The Pulptress Read Online Free PDF

on her hip, “Been home
lately?”
    Glimmers of sadness haunted
her eyes for a moment, then vanished. “No, not in a while. Too many
messes to clean up.”
    “ Lady P,” Dillon said,
moving his hand from her waist and tenderly touching her chin,
tilting it back ever so slightly with his finger, “the world’s a
messy place. Always has been, always will be. It was for your
folks, and nobody, not even them were they here, would expect you
to tidy it all up alone.” Dillon bent close to her, the doorman
almost falling down the steps craning his neck for the kiss he
expected to see. Dillon lifted the black fedora he’d held, plopped
it lackadaisically on her red hair, and whispered in her ear, “Go
home, Emily. Rest.”
    She smiled at him, leaned
in, climbing up on the tips of her toes, and planted a lingering
peck on his cheek. The doorman slapped his leg hard, his fantasy
frustrated. The Pulptress, her feet flat on the sidewalk now,
stepped back from Dillon. “You know,” she said, “I didn’t need your
help tonight.”
    Dillon appeared caught off
guard. “Who, me?” He offered. “When did I help you?”
    “ In the bar. When the little
guy started to get off your table. The love tap you gave him. I
could have handled whatever he had.”
    “ Of course you could have.
You forget who taught you Kyoshu jitsu. But,” he added, “I do have
to stay in practice. Not all of us can channel Gracie Allen and
fight by pratfall, Lady P.”
    As Dillon turned to cross
the street, the young lady known to many as The Pulptress nodded,
waved, and walked into the Morriston Plaza, already calculating the
fastest way from New York to Arkansas.
     
     
    THE END

 
     
THE PORTRAIT
     
    by Terry Alexander
     
     
    20-December-1945
    The shiny Ford Coupe turned
up the gravel driveway and stopped before a two story house in
Corinth, Mississippi. “Mom, Dad, it’s great to see you.” John
Charles jumped from the seat, waving at his parents waiting on the
huge porch. “There were times these past few years that I didn’t
think I’d make it home,” he called as he headed up the walkway.
Upon reaching the elderly man and woman, he hugged first one, then
the other.
    His mother pulled the apron
up to her eyes, wiping tears away. “Johnny, you don’t know how many
times I prayed for this day to come.”
    “ Was it really as bad over
there as the news reels said?” His father slapped him on the
back.
    “ Dad, it was a lot worse.”
John turned toward the Coupe. “Mom, Dad, You remember Jill Henry
from Jackson, don’t you?”
    A breeze ruffled her short
strawberry red hair as she climbed from the vehicle, her freckled
face lit with a bright smile.
    The older couple nodded. “I
remember her.” His dad stroked his chin. “Aren’t you Bob Henry’s
oldest girl?”
    “ No, Mr. Charles, I’m their
second daughter. Irene is the oldest.”
    “ Jill, these are my parents,
Lorene and Arthur.” A wide smile split John’s face. “I went through
the Capitol on the way here.”
    “ You took the long way.”
Lorene clutched her son’s arm, unwilling to let him go. “We
expected you yesterday.”
    “ Jill and I stopped by the
Justice of the Peace and got married yesterday. I wanted to tell
you personally.” John hurried to his bride’s side.
    “ Wha…” The words died on
Arthur’s tongue. “Why didn’t you write and tell us what you had
planned? We would have found a way to get to Jackson.”
    “ Jill’s letters kept me
going during the war. Getting back to her was all I ever thought
about. I asked her to marry me after the Japs surrendered.” John
held her hand tightly. “She wrote me back and said yes. So I drove
down to see her first thing after I drew my mustering out
pay.”
    Lorene surged forward and
threw her arms around her new daughter-in-law. “Welcome to the
family.” Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “Let’s take Jill in the
house. We’ve got dinner on the stove now.”
    “ You two haven’t