Do Not Read This

Conflict and Consensus

      "Of course I love you," Lacey said.
          "And what good does that get us?"
      "I thought it might get us a wedding." Winch said.
          "Weddings," said Lacey, "cost money."
      "We could get a civil service cheap." Winch said.
            "You would say that." said Lacey.
      "That's the trouble, Winch. That's why I can't marry you.
            You think it wouldn't matter."
              Winch made a move toward her, and as swiftly checked it.
      "What is the trouble?" he said. "I don't understand." If only he
      could get mad, Lacey thought. If only he would shout. If only
      he wouldn't look at me like that, his eyes hurt and bewildered.
      "You weren't like this at the dance." Winch said and hesitated
      for a word. "Calculating."
              "I'm not calculating." she said and wondered if she were.
      Lacey liked Winch from the beginning of the dance. She liked his broad
      shoulders and athletic figure. Lacey was pleased, because he sought her out.
      She liked the way laughter made his blue eyes sparkle and crinkle in the corners.
      His hair was wavy brown and combed back. She liked his mouth best.
      It was a stern mouth, contradicting all the rest of his face. He danced like water,
      swift and smooth.
              She learned things about him afterward. None of them were right.
      He didn't have a car. He worked in a sporting goods store. And quite frankly
      that he couldn't afford to pay for dinner. He wasn't at all the man Lacey Jolie
      should be seeing. The Jolie family owned a string of bowling allies.
      How could Winch ever fit in?
            "I'm not calculating." she said, sitting on the bench outside. "I mustn't
      marry for love. I must have security." Lacey took off her right high heel shoe
      and rubbed her toes through her silk stockings. Winch smiled at her pink toe nails.
      "I'm a depression era child. We never knew. The stocks went first. There was
      real estate and it ate itself up in taxes and rent. There was money in the banks
      and the banks failed. It killed my father," Lacey said after a pause, "It broke his
      heart. He loved my mother. He couldn't give her the things she needed-it made
      a difference. My mother divorced him. She makes her own money now."
            "I understand." Winch said. She could feel the hardness of Winch bones
      against her body and the hardness of his lips. Her cheek was wet against his.
      "Oh, Winch," she sobbed, "I love you so much! Good-by, Winch." The horror
      of Winch's strangle hold left her hands in an odd little gesture of submission.
      If only it were not so lusty a thing in the sharp brush beside the dancing hall.
      Her gown was stripped off her only her silk stockings remained softly on her
      thighs. "Nothing is too much to pay." Winch said, "If you really want a thing."
      Winch dragged her limp body along a river bank, "How about a swim?"
      There on the damp mud in the shadow of the lilac; Lacey thought she would die.
      She held out her hand in pity. Her skin was translucent. Her soft red mouth straightened.
      She was fragile and slender, her face was a wedge of light in the darkness.
      Winch kicked Lacey into the river, "The current will carry you to your mother's house.
      I should think she will kill you!"
                Lacey felt the cold water about her face. She struggled to swim and gasped.
      "Is it time to dress for dinner?" she could hear her mother say. The window commanded
      the rock garden. It was her beacon. She pictured herself going to her bedroom
      window and to her bed. She crawled along the wet river bank and up to a parking lot.
      It was a diner. Lacey collapsed face down under a truck. "Your a sweet drink of water."
      the truck driver said. Lacey tried to rise from her bed, but she was tied. She lay in
      the back of the truck's cab. "My birthday present." the trucker laughed and drove.
      "Winch! Winch! Winch!" Lacey sobbed. There was a terrific rattling as the truck
      rode on. Lacey thought maybe it was her bones. But, after awhile the truck driver
      Bill turned onto the main road. The truck wasn't going home. It was going a hundred
      miles somewhere. "I can pay you to take me home!" Lacey said. "Shucks." Bill said,
      "I couldn't charge you for going nowhere."
                  Bill's house was like all the other houses in nowhere a hundred miles from
      nothing. Lacey learned to do Bill's cleaning and make his meals and please him
      anyway he asked. She bore his children and thought very little of her life.
      Lacey had never worked so hard. A lump grew in her throat as she thought
      about Winch. The man she could have loved. Bill was a good provider and their
      children were strong and happy. "Mercy!" said Bill, "What will your mother think
      of me?" Bill announced to their two young boys. He had bought a cake for their
      anniversary and got it from the truck. Lacey smiled at the candles and blew them out.
      She had found a way to get a hold of Bill's gun and shot Bill dead. Lacey took her
      sons in the truck back to her mother. "So?" said her mother Angelina, "Do you
      expect me to support your children?"  Lacey looked at her muddy boots, "They can
      work at the bowling ally." Angelina laughed and slapped her daughter across the face.
      "What a pig you have become!" Lacey had lost her slender figure many winters past.
      She had a steady diet of bacon, eggs, potatoes, hash browns, and okra. Lacey
      walked slowly back to the truck where her sons were waiting. "You can all work
      at the bowling ally!" Angelina shouted. Lacey raced over to her mother and hugged
      her off her feet, "I'll be the best employee!"

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