “Hmmm,” she said.
“Oh, here’s something weird,” I said. “Guess who came one night and threw a stone at my window.”
“Who?”
“Elro Judy.”
