Pie Town - Lynne Hinton [97]
Trina was disappointed but still determined to go to Amarillo. Just after ten o’clock on Sunday morning, as the townspeople were gathering at the site of the burned church, Trina threw her bag in the backseat of Frank’s car, climbed into the passenger’s side, and closed the door. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.
Frank put the car in reverse and backed out of her driveway. “Nice morning,” he said, and they both glanced up at the sky.
As they headed out of town, they noticed a few people walking on the road, moving in the direction of Holy Family Church. Neither of them spoke of the meeting.
“Did you get breakfast?” Frank asked.
Trina nodded. “I went out awhile yesterday, took a walk, and stopped at the diner and bought some doughnuts.”
“That’s a healthy way to start the day,” Frank responded. “I have some fruit in the cooler.” He reached down and opened the ice chest that sat on the floor between the two of them.
Trina shook her head. “No, I’m good right now,” she said. “Maybe later.”
Frank nodded. He checked the gauges on the car and adjusted the mileage counter. “So, how was your talk with Katie?” he asked. She had told him about the visit when he called to tell her that the trip was to be delayed.
“Fine. She was just trying to ease her conscience, I guess.” She sighed. “She and Rob started the fire.”
Frank nodded. “I figured as much,” he said.
Trina turned to the driver. “Why did you figure as much?” she asked. “I thought everyone in this town thought I started that fire, including you.”
Frank stared straight ahead as he drove. “You never asked me what I thought,” he replied. “In fact, you never struck me as a girl who cared too much about what others thought.”
Trina considered what he said. It was true, she hadn’t asked him. Actually, she hadn’t asked anyone what they thought. And it was true, she hadn’t really cared. She knew what she had done and not done, and what people thought hadn’t concerned her. Not until she had seen the notice stuck in her door. Not until she thought the town was meeting to condemn her, meeting to condemn Roger and anybody who stood up for her.
“Is she planning to tell the group at church?” Frank asked.
Trina shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
The two didn’t speak for a while. Trina watched as they headed farther out of town.
“So, if Katie is going to clear your name, why aren’t you staying?” Frank still did not look in Trina’s direction. He was carefully watching the road.
“My leaving isn’t about having my name cleared,” she replied.
“No?” Frank said.
“No,” Trina answered.
“Then what is your leaving about?” he asked.
Trina glanced over at the driver. “I just don’t belong there,” she replied softly.
Frank then turned and studied Trina. “Well, you’re the first white person to admit that,” he said and smiled.
“Yeah,” she said, “that’s probably about right. Those ranchers around there, they all act like they were the first ones to drive a plow in the fields or walk a horse up Escondido Mountain.”
Frank laughed. “You learned a lot in your short time in Catron County.”
“You don’t have to be here long to recognize arrogance,” she responded.
Frank reached in the cooler and pulled out an apple. He rubbed it on the front of his jacket and took a bite.
“Yeah, I guess white folks have done a lot of taking over of other people’s homes,” she said as she looked out the window. “My granddad used to say human beings were going to have a lot of explaining to do to God on Judgment Day and white folks would be in his office the longest. He was Choctaw.”
Frank took another bite from the apple.