When Will the Dead Lady Sing? Read Online Free PDF Page B

to be there.”
    “I thought that was for Lance Bullock.” She stopped so suddenly that I took two steps ahead before I noticed. She was standing dead in the track, hands on her hips. “It wasn’t Burlin Bullock you dated, was it?”
    “For a little while. And you know how Joe Riddley admires him.”
    I didn’t mind watching my stock go up in her eyes. However, that didn’t last long. Martha is nothing if not a realist. “He’s probably forgotten all about it by now. He may not even remember your name.” She marched on. I had to nearly run to catch up this time.
    “He came by the house this morning to see me,” I said, miffed both at what she’d said and at being left behind.
    She raised her eyebrows. “What did Pop say to that?”
    “Nothing. We talked out in the yard. But I don’t want Joe Riddley getting any ideas.”
    “Getting jealous, you mean. Burlin Bullock’s a mighty handsome man. I might have cheated on Ridd if somebody that good-looking had asked me out.”
    “No, you wouldn’t. You’re nicer than me. But he was handsome back then, too. Girls swooned whenever he swaggered by and thought up all sorts of reasons to talk to him.”
    “Including you.”
    “Not at all. The only two words I ever said to him before he asked me to a football game were ‘You’re wrong.’ He’d given a report in history—we had class together—and claimed the Confederate treasury wound up near Macon. I set the class straight that it is supposed to be buried somewhere around here.”
    “And he asked you out after that?”
    “Probably because of it. He wasn’t used to people correcting him. I was a novelty.”
    I hadn’t planned on telling her about Burlin, but I’d never discussed him with a single soul since my sorority sisters, which seemed like a hundred years ago. Now, the story poured out like somebody had wound me up and pressed the “on” button.
    “After the next class, he sauntered up and said, ‘You got a date for the football game this Saturday? Because if you don’t, I’ve got an extra ticket that’s got your name written all over it.’ I said, ‘Who’s been writing on your ticket?’ and he said, ‘I wrote on the ticket. I’ve been scribbling all over it while I worked up my courage to ask you. Will you come?’ I don’t know which of us was more surprised when I said, ‘I guess so.’ ”
    “Smooth.” Martha tugged my arm. “Keep talking, but walk faster.”
    “Slave driver,” I muttered. “But Burlin was the smooth one, not me. I was flustered. I was twenty years old and had never been asked for a date. Can you believe that? Joe Riddley always said something romantic like, ‘I’ll pick you up at seven for the prom. Be ready, now.’”
    Martha gave a gurgle of laughter. “I can just hear him.”
    While she was waving and calling to another walker who passed us, I was remembering what Burlin said on our way out the door after class. “I thought you were engaged to that tall drink of water with the dark hair and the smoldering eyes, but I don’t see a ring, and I haven’t seen him around lately.”
    To my eternal shame, I replied, “Oh, he’s just a friend from home.”
    “Earth to Mac. Come in Mac,” said Martha. “You’re still mooning over Burlin Bullock.”
    “I never mooned! In fact, I figured he asked me that first time because he’d wanted to take somebody else and she couldn’t go. I told myself it wasn’t exactly a real date—we were merely going together to enjoy the game.”
    “That’s one way to assuage guilt. But because you didn’t swoon all over him, he figured you were playing hard to get, which piqued his interest even more, right?”
    “You are too smart to live. Of course, I didn’t take time to analyze it back then—life simply happened. But Burlin had no way of knowing I was totally unfamiliar with the dating game. Heck, I didn’t know how to play hard to get—or anything else.”
    “So, how many times did you go out?”
    “That