The Sound of Rain Page 3

  “Reckon I saw enough. Might like to fish off that pier sometime.”

  “You made it all the way down to the pier and back?” Hank seemed surprised and maybe a little pleased. Judd opted not to mention he’d had company. “Fishing I can handle. First day we both have off we’ll head on out there and see what we can hook. Then maybe, one of these days, you can return the favor by taking me hunting up there in West Virginia. I hear the deer are twice the size of the ones in South Carolina.”

  The waitress appeared with plates of food, saving Judd from responding. He looked over the pile of fried stuff heaped on an oval platter big enough to feed half of Bethel. And this was just for him. He dug in, realizing he was near starved enough to polish off the whole thing.

  After a few minutes, Hank took a long swallow of beer and pointed at Judd’s plate with his chin. “How is it?”

  “Almost as good as rainbow trout rolled in cornmeal and fried in butter.”

  Hank laughed long and loud. “Sounds like we can take the man out of West Virginia, but not West Virginia out of the man.” He watched Judd wash some popcorn shrimp down with a swallow of sweet tea. “You’ll get a full-on dose of the South when you start loading pulpwood on Monday. Eat up, son. You’re gonna need your strength.”

  After dinner, Hank dropped Judd off at the boardinghouse. He unpacked his few things—clothes in the dresser drawer, toiletries on the dresser top, Bible, and Joe’s copy of The Deer Stalker by Zane Grey on the bedside table. Then he sat in the only chair in the room and considered what to do next. It was Friday and he had two days to get through until he reported for work. Hank said he’d pick him up Monday and take him out to the jobsite. Seemed like a long time till then.

  Judd decided to get out and walk around the neighborhood. Maybe he could find a place to buy some provisions to last him through the weekend. Goodness knows he wasn’t going to eat any more fisherman’s platters until he’d gotten a paycheck or two. He wished Joe were there to play cards with him. Shoot, he just wished Joe were anywhere.

  He went out to the hall bathroom where he washed his face and combed his hair, then headed out the front door. Although his room was muggy enough, he halfway expected to step out into a cool evening breeze, but it was just as hot at eight o’clock as it had been at three. This would take some getting used to. He walked slow—like the locals did—recognizing the wisdom of it in a place where he almost thought he could grab ahold of the air and wring water from it. He marveled that the sidewalk was dry beneath his feet.

  Not certain of where to go, Judd set off in the general direction of the ocean without thinking about it. After a few blocks, he realized he could see lights and hear music down there somewhere. It offered a sort of siren song that he resisted at first. But why? Why resist? He tucked his hands in his pockets and ambled on toward the glow and what he imagined was the sound of breakers against the beach.

  The first thing he saw was the top of a Ferris wheel turning against the sky. There was also a merry-go-round and a handful of other rides. Judd had seen a traveling circus a time or two, but this was something else altogether—fancier. Across the street was a massive building with an arched roof that said Pavilion—the music seemed to be coming from there. Judd felt flustered by all the noise and lights. This was a long way from an evening stroll down a country lane. And the people—they were everywhere.

  Drifting with the crowd, Judd thought to make his way through the chaos and maybe see if he could access the beach beyond. He could smell hot dogs, cotton candy, and salt air with an undercurrent of . . . perfume maybe. It was a heady mix. He shoved his hands in his pockets and moseyed, noticing he was one of the few men with long pants and socks on. His mother would have a fit if she could see all these young men clomping around sockless in their good shoes.

  A cool hand slipped inside Judd’s elbow, and he nearly hollered. He got a grip on himself before he threw the offender to the ground and was almighty glad he did. It was Larkin smiling up at him, lips pink, cheeks rosy, and auburn hair tousled by the breeze.

  “You keep turning up everywhere I go.”

  Judd smiled at the pretty girl and noticed two more pretty girls with her. What was it about South Carolina and women with soft skin and sparkling eyes? Maybe it was just the heat and how they tended to have more skin showing. He tried to steer his thoughts back into safer waters.

  “Just out for my evening constitutional.”

  Judd’s comment seemed to tickle Larkin’s funny bone. She laughed, leaning into his side. “Well, we’re on our way to the Pavilion to dance. Why don’t you come with us? I’ll teach you to shag.”

  “I’m not much for dancing.”

  Larkin took notice of Judd’s limp. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is your leg . . . will it . . . did you get hurt?”

  “Mine cave-in.” Judd tried to even out his gait.

  Larkin’s free hand flew to her mouth, and the other two girls suddenly began hovering around him like mosquitoes. They lobbed questions at him until he felt dizzy but never waited on him to answer.

  “I’m fine. It’s fine. You ladies go on and enjoy your dancing.”

  Larkin flicked a look at the building where they could see dancers gliding around inside. The look on her face was one of pure longing. “You girls go ahead. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

  Judd found himself passing the Pavilion and coming out on a boardwalk on the ocean side with Larkin’s fingers still tucked in at his elbow. How was it that her hand felt cool in this heat?

  “You should go on and dance. I get the feeling you want to.”

  Larkin sighed and leaned on the railing, looking out over the beach and the surf beyond. Families had mostly given way to couples strolling hand in hand or sitting near the dunes, tucked in close to one another.

  “I do enjoy dancing ever so much, but I can’t abandon you on your first night in town.”

  “Aww, I was just out getting the lay of the land. I aimed to head on back once I hit the ocean.”

  Larkin giggled. “I like the way you talk.”

  Judd felt his ears get hot and turned his face toward the breeze coming off the ocean. “Does it ever cool off around here?”

  “Sure—wait until December and January—you’ll need a coat.”

  Judd swallowed a laugh. “I’ll be looking forward to that.”

  “So you plan to stay here?”

  Judd blew air. “For now. My plans aren’t too definite at the moment.”

  “Oh. Well, I have plans.” Larkin stuck her pert chin up in the air.

  “What would that be?”

  “I want to help people—like my brother does. He gave up everything to become a missionary. Daddy was pretty mad, but I’m proud of him.” She looked almost smug as she said it. She slid a glance his direction. “West Virginia is supposed to have lots of people who need help.”

  Judd couldn’t think what she was getting at. “We mostly take care of our own.”

  “But Appalachia is such a poor, backwards place. You hear about hillbillies and barefooted children who leave school before the eighth grade—things like that. I want to help.”

  “Not sure where you’re hearing that sort of thing. I suppose there are always folks in need, but no more than anywhere else.”

  “Well, I read an article in Ladies’ Journal that says the Appalachian Mountains with their coal-mining communities, rough country, poor roads, and lack of education is an area of greatest need in the United States.”

  It sounded like she was quoting her blasted article. Judd gripped the railing in front of him and debated whether or not he wanted to make her mad. He tried to think what Joe, who always got along with everybody, would do. He finally decided it didn’t matter since he wasn’t Joe.

  “Well if it’s written down in the Ladies’ Journal, it must be true,” he said.

  Larkin narrowed her eyes at him, apparently deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, and smiled. “Exactly. So my plans are to go to Kentucky or West Virgi
nia and help people.”

  Judd almost snorted, but managed to cough instead. “That so? Reckon they’ll be glad to see you.”

  Larkin turned toward him and grasped his arm. “And now that I know you, you can tell me where to go and who needs help. You’re an insider.”

  “That I am.” Judd thought about being buried inside a mountain. “That I am.”

  “So you’ll help me?” She looked at him with soft lips parted, eyes dancing with her plans to change the world.

  “Nope.”

  Her face fell and she looked astonished. “What?”

  “Don’t look to me to help you. I left for a reason. If you want to go make the world a better place, more power to you. Me, I’m going back to my room and getting a good night’s sleep so I can do the work your father is paying me for come Monday.”

  He walked away, not even caring if his limp showed. He didn’t need anyone’s pity or help. Least of all a pampered Southern girl who didn’t even know the half of his story or the story of his people back home in poor, backwards West Virginia.

  Chapter

  5

  Well.

  Larkin watched Judd limp away for a minute, then spun on her heel and almost jogged toward the Pavilion. She’d never told anyone about her dream to make a difference in the mountains of Appalachia—to follow in her brother’s footsteps by helping people—and now that she had she was sorry. She’d been so sure Judd would not only understand but be excited to help her. They were his own people, for goodness’ sake.

  Inside the Pavilion, she caught a glimpse of Nell dancing with Leon, who couldn’t do the Carolina shag for spit but seemed game to try, so long as Nell was his partner. Patty waved to her from the edge of the crowd, and Larkin hurried to join her.

  “Did you get rid of your hillbilly friend? He’s handsome enough, but he doesn’t quite fit in around here, does he?”

  Larkin bristled, though she couldn’t say exactly why. “It’s his first day in town. He probably just needs time to adjust.”

  “But he’s a coal miner and probably never even finished high school.” Patty tossed her sleek, dark hair over her shoulder. “There’s adjusting and then there’s changing your spots.”

  “He could’ve been to college for all you know.” Why was she defending him after he scoffed at her?

  Patty laughed. “Sure. And when Wayne Gragg gets over here, he’s going to ask me to dance instead of you.”

  Larkin turned to see Wayne weaving through the crowd in their direction. Normally, she’d be delighted to see him. Handsome and with the proper pedigree, her parents had none too subtly encouraged her to see more of him. And she didn’t mind most of the time. He was an excellent dancer, was about to finish college with a business degree, and clearly liked her. Although she had a notion he liked other girls, too, and hadn’t quite made his mind up about whom he’d settle on. But seeing him walk toward her on this sultry August evening, what she mostly felt was . . . tired.

  “There’s my best girl. What say we hit the dance floor?”

  Larkin pasted on a smile and grabbed Wayne’s hand to lead him out as “Sh-Boom” began playing. Larkin tried to focus on the music and forget about the tall, sad man from the mountains who scorned her dream. How could she even think about poor, uneducated children in West Virginia when she could be here, dancing with a handsome guy, breathing salt air, and feeling admiring gazes from around the floor? She put an extra swish in her hips as they danced and was rewarded with a wink from Wayne.

  The song ended, and Larkin paused to get her breath. She could feel sweat trickling down her spine but didn’t care. Everyone was hot and sticky on a night like this. The band switched gears and started “Stranger in Paradise.” Wayne drew her closer without asking and began to slow-dance.

  Larkin would have preferred to sit this one out with a cold soda, but she didn’t protest. Wayne’s hands were hot on the small of her back, and she could feel the sweat on his neck where she clasped her own hands. As Wayne leaned in, Larkin shifted her gaze to the boardwalk so he had no choice but to brush his lips against her temple. She’d let Wayne kiss her once before, but this was not the time or place for that. She let him pull her even closer as a sort of consolation for not kissing him, yet his presence was beginning to feel stifling. She listened to Tony Bennett sing.

  “‘Won’t you answer this fervent prayer of a stranger in paradise?’”

  Larkin gritted her teeth. Poor Judd. Here he was, far from home in a place that must seem exotic to him. And what did he have to look forward to? Slaving away in a pine plantation for her father. There’d be red bugs and snakes and the ever-present heat. Larkin’s taste for dancing faded along with the final notes of the song.

  “Wayne, I’m getting the worst headache. I think I’m going to have to call it a night.” She drew back, but he held on to one hand.

  “Aw, c’mon. All you need is a soda and the ocean breeze out on the boardwalk.” He tugged at her hand. “I’ll grab some drinks and we can go for a stroll.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Larkin felt something like distaste.

  Ducking her chin, Larkin poured on the syrup. “Darlin’, I just don’t think I can manage it this evening. You are too sweet to want to take care of me, but you go on and have a good time.” Patty approached them like she’d been cued. Larkin grabbed her friend’s arm. “Patty’s just dying for a dance partner and you are the very best. You go on and dance with her. You can even drive her home. I’ll be grateful for absolutely ever.”

  She batted her eyelashes at Wayne as she spoke to Patty. “I’ve got the worst sick headache and I’ve just got to go on home. Wayne’s going to take good care of you.” She tucked her friend’s arm through Wayne’s as the next song started. “Y’all go on now. Don’t let me down.”

  Patty, clearly delighted, pulled Wayne back onto the dance floor. Larkin backed away and gave them both a little wave. Wayne looked confused but he’d be fine. They’d both be fine. And now that she was free, Larkin realized she really did have a headache. Maybe she’d drive around a while with the top down and see if she couldn’t blow this whole evening right out of her mind.

  Judd woke Monday morning in a puddle of his own sweat. He’d slept badly since arriving, waking throughout the night, feeling almost like he was drowning in the thick, humid air. When Joe dreamed about heading for South Carolina, he clearly had no idea what he was in for. He levered himself to his feet and staggered to the bathroom where he washed his face, brushed his teeth, and braced himself for the day ahead.

  Outside, Judd sat on the top porch step squinting at the new day. What he wouldn’t give for a plate of fried eggs and sausage with a couple of biscuits. He’d stopped at a small grocery store on Saturday and bought a few items to tide him over until payday. For breakfast he’d made do with a can of fruit cocktail and some bread with peanut butter. A lunch sack sat next to him with a sleeve of Saltine crackers, a can of Vienna sausages, and an apple. The thermos he’d brought from home was filled with cold water. He’d have to see about getting a hot plate if he was going to keep this up.

  Hank pulled to the curb in a beat-up 1947 Chevy truck. He honked the horn and waved Judd over. They rode, mostly in silence, to the pine plantation with the windows down. Judd marveled at how even the breeze was warm.

  As they pulled up to the work site, men were already laboring, circles of perspiration darkening their shirts in spite of the early hour. Hank pointed to an area where logs were being loaded onto trucks with a boom. “That’s where you’ll get started. Chuck Hardee—he’s the one with the hat—will show you what to do. You can leave your gear in the truck.”

  Judd grunted, stowed his provisions under the seat, and walked over to the loading area while doing his best to hide his limp. He filled his lungs. It was almighty hot, but at least he could see the sun and feel the limpid breeze on his cheek. He’d take this over breathing coal dust in the dark any day. He wondered for a moment if Joe ever dreamed of heading someplace cooler.

>   Chuck turned out to be a cheerful fellow who kept his men moving with a string of stories and jokes that turned the air blue. Judd shook hands all around and settled into the camaraderie of men working. Chuck encouraged him to drink plenty of water from a jug in the shade, and Judd had a notion that what he drank ran right on out of him as he helped hoist and position log after log. His boots would probably start squishing before long.

  Around noon the men seemed to instinctively know it was time to break for lunch. Everyone started drifting toward the shade where they fished out lunch sacks and boxes, sprawled out, and took their ease. Judd had never seen men work so hard and rest so thoroughly. In the mine, even when they rested, there was a tension to it. An awareness that there was a mountain hanging over their heads.

  Judd grabbed his lunch sack and settled against the tire on the shady side of Hank’s truck. Chuck moseyed over and flopped down beside him.

  “I’m thinking you might work out.”

  Judd nodded and opened his sausage tin.

  “I can tell you ain’t afraid of hard work. Hank says you was a coal miner back in West Virginia.” He laughed and took a bite of a sandwich. “I’m betting it was a mite cooler down there under the ground.”

  “It was. ’Course, being able to stand upright is its own reward.”

  Chuck slapped his thigh. “Son, I tell ya, I admire a man who’ll brave the bowels of the earth, but me, I gotta have open space.” He waved an arm indicating the trees and land around them. “But not working a-tall is my long-term goal.”

  Judd smiled. He liked Chuck—he reminded him a little of Harry. “You been doing this long?”

  “Too long, but it pays the bills and keeps me out of the wife’s hair.” He peeled back the bread from his sandwich and looked inside. “If only she could cook.”

  Judd took a look and couldn’t see much of anything between the slices of bread. “What kind of sandwich is that?”