But Guyla Belle had begged for the library material, and I’d promised her. And didn’t Miss Foster say it was my job, my duty to get the books into the hands of all readers? Would she fire me if she found out I didn’t? I recalled some of the difficulties Mama said she’d faced with folk when trying to deliver books. Some of them were downright dangerous. Still, she stuck with it, determined to grow readers.
I sucked in a weary breath, promising myself to be more cautious and watch for Guyla Belle’s dairy bottle.
Inside the store, I waited at the counter for change, staring up at the hanging metal advertisement of the glamorous movie star, Hedy Lamarr, touting an RC tastes best! sign nearly naked belly in her blue Bardot two-piece dress.
I sneaked glances of Gillis through the store windows, watching him linger around the men like he was waiting on someone. I rubbed my tender head and rummaged through a display box of wooden spin tops, admiring the colorful toys. A minute later, Francis appeared, his face red and an eye beginning to swell, a dab of orange Mercurochrome dotting a cut down his cheek.
“Honey,” Francis said, not looking at me directly, “what can I get you today?” He picked up a wooden top and dropped it back inside the box. “The spinners are a nickel a piece.”
“I’m glad you’re okay, Francis.”
His face reddened. “Sorry you had to see that, Honey, but men like Gillis have to be dealt with or they’ll keep hurting women. The men said the book woman kicked the glass away from Perry Gillis. Thanks for your help.”
I nodded, embarrassed, gingerly touching my sore head.
“What can I get ya?”
Slipping off a glove, I tucked loose hair behind my ears and pulled out a dollar from my coat. “I’m needing change for the pay phone.”
He glanced at my blue hand a second, then opened the cash register. Quietly, he counted out mostly nickels and a few dimes and placed them in my waiting palm, his touch lingering, my hands drenched in blue.
I snatched back my hand and dared to look up at him, pulling back on the glove. But his eyes were warm and welcoming. Jingling the coins, I looked around and behind me, leaned over the counter and whispered, “How do I use it, Francis?”
“Huh?”
“Never used a pay telephone before.” I felt my face flush hotly from embarrassment and added, “Never saw the need to until now.”
Amusement lit across his eyes, and he called out to someone named Eddie. “Watch the counter while I help her in the back.” Francis came out from behind the counter and walked me toward the telephone booth that sat in the corner at the end of the store.
He opened the wooden booth’s glass door and stepped in, urging me to do the same. “Okay, here’s how it works,” he said, standing shoulder to shoulder with me.
My face warmed. Besides the playful tussles with Carter and his brothers when we were young, I had never been this close to a young man before. And the pleasantly odd, swirling scent of boy was dizzying as I tried to curve my shoulders to make room.
“Ya pick up this receiver here like this and then put a nickel in the far-right slot. Right here, Honey. Then dial the rotary. Telephone book is on the tray here.” He raised a finger over the numbers, pretending to turn clockwise, then inserted a fingertip into the circles, spinning the rotary. Again he spun his finger over the dials. “If ya don’t have a number, the operator will get it for you,” he said.
I looked down, feeling silly. “Op-er-ator?” I said the word slow, stretching the syllables.
“Right here, just dial 0 for operator.” He went through the motions again.
I nodded. “Much obliged for your help, Francis, but can you wait outside in case I need you?”
“Sure thing, Honey.” He squeezed past me and stepped out, his face just as flushed as I knew mine must be.