Whistling in the Dark

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

We didn’t live across from the playground anymore so to get over there Troo and me had to cut through the Fazios’ backyard. Laying on the grass on a white blanket, listening to rock ’n’ roll music, was Fast Susie. She had on her pink polka-dot swimsuit with the pleated skirt, a matching glass of pink lemonade next to her.

“Hi,” I said, coming up next to her. I couldn’t believe she was working on her tan some more. She was past Egyptian dark and almost the same color as Ray Buck.

Fast Susie shaded her eyes and looked up at us. “O’Malley sisters? That you? Where the hell you been?” She laughed like whatever she was about to tell us really fractured her. “Heard the word?”

Troo was so happy to see her that she smiled so big, you could practically see it coming out the back of her head. Fast Susie was Troo’s idol.

Fast Susie grinned like the cat in Alice in Wonderlandand said, “Reese Latour is goin’ into the army.”

“Really?!” I yelled. I just hated Reese Latour and I felt so happy for Artie since Reese couldn’t run around the neighborhood anymore yelling harelip, harelip, harelip. And Reese couldn’t call Wendy the idiot anymore. Or stare at Troo with those eyes that gave me heebie-jeebies while he rubbed the front of his pants. No doubt about it. Reese going into the army was fantastic news! Almost too good to be true.

I said, “You absolutely sure?”

Fast Susie made her eyebrows go up and down like Groucho’s. “You bet your life, little lady.”

Whatever thing with garlic Nana Fazio was making for supper tonight, the deliciousness of it was coming out the back window, and Elvis was singing about “A Big Hunk o’ Love” on the radio when Fast Susie said, “I heard Tony and Jane talkin’ about it.” Those were Fast Susie’s parents. Sometimes though she called them the ape-man and Jane and I didn’t blame her because Mr. Fazio was almost as hairy as Sampson. I am not kidding. Mr. Fazio worked selling silver-ware. That’s what Willie O’Hara had heard. That Mr. Fazio worked for somebody called Frankie the Knife.

“Remember when Wendy fell down the Spencers’ cellar steps?” Fast Susie asked.

Troo said, “Yeahhhhh…”

“And remember how everybody thought she just had one of her silly wanderings?”

I said, “Nooo…” I never believed that for one second. “Reese did it.” Fast Susie popped up, which made me and Troo jump, which was exactly what she was trying to make us do.

“Reese pushed Wendy down the Spencers’ cellar steps?” I asked her.

“Yup. And Wendy finally told on him.”

I thought back to that day when Wendy and me were sitting on the Kenfields’ porch swing and I asked her if Rasmussen had done it to her and then her mother with the opera lungs called her and she ran home. Why didn’t she tell me then that it was Reese?

“Reese is saying Wendy made it all up, of course.” Fast Susie squirted some baby oil into her hand and smoothed it on her legs. She had told Troo and me at the beginning of summer that she was thinking of starting to shave, which I thought would be a very good idea since her legs took after Tony the ape-man. “He’s telling everybody that Wendy is just a dumb idiot and that if anyone believes her, they’re an idiot, too.”

“Oh my God, sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” I said. Reese Latour had been the murderer and molester all the time. I just couldn’t believe that. Why hadn’t I been paying attention to details?

“When he found out what Reese had done to Wendy, Mr. Latour beat the living shit out of him with a strap. I’m surprised you didn’t hear him yellin’ over at your house.” Fast Susie was getting a lot of good feelings out of telling us this news. She hated Reese even more than the rest of us did. Who wouldn’t?

Troo snorted, “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“And guess who else is going away for a little trip?” Fast Susie showed her eyeteeth. “Greasy Al.”

Troo started hopping around. “Really? Really? Greasy Al is going into the army, too?”

“No, they wouldn’t take him into the army because of his gimpy polio leg,” Fast Susie said, taking a sip of her lemonade. “He’s going to reform school up north.”

So that’s what Rasmussen meant when he said he had taken care of that subject.

Greasy Al’s departure didn’t really register in my mind just then because I was still so shocked about what Fast Susie had told us about Reese. He’d been the one who chased me down the alley that night, and when he couldn’t get me he musta turned back toward home, and Wendy was doing one of her wanderings and he found her and tried to murder and molest his own sister. She probably got away because Wendy was really strong and that was another one of those things that God gave people when He took something else away. I once saw Wendy Latour pick up Artie when she got mad at him one day and throw him about six feet in the air. That’s how strong Wendy was. And some of those hugs she gave me, holey moley.

But wait a minute.

If Reese was the murderer and molester, how come he wasn’t getting electrocuted and was just getting sent to the army? That didn’t seem right. “What about Sara and Junie?” I asked Fast Susie.

“What about ’em?” She was smoothing baby oil all over her arms, her hair standing up like a black forest.

“Don’t you think it was Reese that murdered them?” I asked.

Troo said, “Yeah, that’s what I told you before!” She looked so proud of herself. “That Reese Latour is the murderer and molester.” She was right. She’d told me in the hospital lobby with her ventriloquism lips.

Fast Susie said, “Naw, I don’t think it was Reese. If it was, Officer Rasmussen woulda come by and taken Reese off in handcuffs, and I been lyin’ here all morning and woulda seen him come by.”

I still thought Troo was right. It was Reese. And when Mr. Dave came home tonight from the police station, I would tell him that. He probably hadn’t thought it through all the way because of his excitement about me being his new daughter and everything.

“Troo,” I said, crossing over into the Latours’ yard, “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go over and check on Wendy.”

“I’m goin’ over to the playground and celebrate Greasy Al going to reform school. Come over there when you’re done, Thally O’Malley.” Troo could do an imitation of Wendy that was so close I had to smile. Even though it wasn’t very nice of her, it was still a good imitation.

When I was almost to the Latours’ front door, Fast Susie called over to me, “You know what, O’Malley?” I turned back. “You’re a nice kid. A square, but a nice kid.” And then she turned her radio up so she could sing along to “Splish Splash, I Was Taking a Bath.”

That was a nice thing for Fast Susie to say. I was feeling pretty nice. Very happy that Reese would no longer be able to murder or molest anybody ever again. Especially me. And maybe up north Greasy Al would get reformed, and when he came home he would not be such a bully. And Mother hadn’t died and Mr. Dave’s house was much more wonderful than our old one. Nell and Eddie were getting married. And Ethel was going to be my next-door neighbor with visits from Mr. Gary every summer. I even felt better about Uncle Paulie being brain damaged because according to Ethel he was a real pain in the patootie before the crash.

So I felt… I didn’t know how to describe it exactly. Maybe… light? A lot lighter than I had for a long time. Like sunshine could get into me now.

Feeling that way, I made the worst mistake ever. I stopped paying attention to the details. And by the time I remembered what Daddy’d warned me about, it was too late.