Chapter 9
Ellis followed behind Sara and Stan as they approached an old wooden picnic table at the center of a small park.
They had swung by Melba’s to prepare lunch, and Ellis paid careful attention to Sara while there. She seemed happy with Stan around, more genuine, but never once did he see a hint of attraction in her body language. This excited Ellis more than he would ever, or could ever, say with Stan around. He also noted that with Stan present there were no hesitations in Sara’s speech, no mysterious awkward pauses. She was obviously very comfortable around him. Truth was, Ellis would have rather had lunch with Sara alone, but at least he could see her in her own element—1841 attire aside.
“Drink?”
“Yeah, I’ll take a pop,” Ellis answered, taking the green can that Stan angled toward him.
“Our new friend is from over the soda pop border, apparently,” Stan said mockingly. “I met your kind in Cincinnati. Around here, we call it soda.”
Ellis forced a smile as he opened the can. He still felt unease at the lingering expectation that he was to merely be Sara’s friend, despite wanting more. This was the lie Ellis promised after all and one he did not intend to keep.
“So how are tunes of the nineteenth century going?” Sara asked as she opened her wrapped sandwich.
“I don’t much care for it; the crowd seems entertained, though. I tried sneaking “Piano Man” in there, but Percy yelled at me. He just couldn’t appreciate my diversity.”
“You like Billy Joel?” Ellis asked.
“I love him. Piano Man is what got me interested in playing in the first place. I love the song’s atmosphere, and when Percy gave me a shot at playing in his pub I was all over it.”
“How long have you been playing?”
Stan chewed his sandwich, mentally counting the years. “I was seven or eight, I think? I played a lot as a kid, mostly when Mom or Dad had company over, but stopped during college. I picked it up again once I got back.”
“What college courses were you taking?”
“I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life, so I took some business classes. I figured they’d come in handy one way or another, but then Dad died, and I knew Mom would need me. So I came back.”
Not knowing what else to ask, Ellis decided to go with what he and Sara had discussed earlier. “Sara tells me you met your wife there?”
“Leslie, yeah. I met her at a party. The jerk she was with thought it’d be funny to pick a fight with a freshman. He got me instead. Leslie asked me out the next day, and we were married a year later.”
Sara gave Ellis a stern glance but he ignored it.
“And where is she now?”
“I don’t know for sure. We’re having some problems, but it’s working itself out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s alright. Every marriage has problems somewhere along the way, right? I figured if I slept at Mom’s last night, gave Leslie some space, then she might calm down. I tried calling her this morning but she didn’t answer. I’ll see her tonight.”
“She’s being stupid,” Sara said vehemently.
“Hey, it’s my fault.”
“Why’s that?” Ellis asked and, again, received Sara’s stern glare for it.
Stan waited a moment before answering. “I’m not a drunk. I can control what I consume one-hundred percent. My problem is that I’m easily angered when I allow myself to drink too much. I was upset one night so I had some drinks and didn’t want to stop. We got into a fight that Arthur Harris had to break up, and I slept in a cell for a few days. She had every right to call him, and I’m glad she did. That was about a year ago; I’ve not had a drink since.”
“Congratulations on the sobriety,” Ellis responded somewhat awkwardly. Congratulating Stan on his sobriety seemed better than apologizing for his marital problems again.
“Thanks,” Stan continued, “but she still holds it against me. She brings it up every time we talk about starting a family, like I’d be an unfit father or something, and that’s just one example. I know what I did was wrong, and I’m trying to leave it in my past, but it still causes tension. That’s what caused our most recent fight anyway.”
“Did you hit her while drunk?”
“Yeah.”
Ellis knew his question was too personal the moment it left his mouth, but Stan answered it without hesitation—no excuses, no lies—and so he decided to press further, despite Sara’s apparent frustration.
“Bad?”
“Bad enough. I mean, one hit is bad enough and I offered more than one swing, let’s just say that. She didn’t have to go to the hospital or anything, but it was horrible. She wouldn’t leave me after it was all said and done, though, no matter how much I deserved it. I’m not really like that, and she knows it.”
“He got help,” Sara jumped in before Ellis could dig deeper, “and he did it of his own accord.”
“I did,” Stan said cautiously, “but it’s still in me. That’s why I’ve given up drinking; I don’t want to be tempted into that again.”
Ellis considered this and responded as honestly as he could. “I’m not condoning what you did, but the fact that you’ve recognized your problem and found help says a lot. These spurts of anger, did they happen often?”
“Only while drunk, and that wasn’t often at all. Besides a bar fight back in college, that was the first time I’d ever struck someone while impaired. It’ll be the last, too.”
The conversation had shifted into fairly awkward territory, and while Ellis was honored that Stan was so forthcoming with him, he felt ready to move on to something less personal.
“I’m sorry,” Stan finally said, setting his sandwich down and leaning back. “It’s kind of a mood killer, I know. So what about you, Ellis? Ever go to college?”
“No,” he said almost too eagerly. “I’d say that’s one of my biggest regrets to date. I keep thinking I’ll go eventually, but I just keep pushing it back. Maybe next year, we’ll see.”
“What would you go for?” Sara asked.
“Writing, obviously; but then, I’d also like to do something with kids. Not a school teacher but something.”
Sara smiled softly just as Ellis hoped she would. Most women who love kids love men who love kids, and Ellis certainly fit that bill. He smiled back, not caring what Stan thought. Stan, however, was too busy stuffing another large portion of turkey into his mouth to notice the subtle exchange. Then he choked on it for a moment as Arthur Harris surprised him with a large pat on the back.
“Sorry about that,” Arthur said with a grin. “How is everyone today? Are you keeping out of trouble, Mr. Barnes?”
Ellis simply toasted Arthur’s inquisitive eye with a can of soda.
“Good, good. Stanley Jr. here is a friend of mine. I’ve known him since he was a little boy, back when I worked for his father. The Cromwells are good people.”
“Cromwell-Acres,” Sara corrected him.
Arthur nodded with a tip of his old fashioned policeman’s cap.
“You mentioned being trained by a Stanley Sr. the other night,” Ellis said, thinking of when he had first met the police officer.
“Sure did,” Arthur said with a smile. “Not much crime here in Anderson, but I can take care of what little we have, no problem. Truth be told, I don’t think we’ve had a real exciting night since Office Clem came through here.”
“Office Clem?”
Arthur smiled, as if he were ready to tell a dandy of a story, but then he stopped and hesitantly eyed Sara and Stan.
“Oh,” he said, deflating. “Just a man who gave us a rough time—did some bad things. We got him, though. That is to say, Stanley Sr. got him.”
Ellis noted the apologetic glance that Arthur offered Sara and Stan before wishing them well and turning to go.
“What was that about? Who’s Office Clem?”
Sara and Stan looked at one another with hesitant, troubled eyes.
&nb
sp; “He was a bad man,” was all Sara offered.
Ellis sighed in the silence that followed and stood reluctantly. “I’m sorry, but this is obviously something personal. I can respect that.”
“You’re leaving?” Sara asked quietly.
“I can stay if you want me to, but I do need to meet with your mom soon. I just thought maybe you guys needed a moment or something. You look pretty shaken up.”
“No,” Sara finally said, though Stan remained silent. “It was a long time ago; I just wasn’t expecting to hear his name is all. But you should probably go.” She smiled again, hiding the emotion that was obviously welling up inside her. “You have a lot to plan for and Mom’s a busy woman. She hates waiting.”
Leaving Sara was the last thing Ellis wanted to do, but he could see the same concerned, yet distant, look in Stan’s eye, and he knew that she wasn’t alone.
“I have to obey your every command, right?”
He reached for Sara’s hand and kissed it. Then he offered his other palm to Stan. Stan gave him an uplifted eyebrow of defiance, and Sara laughed softly, which was precisely what Ellis was going for. He could see some frustration in Stan’s expression for his having just kissed Sara’s hand, but Ellis didn’t care. She was upset, and he made her laugh. That was all that mattered.
He headed back through 1841 Anderson, toward the J. Campbell Library, but his thoughts were far from his destination. With Sara in Stan’s care, Ellis’ curious mind pondered one thing only… just who exactly was Office Clem?