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Baptism in Blood(72)

By:Jane Haddam


“And you’ve changed your mind?”

Rose turned her face away. “I think the way Henry Holborn talks sometimes is very dangerous. I don’t think he should be allowed to do it.”

“But he is allowed to do it,” Naomi said. “That’s what the First Amendment is all about.”

“Well, I don’t know about the First Amendment. I just know that you shouldn’t talk trash like that. And he lies about things, you know. I don’t mean he tells outright lies, but he leaves things out and that makes what he’s saying a lie. Do you know what I mean?”

“No.”

“Well, for Heaven’s sake, Naomi. Think about it. Henry’s always going on and on and on about how Zhondra Meyer’s camp brought all this evil here and flooded the town with homosexuals, but that isn’t true, is it? Remember Miss Thornton and Miss Bates?”

“Oh,” Naomi said, the memory pushing a little puff of laughter out of her throat. “Oh, yes. I haven’t thought of them in years. Miss Bates had hats, and Miss Thornton bought army surplus boots and smoked a cigar.”

“There was Mr. Catervay, too,” Rose said, “who used to disappear for weeks at a time on buying trips to New York City, but we all knew what was going on. It isn’t a new thing to have homosexuals here. We’ve always had them. We just never paid them any mind.”

“They never pushed our noses in it, either,” Naomi said.

Rose sniffed. “Well, maybe. But maybe they’re push­ing it in our faces because Henry Holborn is always push­ing his stuff in theirs. That’s something new these days, too. Tent preachers didn’t used to get rich like that when I was growing up. And they didn’t—attack people directly. They attacked sin, but they didn’t attack people.”

“Yes,” Naomi said slowly. “I do know what you mean. With Henry it’s sometimes like he targets individu­als, like he has personal vendettas against real-life people.”

Rose went to a display of Jesus statues. The statues were tall and carefully painted (“hand painted,” the sign at the base of the display said) and sitting on a revolving pyramid. Naomi had never understood what people did with statues like these.

“There’s another thing,” Rose said. “I’ve been think­ing and thinking about it, and I don’t care what the Bible says. The Bible isn’t always one-hundred-percent right about its scientific facts. Look at all that business about creation and evolution, and about the Earth being flat.”

“I thought you were a creationist,” Naomi said. “I thought you wrote a letter to the Bellerton Times in favor of teaching creationism in the public schools.”

“I’ve changed my mind since then. I’ve been thinking about it, Naomi. I don’t think homosexuality is an abomi­nation and an offense against God. I think it just is.”

“What?”

“I think it just is,” Rose insisted. “I think people are just born that way. And if you’re born that way there’s nothing you can do about it and nothing you ought to do about it. Just like being born black or white. Do you see what I mean?”

“No,” Naomi said desperately, “I don’t know what you mean. Do you mean you’re in favor of gay rights laws now? Or what?”

Rose went behind the counter and stood next to the cash register, a mulish look on her face. “I mean I think the way Henry Holborn has been talking around here is just wrong. That’s what I mean. I mean I think he caused these things somehow, Tiffany and that Carol Littleton, too—”

“You think Henry Holborn murdered both Tiffany Marsh and Carol Littleton?”

“I didn’t say I thought he murdered them. I said I thought he caused what happened to them. It’s not the same thing. It’s not—it’s not an action, it’s an—an atmo­sphere—” Rose was floundering.

“Well,” Naomi said. “I think I see what you mean. I’ve never been a big fan of Henry Holborn’s myself.”

“I know you haven’t. But a lot of people are. Big fans of his, I mean. It makes me sick.”

“I think I’d better get back to the library,” Naomi said. “I’ve been away all day, practically. Are you sure you’re going to be all right now, all alone here the way you are?”

“I’m not alone,” Rose said. “I’ve got Kathi opening boxes in the back room. There are a lot of boxes. It’s going to take hours.”

“All right,” Naomi said. “Well. I’ll see you later.”