Рита Браун - Tail Gait

“Olivia”—Susan paused—“Frank lives on the Downtown Mall.”

“What!”

“He does. Ned has the sheriff’s department pick him up and put him in the Salvation Army shelter during the winters. He’s a total drunk.”

“My God!” Olivia’s hand flew to her heart. “He was beautiful, you know. He could have gone into the pros. I had no idea.”

That was obvious.

“I don’t think your mother knows how far he has fallen,” Harry said.

“I swear some people are born self-destructive,” said Susan. “Frank is one of them. Ned does what he can. His fear is one of those damned reality shows will dig him up. From All-American to Bowery Bum, or something like that. Frank will start raving. People would eat that up. How the mighty have fallen. That sort of thing.” Susan’s lip curled.

“On the mall?” Olivia half whispered, horrified as it sunk in.

Harry frowned as she recalled. “The only two times that anyone could cite where your father endured people’s anger was during the revival of the Jefferson-Hemings controversy and Frank’s bitter lost love, I guess that’s what you’d call it. But Fair says that Frank even drank back when he was on the team. He heard it from older football players.”

“Yes, Officer Cooper brought up the Hemings affair,” said Olivia. “All water over the dam. No one even then threatened to kill Dad.”

“Do you think Frank might’ve threatened your father?”

Her blue eyes widened. “Daddy never told me.” She paused. “But then he never told me anything. He thought he was protecting me, and he was. Once I got over hating him for breaking us up, I realized that.”

—

Driving to Susan’s to drop her off, Harry inquired, “You don’t think Olivia will do anything stupid, do you?”

“Like what?”

“Like go down to the mall and see Frank.”

Susan gasped. “Harry, don’t even think that!”

One Hour Later

Debating what to do, Harry pulled her old truck into Susan’s driveway. After they unloaded the four dwarf crepe myrtles next to the garage, Harry opened the front door and called for Tucker, who had been left behind at Susan’s to play with her brother.

“Where are we going?” Tucker asked, happy to be outside.

“In the truck, kid.” She lifted the solid corgi onto Susan’s lap. “I’ll get Owen.”

Driving out the curving driveway, Tucker sat between the two women while her brother Owen sat in Susan’s lap.

“You make me crazy,” said Susan.

“Ditto.”

“Well, why did you have to say anything about Olivia going to the mall?”

“It popped into my head, Susan. I’ve explained myself all the way down Route Two-fifty. I’m not going to explain myself all the way back. It just popped into my head, and I got a funny feeling.”

“Well, now I do too. She was shocked, and, well…”

“She has diminished judgment. Death, divorce, even losing your job causes such turmoil. Diminished judgment can last as long as the loss or sorrow. At least that’s what I’ve observed.”

“Yes,” Susan tersely replied.

Neither spoke until they reached the Charlottesville Downtown Mall. Once the hub of economic activity, Main Street was blocked off to through traffic in 1976, creating a walking mall. Harry’s mother had a fit because, she declared, they could walk just fine when there were cars and sidewalks. When the anchor to this scheme—the large department store, Miller & Rhoads—left, activity sagged, and with it, profits. Over time, nice restaurants took over old spaces, the Paramount Theater was restored, specialty shops opened. Much had improved, but like all those revitalization ideas, the city planners rarely took into account how people really shop. At least there was still a large hotel at the western end, the Omni.

Harry pulled her truck into the parking garage at the eastern end, circling upward until she found a space big enough to park the 1978 Ford F-150. She and Susan hopped out, lifted out their corgis, snapped on the dogs’ leashes. The concrete stairwell’s heavy walls amplified their steps.

“I don’t know why I do things with you,” said Susan. “All you do is get me into trouble.”

“Oh, spare me, Sissy Tolerance! You get me in as much trouble as I get you. Now, where do you think the drunks are on this beautiful spring day?”

“Down by the Paramount, I guess.”

They headed to what people thought of as the center of the mall, passing storefront shops, displays in the large windows. As they reached the Paramount, they heard a scream.

“Don’t touch me!” they heard Olivia’s voice holler, then saw her backing away from a man at one of the large planters filled with blooms.

“Let’s go!” Tucker gave a hard yank on her leash. She flew across the brick walkway.

“Tucker!” Harry yelled.

Owen also broke free from Susan. The two dogs and two women ran toward Olivia. Tucker reached her first and spun around, facing the man advancing on her. “Touch her and you die!”

Bloodshot eyes looked down at the corgi as Owen reached the scene. He bared his fangs. Olivia, startled by the shocked reaction of Frank Cresey when he saw her, was now startled and gratified by her two protectors. Harry and Susan reached Olivia as a small crowd of people gathered around.

“What are you doing here?” growled Frank. He wore tattered clothing, had long, unkempt hair. His beautiful body was now wasted and thin.

“Come on, Olivia, let’s go.” Harry put her arm through Olivia’s.

Susan was trying not to breathe, as Frank reeked of sweat, alcohol, and urine. She inserted herself between Olivia and Frank, as did the two dogs. “Frank, she has as much right to the mall as anyone.”

First mistake. Never try to reason with a drunk.

Frank took a step toward Susan, who held her ground, as Harry pulled the transfixed woman away. That fast, both dogs latched on to a leg. He was so loaded with alcohol, he barely felt it.

“Owen, leave him!”

With jaws clamped tightly around a thin lower leg, the corgi, not yet willing to release Frank, looked up at his human.

“I’m glad he’s dead, you know!” Frank screamed, so the retreating Olivia could hear him. “Ruined my life. I hope he died in fear and pain! You came here to pity me. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want to ever see you again. And you’ll never see your father again!”

Susan backtracked and again ordered, “Owen, Tucker, come on!”

The two dogs released Frank. Trotting to Susan, they were still looking backward, fangs bared.

A man attempted to help Frank, bleeding heavily now, to a bench on the mall. Frank backhanded the Good Samaritan. Two police officers appeared from different directions, both running. Frank howled, no words, just howled.

Harry half pulled, half dragged Olivia to Fourth Street. When she reached the corner, she pulled Olivia into Daedalus Used Books. The proprietor, Sandy McAdams, looked up just as Susan, Tucker, and Owen crossed the threshold.

“Ladies, dogs, is it literature that created such flushed cheeks?” The bearded book lover smiled.

“Oh, Sandy.” Harry caught her breath. “You don’t know how good you look!”

Before he could respond, Susan filled him in on the uproar on the mall.

“Frank Cresey,” said Sandy. “Well, well, I’m not surprised. Some days he walks into the store, sits down, and picks up a book. I give it to him just to get him out because customers can’t stand the smell. Other days when he’s clean, I let him stay. He says he was the star halfback on the 1975 UVA football team. Hard to believe.”