Chapter 5: “How much do they know?”
The black slowly faded to normal and the pancake makeup completely concealed the remaining bruises.
What a relief to walk down the streets and look into the eyes of friends without having to respond to “What happened to you?”
Everyone got the same answer: “I had a little accident,” which seemed to be sufficient to satisfy their curiosity.
I wondered: “How much do they know?” Like most small towns, our community was fertile ground for gossip. I’d find myself searching the faces of my friends to see if they were sincerely concerned or just curious.
I shuddered at the thought of Bob’s mother passing the information on to him. Her demeanor made it difficult for me to approach her casually. The product of a wealthy family, — she carried herself with great dignity and, at one point, confided in Bob that she thought that I was conceited. I was shy, not conceited, and hoped to work on the problem and ease into a friendship with her before Bob came home.
There had been no word from Bob since he left for camp. Twice a day I walked over to the post office to check my box and twice a day I was disappointed. Finally, after two weeks, the mailman called me from the post office.
“You have a post card from Bob,” he exclaimed. “Want me to read it to you?”
“No need to read it to me, Herbie. I’ll be right down to pick it up…. and thanks for calling.” I hadn’t been this excited since Bob took me to dinner.
Did all the mail clerks read everyone’s mail? I’d have to remind Bob to use envelopes to maintain a small degree of privacy from the town.
The post card didn’t say much. He was stationed in North Carolina….very busy all day long and glad to hit the sack early…. so he could make reveille in the morning and do it all over again.
more of Chapter 5 tomorrow
