“Yes,” Frank said, keeping his voice low. “It’s about John Lawrence. He’s not who he says he is. His real name is John Lawrence Robinson.”
Pearl didn’t really see the distinction. “So he doesn’t use his last name?”
“No, and this is why he hides behind a different name . . .” Frank leaned in so close, she could smell coffee on his breath. “His father is a murderer—killed a man in cold blood. He’s in prison for life and will never get out. Everyone in Gladly Falls knows about it.”
“No!” Her hand flew to her mouth. How scandalous! Pearl didn’t know of anyone who’d committed a major crime, and killing someone was the worst of all. “His father is a murderer? Are you sure?”
Frank nodded. “I got a letter from my uncle who lives there. I wrote him and asked what he knew about John Lawrence, and when he wrote back, boy, did I find out a lot of dirt. John’s father killed a man when he was just a baby, and ever since, John and his mother have been working as servants. And here he’s acting all high and mighty, like he’s better than me.”
“I just can’t believe it.” Pearl wondered if her father knew. Would he have hired him if he did? Maybe. Her father didn’t believe in casting judgment, and John wasn’t guilty of murder just because his father had killed someone. Her father was always willing to give people a chance.
“It gets worse,” Frank said, his face clouding. “John is a damn Negro.”
“No.”
“Yes, he is. My uncle said so. If I see him go anywhere near Alice, I’m going to beat him so hard, he won’t be able to walk. I can’t believe he’s been passing himself off as one of us. The nerve!”
“That can’t be true,” protested Pearl. “His skin is as light as yours or mine.”
“Sometimes they come out that way. It was his father’s granddad who was a darkie, and you know what they say. No matter what you do, that stain never comes out.”
“That’s just talk,” Pearl said. “People say things all the time. That doesn’t mean it’s true. Someone probably just made the whole thing up.” She knew herself how stories grew from the smallest of things. How many times had it been gossiped that she was a bit loose with the boys when she hadn’t done much of anything yet?
“No.” He squeezed her elbow. “It’s true, and I’ll prove it. Let’s go to the mill right now and ask him. I’ll ask him right to his face and make him tell the truth. He’s going to have to confess, and once that gets out, your father will send him on his way. We don’t want that kind of garbage in our town.”
Pearl shook her head. “No, don’t do it now.” The timing was all wrong. John was supposed to drive her and Alice to the Barn Dance, something she was looking forward to. For the first time, they’d be at a social event unaccompanied by their father. She’d heard, of course, that Mrs. Donohue would be keeping an eye on them, which was perfect, because Mrs. Donohue didn’t have the best eyesight. Even more than that, most of her attention would be on her own son, Howie. It would be easy enough to slip away from her watchful eye, almost as if they weren’t chaperoned at all. If Frank ran John out of town now, it would ruin everything. “Do it at the Barn Dance in front of Alice. That’s the only way she’ll believe it.”
“That’s days away,” Frank said with a frown. “What if he gets his paws on Alice before then? The idea makes me sick.”
“Oh, Frank,” Pearl said, her tone matter-of-fact and reassuring. “You know how Alice is. She can’t help herself. She’s such a lady. She’s not about to do a single thing with any man unless she’s engaged, and you know that’s not going to happen. My father would never allow it. Alice will be fine until the Barn Dance. You have my word.”
“I’m not sure I can wait.”
Pearl was good at making men wait. “You can and you will, Frank.” She leaned in close and gestured for him to lower his face to hers. When he did, she brushed her lips against his cheek and softly said, “I promise I will keep Alice away from John, and you need to promise me that you’ll wait. It will make a better impression if you do it in front of the crowd at the Barn Dance. Doing it now at the mill, you’ll only have old men as witnesses.”
He hesitated, and she added an enticement. “It will be more of a scene if you bring your revolver and wave it at him. You can run him out of town.” She knew Frank was proud of the .44 Colt that had once belonged to his grandfather.