Chapter 9

The next morning at breakfast Peg seemed to have forgotten the discussion of the night before. April felt guilty about still clinging to shreds of anger and banished resentment from her mind. But not her determination to pursue the course she had chosen regarding Bill.

A new eagerness carried her through the day to Bill's chemistry class. When he trooped in with the other students, her eyes fixed expectantly on him. With hardly a glance at her, he said a final word to his friends, walked to his seat directly before her desk and dropped into it.

April's bright hopes fell with a dull thud and she felt both foolish and angry with herself. Of course, he would not have made up his mind so soon. He would have to shake off his past, undirected momentum. She had let last night's arguments and her later plans make her too impatient. Nevertheless, through the class period, she could not help an occasional searching glance at him.

When the bell rang he merely gave her a passing smile-friendly enough-and walked out with the others. April slapped her rollbook down on the desk and silently lectured herself about being patient.

But the scene repeated itself one way or another for the rest of the week. On alternate days, the class had lab work and this meant Bill remained after class to replenish supplies and tally breakage. He gave her no opening to resume their earlier conversation, nor did he volunteer anything she could interpret as increased interest in his studies. By Friday night April was ready to shake him in sheer exasperation but he was even more hurried that night-and she knew that what he had in mind was preparation for the next day's football game.

April sat in the stands that sunny fall afternoon and watched the game. Actually, she admitted to herself, she watched Bill Collins. He was a different person out there on the field. Sure of himself, alert, commanding, April saw him as a man. She had to remind herself constantly that the jersey-clad, powerful and decisively moving body belonged to a boy in her class-a student. Out on the field he seemed to have little to learn about anything. The home team won, but in April's mind, Bill Collins had won.

Crushed in the out-flowing crowd from the stands, she suddenly found herself pressed against Judson Gray. She thought his wide smile held smirking memory and tried to edge away. But the tightly packed crowd permitted no escape.

He said, "And how have you been?"

"Fine, thank you."

He ignored the ice in her voice. "I've been intending to call you. But between the store and this factory business, I've not had a free moment."

"Until now?" She gave him a skeptical smile.

"That's right. Look, how about a cocktail?"

"Sorry, I can't."

"Dinner tonight?"

"I have a date."

"Oh, I see." They were pushed along a few steps and joggled together several times. "Maybe another time-say this week?"

"Very busy-all week."

His eyes darkened. "You're making it pretty plain."

"Am I? I intend to."

"How does a man say he went out of line and he's sorry?"

"He just says it."

"Okay, I've said it. How about a chance to make up for it?"

They were suddenly expelled through the narrow gate and the crowd pressure vanished. She stepped away from him, smiled briefly.

"Very thoughtful of you, Mr. Gray, but I really wouldn't care to run the chance again. Good seeing you, though. Goodbye."

He raised a hand to check her but April whirled and pushed her way through the crowd, glad that the human bodies behind her formed an obstacle against pursuit. She felt virtuous, glad she had put Judson Gray in his place.

Yet when she climbed into her car and drove slowly toward the street, she felt a touch of regret. Perhaps she should not have been so curt with him. No man was a saint-nor did she have a right to demand that Judson Gray be one.

April spent a lonely evening. Peg had a date and left early. April made a dinner of sorts for herself. She watched television but could not get interested, and finally turned off the set.

Finally she put on a coat and went out for a drive. She cruised aimlessly through the dismal, dark business section of town, then took the highway out to the prairie. She gave no thought to destination until she saw the high neon of the Corners ahead. She slowed her speed, looking for a turn-around, but found none. She came to the tavern and motel, saw the line of cars before the building and under die trees. On an impulse she braked to a stop, killed her engine, cut her lights.

The place seemed less active than it had been when Jud had brought her here. But she saw a couple come out of the tavern and walk in close embrace into the motel court. They seemed to be teenagers. She watched them go to a cabin. The boy unlocked the door. He turned to the girl, who came into his arms. After a long embrace the two went into the unit and the door closed.

April sighed. Jud had been right. Perhaps Peg was right also. These boys and girls had more immediate pleasures in mind and at hand than working for an indefinite future. Or the drab, unpromising future they saw all about them in town. She decided to go home.

She bent to turn on the ignition key and froze, looking through her windshield. Another couple appeared-and this time the boy's dark figure was familiar.

The boy and girl rounded the tavern, headed directly for the motel. She saw Bill Collins plainly.

April sat almost in shock. It was one thing to be told about Bill, another actually to see him with a child strumpet. April's fist slammed down on die rim of the steering wheel.

Strumpet. That's all she is....

She started the motor and drove back toward town as though she were fleeing some danger.

April welcomed Monday. She had come to a decision regarding Bill Collins. If he chose to run loose she would waste no more time or concern on him. She would have an answer from him one way or another-today.

She concealed her feelings as she moved from bench to bench during the chem lab, watching each student, making adjustments in apparatus, explaining a process. When she came to Bill, he gave her a grin over a test tube he held above a bunsen burner.

She asked coldly, "Questions?"

He looked at her in sharp surprise. "No, I'm coming along all right."

She sensed his eyes on her as she moved along. The bell rang soon afterward and the students collected their material, cleared the work benches and left. April returned to her desk in the adjacent lecture room, waited until they had all filed out. She studied her class notes for the next day until the corridors were empty and their silence seemed to echo throughout the building.

She heard small sounds from the lab as Bill went about his duties. She closed her notebook and listened. Her moment had come. She waited until he had ended his chores, then walked into the lab and asked an unnecessary question.

"Finished so soon?"

"Most of the kids have lost their butterfingers."

She smiled and walked to the window. She heard him move slightly behind her and turned. He stood a few feet away.

"I've been wondering what you've decided about college. Is it such a problem to make up your mind?"

"I guess not, if I forget the plans I was sort of making."

"What plans?"

"Oh-working for dad and making money on my own. Running around with the bunch."

"And trips to the Corners?"

He tensed a moment then grinned. "That place bugs you."

An angry reply came to her lips but she held it back. "We're talking about you. I've told you what you're capable of doing if you want to."

He looked slowly about die lab and the laughter left his eyes.

"I like this," he said slowly. "I feel right fooling around with the stuff and equipment. It's fun to watch an experiment work out."

"I told you-you belong in science."

His head turned back to her. "How did you come to know that?"

"I could see it from the start."

"Well, you're the first teacher who ever did." He made an angry grimace. "The only time anyone notices me is when I'm playing football or in trouble. They give me a pat on the back for the one and a kick in the pants for the other."

April laughed. "And sometimes I feel the same urge."

He did not smile in return. "The way the town is, there's nothing to do-no job you can depend on, no future. What makes another place different? Suppose I make a career, move out, settle somewhere else. What's to keep the same thing from happening wherever I go?"

"Maybe you can prevent another town's dying. All that's needed here is a new industry."

He stood close to her, vital and young, his eyes questioning hers. April felt a little shock pass through her and looked hastily away. She was suddenly appalled at what she had promised him-how could she completely guarantee his future?

"What about me is so different? Why haven't you picked on someone else?"

"I-have faith in you."

After a long moment Bill asked in a softer tone, "How do we go about it? Let's say I decide to go along with you."

"Have you decided?"

"Well, I won't knock a thing until I've tried it. I can't see what high grades this last year will do after-well, what you called my irregular work."

"The grades will help. But the main thing is for you to find yourself in something you want to do. You'll see. Work hard this year in every subject. Enter college next year. Major in a science-maybe chemistry. I'm willing to bet that after the first year you'll have a science scholarship."

"Say I do-that's a year after next. What happens now? How do you help?"

"You'll do the regular assigned work, Bill. But I'll give you additional coaching in college chemistry, advanced experiments and study. I have two free periods-and we could stay after regular hours. I'd be glad to do it."

He stared at her. "You and me-we'd work together? You'll put in extra time?"

"So will you. You'll have to give up a lot of things outside school-afternoons and maybe evenings. Are you game?"

"Okay, it's a deal."

"Bill!"

She took an involuntary step toward him. He thrust out his hand.

She accepted it and his strong fingers wrapped around hers. He leaned slightly toward her. She felt her body respond subtly to his maleness-but not in any way she could not control.

Her eyes met his levelly. She felt the slight tightening of his grip. Then his gaze grew veiled and he dropped her hand, stepped back.

"When do we start?"

"Soon-I have to dig out my university texts. In a few days."

His disappointment showed. "Sure. Any time. You let me know."

He swung about and walked out. She heard the fading echo of his steps cross the next room, die out in the corridor. April closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She had committed herself.