The note was written in a scrawl

Chapter 6)  Abbeyville summer party
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Second Saturday of June, the day of the Churchail party and the weather was clear and warm.
Shortly after lunch, five of Trinity's most desirable young ladies roared down Main Street in a blue Chevy convertible on their way to Abbeyville 30 miles to the north.

Becky was driving. She talked her boyfriend into loaning her the car, keeping it secret that they were going to a party without him. She told him it was going to be a shopping trip to Abbeyville followed by a movie at the drive-in.

The girls were giggling. The Churchail event brought out the finest young men in the state, including the college football team. The dive-in movie meant they could stay until after dark.

All of them told the same story to their parents.
Maggie never lied to her parents before and worried they would find out.
She wore her best dress, buttoned at the top and tied in the middle, and sat in the back seat between two other girls.

The girls only invited Maggie because she was more confident around boys lately.
The girl in the passenger seat turned around and challenged, did you wear them?
The other girls shrieked.
Maggie said, yes. I wasn't going to but changed my mind.
How do they look? Ha, ha, ha.
One of the girls gave her a pair of sheer panties. They were obscene.
Well, did you look at them from behind? Another shriek and more laughing.

The girls were bucking with excitement when they crossed the big cement bridge.
River Boy was standing hundred yards away, fishing off the railroad bridge. He was looking at Maggie.

All five girls saw him.
Becky, the driver, said, ewww, but before she could catch herself, Maggie blurted, he's not like that.
You know him?
Maggie didn't answer, but she saw their faces. They knew him too.
She couldn't believe it. How did River Boy know them?

The car almost hit the side of the bridge before straightening itself and swerving through the next curve, as a car load of screaming blond hair disappeared north, heading to the party.

The house was outside of Abbeyville. Becky was there the year before. They followed several cars up the long drive. Trees lined both sides of the road with a white fence and horses and occasional stretch of the old rock wall. It was beautiful, sunny with a small breeze.
In the distance was the sloped roof of the Plantation house rising above the massive oak trees.

When they got there, the driveway was amuck with people parking cars and streaming toward the house. The banners and flags announcing Churchail the candidate were fluttering about, at least the ones that hadn't been knocked down and under the wheels of the cars. There were a couple boys up in the trees re-tieing the banners higher up so people couldn't reach them.

The front yard was filled with cars and out into the fields beyond. Women were wearing colorful summer clothes, some with big white hats, while the husbands mostly strutted around in a bar-b-que outfit, probably washed, but only slightly above fishing clothes. It was an un-romantic start, but exciting no matter since there were a few young men standing about with drinks while measuring the new arrivals.

The old plantation mansion had a wide porch that stretched across the front with four columns holding up the massive 3-story structure.
A flagstone path took took them around back where a band was playing. Children were running around chasing each other. The patio was covered with hundreds of wooden folding chairs and a large red and white tent that emanated a sweet bouquet of seared beef and potato salad.

Maggie had no anticipation of meeting a proper man. She ignored introductions but was quickly abandoned by her friends.
One young man heard from another that she was looking for her friends.
Maggie saw him walking toward her with intent, and was attracted by his gentlemanly manners. He said, I know where they went.
He was nice looking so she chose to walk with him across the patio. It was very romantic, a potential suitor helping find lost friends.
The path disappeared behind a row of bushes that led to a portico on the side of the house with a wide door and worn brass handle. It looked like a servant entrance.
Not exactly. It opened into the old houseslave hallway that was now infested by young white men and girls, some fairly undressed, who were kissing and carrying on with different activities at various angles. Two girls at the end of the hall were kneeling in front of a row of men for some reason.
She saw Becky being pulled into a room by brown-haired man. She called out, but Becky disappeared and the door shut.

The sudden realization that this was a wanton display of carnality was more than Maggie had experienced or wanted for herself. And now, another man standing nearby thought her dress needed adjustment from the backside.
Maggie, not forgetting her manners, spun around and hit him in the head, which was greeted by a cheer from the other men.
She fled outside feeling empowered as more people were coming up the walkway, including her friend Jannine.
The disturbed look in Maggie's eyes signaled Jannine to look away in hope that Maggie wouldn't attach herself. It worked. Maggie hurried past without word.

Returning to the back yard, struck rabid by occurrences, she was bouncing up and down in a chair, not particularly with the music. Which caused her to jump up and ask the next man if he wanted to dance. Yes.
Neither was very good at the ritual and parted after his mother called him.

The next man was a better dancer, and the third was more serious.
She instantly felt different around him, wondering how this delusion worked, realizing that men could affect her differently.
This further empowered herself to enjoy certain biological urges, like those she felt when thinking about River Boy.
He asked if she wanted to go for a walk.
She knew which direction to avoid so it was a relief when he wanted to walk out onto the grounds toward the garden.
He had an air of sophistication and didn't talk much.
It was a beautiful afternoon.
The Rose bushes were perfectly pruned ... rows of flowers straight and robust.
The unmistakable perfume of climbing Jasmine and honeysuckle filled the garden. The bees were busy, and their familiar hum stirred memories of Trinity.

Beyond the garden were rows of young Pecan trees.
At that point the man introduced himself. I am Thomas Churchail the third.
It was a surprise when he knelt down and began tending one of the trees.
These are my trees. I'm in the agriculture school at the University. Next year we'll graph them for larger seeds
He explained how local trees grew well in the soil but bore small nuts. The saplings were grafted with northern trees that produced larger nuts.
It was interesting. Maggie knelt down with him and felt the same soil.
The man made her feel good.
He helped her up and they walked down a short slope to a grape arbor at the end of the field.
There was a limestone bench with the name Churchail carved into it.

The two of them spent the afternoon together talking about everything from high school to how it felt to be in college.
He kissed her. It was nice. They managed to get re-positioned so that he was able to rub against her until his breathing became more rapid. His hands held her hips with urgency until his gasp of exhale was followed by rapid breathing as if catching ones breath.
Mr Churchail III then slumped back smiling. Maggie was pleased he was so relaxed now, but felt an unrequited stirring in herself.
The walk back was wonderful but the dampness between her legs wouldn't go away and that was starting to alarm Maggie.
As soon as they got back, an older girl walked up glaring at Maggie and practically stole Mr Churchail away demanding to know where he'd been.
Thomas III left without saying goodbye. He looked back once, thinking, I want to be with you. Maggie felt the same way.

Wow, forget that, the animal was uncaged and another young man was upon her instantly.
He had slick black hair and a white shirt to offset a dark complexion.
He was more like a man. Not like the boy she was with moments before.
He was softer with more manners and took her hand and asked if she wanted to go for a walk.

She began to understand the purpose of taking a walk at this party, and saw the man had a nice way.
As they started walking, he put an arm around her and pointed to lighting bugs that were beginning to sparkle across the grass. It was wonderful and very interesting.
When he kissed her it was romantic, not demanding.
They stopped for a while and he ran his hand across the side of her face and caressed her neck with his fingers.
He stepped back and let one finger trace down the front until it reached the skirt tie around her middle where he hooked his finger and pulled her against his body.
This kiss was passionate and deep. It didn't matter that other people were around, but to sate the primal urge, they needed to walk farther into the night.

They made 10 steps before almost stumbling over two people rolling in the grass.
Apologies made, it was almost too dark to see who they were.
Maggie was hoping it wasn't one of her friends yet excited by the thought that it might be.
Hope they don't get red chiggers. She needed to break that image out of her mind before it made her laugh.

Maggie felt helpless as he moved behind her wrapping both arms around her shoulders so he could unbutton the front.
His hands finding their way into and across parts of her body that had never been explored by a man.
Oh my how it felt when he grasped her with one hand while running his finger across areas of her breast.
Maggie panicked and pulled away.

He gracefully yielded, but spun her around to face him and pulled open her dress while they kissed.

Walking a little more they entered a small octagon-shaped building made of stone with seats around the inside edges and open on the sides.
She could barely see. There were two other couples involved in themselves.

Her new friend pulled her against his body. This time it was for real.
It was dark, it was dizzy, there was lust at every corner in her mind.

He leaned back.
She pulled up her skirt and began rubbing the wetness against him.
Their noise shared with the night yet drown out by intent, he urged her for more while Maggie pushed as far forward as she could, wanting this strange man to tear through and enter her most private thoughts. Then the spell was broken and Maggie refused. Both of them had to satisfy private moments with his kiss and long slow caress down her open front. A brief invasion of her sheer panties by one finger, caused her to grab it and threaten to break it off.

Her new love wanted more, like a spiderlilly wanting the moth, but Maggie lost interest, noticing his breath smelled of alcohol. She didn't like him at all.
That was confusing. How could she like him a moment before, and not notice his intoxication?

He laughed and said, we should go to Crooks Tail.
She didn't want to know his name, but it was the first time a man beside Tad asked for a date.

Crooks Tail was not the best choice for innocent girls.
It wasn't a town. It was a salacious collection of old wood buildings on the west side of Lewiston, a declining area, across the tracks and down near the bayou.

They took if off the map years ago ... that whisky strewn palace of defiled womanhood, and frequent haunt of Big Mak and assorted promoters, actors, jugglers, pool players, drinkers, drug users, pimps, whores, gamblers and killers. Everyone welcome to spend their money visiting the endless delight of risk and entertainment where no man dare say how you died.

Before the Civil War it was a slave market, but after the river channel moved, the buildings were left nearly abandon until prohibition, when it became a not-too-secret location where all colors of people went to drink and gamble.

Bottom line, Crooks Tail became a life sucking gold mine for the Upstate Boys, managed by a duo of Negroes named Crackling Green and Boy Johnson.

Maggie refused the offer to go to Crooks Tail, whatever that was.
Her temporary lust partner said, you'd like it. There a room with holes in the wall.
Maggie asked, is it a funhouse?
Oh yeah, he said. Men stand on one side of the wall. And women on the other side can do whatever they want with what comes through the hole.

Oh my God.
Maggie admonished herself for using The Lord's in the same thought with women who would do that.

She broke away and ran back across the field to the party, refusing to think about what she just heard.
The other girls were looking for her when she ran up out of the darkness. They laughed after seeing Maggie's dress off-buttoned and skewed to one shoulder. She managed to straighten herself as they raced back to the car, intending to pass the drive-in theater to see what was playing. Not surprisingly, it was Randolph Scott shooting onscreen Indians.

On the way back to Trinity, Maggie asked the girls, what is Crooks Tail?
That caused a flutter of exhausted laughter.
Becky said, why don't you ask your friend River Boy. The car was quiet after that.
There was a mystery going on. What did those girls know? And what was in Crooks Tail, and why would River Boy know about that? But mostly, how did those girls know River Boy when nobody talked to him?

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