Demanding Answers
When Hope opened the door to the doctor’s office, she could hear the older woman crying in the back room, and Doc was telling Lluvia what medicine to give her to calm her down. A younger woman stood in the hall, wringing her hands, and Hope imagined this must be her daughter. She didn’t seem to notice Hope standing there, and she didn’t say anything because she suddenly felt like an intruder. A moment later, she heard Nicholas say, “There you go, Sal. Take some deep breaths, and that’ll help with the pain.” She didn’t know for sure what he’d given her but imagined it might’ve been morphine or heroin.
Deciding there wasn’t much she could do, Hope backed out the door. It might’ve been stifling hot, but at least no one was screaming here. She looked across the square toward the general store and decided she’d go ahead and pay Mr. Stamine a visit. Never would she have imagined it would’ve been so difficult to get two dozen slates for her students, but every time she went in there, he gave her some other excuse as to why they had yet to be delivered. At this rate, it would be next fall before they arrived—if she was lucky.
There was only one other customer inside when Hope pushed through the door. The scent of assorted candy wafted through the air, and she imagined all the chocolate would soon be in a pool on the floor. Her students were lucky to have so many choices. Between here, the pharmacy, and the grocer, there had to be two dozen different kinds of sweets available. There were all kinds of interesting wares in the five-and-dime, and Hope could’ve gotten distracted by anything related at all to school, so she kept her eyes focused and headed straight to the counter.
Mr. Stamine was speaking to a woman Hope recognized from church, though she couldn’t recall her name. The conversation had to do with their grown children, and Hope realized at least two minutes into the conversation that Mr. Stamine was avoiding her. She heard the door open and close a few times behind her, only turning her head when she heard a child’s voice, but the little boy was too young to be her student. He held his mother’s hand and didn’t stray to the toy trucks he was pointing at. Hope turned back around and cleared her voice.
“Well, I best be headed home,” the woman finally said, giving Hope a smile, even though the teacher had a feeling the look of annoyance in her eyes was a more fitting reaction to her butting in.
“All right, Mrs. Harris. Have a good evening!” Mr. Stamine called, looking past Hope at his other customers, looking for an escape.
She wouldn’t give it to him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Stamine. Any word?”
“Ah, Miss Tucker! How are you today? I bet your students kept you busy. You must be tired.”
“I am, Mr. Stamine, thank you. I am headed home right now. I just wanted to know if you’d heard anything about the slates. I need them, you know.”
“I know, Miss Tucker. I remember you saying so. Often. I’m sorry, I don’t have any update for you.”
Hope was frustrated, not only at their lack of progress but the fact that he was clearly putting her off. “But Mr. Stamine, surely you can send a telegram and inquire about their location. It’s been months.”
“This is Texas, Miss Tucker. It takes forever for anything to get here.”
“Then how come the primers Mr. Canton requested arrived within a month? You don’t seem to have any trouble receiving any of your other items.”
“Miss Tucker, calm down,” Mr. Stamine said, raising his hands up in front of him. He took a deep breath, and Hope noticed a shift in his expression as he glanced over her shoulder. She was fuming now, not appreciating being told to calm down and didn’t glance behind her. “They’ll get here when they get here.”
She pressed her lips together, folding her arms around the books she carried, her lunch pail still in her hand. “Did you even order them?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” he said too quickly. “I ordered them just like Mr. Stewart asked me to.”
“Did he ask you to?”
“Why in the world would you think otherwise?” Mr. Stamine stammered. There was something about the look in his beady eyes that made her think he wasn’t being honest.
“Fine, Mr. Stamine. I hope you’re truly doing everything you can to get me those slates because there are lots of students waiting for them. I cannot teach to the best of my ability without them. We are talking about the future of our community, you know?”
“Yes, yes, Miss Tucker, I understand,” Mr. Stamine replied, waving her away. “I’ll check on them again for you.”
Hope glared at him, deciding he must be finished, and she didn’t know what else to say. She turned around in a huff and almost collided with Judah, not even realizing he’d been standing behind her. No wonder Mr. Stamine’s eyes kept twitching. She looked up at him, surprised, but still angry at Mr. Stamine and the town he represented. “Pardon me, Mr. Lawless,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder and daring Mr. Stamine to say anything about her addressing the town outlaw.
“Are you all right, Miss Tucker?” Judah asked, his eyes also flickering between her face and the store keep.
“I’m fine, thank you. Just frustrated. Have a nice evening.” She stepped around him and proceeded outside. Since she no longer had a ride home, she headed out on foot toward the Howards’ place, thinking the walk might be good for her anyway. It wouldn’t hurt for her to walk off some of the aggression she was feeling after her discussion with Mr. Stamine.
She hadn’t even made it past the next shop door when she heard Judah shouting her name. Part of her wanted to ignore him and keep walking, knowing it wouldn’t be good for either of them to be seen speaking to each other on the square. But he’d stayed away from her for over two months, so she figured there must be some reason he was hollering for her now. She stopped and slowly turned to face him, just as he caught up to her.
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