'Key's in the ignition,' he says. 'Turn it to low cool, do you understand?'
Lennie says he does and heads back to Mabel, but Mabel's not ready to move, although sweat is pouring down her cheeks and her face is bright red. 'I didn't go yet!' she bawls. 'I got to go\'
Leo Lamoine, one of the new officers, strolls up to Henry. This is company Henry could do without; Leo has the brain of a turnip. 'How'd she get out here, sport?' he asks. Leo Lamoine is the kind of man who calls everyone 'sport.'
'I don't know, but she did,' Henry says wearily. He's getting a headache. 'Round up some women to take her behind my police car and hold her up while she piddles.'
CHAPTER 31
'Which ones, sport?'
'Big ones,' Henry says, and walks away before the sudden strong urge to punch Leo Lamoine in the nose can overpower him.
'What kind of police force is this?' a woman asks as she and four others escort Mabel to the rear of unit Three, where Mabel will pee while holding onto the bumper, the others standing in front of her for modesty's sake.
Thanks to Rennic and Randolph, your fearless leaders, the unprepared kind, Henry would like to reply, but he doesn't. He knows his mouth got him into trouble the night before, when he spoke in favor of Andrea Grinnell's being heard. What he says is:'The only one you've got.'
To be fair, most people are, like Mabel's female honor guard, more than willing to help one another. Those who have remembered to bring water share it with those who did not, and most drink sparingly. There are idiots in every crowd, though, and those in this one pig the water freely and without thought. Some folks munch cookies and crackers that will leave them thirstier later on. Mary Lou Costas's baby begins to cry fretfully beneath the Red Sox cap, which is much too big for her. Mary Lou has brought a bottle of water, and she now begins to dab the baby's overheated cheeks and neck with it. Soon the bottle will be empty.
Henry grabs Pamela Chen and again points to Mary Lou. 'Take that bottle and fill it from what we brought,' he says. 'Try not to let too many people see you, or it'll all be gone before noon.'
She does as told, and Henry thinks, There's one at least who might actually make a good smalltown cop, if she ever wanted the job.
Nobody bothers to watch where Pamela is going. That's good. When the buses come, these folks will forget all about being hot and thirsty, for a while. Of course, after the visitors go... and with a long walk back to town staring them in the face...
An idea hits him. Henry scopes out his 'officers' and sees a lot of dumbbells but few people he trusts; Randolph has taken most of the haltway decent ones on some sort of secret mission. Henry thinks it has to do with the drug operation Andrea accused Rennie of running, but he doesn't care what it is. All he knows is that they aren't here and he can't run this errand himself.
But he knows who could, and hails him over.
'What do you want, Henry?' Bill Allnut asks.
'Have you got your keys to the school?'
Allnut, who's been the Middle School janitor for thirty years, nods. 'Right here.' The key ring hanging from his belt glitters in the hazy sun. 'Always carry em, why?'
'Take unit Four,' Henry says. 'Go back to town as fast as you can without running over any latecomers. Get one of the school-buses and bring it out here. One of the forty-four seaters.'
Allnut doesn't look pleased. His jaw sets in a Yankee way Henry - a Yankee himself - has seen all his life, knows well, and hates. It's a penurious look that says Igutta take care of m'self, chummy. 'You can't get all these people in one schoolbus, are you nuts?'
'Not all,' Henry says, just the ones who won't be able to make it back on their own.' He's thinking of Mabel and the Corso girl's overheated baby, but of course by three this afternoon there will be more who can't walk all the way back to town. Or maybe at all.
Bill Allnut's jaw sets even more firmly; now his chin is sticking out like the prow of a ship. 'Nossir. My two sons and their wives are coming, they said so. They're bringing their kids. I don't want to miss em. And I ain't leaving m'wife. She's all upset.'
Henry would like to shake the man for his stupidity (and outright throttle him for his selfishness). Instead he demands Allnut s keys and asks to be shown which one opens the motor pool. Then he tells Allnut to go back to his wife.
'I'm sorry, Henry,' Allnut says, 'but I gut to see m'kids n grand-kids. I deserve to. I didn't ask the lame, the halt, n the blind to come out here, and I shouldn't have to pay for their stupidity.'
'Ayup, you're a fine American, no question about that,' Henry says. 'Get out of my sight.'
Allnut opera his mouth to protest, thinks better of it {perhaps it's something he sees on Officer Morrison's face), and shuffles away.
Henry yells for Pamela, who does not protest when told she's to go back to town, only asks where, what, and why. Henry tells her.
'Okay, but... are those schoolbuses standard shift? Because I can't drive a standard.'
Henry shouts the question to Allnut, who is standing at the Dome with his wife Sarah, both of them eagerly scanning the empty highway on the other side of the Motton town line.
'Number Sixteen is a standard!'Allnut shouts back. 'All the rest are automatics! And tell her to mind the interlock! Them buses won't start unless the driver fastens his seatbelt!'
Henry sends Pamela on her way, telling her to hurry as much as prudence will allow. He wants that bus ASAP.
At first the people at the Dome stand, anxiously watching the empty road. Then most of them sit down. Those who have brought blankets spread them. Some shade their heads from the hazy sun with their signs. Conversation lags, and Wendy Goldstone can be heard quite clearly when she asks her friend Ellen where the crickets are - there's no singing in the high grass. 'Or have I gone deaf?' she asks.