Chapter Six

Later that night, after the last of the guests stumbled their way home, and the doors were locked, a lazy game of billiards started amongst the others. Roland and Neil sat in silence. Neil smoked his cigarette, while Roland seemed deep in thought.

“You two aren’t interested in the game?” Sally smiled at them both as she poured herself a gin rickey. Neil shook his head.

“Not much.”

“I do not care for it, but I play every once in a while.” Roland admitted. “Do you know how to play?”

“No, actually. Might like to learn. One of those things Papa didn’t want to teach me. Said ‘no good vagrants play that game, Sally May.’ Have you met your brother?” Neil raised an eyebrow at her. “He could be classified as the biggest, worst criminal known in Papa’s eyes, but he’s anything but a horrible, worthless human.”

“Prohibition has made criminals of even the most sinless of individuals.” Neil tapped the ash from his cigarette. “We’ve all become something we never thought we’d be-whether it’s otherwise law abiding citizens getting an illegal drink or…”

“Otherwise-good Christians becoming hypocrites?”

“Aren’t they all?” Neil asked. Sally raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Christians are all human. And at some point every person has said or behaved in a way hypocritical to our…values, our beliefs.” Neil took a long drag on his cigarette. “They might be more so, considering they’re trying to be more like Christ, and fail to see how they’ve shot themselves in the foot.”

“It would be the same for anyone, then, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would. But when you’re trying to paint yourself in the image of the holiest man to ever walk the earth, it’s far worse than…”

“Someone like you trying to get by?”

“More or less.” Sally finished her drink. Neil suddenly found himself wanting to continue the conversation.

“You need a ride home doll?” Vinny asked. “I’m headed out that way anyhow.”

“I’ll give her the ride, Vin. If Stew doesn’t approve, I don’t either.”

“Last night you all but kicked me out of your car. Tonight, you wanna be a gentleman?”

“Being a gentleman has nothing to do with it.” Neil got up, and said, “It’s called doing my damn job.”

“Stew got to you, didn’t he?” Vinny asked. Neil ignored him, but he was well aware of the nod Roland was giving beside him.

“You ready?”

“Let me get my things.” Neil nodded, stubbed out his cigarette, and headed to the car. Sally wasn’t too far behind him.

As they drove off, he noticed she was on the quiet side. He figured she was still frustrated with the situation at hand, and not knowing what was what, or who was who. “He’s the gangster that covers most, if not all, of the south side of Chicago.”

“Who?” Sally looked confused. Her mind had not been on earlier conversation, then.

“Al Capone. I know you don’t really know who he is.”

“I…don’t. Worldly news wasn’t really discussed at home.” Her sweet, southern accent was full of annoyance. “Kentucky is home to a lot of good things, food, family, and land. But we ain’t so good at making sure we know what’s what sometimes, especially where I’m from. There’s little electricity in buildings and outhouses are more common than not.”

“Where at in Kentucky?”

“Harrodsburg, actually. Small little town where you know everyone. Probably worlds different than here or Boston.” Neil didn’t question it-he knew how obvious his accent was to people. “Can’t think how different Boston would be to here, though.”

“Depends on where you grew up. If you grew up in the working class, I’m sure it would be similar in a lot of ways.”

“But not for those in high society.” Now he was surprised.

“…do I dare ask?”

“You try too hard to pretend you aren’t from there. I think your experience in the war, coupled with living far away has helped, but it’s not perfect.” Neil tensed, and anger, hot and white, flashed through him.

“How the hell do you know what I went through in the war?” She didn’t seem intimidated. In fact, she seemed even more pissed than him.

“I think you’ll find I know more than you would ever know.” He stopped in front of Stew’s house and sneered at her. How the hell could she know? She wasn’t old enough or trained in anything too have served. How dare she pretend she knew something? Assume she knows what it was like?

“Why the hell would I want to find out?”

“You wouldn’t-you’re too damn busy reminding everyone how self-important the Great Doctor Dunn is. Guess a poor little farm girl like me will never be good enough for the Dunn’s of Bah-ston.” She did a terrible job of imitating his accent, yet it still drove the point. “For the record, it’s not just the soldiers that see your pain.” With that, she slammed the door, and stomped off. Damn it. He had to go and ruin a perfectly good conversation. He didn’t think about the fact that, while she wasn’t going to be the one to fight, she’d be old enough to see what war had done to that person. Somehow, she looked so good when she stomped off. Neil, would you leave your penis out of this conversation for longer than five minutes?

Neil smacked the steering wheel of his car and drove off. She managed to get to him, and Roland had been right. He hated to admit that he’d been right. She was sexy, and sweet, and smart. The three s’s, the things, as Roland had also pointed out, had made him fall in love with May. And that was probably why he’d started feeling things he hadn’t felt in years with Sally.

But he pushed too hard every time in an attempt to mask his feelings. She could never like him anyhow, because he was far too damaged and old for her, but it was going to be difficult. Hurting her was still the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to be friends. That much was true. But lashing out and pushing people away was all he knew.

He’d made a mess of things.