The Bridge

51

When we entered Virgil and Allie’s place, Allie and Nell Beauchamp were sitting side by side on the sofa near the fireplace. They were drinking tea. There was a bottle of Kentucky next to the tea tray that suggested the tea was most likely unsatisfying.

“Oh, good,” Allie said, as she got to her feet. “Virgil, Everett, I believe you two have met Mrs. Beauchamp?”

“We have,” Virgil said.

“Evening, Mrs. Beauchamp,” I said.

She smiled. She remained seated on the feather sofa. Her legs were crossed under her expensive-looking dress and she leaned her body to one side, making her right hip slightly raised from the sofa. Her left elbow rested on the arm of the sofa with her forearm angled up, allowing her head to rest in the palm of her hand. Her right arm was outstretched over the curved back of the sofa. With the exception of having her clothes on, her position reminded me a nudie pose from a backroom stereopticon show.

“Nell, please,” she said. “No need for formality.”

“Nell,” I said. “Good to see you again.”

“It is,” Virgil said.

“Good to see you again, too,” she said.

Nell didn’t move a muscle from her pose on the sofa as Virgil and I hung our coats and hats next to the door.

“So glad you are back,” Allie said. “I waited to start supper. I never know if and when they’ll come home.”

“We’re here,” Virgil said.

“They?” Nell said. “How fortunate for you.”

“Well, Virgil,” Allie said with a giggle. “I never know if and when Virgil will come home. Everett is...”

“I’m just here a lot,” I said. “They can’t get rid of me. I’m kind of like the town dog.”

Nell laughed. She had a nice laugh.

“Well,” Nell said. “You don’t look much like a town dog.”

“Am,” I said.

“Do you bite?” Nell said.

“Do,” I said.

“Well,” Nell said. “I’ll be sure and not get too close.”

“Be a good idea,” I said.

She laughed again, and again I thought she had a lovely laugh. I thought she was very pretty, but then almost from someplace deep inside, an undercurrent of my mind, flashed the horrific image of our men hanging in the slaughterhouse. It was such a private, brutal thought for this particular time.

I looked to the fire for a moment and thought secretly and intently about what we saw. I shook my head some. I realized that what we witnessed would haunt me for a very long time, perhaps for the rest of my life. The godforsaken slaughterhouse...

“I’ve invited Nell to stay the night,” Allie said.

Virgil looked at me, then looked to the women.

“Mr. Beauchamp?”

“Resting,” Nell said.

“Know where you are?” Virgil said.

Nell nodded.

“I let him know,” she said.

“You did?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And he heard you?” Virgil said.

“Virgil?” Allie said.

Virgil looked to Allie.

“You walked over there and got her and she told him she was staying the night?” Virgil said.

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Allie said.

“Just don’t want him to come out of sleeping it off and find his wife missing.”

“Virgil,” Allie said, appalled.

“It’s okay,” Nell said. “Don’t worry, Marshal. I assure you it’s not an issue. He’ll not see the chime of another hour until late tomorrow morning.”

Virgil looked at her for a moment and nodded a little.

“Well,” Virgil said. “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” Nell said. “Your home is beautiful.”

“Appreciate it,” Virgil said. “We put a lot into it.”

Virgil looked to me.

“Everett helped,” he said.

I smiled.

Nell looked to me and smiled. So far Nell had yet to budge even a smidgen from her pose on the sofa.

“Where’s she gonna sleep?” Virgil said.

“With me,” Allie said. “Just like sisters.”

“Where am I gonna sleep?” Virgil said.

“Right there,” Allie said, pointing to the sofa.