What I was remembering was the scene that Sunday morning when they had me trapped up there in that old barn.
15
She went on. “Anyway, Miss Davey came by the house one Saturday afternoon when I was home alone and wanted to go swimming. I told her I didn’t like the idea of swimming in the river because it had snags in it and there might be snakes, but she seemed so anxious to try it I finally gave in. I put my bathing suit on, with slacks over it, left a note telling my sister where I’d gone, and we started down here. We went in her car. I thought about this place because I remembered there was a pool just below the bridge.
“When we got here it was still early in the afternoon and the sun was awfully hot. We took off the clothes we had on over our swim-suits, but she didn’t seem to be nearly as eager to swim as she had been. She wanted to talk. We sat in the car and smoked a cigarette, almost in this same spot we’re in now, and she told me how much she appreciated my being so nice to her and that she liked me very much. It was a little embarrassing, but I just thought she was lonely and eager to make friends here and I didn’t want to be too stand-offish and rude and hurt her feelings. But then she started telling me I was very pretty, and how I looked in a bathing suit—“
She broke off then. I could feel her shudder slightly. “It’s awfully hard to tell you this, Harry,” she said hesitantly.
“It’s all right, honey,” I said. “You can skip most of it if you want to. There’s nothing new about it, and I can guess the rest.”
“I’m glad you understand,” she said. “I—I guess I was awfully naive. I was just uncomfortable and wanted to get out of the car because some of the things she was saying were so personal. And then— It was horrible. She was trying to kiss me. I was so absolutely frozen with terror I couldn’t do anything at first, and then I tried to get out. She was talking to me and trying to hold me back, and I began to fight at her. She was terribly strong. I was crying by this time and trying to get the door open and push her away all at the same time when suddenly she stopped and looked around the other way, out of the window on her side. There was a man standing there in the road. I didn’t know him then, but it was Mr. Sutton.
“He looked just the way he did that time we saw him out at the oil well. He hadn’t shaved, and he had the gun in his arm and was carrying a dead squirrel by the tail.
“He stood there looking at us for a minute with that awful, filthy grin, and then he said, ‘Well, girls, a little lovers’ spat, huh?’
“I couldn’t do or say anything. I wondered if I was going to faint or be ill right there in the car. And then she tore into him, cursing just like a man. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such things as she called him. And all the time he just stood there and grinned. Then he said, ‘Well, girls, I won’t interrupt you. You go ahead and kiss and make up.’ And then he walked on away.
“I don’t know yet how I got away. I must have just grabbed my things and run, out into the timber. The next thing I knew I was all alone, lying in some leaves with my slacks and things in my arms, sobbing for breath. After a while I got up and put them back on over my bathing suit and started walking. I found the road all right, and a Negro woman in an old Ford came along and gave me a ride to town. When I got home Sister still hadn’t returned, so I tore up the note I’d left. I would never tell anybody about it.”
“And that was all?” I asked. “I mean, until he came and looked you up?”
“No.” She shook her head. “That was just the beginning. The terrible part was the next day, and Monday. She didn’t come back to town that night. Somebody at the boarding-house notified the Sheriff’s office that she was missing, and late Sunday afternoon