The Steep and Thorny Way(35)

“They’re just jealous,” I continued, “that no girl would ever want to sleep with them out here in the woods.”

Robbie’s face sobered, and his laughter ceased. “Is this real, Hanalee?” he asked. “Did you two . . . ?” He gestured with his cigarette toward the blanket on the ground. “Last night . . . did you . . . ?”

I slid my hand across Joe’s stomach and felt his muscles stiffen.

Robbie stared me in the eye and squeezed two fingers down upon his cigarette. “I’d sure feel more certain of all of this if I saw you two kiss.”

I gritted my teeth. “You don’t need—”

“I’ve had it on pretty good authority”—Robbie toyed with the blade of his knife again—“that your boy here likes men. In fact, I feel like puking just from standing so close to him. I feel like . . .” His green eyes darkened, and the knife and the cigarette shook in his hands.

Joe’s arm tensed beside me. I squeezed his hand.

“We just woke up,” I said. “I don’t have any chewing gum or toothpaste to make my breath nice and sweet for him.”

Gil reached inside a coat pocket and drew out his own pocketknife, as well as a yellow packet of Wrigley’s P.K. gum. “Here you go.” He stepped forward with one foot and held out his hand with the chewing gum.

Joe and I took a stick apiece, eyeing the knife in Gil’s other hand, and then we peeled down the paper wrappers and popped the gum into our mouths. A jolt of peppermint hit my tongue, and my eyes watered from both the taste and the fear of what would happen if I didn’t kiss Joe in front of these prying jackasses. Or what would happen if I grabbed up my gun and shot one of the Wittens in the knee with my remaining bullet.

We chewed for a good half minute or so, our chomps the only sounds in the woods, aside from the pleading calls of a robin and Gil snickering under his breath.

“All right, that should do it,” said Robbie. “Spit them out and kiss. I want to be good and certain I’m not sending our sweet little girl into the world with a pervert who’ll try sticking his—”

Joe lunged toward Robbie, but before he could take a swing, I grabbed Joe’s left arm.

“Come on—let’s just show them,” I said with a tremor in my voice.

I cupped a hand around the back of Joe’s sweating neck and adjusted my footing on the dirt until we faced each other directly. We just stood there for a moment, breathing peppermint on each other, our lips wavering a few mere inches apart, not quite able to touch.

“What do you think, Gil?” asked Robbie. “Does that look like a fellow about to elope with a woman? Or does it look like someone who needs a stern lesson in masculinity?”

At that, I kissed Joe full on the mouth. Our lips just sort of smashed together at first, but then I felt his mouth moving a bit, kissing me back, and he even slid the tip of his tongue against my tongue, which the Wittens must have witnessed, for Gil whispered, “Oh, sweet Jesus.” My hand gripped the back of Joe’s neck so hard, I must have hurt him; he clung to my waist as though we were withstanding a hurricane. Without realizing what was coming over me, I started to cry, right there, mid-kiss.

Joe pulled his lips away. I dug my forehead into his shoulder and took deep sips of air to try to stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. I smelled the pond by the Paulissens’ shed again and wished us away to anywhere else on earth besides that cold spot of land in front of the Wittens.

“Why is she crying?” asked Gil.

Joe wrapped his arm around me and pulled me against his side. “Because you’re threatening us with knives and turning what we have into something dirty. How do you expect her to react?”

Gil scratched his head beneath his cap with the hand that held his knife. Robbie looked the two of us up and down, and my skin chilled in the places touched by his gaze.

“Well, don’t just keep gawking at us.” Joe brought us both a step backward. “You’re not going to see anything else, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“I thought I heard a cat yelping outside last night,” said Gil, his face reddening again, “but maybe that was just Hanalee, screaming in the throes of passion.”

“Shut up, Gil,” snapped Robbie. “This whole thing makes me sick to my stomach, to be honest.” He tossed his cigarette to the ground and rubbed it out with the toe of his right shoe. “I might have to go tell your mama and stepdaddy about this, Hanalee.”

“I don’t need the two of you tattling on me, Robbie,” I said while coughing up the last of my tears, “so just—”

“Don’t worry about it, Hanalee.” Joe slid his arm off me but grabbed hold of my left hand. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

“Well, if God sees fit, then”—Robbie turned around, away from us, yet he peeked over his shoulder and kept his blade exposed by his side—“you two will make it safely across the river to Washington. Let’s see how long that marriage lasts until you both wake up and realize how much you repulse each other.”

“Go to hell, Robbie,” said Joe.

“Oh, I’m not the one who’ll be burning for all eternity, Joseph Adder.” Robbie pushed his way through the trees.

Gil followed his brother, and their checkered hats disappeared amid leaves and cobwebs shining with dew.