8 Those That Never Sing

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Chapter Seven

Noblesse Oblige

Ind epend ence Day, 1917

She did not know whether the sound of baby Maxine¶s gurgling brought her to drowsy

consciousness or if it was the morning sun warming her eyelids, but as she awoke, Kathryn

Holmes, née Kitty Holland, felt herself wrapped in a blanket of good fortune. She had become

Mrs. William G. Holmes, her dreams of a year ago fulfilled by a vow that she and her husband

would love and honor each other forever. Warmth emanated from his body in the bed beside

her. Like a cat awakening from a nap in the shadow after the sun passes, she stretched from the

tip of her toes to the ends of her fingers and smiled. The bed springs sang out of tune, shifting as



she sat up on the edge to face Maxine, fully awake and grabbing one foot with both hands while

drool glistened down the side of her cheek and into the creases of her neck. Wearing nothing

more than her gauzy cotton nightgown, Kitty got up and leaned into the crib. She swept Maxine

up in a fluid gesture and held her above her head, causing the baby to giggle and squirm

enthusiastically, before bringing her close into her embrace. Then she lay back onto the iron bed

beside her husband. She forced her engorged breast over the scooped and ruffled neckline of her

gown, the pale skin of her breast gleaming bluish-white below the surface. Holding her nipple

between her fingers, she nudged it towards the baby¶s lips. Maxine smacked her lips and gazed,

wide-eyed, at breakfast.

Bill became aware of the morning with the movement of the mattress on the noisy

springs and recognized the uselessness of his morning erection when Kitty returned to the bed

with the baby noisily slurping at her. The beauty of mother and child was lost to his head, which

throbbed from too many drinks the night before. He tossed aside the sheet that covered his

nakedness, brought his legs over the opposite side of the bed and sat up, locating yesterday¶s

overalls on the floor beside the bed where he had dropped them the night before. Stepping into

them, he hitched a still-fastened strap over his right shoulder, leaving the other, unfastened strap

to dangle down his backside. Without speaking he arose and walked barefoot from the bedroom

to the kitchen. Kitty watched him leave, otherwise occupied with the baby at her breast.

Leftover coffee waited for Bill on the kitchen stove top. On the table he found a cup with a

brown stain on the bottom and he filled it with the opaque brew. The coffee was cold, but he

took it anyway and stepped onto the stoop where he found the chamber pot, pissed noisily into

the bucket, replaced the lid and walked back into the kitchen. He rolled a smoke and sat at the

kitchen table. When he finished his cigarette and coffee, he put the cup into the kitchen sink and



returned to the bedroom where Kitty held Maxine over her shoulder, waiting for a burp to come.

Kitty¶s breast was still exposed, the ruffle of her gown beneath it, the aureole and nipple moist

and dark.

³When do you think we need to leave?´ Kitty asked. Maxine burped and Kitty rose to

put her back into the cradle. She turned to Bill, adjusting her gown to cover her breast. ³Is there

any hurry?´

³I¶ll have to be down by 8 o¶clock or so to help set up.´ A group of young men Bill

played ball with had volunteered to put together the booths for the Fourth of July Celebration.

Bill and Kitty had rooms in a simple rented house a few blocks from the downtown district. He

would only need to put on shoes and a shirt to be ready to leave.

³Then we have plenty of time to get together, don¶t we, Honey?´ Kitty purred. She

pulled the straps of her nightgown down over her shoulders, but the gown did not fall to the floor

until she pulled the neckline over her breasts. Then she stood completely uncovered in front of

her husband. She stepped over her gown and moved towards him.

³Let¶s not start something we can¶t finish. What if Maxine wakes up again?´

³She¶ll entertain herself. Besides, I saw you making a tent b¶neath the sheet a while ago.

C¶mon, Kid. Give your girl a present this morning.´ She stepped closer to her husband and

pulled his overall strap off his shoulder. Bill caught it with his arm as it fell, but Kit pushed the

bib down his chest and stomach, caressing the trail of hair that fell from his navel, and his

overalls slipped to the floor. She stepped onto the puddle of denim and brought her arms up

around his back, paying particular attention to the angles the muscles carved into his sides.

Bill submitted, though he felt nothing much more than pity for this woman whom he had

married scarcely a month before to give their child his name. That Kitty loved him was plainly



apparent. She believed she could love him enough for both of them, that she could love him into

loving her. But in the first month of their marriage, Bill¶s emotional responses to Kitty ranged

from benign to hostile. He resented her now for the trap he felt caught up in. The only salvation

to this arrangement slept in a cradle beside their marriage bed. The little baby girl captivated

Bill, whose dark auburn brown hair and black eyes were clearly his own.

Later, Bill carried Maxine while he and Kitty went down to Main Street to gawk with a

throng of onlookers as the Fourth of July parade passed by. Men in shirtsleeves wearing straw

hats and suspenders held the arms of women in long dresses and button shoes and extravagant

hats wrapped in yards of white tulle. Youngsters played peek-a-boo, hiding behind their daddy¶s

legs. Some sat atop their father¶s shoulders while older brothers in knickers and hose chased

girls in pinafores to try to pull their braids. The RenoCountyHigh School band marched in the

front, playing brassy and loud. A Ford truck followed, festooned with red, white and blue

buntings. On the back of the truck bed, in heavy wooden chairs, sat a few old men, veterans of

the Civil War. They looked uncomfortable, some in old Union uniforms, white hair and white

beards glowing in the late morning sun. Behind them marched veterans of the Spanish American

War. Middle-aged men now, they had stories of yellow fever and survival in Teddy¶s Rough

Riders. They received a scattering of applause from the crowd as they marched by in uneven

rank and file, out of step. The Mayor of Hutchinson and his wife rode in the back seat of an

open touring car driven by the local Buick dealer. More cars carried the legislative delegation to

the Statehouse, each of whom smiled widely and waived at their constituents. Members of the



Women¶s Christian Temperance Union marched in front of the Ku Klux Klan, which marched in

front of the delegation of Women¶s Suffragettes. At the back of the parade, men on horseback

cantered their horses that sometimes left round green road apples in their wake.

After the parade Kitty walked with Bill to the park. He carried the baby, she a blanket

and a picnic lunch in a wicker basket. Booths had been set up around the perimeter of the park.

Church women offered bake sales and a cakewalk. Some groups offered musical chairs, from

which the winner carried off a crisp fruit pie. Bill did not enter the pie-eating contest in favor of

a baseball game that afternoon in which he would play. The crowd was large and amiable. By

noontime, the smoke from the barbecue pit where plump pigs had turned on a spit since before

dawn gave up a feast for all present. While the hoi polloi shared and ate homemade food, groups

of men formed barber shop quartets and took turns singing songs in four-part harmony. Children

ran off to play games, mostly tag and stickball.

After finishing their meal, Bill left Kitty with Maxine on a bench in the shade of an

ancient tree. He wanted to watch a three-legged sack race organized on the grassy pike that ran

the length of the park. Teams formed consisting of young men and women in pairs. The women

hiked up their skirts to plunge a stockinged leg into a burlap feed sack with the trousered leg of

their partners. The whole idea shocked the Baptist women, who stood apart but watched,

disapprovingly. Standing on the sidelines Bill recognized a familiar voice.

³Got a partner for the race, yet, Stranger?´

It was Rosa. They had not seen each other in months. Radiant in white, her ginger hair

glistened in the midday sun, piled up in a knot at the top of her head. She held a stylish, if not

fully functional parasol that shaded her blue eyes. Bill was tongue-tied.



³Cat got your tongue? Better hurry, or we¶ll be late. C¶mon! What do we have to

lose?´

Bill fell in behind her, dumbstruck. She walked on her heels to the starting area,

expecting him to follow, and he did. They found a good gunny sack and Rosa put her hand on

his shoulder as she modestly stepped into it, exposing her silk-stockinged leg in the process. He

pulled the sack up the inside of his leg and together they held it up with their outside hands as

they wrapped their inside arms around each other¶s waists. Then they took tentative practice

steps to learn their rhythm in preparation for the race.

³What are we doing, Rosa, I¶m a married man, you know.´

³So I hear. How¶s married life treating you?´

³Well, it¶s an adjustment and all.´ Bill did poorly masking his disappointment at his

circumstances. They continued walking, three leggedly, in circles behind the starting area,

picking up their pace gradually. ³What about you, Rosa? Anyone in your life?´

³None but you, Bill Holmes. Never has been none but you.´ Bill flushed at her candid

and inappropriate admission. He wondered what had prompted her to be so forward and what

people who saw them together might think. But suddenly he did not care if their presence

together offended anyone. The moment was too sweet.

The announcer called the teams to the starting line. Bill and Rosa hobbled

enthusiastically to the front of the crowd.

³On yer mark,´ the announcer cried. ³Get set « GO!´ The racers ran to and from a

tree about 25 yards ahead.

Hearing the hubbub from the race, Kitty craned her neck unsuccessfully to see. She

carried Maxine to the sidelines and watched. Caught up in the enthusiasm, she looked for Bill in



the crowd first, and then saw him among the participants. To her horror, Kitty recognized Rosa

Kelley arm in arm with her husband. She stood silently, mouth agape watching the racers as

they passed heading for the finish line.

Meanwhile, Bill did his best to stay in pace with Rosa, oblivious to everything but the

tiny waist his arm circled and the well-formed leg that shared the gunny-sack with his. Rosa¶s

hand clutched her partner¶s side as they strained to gain the lead in the race. They laughed at the

foolishness of their struggle and their coordination failed. Rosa geed as Bill hawed and they fell

together into the grass. She rolled over him, her petticoats flying immodestly as the pair came to

rest on their backs, laughing out loud, their arms still around each other¶s waists. Bill rose and

gallantly offered Rosa his hand, which she accepted as their eyes met. For that moment in the

summer sun they were completely alone. They might as well have been in the pasture dell ten

years before. They said nothing, but their intentions were finally known, each to the other.

Kit turned and walked back towards the bench, clutching her baby. Her eyes welled with

tears as she gathered their things and began the walk home, one arm wrapped around Maxine,

who rode on her hip, the other arm over-burdened with their picnic basket and the blanket.

Rosa had moved to Hutchinson to take employment at Pegues-Wright Dry Goods Store

on Main Street. The pay included rooms above the store in which she had set up housekeeping

by herself. The Kelleys saw their daughter becoming a spinster if she remained in Langdon.

They hoped she would find greater opportunities in the county seat, primary among which, a

husband. A good Catholic man. It was dangerous for a single woman to live alone in the city.



Not so much physical danger, but greater the danger to her reputation. She could not be too

discreet about the ways and circumstances in which she met eligible men. She would have to

rely on introductions from new friends she was only just starting to meet. She had not

encouraged the ³opportunities´ she had with anyone thus far, so gradually the invitations waned.

Her commitment to isolation grew and became more evident to those who knew her. And so her

first year in Hutchinson had been one of acute loneliness. She could not have more blatantly

endorsed the singleness of her life had she entered a convent.

Bumping into Bill on the Fourth of July was pure happenstance. But her decision to take

matters into her own hands was both impulsive and instinctual. The chemistry of their meeting

overwhelmed them both. So when he appeared at the dress shop just before closing two days

later on a Friday afternoon, it was not that her corset was drawn so tightly that she could not

catch her breath: His sudden and totally unexpected presence in her midst became her undoing.

At first she pretended not to notice him. She tried desperately to slow her racing heart, to catch

her breath. He watched her like a lad with no money, standing outside the candy shop. She

bustled about in the shop, where she had been left alone to close for the night. She could not

hold out much longer.

³Well, good evening, Sir. How may I help you this afternoon?´

³Rosa.´ Bill could find no other words as he gazed at her like a schoolboy.

³Something for the little lady?´ She failed to mask a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

³She doesn¶t know I¶m here. I told her I would be out this evening.´

³Did she see us in the park?´

³Yes.´

³That must have been a shock.´



³I¶m afraid so.´

They faced each other, standing quietly in an aisle between two display tables arranged

with ladies delicate things; neither had words to speak. Finally Bill stepped forward and pulled

her against his body, kissing her long and hard. She collapsed into his arms, her skin tingling,

face flushed, and returned his kiss, then stiffened, remembering where she was. She freed

herself and left him standing in the aisle as she walked briskly to the front of the store and

changed the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, pulling the shade and locking the door before

returning. Bill distinctly heard the clack of the bolt as it set into place. She caught Bill¶s hand

and pulled him urgently into the back of the store where they found stairs to her apartment

overhead.

No sooner had the door closed than the two of them became the embodiment of desire.

They wanted each other¶s mouths, and had them. They wanted each other¶s flesh, and their

clothes came off. She wanted this man whom she had always loved, the only man she would

ever love, to take her long-preserved virginity. And he did. They wanted the bed and they had

it. They wanted him to be inside her and he was. And she was inside him as she had always

been, buried deep in his imagination. They made love for hours and forgot about supper, hungry

as they were only for each other. And that love, so long denied and suppressed, was now finally

and completely and unabashedly theirs « if only for this one night.

Deserted streets awaited Bill when he finally left Rosa well after midnight. He walked

the blocks to the little house he shared with his wife and daughter as if he were an invisible night

creature. He saw no one on the street. The only sounds came from the heels of his boots,

echoing from the sidewalk as if inside a cavern. No cars passed; no dogs barked. Only fireflies

twinkled and winked as he found his way home. When he entered through the back door he



removed his shoes and left the house darkened. He heard his wife¶s deep and rhythmic breathing

from the bedroom, but he did not join her there. Instead, he lit a cigarette and collapsed in the

comfortable, overstuffed living room chair. When he finished his smoke, he let himself drift off

to sleep, aching and angry and sad, but buoyant, wondering what he would do now, knowing that

somehow he had to put everything right.

Even after the humiliation of seeing Bill rolling in the grass with Rosa Kelley in front of

the whole town, Kitty refused to give up on her marriage. She took up cleaning and cooking

with a ferocity that passed understanding. She made sure she was clean and fresh when he came

home from work, and she always had a good meal cooked for him. But Bill often either stayed

away or went out after meals and came home after she had fallen asleep, usually with Maxine in

her arms on the bed.

In Hutchinson, the long days of summer drifted in and out. Bill worked at the plant

weekdays and occasionally cut hair at one of the local barbershops on Saturdays. He enjoyed the

comradery of the men who came there, but barely eked out a decent living. He found ways to

surreptitiously be with Rosa a few times a week. Their emotional dependence on each other

grew and deepened. At home, Kitty threw herself at him with every opportunity. But he only

felt disgust for his wife; he stayed away more often now and drank when he could not be with

Rosa.

Together, Bill and Rosa felt much more than just a physical attraction. He did not drink

before, after, or during their times together. They talked about the children they would have



together if he left Kit. She encouraged him to sponsor a baseball league for boys in Hutchinson.

He still wanted to find work that would challenge him and make him proud. She encouraged

him to go to high school. There were night classes for adults who wanted to improve

themselves. And finally they found the satisfaction of physical intimacy that neither had ever

known before, despite their differences in experience. Bill dreamed of seeing Rosa¶s strawberry

blonde hair and fair complexion first thing in the morning when he woke up. Would it ever be so

for them?

By fall Kitty gave up her illusions of a happy home with her husband. She promised

herself to keep up appearances and maintain some semblance of dignity. And so for the next few

months she managed. Then she found a friend in the next door neighbor lady, May Brown, an

older, single woman wizened by marriage and divorce, who sympathized with Kitty¶s plight.

Mrs. Brown came to sit with Kitty on those fall evenings when only darkness came earlier and

stayed later.

³You ought to catch him in what he¶s up to,´ Mrs. Brown advised on one such visit at

the first part of November.

³Why, May, what¶s to catch him at?´ Kitty feigned innocence. ³He¶s only drinking beer

with his friends. I don¶t want to be a nag. He¶ll find his way home.´

³Bah! Men! Find his way home, indeed! You mark my words, Honey, he¶s got a little

something on the side, you ask me. It¶s that shop girl, ain¶t it?´ Mrs. Brown¶s words stung

because Kitty knew that her tactless friend had gotten it right. Tears welled up in Kitty¶s eyes

and overflowed.

³I don¶t know what¶s come over him. She was his childhood sweetheart, before I ever

knew him. But it was all over between them. His mother swore him not to have nothing more to



do with her, ever. Even now there¶s nothing he can do with her that wouldn¶t kill his mama, if

she knew. But I know they¶re carrying on. Oh God, I can feel it.´

³Then catch him and his filthy strumpet and make a clean break of it!´

³And then what? What would I do? « with Maxine and all? How could I be a mother

to Maxine if I drive off her father? How would I raise her on my own?´

³Looks to me like her father¶s already done run hisself off, Sweetie. You¶re not the first

woman¶s ever had to raise the whelp of a wayward man. And who¶s to say that it will come to

that. Don¶t you want him to wake up and remember what he¶s got waiting at home?´

As a result of that conversation, Kitty decided to find out once and for all just what was

going on with Bill on his evenings out of the house. So on a cold afternoon, the week before

Thanksgiving, with Maxine napping and Mrs. Brown ensconced in the apartment reading an old

issue of ³Ladies Home Journal´ and listening for the child, she visited Pegues-Wright, where

Rosa worked. Bill had advised her before leaving that morning not to wait supper for him that

evening, so she had reason to believe that he would be keeping an assignation with his old girl

friend that very night. The wind stirred up the dust and sand on the pavement in front of the

shop and Kitty struggled to open the heavy door. A jingle announced her entrance when she

finally succeeded. Everyone inside looked towards the door as Kitty made her entrance feeling

very self-conscious. She browsed the displays at first, coming to rest at a table stocked with

ladies¶ handkerchiefs and little beaded purses in tidy stacks. Rosa approached Kitty, one

eyebrow raised inquisitively.

³Something I can help you with?´

³Just looking for the moment.´



³We have a table full of handbags on sale.´ Rosa gestured towards a display near the

back of the store.

³I¶ll take a look at them.´

³How¶s the baby? Maxine, isn¶t it?´

³Oh, she¶s a bundle of joy, all right.´

³They change quickly, don¶t they?´ Rosa tried to be cordial, but she felt her face flush.

Was it guilt or anger?

³Every day. Say, Kid, is there a changing room in back where I might try this on?´ Kitty

held up a camisole that might have been near her size a year before. Rosa gestured to an opening

in the back wall covered with heavy drapes the color of evergreen trees. Then she turned her

attention to another customer who carried items she had selected for purchase. Rosa would be

engaged for a few minutes with her buyer while Kitty took the camisole to the back room.

Stepping into the dim back room, Kitty smelled dust and packing boxes before her eyes

adjusted and she observed the layout. A door to the alley anchored the far end of the room; a

dirty, double-hung window gaped on one side. Seizing the opportunity she moved like a shadow

to the rear of the room and opened the lock on the window, lifting it enough to assure it would

not stick. Then she returned to the drapes that separated her from the front of the store, regained

her composure and emerged through the curtains into the shop, still breathing heavily with

anxiety charged by her covert activities in the back. She had not tried on the garment, but

handed it, crumpled, to one of the other shop girls before walking towards the front of the store.

³I¶ll be thinking about that little camisole, Rosa,´ she piped as she reached for the

doorknob a few feet from the cash register. ³And I¶ll be back to see if there¶s anything else I

want, later.´



Rosa looked up from her business with her customer and smiled falsely, nodding in

Kitty¶s direction.

The weather deteriorated though the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Kitty had

soup with Mrs. Brown and tended to Maxine, getting her ready for bed early and rocking her to

sleep before putting her into her little bed and leaving Mrs. Brown in charge. Then she walked

the several blocks to hide herself in the alley behind the dress shop. She shivered in the dark,

pulling the collar of her black wool coat up around her ears, and waited until well past seven

o¶clock. Her feet felt nearly frozen and her hands like ice. Just as she was about to give up and

go home feeling foolish, she heard movement in the alleyway behind the dress shop. She made

out her husband, even in the darkness. He knocked on the door, which Rosa soon opened to

meet him. Kitty waited another fifteen minutes in the cold before making her move. She

approached the sabotaged window like a cat burglar. It did not easily open from the outside, but

she prevailed and stepped up onto an abandoned crate that had been left at the back door.

Though her entrance was neither graceful nor quiet, no one came to investigate the slight noise

she made entering the building. Composing herself once inside, she brushed off her coat and

removed her gloves, flattened her hair, and held her cold hands beneath her armpits for a little

while, reinforcing her determination.

The time had come to find out what was going on in the apartment overhead. As Kitty

felt her heart pounding and heard her own breathing as she climbed the stairs that strained

quietly, making ghostlike noises beneath her feet. From outside the door of Rosa¶s apartment,



she heard the sounds of lovemaking within. She waited a moment longer, fought back tears of

rage and mustered her determination, before grasping the unlocked door knob. Finally, with all

her strength tied into a knot of guts and bile, she turned the knob and opened the door. Rosa¶s

bedroom was only a few steps away, flickering in the light from the coal oil lamps, across a large

room that served as kitchen, dining and living rooms. No one gave notice as she walked across

the room to stand in the door of the bedroom.

Rosa saw her first. She emitted a stifled scream, like a bird caught in the jaws of a

predator, though she did not immediately recognize the intruder. Bill rolled off his lover and

stared at his wife.

³What¶s this? You crazy bitch! Get out of here! Don¶t you know I want nothing to do

with you? GO! Leave!´ Bill leapt up from the bed like a wild predator and came at Kitty with

all his naked fury.

³I¶ll leave, if that¶s what you want,´ Kitty said in a quiet voice, her eyes staring blankly

at nothing and everything in the room.

Bill reached the doorway with his right arm cocked across his chest, ready to slap his

wife. Had he not held his swing, he might have knocked her across the floor to the door. But

Kitty turned and left indignantly, her head held high masking the shame and humiliation she felt

when confronted with the horrible tableau she had just witnessed. When she reached the bottom

of the stairs she did not close the window that had served as her entrance, nor the back door as

she stepped out into the night. She reeled down the alley and flinched when the wind blew the

door shut behind her with a loud, clamorous bang that echoed in the cold air like the report of a

rifle.



In Europe, the winds of war blew across the battlefields in France where the Allies

awaited the arrival of American troops. The American Expeditionary Forces committed by the

President to the European arena would not deploy en masse for another six months. The Yanks

mustered when Congress declared war early in the fall of 1917, but the States were not prepared

for war and the buildup would take time. Meanwhile the armies of Europe continued to pummel

each other with new technologies of death and destruction. Dogfights between dual-winged

aeroplanes had become a new way of conducting warfare. While artists and writers romanticized

these airborne duels and their aces, many pilots died horrible deaths when enemy gunners hit

these primitive planes and they caught fire, plunging to earth. Fighter planes with machine guns

strafed enemy infantry cowering in muddy trenches behind the lines of battle where oversized

rats feasted on the rotting remains of dead soldiers left in the grisly death swamps. The nations

and kingdoms of Europe had long since lost the will to fight, but could not find the nerve to

surrender.

In early December the tensions of war had found their way into the rural heartland. The

draft board in RenoCounty had already stepped up its meetings, and searched out the names of

eligible young men who could serve in the army they would help recruit.

Bill had begun giving military service much thought when, two weeks after

Thanksgiving, six months to the day after he married Kitty Holland in Kansas City, he turned

onto the street that led to her parents¶ home in Turon. Towering black trees loomed at the sides

of the streets. Overhead, stripped of their summer foliage, their limbs poked random fingers at

the grey December sky. He heard the rattle of dry leaves as he pulled his car to a stop in front of



the Hollands¶ two-story white Victorian home, parking under one of those menacing trees whose

shade would not be provided until another season. He had come to see about the undoing of his

marriage by his own hand. He had no illusions about the probability of saving the marriage. He

saw his marriage now only as an arrangement that had given his child her birthright. Still, he felt

uncomfortable as he opened the car door and stepped onto the street. He took a final deep drag

off his cigarette and flicked the butt into the path in front of him. Exhaling heavily, he mashed

the embers of his discarded smoke beneath the sole of his shoe lest its embers ignite the dead

grass and leaves that covered the grounds.

James Monroe Holland met Bill at the door and eyed him with suspicion before letting

him into the house. Once inside, Bill wished he had taken a snort before leaving his car. Kitty

stared across the carpet that covered most of the floor, sitting on a brocade sofa with her mother,

O¶Phelia, on the opposite side of the room. She neither made eye contact nor so much as looked

up to acknowledge his entry. Maxine was nowhere in sight, possibly taking a nap or perhaps in

the care of others lest tempers got out of hand during the meeting. O¶Phelia glared coldly at Bill

as he took off his hat and entered the parlor. She offered no beverage to extend hospitality. No

other family members appeared to be at home. J.M. motioned for Bill to sit and he sat,

tentatively, without touching the back of the chair, like a tomcat poised and ready to leap if

necessary. He held his hat, a charcoal colored fedora, tracing its brim nervously in a circular

motion between his two hands.

J. M. opened, ³I¶m not sure what your intentions are here, son. For the benefit of the

child, Kathryn¶s mother and I think it would be best if the two of you found some way to work

out your differences.´

³I¶m not sure if that would be possible,´ Bill said, quietly.



³Of course you would have to stop seeing that woman and you would certainly have to

curb your appetite for drink.´ It was as if J. M. had not heard Bill¶s initial response.

³I think we should take this arrangement for what it is,´ Bill said, looking from face to

face around the room. Kitty wept into her mother¶s shoulder.

³Mr. Holmes, you know that Kathryn¶s mother and I wanted you to have nothing to do

with our daughter from the beginning. Now you¶ve given her a child and you have some

responsibilities in all this.´

³I don¶t want nothing from him, Papa!´

³Kathryn, mind your tongue,´ her father snapped.

³No!´ She fairly screamed at her father, as if Bill was not in the room. ³Let him go to

blazes with his Catholic whore! I¶ll have no part in it. Bill Holmes no longer exists as far as I¶m

concerned.´

³Kathryn!´ Her mother looked shocked at her daughter¶s curse.

J. M. Holland recognized the futility of any effort that would try to effect a reconciliation

of the two. He admitted to himself that he felt relieved. He had followed Bill Holmes¶ progress

through life and continued to believe that his daughter could do better, even though it would be

difficult with a child in tow.

³Sir, will you then agree to a quiet divorce?´ A quiet divorce meant that both parties

would walk away from the marriage without prejudice. In 1917, a divorce would reflect much

more poorly on the woman who let her man slip through her fingers. The unspoken charge

would be that she had failed in marriage, since a man could do almost nothing that would cause a

marriage to fail. Financially, a wife and child amounted to chattel that could be quietly disposed

of without recourse. Mr. & Mrs. Holland would become the primary providers for Maxine, at



least for now, until their daughter could seek her way in the world alone, mustering whatever

dignity, if any, she could find.

³I know a lawyer who can make the arrangements,´ Bill said.

³What terms are acceptable to you?´

The women in the room had just become invisible. Neither mother nor daughter offered

any terms to the emerging settlement.

³Clean break. No looking back.´

³Kathryn will allow her mother and me to raise the child.´

³I have no objections to that. A child should be with its mother.´

³Then we¶re agreed.´

³Agreed. I guess if there¶s nothing more, I¶ll be on my way.´ He turned to his wife who

stared into her hands, folded in her lap. ³Kitty?´

She did not respond. Bill waited awkwardly as if something more needed to be said, but

he found no words. J. M. rose and guided him towards the front door. He had been in their

home for less than ten minutes and in no more time than that, reached an agreement to terminate

his marriage. He placed his hat back onto his head, pulling it down sportingly to one side, and

glanced at the mirror in the hallway as he walked to the door. Bill extended his right hand to

Kitty¶s father who ignored the gesture as he held the door. Once outside with the door closed

behind him, he heard Kitty wailing on the inside. Bill sighed and returned to his car. Having

agreed in principle to the terms of the arrangement, Bill decided it was time to look to the future.



The future waited for him when he got to the post office on Monday morning. Bill had

registered for the draft six months earlier, in June, two days before his marriage took place. He

had assumed that his marital status would earn him an easy deferral; in fact he doubted that he

would have made the trip to Kansas City under other circumstances. Now, the letter in his hands

ordered him to report for induction within two weeks at the Selective Service office in

Hutchinson, to enlist or show cause why he should not be drafted. Would their ill-begotten

marriage count for anything now?

Thoughts of Rosa had kept Bill preoccupied for the intervening weeks since his wife had

intruded on their tryst at Rosa¶s apartment. Nothing loves life more than a good story, so of

course, word about the love affair had gotten out. Gossip cost Rosa her position at Pegues-

Wright, and her rooms above the store. Her circumstances left Frank and Margaret Kelley

appalled. Rosa did not want to return to Langdon. They did not offer to take her in. A

sympathetic girlfriend from the department store, Della Mae Reese, lent her a spare bedroom and

an ear for her troubles. To help with the rent and to keep body and soul together, Bill gave Rosa

the five dollar gold piece she had handed him when he closed his account at the Langdon State

Bank months before. Alas for Rosa, prospective employers showed little interest in her

application once they found out about her indiscretion, which her former employer, Mr. O. W.

Wright, was not loath to discuss.

Communication between the lovers proved difficult. Above all, no one should see them

in public. Nor could what remained of Rosa¶s reputation stand the risk that someone might see

her entering or leaving his place in Hutchinson. But love could find a way when Rosa¶s

roommate had an assignation of her own. And thankfully for Bill and Rosa those occasions

came, if barely so, often enough. They pledged their love to each other, no matter how long it



took to disentangle themselves from the pickle they found themselves in. Bill would soon

enough have a divorce and after an appropriate time they would marry. Though they still had not

resolved their religious differences, they had found them easy to ignore since the Fourth of July.

Bill had not yet figured out how to sort out that last problem. His mother¶s convictions

had not changed and he doubted that any amount of pleading or cajoling would change them.

For Josie¶s part, she would hold her head up, ignoring the whispers among the members of the

Christian Women¶s Society when she appeared. Nor did she discuss the scandal with her son.

Jonas had brought the story home with him as his Masonic Lodge brother had shared it, so that

he would ³know what¶s going on.´ Josie preferred to ignore what she did not know for certain,

rather than deal with whatever her son might offer in the way of explanation. After all, he had

become a grown man. Would he be of a mind to take her advice if she offered it? And what if

he put himself in the position of outright defying her words of wisdom? No, better to pray and

put a good face on the matter than confront her son and risk alienating his affections for good

and all.

Looking at his summons, Bill wondered whether he could receive a deferment with a

divorce pending. He would have to tell his parents. Would his wife sign an appeal? Or should

he use this opportunity to find a great adventure somewhere on the other side of the civilized

world?

8 Those That Never Sing

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