Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [91]
Asha thought back on the prom night she’d witnessed through Laura’s eyes, recalling how Laura had hunted for Junior to take her home after she fought with Tommy. It was so strange, to already know the pieces of the past of which Melvin spoke, see them so vividly in her mind. Laura Valmont’s memories were now hers.
“She didn’t socialize much, just followed Tommy around all the time.” Melvin’s eyes shifted uneasily to the jukebox. “They used to come here a lot, played that thing all the time and slow-danced in the aisles, like all the kids did back then. The Windmill and the old skate rink were about the only places for young people to hang out.”
Asha watched the Wurlitzer, which sedately played the beautiful “Greenfields” by The Brothers Four, almost expecting it to switch in mid-song to Ray Peterson crooning about Tommy and Laura. She muttered under her breath, “Yeah, damn machine is being good now—Colin is running around with a screwdriver.”
She shivered when the song hit the lyrics, “We were the lovers, who strolled those greenfields.” Turning her attention back to Melvin, she asked. “What happened to them?”
The man made a sour face, clearly uneasy with the subject. He shrugged. “Died.”
Asha felt as if she’d taken a hard blow to her heart, all the sadness she’d experienced at the skating rink returning tenfold. For some reason, Laura’s ghost was touching her life, showing her the past. It made her grasp the back of the booth to steady herself. “Died? How?”
“That’s right—you didn’t grow up around here, did you? Maybe you’d better ask those who know more about them. There’s one or two around,” he said cryptically.
“Melvin, I’ll have Sam double the filè powder in your gumbo Thursday night,” she threatened.
“People around here respect the dead, give them their rights. You don’t speak of those who died violently. It calls them back, holds them here when they need to move on.” Clearly uncomfortable, he checked his watch. “I need to get to work. I’ll let you know about my brother-in-law, if he’d be interested in that job replacing the ceiling tiles. Can I get my ticket?”
Asha nodded and went to the front to check him out. Melvin’s reaction bothered her, but she didn’t push. He picked up his usual peppermint from the bowl by the register and unwrapped the cellophane. Popping it into his mouth, he then scooped up his change and stuck the coins in his pants pocket. His gray eyes showed regret. He hesitated before going to the door.
“Look, it ain’t a memory I use for gossip,” he offered as a reason for his behavior.
She nodded, understanding more than he’d ever know. “I wasn’t gossiping. I’m truly interested in what happened to them.”
Melvin shot another fleeting glare at the Wurlitzer. “Yeah, guess you have cause. They were two nice people, very much in love, and died tragically. A car crash out on the old river road, along that dangerous stretch back before they put in the bypass and the new bridge. Tommy evidently crossed the centerline, trying to pass a cement truck, and too late saw a semi bearing down. He swerved, judging from the tracks on the road, but the Peterbilt smashed into the Mustang’s side, killing Laura instantly. I didn’t see it happen, just came up minutes later. Tommy was alive for a few moments when we reached him. The steering wheel shoved half into his chest, he was holding her hand and trying to call her name. It wasn’t pretty, Asha.” Tears filled his eyes. “To this day I’ll never forget those poor people. They should’ve had a good life, had grandkids by now. I didn’t know them all that well, but coming upon that wreck left deep scars in me. Taught me the value of each day, you know. Sometimes life just ain’t fair.”
Netta waltzed in through the front door as Melvin departed. He barely muttered a hello to her before rushing out. She lifted her brows, shrugged and came around the counter with her shopping bags.
“Melvin seemed upset. Anything happen? La Jukebox from