Lee Martin - Late One Night

“My girl.” Ronnie started in with an explanation. “She didn’t come home. I didn’t know what to do.” He knew he was talking too fast. “Then today I started out, and, well, you probably know about the fire. My wife. Three of my kids. Well, mister, it’s just been an unusual time for me. Otherwise, I’d of been here when I was supposed to. The truth is, mister, I need this job.”

“I know about your trouble.” The plant manager shook his head in sympathy. “Jesus, yes. But, Ronnie, I had trucks needed unloading, and I had to get another man in that warehouse.”

Ronnie looked the man in the eye, gave him a chance to change his mind. They were in his crow’s nest office, high above the factory floor where row after row of women had their backs curved over sewing machines. Even through the window glass, Ronnie could hear the angry buzz of all those machines.

“So that’s the way it is?” he finally said.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a damned thing to offer you now.”

Ronnie hadn’t gone home. He hadn’t wanted to face Brandi and tell her he’d lost out on that job, and he didn’t for the life of him know what he’d say to her about Biggs sticking his nose into things and where that might be heading. He’d driven around until he’d found the Kozy Kiln, and he thought he’d just hunker down there for a while. It wasn’t until it was too late that he realized he’d forgotten all about picking up Sarah and Emma from school, and the fact of his neglect sent him into such a funk that he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to face anyone ever again.

The phone was ringing behind the bar. Ronnie saw the waitress pick it up, and as she talked — he couldn’t hear what she was saying — he noticed that she kept looking over to where he was sitting. She nodded her head. Soon she put the handset down on the bar and made her away across the room to his table.

“Darlin’, are you Ronnie Black?”

“Who wants to know?”

She nodded over her shoulder to the phone lying on the bar. “You got people looking for you.”

Missy pulled her van into Brandi’s driveway and tooted the horn. She waited a few seconds and then saw little Emma at the front window, peeking out between the drapes. Missy waved, which seemed to startle her, because in a flash Emma was gone. Missy honked the horn again, and after a while Angel came out the front door and down the steps. Missy reached over and opened the passenger door for her.

“What’s keeping your sisters?” she said.

“They’re not coming.” Angel got in and slammed the door. “Brandi’s out looking for Dad.”

“Who’s looking after you all?”

“Hannah’s in there with Sarah and Emma.”

Missy looked out at the soft glow of light in the front room window. “So it’s just you and me for 4-H tonight?”

Angel shook her head. “We’re not supposed to. Brandi doesn’t like it that you gave me that iPod.”

“What did she say?

“She wanted to know if Dad knew about it. Then later she said I wasn’t to go to 4-H.”

Missy was disappointed, but more than that she was worried about the girls being alone. “Where’s your dad?”

“No one knows. He didn’t come home.” Angel’s coat was unzipped and she flicked at the zipper tab with her finger. Finally, she stopped fidgeting, and for the first time since she’d gotten into the van she looked fully at Missy and she said in a soft voice, “I think I know why. He’s done something wrong.”

Missy braced herself. Here it is, she thought. The hard thing. “Honey, you’re going to hear some things about your father. Some horrible things.”

Angel didn’t hesitate. “I already know he was at the trailer that night.”

Missy was doing her best not to poison Ronnie for Angel. “No one’s guilty until it’s proven,” she said.

Angel was quiet for some time. She turned away from Missy and kept looking out the passenger-side window of the van. The heater fan blew out hot air. The digital clock pulsed to another minute.

Then Angel said, “I can prove it. I know what happened. I found his knife in the snow behind the trailer.”

“His knife?” Missy reached over and took Angel’s hand. “Honey, he could have dropped it there anytime.”

Angel shook her head. “He was there that night. Mr. Rowe saw him.”

“He told you that?” Missy’s mind was racing. If that knife was proof of what Shooter claimed, that he’d seen Ronnie come out from behind the trailer that night, what else might there be waiting to be proven? She squeezed Angel’s hand. “Honey, I’m right here. Don’t be afraid.”

“But what if he tries to hurt me? What if he tries to hurt all of us?”

Missy leaned over and gathered Angel up into her arms. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” She rocked her back and forth. She said, “Shh, shh, honey. Nothing bad can happen. You’re with me now.”

She took Angel into the house and made sure the girls were all right. Emma was trying to spread jelly on a piece of toast. Sarah was standing on her head, her feet up against the living room wall. Hannah was in her room doing homework.

Missy called Laverne Ott, the assistant 4-H leader, and asked her to go ahead and start the meeting without her. She had something to attend to.

The girls hadn’t eaten, so she found some ground beef in the fridge and a can of peas in the cupboard. She looked in the freezer and pulled out a bag of French fries.

“Burgers and fries?” she asked, and that was enough to get Sarah to stop standing on her head and Emma to jump up and down and Hannah to come out of her room. “And peas,” Missy said.

“No peas,” said Sarah. “Peas make me gag.”

“If you want fries, you’ve got to eat your peas.” Missy tapped her finger on Sarah’s nose. “Just pretend they’re candy, and you’ll do fine.”

After supper was done, and Missy was drying the last of the dishes, she heard the front door open, and there was Brandi. The girls were in their rooms doing their homework.

Missy came right to the point. “Do you know what he’s done? Ronnie? How can you be with him?” She’d never said the word before, but she said it now. “A murderer. How can you think he’d be a good father to these girls?”

“None of this is your business,” Brandi said.

But Missy wouldn’t stop. She told Brandi about Shooter’s claim that Ronnie had started the fire. She said Angel had told her about finding his knife in the snow.

Brandi couldn’t bear to hear it. She couldn’t stand to think that he was capable of what people were saying he’d done.

“I don’t want to hear that.” Her voice was trembling. She saw Missy’s coat draped over the arm of the couch. She picked it up and threw it at her. “You’ve got it in for Ronnie and me. That’s plain. Get out of my house. I don’t want you here.”

Missy was calm. She put her on coat and took the time to button it. At the front door, she turned back to Brandi. “I’m going to Sheriff Biggs with this,” she said. “You tell Ronnie he better get a lawyer.”

When she left Brandi’s house, Missy drove to Lois and Wayne’s, and there in the dimly lit living room she told Lois that, as much as it broke her heart to say it, facts were pointing to the possibility that all the rumors were true: Ronnie had started that fire.

“I don’t think the girls should be in that house with him,” she said. “Who knows what else he might do.”

“Oh, Lord,” said Lois. “My grandbabies. It’s just about all I can do to look after Wayne now.”

Wayne was in bed, sick again with the spins, but he could hear Missy and Lois talking in the living room. He said, “I don’t want to lose them to foster care. Missy, come back here.”