The Sublime Secret

Chapter 21
Once outside, under the pockmarked moon, Polly puzzled over Uncle Gunter’s earlier mood swing, concerning her father. While walking on Cross Road, she wondered why he had seemed to undergo a change when learning of her father’s upcoming visit. People said women were moody and unpredictable, but here was an example of a mercurial man. They were right in her case, because she had changed her mind in the past, and would do it again in a minute if
it were warranted.
I can’t wait to find out the reason for his mood swing, she thought, heading for the Richardson estate.
The street was dark and deserted. Apprehensively, she eyed the western hills, fearing the rare sight of a coyote, one of those shadowy figures slinking by the hillside. The night was growing colder. A biting breeze was blowing in from the creek.
Approaching the gate, she discovered the iron doors were closed. Her hand clamped onto the metal bars and pushed to gain entrance. The barrier was locked and the key gone! Just then the strident cry of a whippoorwill broke the night’s silence, scaring her. She felt a momentary stab of concern.
Is a criminal lurking somewhere in the gloom?
Impossible! she admonished herself. There had to be a logical explanation for this strange occurrence. Beginning to shiver, she decided to use the eastern gate. Then she heard what sounded like footsteps inside the property.
Swinging her head toward the darkened yard, she saw someone moving, and became frightened. Whoever it was, emerged from the dark into a small patch of moonlight. In an instant, she dropped the basket and sprinted toward the other gate to the east.
“Trying to enter, missy?” a familiar, somewhat slurred voice sounded behind her.
She wheeled around. “Oh, it’s you, Bark. You scared me for a moment. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”
Barker stood at the iron door with the walking stick under his arm, holding a large key. “I could ask the same of you. Shouldn’t you be resting because of your headache, rather than engaging in an escapade?”
Barker’s words gave pause. She wasn’t sure whether he was inebriated, angry, or simply trying to be humorous. “Oh, my head doesn’t hurt that badly.”
“Nevertheless, I think you owe me an explanation.” Barker inserted the large key into the lock. “You didn’t dance with me.”
“Owe you an explanation for not dancing with you? The spins were too much for my headache, but I certainly can walk.”
Barker turned the key, but didn’t open the iron door. “Let’s just say you were not honest with me.”
Polly tightened her shawl around her shoulders. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Bark. Can we discuss this tomorrow, please?”
Barker stiffened. “We’ll talk tonight.”
“Please, Bark. You’re becoming insufferable. Why did you lock the gate, anyway?”
Barker angled the door a little, positioning himself in the gap between the iron bars. “At Mount Moses you didn’t answer me when I asked if you had a fiancé. Now I catch you returning from a tryst after lying to everyone that you were not well. Who is the fortunate chap? Edgar?”
Polly became indignant. “Those drinks you had certainly affected your senses. I suggest you go to bed, where you belong.”
“No! Not until you talk to me. Where have you been? Where is he? Just tell me the truth, and I shall go home.”
Polly pushed at the gate, but Barker put his weight against it, blocking her entrance. “You have no right to stop me from entering my family’s property or to interrogate me,” she scolded.
“I’ll be frank. I’ve been attracted to you since our first meeting.”
Polly gave a cynical laugh. “Perhaps alcohol has exaggerated your feelings.”
“Maybe, but you’ve been particularly cruel to me, Pollo. Even tonight you didn’t want me to stand next to you at the sink while washing dishes, and then you danced with everyone, but not with me. Aren’t those the facts?”
“Mr. Barker Cunningham, I don’t have to explain anything to you. Before you embarrass yourself further, let me in, or I’ll go to the other gate.”
Barker softened his resistance. Polly spun half the iron door open and walked through.
“Just a minute,” said Barker, fingers curled into the inside of her elbow. He held on to Polly’s arm so awkwardly he almost fell, along with her. “You don’t have to tell me who your fiancé is, Pollo. Just don’t toy with me, and acknowledge you do have one. This way I can go on with my life, and you no longer have to be cruel to me.”
“Let go of my arm!”
“Not until you quit deceiving me.”
“I shall scream!”
Barker released Polly’s forearm. He gripped her fingers as she struggled to get away.
The sound of running feet was heard. A tall, strapping figure hurtled into view, coming from the side, as Barker reared back with a sudden jerk.
“What’s going on?” the figure demanded.
Barker flinched. “Well now, if it isn’t our privileged provincial, armed with a shillelagh, coming to the rescue of his damsel in distress.”
The moon was high enough over the hills to reflect its feeble light on J.D.’s fuming expression. “I may be country. Yet, I do not condone harassing young ladies.” He gripped the stick strapped to his waist.
“I can't believe I had changed my mind about you,” said Barker with a reproving countenance. “I can see now you’re just like the other hillbillies looking for a brawl.”
“Please, no fighting!” entreated Polly.
Turning to her, Barker said, “Now we know the truth, don’t we? Your father will be pleased to find out you have been offering your favors on Christmas Eve to a farmer. How dare you prefer a redneck over me!”
J.D. stepped closer to Barker and said calmly, “You know, you annoy me. Did ya think I would take a citified namby-pamby seriously?”
Polly was appalled at the dispute, but before she could comment, Barker questioned, “Namby-pamby? Indeed, you’re just like all the other whiskey-guzzling rednecks itching for a fight.”
Immediately, Barker swung his walking stick at J.D.’s head.
The teacher grabbed it with his hand. “Hold it!” he shouted. “You’re drunk and don’t know what you’re doing. You’ve got it all wrong. There’s no reason for ya to be ugly to Polly.” He took a deep breath. “Go home to bed, please! The pillow is a great counselor. We’ll talk it over in the morning.”
“We’ll settle this now!” replied Barker heatedly. “The contents of my stomach have been purged. I feel up to it.”
“All right, then.”
Frustrated, Polly darted away from the gate toward the mansion, but then halted and gave the two a thoroughly disgusted look. “Please! Stop it! Both of you! I don’t want to be harassed, but I have no need to be defended, either.”
Barker clicked the handle of the walking stick and removed the modified foil, leaving J.D. holding the outer shell, mouth open. “You asked for it, country hick!”