Chapters Burying the Lead Chapter 5
Charlie made many compliments on Gwen’s outfit as he glanced at his phone for directions — back toward the school and then a turn north toward the busier parts of the labyrinthine streets. She knew them well if he had asked, but the way he spoke wasn’t leading or offering her any allowances to pipe up politely besides a ‘thank you’ or two. They were only a few blocks away from the music pouring out of Clive’s Soda Bar when Gwen finally had the courage to speak.
“Was this your plan all along? To take me out?”
Charlie shook her leash, indicating for her to skip ahead and walk alongside him with far less slack, before he answered. “Well yes, I had an eye on you since your exam, but I was going to ask your guardian from the porch, not— well it got a bit complicated, but we’re not too worse for wear, I think. To his credit, your cousin really moved once he had the fear of God in him!”
The two laughed as they passed by a few glass-fronted shops and more couples strolling around like them, then the local park full of men playing catch with each other or their pets, and women making use of the fountain benches. Kids ran around the playground playing tag, the boys slowing down to a jog whenever a girl was ‘it’. They passed by a couple of juniors or sophomores from her school with their leashes tied together in a bow, like Gwen’s Dad might allow her to lead Harriet when they went to the mall — within his line of sight, of course. They passed by another woman in a light and tight sundress and exercise shoes, being pulled along by a young German Shepard on a mission. Mostly though, the local women weren’t leashed to anything, chatting along with chaperones or each other, carrying their own purses across their body, walking at their own pace, dipping into whichever storefronts they liked from the window displays.
Indeed when Gwen surveyed the busy street, she had to remember she was the odd one out. Not only did few other women have waist belts as long as hers, meant to be looped around the nearest hand, hook, or post, but fewer still had a pink slip with their guardian’s script on it, folded just right to poke out of their pocket.
Only her and Charlie received that warm nod of acknowledgement from the policeman in his booth on the corner, the “all is well, have a good one” that came with her family name and that slip. The local precinct knew which families lived by Ford principles and who to call if anything was amiss.
Gwen smiled back, secure and happy living in a community that cared so much about women’s safety. She didn’t know how everyone else got by without that firm hand, honestly, but her Dad had always taught Gwen and Harriet to be accepting of different lifestyles. To an extent.
Charlie opened the door to reveal Clive’s, a busy diner specializing in burgers and floats and the best milkshakes in the county. He seemed to catch the eye of someone and led Gwen to the far back.
Her leash got the stink eye from a table crowded with public school girls in their plain polyester dresses, while one of their own slipped a bare foot up above the tabletop to grab a french fry.
“Hey now!” The burly old gentleman behind the counter yelled their way, “No shoes no service, young lady! I know whose name is on your tab!”
Gwen kept her head down for fear of an impolite look of righteousness from slipping out, watching her shoes following her leasholder’s every step. Peter had left them securely buckled and they would stay that way.
The couple reached a big booth at the back, already packed with two other pairs, led by a couple chaps from the boy’s school each escorting a girl from Gwen’s graduating class. They had food in front of them already.
Javier and Micheal stood to shake Charlie’s hand. “I knew you would make it eventually!”
“Sorry we ordered, the girls were starving.”
Charlie told them not to bother while Faith and Cristina rolled their eyes from the booth, as if to say, “What gentlemen.”
Heads were nodded, curtsies were given, names were exchanged, and Charlie’s hands held Gwen firmly around the waist, helping her scoot further into the booth to bump shoulders with Cristina, who broke the ice, “Hi! I feel like we haven’t been sat next to each other since first or second year!”
Gwen nodded and reminisced. “Gonzalez, Cartwright, not too close in the alphabet. What a shame. And to think we’re finally finished!”
Faith’s expression soured and Charlie noticed while slipping into place next to Gwen in the packed booth. “What am I missing?”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Gwen said, concerned, “I thought that’s what we were celebrating.”
The Ford boys looked at each other.
Cristina clarified. “Faith’s family follows the rule of the Meek, she doesn’t speak in mixed company. I think her Dad or her fiance picked a supplemental summer session at Ford before the wedding.”
Javier finger-fed her one of his fries and grabbed the approval slip from her breast pocket. “And it’s wild too, I mean she’s got straight A’s here!”
“Well we can toast to that,” Charlie offered his cup to the boys and the girls congratulated Faith with a warm and cordial ‘cheers’ as well as a little footsie under the table.
Faith didn’t waffle over the slip in manners when Javier had a perfectly good fork in front of him, she just ate up and smiled at the people talking about her, wiggling in a little self-congratulatory cheer.
As the boys started feeding their dates from the sliders and fries and pickles before them, Gwen felt her own stomach rumble and leaned into Charlie slightly.
“Oh yes, let me flag down the waiter.”
He did, but while Gwen was ready for a bite, she definitely wasn’t ready to see Tegan, Clive’s only daughter and fellow Ford graduate, come strolling by in a waiter’s uniform; her decorative paper cap and white apron underneath a very non-decorative tray — near-side bound around her waist and far-side supported by a strap hanging from her neck, like a hawker of popcorn and beer at a baseball game.
“Welcome to Clive’s Soda Bar.” Her voice wavered. “Please take a menu and I’ll be right back to get your order.”
Gwen’s mouth must’ve been hanging open, because Tegan blushed hard and practically scampered away to the next table as soon as Charlie had accepted the menus from her tray.
“Poor thing.” Cristina leant into Gwen. “Old Clive’s been having a tough time finding servers so he has to use his own daughter for help. I wouldn’t want guys seeing me like that, they’d think I’ll be his maid around the house.”
Gwen had to agree it was more than a little embarrassing for a girl to be seen working such a menial job. It was more appropriate for women to be in advisory positions, like a style guide in a department store, or a concierge at a hotel. It showed they had refined tastes and intellect. Sales and serving and handiwork were men’s trades through and through, and it seemed Micheal felt pretty strongly about it.
“It’s just not right.” He stabbed at his fries.
“How do you reckon?” Charlie looked up from his menu. “Plenty of girls work in Dallas, especially when they don’t have brothers to earn for the family, or they live without a guardian. Of course—”
“We’re not talking about inner-city dykes though, this is God’s country.” Michael said matter-of-factly.
Gwen balked at the foul language and looked down at the menu set in front of her. It was right then she realized just how long it had been since she was last given a menu to simply order for herself. Even if a waiter offered, her Dad would surely decline — with a wink her way. He usually knew what she liked just fine. Now that she could see all the options, though, it was a bit overwhelming.
Charlie seemed disinterested in stoking the guy’s fire, so he asked her what she wanted.
“Uhm… a strawberry shake?” she asked like he was going to say no, but he didn’t hesitate at all.
“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want some food too?”
Her eyes went wide and a rush of anxiety overcame Gwen, a very odd feeling for someone who thought herself so self-assured. She wasn’t usually asked! Did he expect her to— “Maybe we can… share?”
Even though he replied, “Of course,” just in his demeanor Charlie seemed to be a little disappointed in her indecision. Not unsurprised. He flagged Tegan to come back, but once she arrived with her tray covered in empties, the whole group discovered Michael wasn’t going to let it lie.
“I wouldn’t trust this one. Javier and I had to get our orders fixed because she forgot them.”
“It was just the bacon, man. It was super extra.”
Charlie tried to settle the matter, “Let’s just order and—”
“No way!” Michael put his foot down. “You’re an out-of-towner, high-roller looking for a good afternoon out. It’s not fair you get a bad impression of us and our town.”
Tegan just stood there with her tray full of empties, realization dawning that she was the topic of discussion. Gwen could see the same look of nervousness on her face as earlier in the exam. Fear, indecision, insecurity. She was entirely adrift and at the whims of others.
“Here we’ll have a—” Charlie tried again while Tegan was trying to tune out Michael, but he was relentless.
“I think we would prefer a real waiter,” he smiled thinly, “so that we don’t get any more mixups. You have a bit of a reputation for your little scatterbrain, no?”
The shock on the waitress’ face was too much…
“Leave her alone! Don’t you see she’s just trying her best?!”
Gwen felt the words coming out of her before she could tame them, and Faith and Cristina looked at her shocked, repulsed even. Michael was taken aback and ready to redirect his ire her way, but it was Charlie who broke the silence.
“You should mind your tongue, honey. We didn’t ask you.”
His words were gentle but firm, and even as her date touched her lap gently, Gwen felt quite firmly put in her place.
“You said it.” Micheal grinned, but Charlie wouldn’t let him get too smug.
“And so should you. Gwen isn’t even half-wrong.”
“Listen, you’re the poacher coming into our school on the last day to scout for wives, right? I was fine not getting into it, but—”
“That’s enough.” Charlie asserted through gritted teeth. “You’re just a kid who has zero idea what’s actually going on here.”
This was the first time Gwen had seen him not in control of the situation, and while that was new, the danger of a ‘poacher’ was not. At worst it was a man who seduced or simply grabbed unmarried girls, took them out of state, and wed them without family approval, something that was increasingly hard to annul, especially if the man had his way with her. At best it was a vulture swooping in right as girls came of age to charm the family and make promises he couldn’t keep just to find a wife when his own reputation back home was irrecoverable.
For obvious reasons, the word looped in Gwen’s head even as the two men bickered enough that by the time Clive had lumbered over to take the order, Charlie could only thank him politely and say the two of them would be leaving.
If you enjoy this alternate history and its skewed lens, go read the original series, Thorns and Roses by CelestialSecrets’!