Chapter 6

Without a word, Tabby and I waited in the living room for either Mr. Langston or the police. We explained to Mrs. Langston what was going on and she didn't say much, other than that she wished we didn't have to deal with this kind of thing. She thanked me for saving her daughter from what might've happened, but told us we should've come home before violence erupted tonight. I didn't bother telling her that they would've just caught us some other time and just sat silently holding Tabby's hand.

Mrs. Langston went into the kitchen, presumably to call the hospital, and we were left alone in the quiet living room.

"Does it bother you that I'm black?" Tabby asked out of the blue.

I turned from staring out the window and looked at her as though she had three heads. "Why would you ask that?"

She bit her plump lower lip and I was struck once again by her beauty. The lustrous curls of black hair framing her small dark face with it's full lips, deep, mysterious brown eyes and small upturned nose. I was there when every one of her baby teeth had fallen out and her new ones had grown in, I was there when she embarrassedly told me that she was starting her period, and I had seen her in her first bikini. I had been there for most of the major events in her life to date. And she wanted to know if her skin color bothered me?

I did the only thing I could think of. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against me.

She felt unbelievably warm and soft, and she smelled like coconut. Her arms came slowly around me and her face snuggled itself in the crook of my neck. Tabby had this way of hugging me that made me feel like I was closer to her than anyone else in the world. If I was wearing a jacket or sweater like tonight, she would bring her arms under it to get as close to my skin as possible. Tonight was no exception. She slipped her arms under my light jacket and started rubbing my back.

"It doesn't bother me, my Ebony Eyes," I said into her ear. "You're my girl and that's that."

She pulled back and looked up at me. "Your what?"

I frowned. "My girl?"

"No, before that. What did you call me?"

"Ebony Eyes?"

"Yeah that. What does that mean?"

I shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know, it just sounded like the thing to say. Ebony is dark and beautiful and pretty rare, like you."

Her brows furrowed and then she smiled her beautiful smile, making her big brown eyes sparkle. "I like it. But only call me that in private, okay?"

"You got it," I said, and kissed her lightly.

"To get back on track," she said, moving back but keeping her hands linked at my waist, "I wanted to know if it bothered you because you keep having to either fight idiots or rescue me from them."

"Tabby, you never have to worry about that. I'd rescue you from anybody and fight any number of idiots to protect you," I said seriously. "Besides, it's only been those two assholes and their buddies. Nobody else gives a damn about your color out here."

"I'm just afraid for you," she said in a tremulous voice. "What if they come back at us with guns or something."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," said Mr. Langston's tired voice from behind us. "The sheriff happened to be at the hospital and Frank Shepard spilled his guts. His next stop is the Devlin place."

We turned to see him hanging his coat and hat on the rack, looking tired and something else I couldn't quite identify. Guilt? Disappointment? Both?

He came in to sit in his usual recliner and fixed us with a stern gaze. "Why didn't you tell us what happened to you this afternoon, Tabbitha?"

Oooh, he was really upset. The last time he had called her Tabbitha was the previous year when she had tried driving the truck and crashed into one of the tool sheds behind the barn. After reassuring myself that she was all right, I had laughed my ass off, but Mr. Langston was very ... displeased. He had made her singlehandedly repair the shed and fixing the truck had been taken out of her allowance for the next three months.

Tabby caught it too and looked down at the ground. "I didn't want there to be trouble, Daddy," she whispered. "I knew something would happen if I told you and I just wanted it to ... go away."

"Since when have you not been able to come to us when something happened to you?" Mrs. Langston asked, now looking at both of us with a severely disappointed expression. "What did you think would happen? Did you think we would blame you?"

"We thought you'd go to the Devlins again and then Tabby would be faced with even more payback," I said. "Maybe something I wasn't there to rescue her from."

The Langstons looked at each other and communicated silently the way all long time marrieds seem to be able to do. Then Mr. Langston spoke.

"We understand that, Bobby and Tabby, but Tabby, we're still your parents. You should've come to us. Bobby, it's our job to look after her, not yours -"

"But sir -"

"Please, let me finish," he said, holding up his hand. "As I was saying, it's our job, but we know we're not going to be around forever. You kids are growing up and doing your own thing. I understand why you didn't tell us about this afternoon, but I am disappointed that you lied to us. We know going back to Royce Devlin's place wouldn't really achieve anything."

"I'm sorry Daddy," Tabby said, going to him and hugging him. "I just didn't want to make more trouble. Me and Bobby thought we could handle it."

Mr. Langston patted her on the back. "I know, Kitten, and I understand what you two were trying to do. Bobby, thank you for taking care of our daughter."

"That goes double for me," Mrs. Langston put in, coming over and giving me my own hug. "Thank you for watching out for her."

I hugged her back and smiled over at Mr. Langston. "You never have to thank me. I'd do anything for her."

Tabby came back over and snuggled against my side with her arm around my waist. "My own personal hero," she said, giving me that soft smile I'd come to love."

"Well, it all doesn't matter anyway. Seems Brian has been stealing people's pawned items and reselling them to fences down in Portland, so the sheriff was looking for him. Royce is going to have his hands full dealing with that and he'll forget about us. Right after Brian gets his jaw fixed, he's getting his ass hauled to jail."

"So nothing is going to happen to them?" Mrs. Langston wondered, indicating us.

"Most likely not. Ed is going to be arresting the boy and isn't likely to be bothered with school yard bullying."

Ed was Sheriff Edward Bryson, who had been elected Clark County Sheriff last year. He didn't put up with criminals and was known to be very friendly with both the District Attorney and the warden at Walla Walla Penitentiary. I hoped to God old Brian Devlin would get himself shipped over the mountains and become the bitch to some three hundred pound scumbag for the next five years. Not for stealing a bunch of hi-fi's and record players, but for what he had done and what he was going to do to Tabby.

"What about Shepard?" I asked.

"Oh he's not going to be a problem. He couldn't wait to roll over on Devlin when he found out the sheriff was already there to arrest him. He's going to spend the night in jail and I don't think you'll be hearing from him in a long time."

Just then there was a knock on the door. "That's probably him," Mr. Langston said, getting up and heading to answer it.

Tabby and I exchanged a nervous look and moved slightly closer together.

"You'll be okay, kids," Mrs. Langston soothed. "You're not in trouble."

"That's right," said Ed Bryson, coming in from the front hall and tipping his hat respectfully to Mrs. Langston. Introductions were made all around and then the talk got around to the purpose of his visit.

"I'm just here to get a few details straight before I write up my final report," he said. "Why don't you two kids tell me your version?"

Tabby and I told him our story, starting way back in the eighth grade with Rosie and ending that evening.

"Hmm. Well I'm sorry you had to put up with that, young lady," Bryson said, hooking his thumbs in his gun belt, his badge shining imperiously under the living room lights. "You could've come to my office this afternoon. It sounds like they were getting ready to do more than roll you in the mud."

Back in those days, the word rape was never used. That kind of thing just didn't happen to nice girls. It was swept under the rug and forgotten about. And if it did go to trial, the rapist's lawyer would try to paint the girl as some kind of temptress, teasing him beyond all reason. In other words, he would try to make the jury think she asked for it. Tabby and I both knew that and so Tabby's response was predictable.

"Maybe, but I just wanted it to go away. Not the smartest decision, I'll admit, but..." she shrugged and looked away.

Bryson nodded kindly. "I understand, Miss Langston. In any case it doesn't matter, Mr. Frank Shepard, Bill Fullerton, Daniel Price and Richard Kincaid are going to jail for attempted assault and battery, based on Mr. Shepard's testimony. They are all eighteen so they will have a record."

"Do I need to testify or anything?" I asked.

"You shouldn't have to, Mr. Torrence. None of them could positively identify you as their assailant this afternoon, plus they were bullying an innocent girl. I can book them just for that and you don't need to get involved. They all know it was you who disrupted their ... fun, but they can't prove it, since (A) it was dark behind the trees and (B) tonight they were trespassing on private property so whatever you did can be construed as defense of home."

"That makes me feel better," I admitted. "I was kind of afraid I'd have to face my own charges."

Bryson smiled. "Not from me you won't. Do any of you have any questions?"

We all looked at each other, but nobody said anything.

"I don't think so, Ed," Mr. Langston said, offering his hand to the sheriff. "Thanks for dealing with the situation, and we apologize for dragging you out on a night like this."

While we had been talking, the clouds had moved in, obscuring the moon and a slow rain had started, the kind of rain that makes you want to curl up under a blanket with your girl and shut out the world. I wished Tabby and I had that option, but we couldn't do a damn thing in her parents' house.

"Just doing my job," Bryson smiled, shaking Mr. Langston's hand and tipping his hat to Mrs. Langston. "And you, Mr. Torrence, you did a good job looking after this young lady."

Bryson offered both of us his hand and, with a final good bye, he was out into the rain.

"Well that was quite a dramatic evening," Mrs. Langston said. "I think you two kids have had quite enough, don't you?"

All of a sudden it hit both Tabby and I simultaneously, and we both yawned, which made us laugh. "I guess it has," I said.

Tabby leaned against me and yawned again. I wished she wouldn't do that because her breasts pressed against me and I didn't want to be sporting wood around her parents; it just seemed wrong to me. By the teasing little smile that appeared on her face after the yawn, though, Tabby knew exactly what she was doing. I couldn't believe the resilience of this girl. Not two hours ago she was about to be attacked, and here she was playing baby nymph. What the hell?

"Yeah, I think we'd better call it a night, Mom," Tabby smiled at her mother. She rubbed on me a little more, making it look like a yawn/stretch. I glared at her, but she just smiled and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Bobby," she giggled.

Thanking whatever higher powers might be listening that I was wearing loose pants, I hugged my girl and said good night to her, and then to the Langstons.

"Try to stay out of trouble the rest of the night, okay?" MR. Langston said with a sardonic grin.

"I'll do my best," I said dryly.

As it turned out, that was the end of the whole mess. Royce Devlin apparently had been living beyond his means and owed a great deal of money to some very unhappy people, people you just didn't say no to. He packed up his family and snuck away in the night like a horse thief, leaving behind the pawn shop. Eventually it turned into a real estate office, and nobody ever heard from the Devlins again.

Frank Shepard and the rest of the football players who had been involved in the mud puddle incident left us alone after that. I think they were afraid of us. I didn't care if they were or not, all I wanted was to be left alone and that was exactly what I got.

Barry and the rest of us got together for two more rehearsals before the Halloween dance. The last one was attended by all of our girlfriends, who clumped together and cheered when Mike climbed on his bass and rode it like a bull. He was the real class clown among us and he was always doing ridiculous shit like that.

I have to admit we probably did play better with the girls there. Tabby especially made me want to make that guitar sing. I was still only average at best, but when she smiled at me I felt like I could play forever and make the sweetest music in the god damn world.