Copper Star Part 15

"Blackjack. What did she make you bet?"

I cringed. "Robert, please stop shouting at me." I tried to sit up in bed, hands holding my throbbing head. "She said something about playing the piano on bridges." I tried to get up, but if I moved, my head pounded like someone was beating it with a drum.

"Louisa, you've been had by a card shark."

"What does that mean?"

"Ada cornered you into playing the piano at her bridge parties. It's a card game for the socialite set."

"You could have warned me. She seemed like such a nice lady."

"I did! The day she first arrived I said to be careful of her."

"But you didn't say what to be careful of. You never said anything about Blackjack and Ouzo. I'm not blaming you. Good heavens, I'm a grown woman. I'm a Resistance Worker. I have no one to blame but myself." I was thoroughly disgusted with myself.

"She's pretty smooth. I've been a victim of her charms myself." He went over to open the curtain, letting the merciless suns.h.i.+ne in, piercing my eyes with pain.

Wincing, I asked, "What did she get out of you?"

"Preaching. Two sermons a day for a week at her church's revival meeting. Under a tent. In Phoenix. In August. No air conditioning." He shuddered at the memory. "Drink up. She's almost ready to leave so you'll need to come downstairs as soon as you can."

I scowled at him which only got him laughing. His face was annoyingly bright with good humor. "Hurry up, she's waiting for you," he said. He stopped when he got to the door and turned toward me with a wicked grin. "Such a pity. Who would've thought? A Resistance Worker, succ.u.mbing to the oldest trick in the book. You're losing your edge, Lulu."

My sentiments precisely.

I took a shower, dressing slowly so that my head wouldn't explode, and then went downstairs. Robert's concoction, whatever it was, did help settle my stomach. A little, anyway. As I stepped into the kitchen, Ada rushed over to me with open arms. "There's my darling Lulu!" She was apparently unfazed by the Ouzo.

Miss Gordon's eyes swept over me. "What's wrong with you? You look like death warmed over."

"She's got a touch of the flu," Robert offered quickly.

Miss Gordon eyed him carefully then whipped around to look over at the kitchen sink. There lay a broken egg sh.e.l.l, a can of tomato juice, vegetable oil, and some hot pepper sauce. She spun on her heels to Ada. "A touch of the flu, my foot! Ada! What did you do to that girl?"

"Nothing, Marty Girl. Nothing at all!" Ada smiled the sweetest smile, gave everyone enormous hugs that left us reeking of heavy rose perfume, and swept out to the Hudson. Dragging her heavy suitcases, Robert followed behind to take her back to the train station in Tucson.

Miss Gordon watched Robert load up the car with Ada's behemoth suitcases. There wasn't even room for William to tag along. "I'd like to give that woman a dressing down," she muttered under her breath. Then she turned to me, with ever so slight a hint of sympathy in her voice. "Louisa, I blame myself. I should've warned you. That woman can't be trusted. Given a bottle of Ouzo, she could charm the spots off a leopard."

That remark got me wondering if, like Robert, she had once been the unfortunate victim of Ada's gambling savvy, but I doubted I would ever be privy to that story. I looked out the kitchen window as I saw the Hudson pull out of the driveway, Ada chattering away to her captive chauffeur. Dog followed the car down the street, barking angrily, grievously insulted, anxious to get the last word in at Ada's visiting feline.

"Louisa, I've been thinking. Since you've got your heart set on it, I suppose you could teach piano an afternoon or two here at the house."

I turned around and looked back at her, astonished.

"Well, Mrs. Wondolowski has been badgering me to have you teach her son, Arthur. I suppose it wouldn't really hurt the church's image to have the parsonage be used for a commercial enterprise," she grudgingly conceded.

I smiled, feeling cheered, and went over and gave her a big hug, not caring if she liked it or not.

Chapter Ten.

With the blessing of Miss Gordon, my piano teaching career began. Two afternoons a week, I taught a few neighborhood children the fundamentals of piano.

And in the nightstand next to my bed was a drawer, my version of a bank account, collecting money for my return trip to Germany. Miss Gordon called it a "saving my bacon" drawer. I suppose I could've opened a bank account at Mueller's bank, but I wanted no interest from Herr Mueller, financially or otherwise.

"Can you imagine?" I said to Robert one morning at breakfast, pointing to the front page of the newspaper. After a three year blockade, the Russian city of Leningrad was finally freed from the Germans. "Nine hundred days under siege! The Germans couldn't overtake them because their resistance was so strong. It says that the Russian people carried on with their life, attended school, and took exams, even though they experienced daily bombings. The death toll had reached over 600,000 people...starved or killed. So immeasurably sad. But they did it! They beat back the n.a.z.is."

I inhaled a deep sigh of satisfaction, a.s.sured that Allied victory was just around the corner.

Long after midnight one night came a knock at the door. I heard Robert go downstairs to answer it so I rolled over to fall back to sleep. A minute or so later, he rapped on my door and opened it. "Louisa, come downstairs. There's someone here for you."

I threw on my bathrobe and went down to the parlor. There on the davenport sat a woeful young woman, bruised and bleeding, eyes cast downward.

"Glenda?" I asked. "What's happened to you?" I rushed to her side and pushed her hair back from her face to examine her bruises. "Robert, please get me some hot water and clean cloths. Bandages and peroxide, too." I turned back to Glenda. "Do you need a doctor?"

She shook her head. "No, don't call no doctor. I just can't go back there no more."

Robert brought me the supplies to clean her up.

I looked at him and said, "You can go back to bed. I'll explain more to you in the morning."

"Sure you don't need help?" he asked, concerned.

"No, thank you."

As he headed back up the stairs, Miss Gordon stood at the top, arms crossed like a general facing battle. Robert cut her off before she started on a tirade. "Tomorrow. We'll talk about it tomorrow. Go back to bed, Aunt Martha."

She turned and firmly shut her bedroom door.

I bathed Glenda's bruises and cuts, swabbed peroxide onto the swelling lesions, bandaged her as best I could, and gave her some aspirin for the pain. "You're safe here," I said, as I settled her in for the night in my bedroom.

In the morning, I woke to hear a loud whisper in the kitchen. It sounded like the buzzing of an angry bee. Still sleepy, I walked into the kitchen and saw Robert and a dour looking Miss Gordon. Conversation ceased as I walked in. I filled up a coffee cup, sipped it, and braced myself for Miss Gordon. As if on cue, she launched a verbal blitz.

"Was that you sleeping out there on that sofa? I thought it was that girl. Do you mean to tell me that you gave up your bed for a common harlot?"

"She needed to rest. She's badly hurt. I knew you and Robert would be up early. I didn't want you to awaken her."

"Louisa, where did you meet her?" Robert asked.

I took a sip of coffee. "In the library. When William and I would be in the children's department, I often saw her over in a corner. Her name is Glenda. She's been trying to teach herself to read. That's how we became acquainted. I've been helping her learn."

"And you haven't said a word? How long has this been going on?" asked Miss Gordon.

"A few months."

"You've exposed William to that girl!" she accused.

"But it's not like that. She's trying hard to make a change. Sometimes people end up in circ.u.mstances that they'd never dream they'd be in. I'm only trying to help her." I put down my coffee cup on the counter.

"There's not a circ.u.mstance sorry enough on this earth to make someone become a prost.i.tute," she said with a scornful air. "A girl goes that way because she's a bad apple to start with. And now you've sullied the Gordon name by bringing her into this house! A minister's home! Of all places."

She narrowed her eyes and began her final attack. "Louisa, you are the very soul of aggravation! I have put up with a dog, and I have put up with notes stuck all over this house, and I have put up with a permanent houseguest, but this is the last straw. Either that girl goes or I go. Today!" Her nostrils flared in outrage.

I took a deep breath. Lord, give me patience! "I'm sorry. I'll make other arrangements for Glenda. Today." I slipped out the backdoor.

Robert followed behind me, carrying my coffee cup. "Wait, Louisa! Where are you going?"

"Just to take a walk. Please leave me be." I kept walking.

"I really wouldn't do that if I were you," he called out with authority.

I stopped and turned slightly. "And why not?" I snapped, not interested in hearing another Gordon opinion.

"Because you're wearing your bathrobe. And you're barefoot."

I slumped my shoulders and turned back to go to the house.

"Come sit down on the steps with me for a minute."

He handed me the coffee cup as I sat down next to him. The contrast of its warmth felt soothing in my hands as the crisp morning air surrounded us.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Louisa. Just the opposite. You saw a woman trying to better herself, and you've tried to help her."

"I never dreamed she would come here in the night, Robert."

"She must trust you. She probably doesn't have anyone else she can count on."

"I'm sorry about your aunt." I rolled my eyes.

"Well, we could have guessed her reaction."

"That's why I never mentioned Glenda! I knew she would chew my head off."

"Bite your head off," he corrected, trying to hold back a grin. "And she sure did."

I frowned at him. That's exactly why I didn't adopt American expressions. I always got them wrong. "Glenda is going to need someone to take care of her for a while. Someone treated her terribly."

"Mick," he guessed, frowning. Mick Hills ran the Tavern where Glenda worked. "He's got a reputation for a fiery temper."

I looked into my coffee cup and said, more to myself than to Robert, "What am I going to do with her?"

"We'll figure something out," he said. He jumped up and looked down at me. "You know, I just might have an idea. When Glenda wakes up, have her try to eat something, and clean her up as best as you can. Loan her some fresh clothes. I might have just a place for her."

"Why? What are you thinking?"

He wouldn't answer. He took my coffee cup and finished off the last few sips, handed it back to me, smiled, told me not to worry, jumped into the Hudson and backed out of the driveway.

After watching him drive down the street, I slowly turned to go back to the kitchen, steeling myself for another encounter with Miss Gordon.

She was so disgusted with having a girl like Glenda in the house that she woke William up and took him on errands, just so he wouldn't be "further corrupted by Glenda's influence." Amazingly, she even took Dog with her, to keep Dog uncorrupted, as well, I suppose.

I did exactly as Robert asked and helped get Glenda dressed in one of my skirts and blouses. Her eyes looked so beaten down. She did everything I asked, just like a little child.

An hour or so later, Robert pulled into the driveway. He popped into the kitchen and asked if Glenda was ready to go. "You'd better come, too, Louisa." We put Glenda in the backseat. As we drove down the street, we pa.s.sed Herr Mueller standing in front of his bank. He stopped and stared at us as we drove past him. His stare made me shudder. Robert would say I was just being paranoid, but Herr Mueller always seemed to be watching me.

"Glenda, we're taking you to a woman named Betty Drummond. She lives alone on a little farm, way out of town. Her grandmother died recently, and Betty's been lonesome. She's good at nursing, too. Nursed her grandmother for years. I went to talk to her this morning, and she agreed to take care of you, at least until you're back on your feet. Does that sound fine to you?"

Glenda nodded. "But I ain't ever goin' back to Mick's. I'm done."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Robert said. "We'll help you figure out what to do when you're mended."

When we reached Betty's home, she had already made up the guestroom for Glenda and put flowers from the garden by the bedside. "n.o.body's done such nice things for me before. I thank you," she said, climbing into bed.

"You're safe now, Glenda. No one can hurt you out here," Robert said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to say a prayer before we go."

Glenda looked away. I put a hand on her shoulder as Robert bowed his head, not waiting for her answer. "Lord, please heal Glenda's body and her spirit. We ask you to bless Betty, too, for being so gracious as to take care of Glenda. We know you love Glenda, Lord, for you brought friends to her to take care of her. We pray for your protection over her, and for justice to be delivered to the person who harmed her. Amen." Then he added, "Glenda, Louisa and I will come out now and then to check on you."

One little teardrop escaped and rolled down her cheek before she wiped it away.

Downstairs, I handed Betty a bag. "I brought some books for Glenda. She's just learning to read. She's smart, too. She's already on first grade readers. I thought you might be able to help her, if you have a free minute."

From the look on Betty's face, I wasn't sure who was going to benefit more-Glenda from Betty's care or Betty, from having someone to fuss over.

On the car ride home I looked over at Robert and smiled at him. "Nice work, Reverend."

He glanced back at me with a shy grin. "Well, Betty could use a little extra cash right now. The church has a budget to pay for emergencies like this."

I knew the church didn't have any such emergency fund. I knew Robert would be paying Betty out of his own modest salary.

After dinner that evening, Mick Hills came to our door. Miss Gordon opened it and nearly suffered heart failure. She sent Mick over to Robert's office. Back she marched into the kitchen, grumbling loudly with a resentful toss of her head in my direction, "twice in one day. I start the day with a prost.i.tute and end the day with a panderer. That's a fine kettle of fish."

I darted out of the kitchen, hoping to avoid hearing another diatribe about how I had further sullied the fine Gordon name.

A while later, I heard Robert come in through the kitchen door. I ran downstairs to meet him. "What did he want? Why did he come to see you?"

"Where's Aunt Martha?" he asked, glancing around for her.

"She went up to bed with a headache."

Robert sat down at the kitchen table and pulled a seat out for me. "He said Glenda has talked about you at the tavern. He took a guess that she came here."

"He doesn't know where she is now, though, does he?"