Different Drummers by Jean Houghton-Beatty Page A

didn’t want to leave this small but elegant part of town, he turned his truck onto the main street. He pulled into the parking lot of Todd’s Bar and Grill. “Come on, let’s get a hot dog or somethin’. We might see some of them people I’ve been tellin’ you about. Everybody eats in here.”
    It was lunchtime and the restaurant was crowded. There were about six tables in the center and booths around the side. In the corner stood a jukebox. All eyes turned in their direction.
    â€œThey’re all lookin’ at you and wonderin’ who you are,” Freddie whispered as he guided her to a table closest to the cash register. “See their faces. You’re creatin’ quite a stir.”
    He fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table. “I don’t want you to think I’m gettin’ fresh or nothing, Kathleen, but you really are somethin’ else. There ain’t nothin’ like you anywhere around these parts. No sir, nothin’ like you from here all the way to Atlanta.”
    Freddie Conroy was like a breath of fresh air and Kathleen believed him when he said he wasn’t trying to be fresh. He was one of that rare breed who is totally without guile. What a miracle he’d turned up to befriend her at this dark moment in her life. What would she have done without him? It was easy to see why he’d picked the table next to the cash register. When people stopped to pay for their meal, he introduced her.
    â€œThis is Kathleen, Bobby Conroy’s wife from England,” he said to each one. He said it proudly, almost as if the very fact she was here in Eddisville was all his idea. People smiled and nodded, some shook her hand, and some stopped to say a few words, to wish her well in her new country.
    At Freddie’s recommendation, she ordered a hot dog all the way, french fries, and a glass of iced tea. He put some money in the jukebox and played “Long Ago and Far Away.” His enthusiasm was infectious. She returned his smile and hummed along to the music. Was it possible she was actually enjoying herself? After her dismal arrival yesterday and the ghastly incident at the table with her father-in-law, she could hardly believe it.
    Freddie looked toward the door. “Here comes old man Tate. Remember now, he owns The Eddisville Gazette . He’s always in a hurry. I ain’t never seen a man rushin’ around as much as he does.”
    They watched as Mr. Tate hung his hat on the rack close to the register.
    â€œJust a cup of coffee, Johnny, please,” he said to the youth behind the counter. “I don’t have a lot of time and can see how crowded you are. I can’t see an empty table anywhere.”
    He was a heavyset man who appeared to be in his middle fifties. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the beads of perspiration from his brow while his eyes searched the room and came to rest on their table.
    â€œWhat say, Mr. Tate,” Freddie said. “You’re welcome to join us. Anyways, I think I have a piece of news for the Gazette .”
    â€œMuch obliged to you Freddie.” He smiled at Kathleen as he eased his bulky frame into the chair. “Morning, young lady. I don’t believe we’ve met and it doesn’t look like Freddie’s going to introduce us.”
    Freddie pretended indignation. “Yes I was. You haven’t given me a chance yet. This here’s Kathleen and she’s my news. She’s Bobby Conroy’s brand new wife, all the way from England. I was the very first person she spoke to when she got off the bus yesterday, and I was the one who drove her to Bobby’s house.”
    Kathleen squirmed a little at Freddie’s lengthy introduction but it was easy to see the men were on friendly terms, in spite of the obvious difference in their ages and backgrounds. Did she imagine the slightly raised eyebrows and questioning look that