The Hayloft. A 1950s Mystery

high anxiety. I determined to get rid of her as soon as possible. She nimbly made the transition to the floor of the hayloft before I could get over to assist her.
    She was dressed in faded blue jeans and an old sweatshirt with a tear under one sleeve, through which I could see a bit of her bra when she raised her arm. In spite of her tattered appearance, she was still the most beautiful girl in the school.
    She looked around and said, “I’ve got some good memories of this place.”
    She didn’t elaborate, but that was a lead-in. “So, tell me about you and Ralph.”
    She pouted. “Is that the only reason you invited me here, to pump me for information?”
    I hadn’t invited her; she had invited herself. She grabbed the basketball and shot awkwardly at the rim. In spite of having the flexibility and coordination of a cheerleader, she didn’t have the shooting skill of either Kate or Sylvia.
    I asked the same question several different ways, but she didn’t respond with anything on subject. She kept messing with the basketball, passing it to me, shooting it, dribbling. This was going nowhere fast.
    I asked her about one of the other things on my mind. “What if Joe finds out you’re here?”
    “He’s at football practice. But I want to talk to you about Joe. Can we go up on the bales? Ralph and I built a fort there once.”
    Without waiting for a response, she climbed to the top of the bales with agility. I followed, wondering how one controlled a wayward woman. I had decided several years ago never to get married, and Natalie’s behavior reinforced my decision.
    “Somebody’s been hard at work,” she said as I clambered up behind her.
    She surveyed all the bales I had moved in trying to get down to the corner of the hayloft to look for the necklace. I hadn’t worked on this project since last Friday, four days ago. I didn’t answer, not wanting to go into my reasons for exhausting myself.
    “Did you make the fort?” she asked.
    It was the fort that Kate and I had made—and Sylvia and I had inhabited. Natalie dove inside and disappeared.
    “Come on in; the water’s fine.”
    I knew I shouldn’t do it, but sometimes the lures of the flesh are irresistible. I followed her into the dark, cramped space. The only way we could cohabit it was to sit shoulder-to-shoulder or facing in opposite directions. I chose the latter position as the safer, but she told me to turn around.
    I did, and knew it was advisable for me not to move any more. In any case, Natalie belonged to Joe, and I belonged to Sylvia, so she wouldn’t want me to try anything.
    “Tell me about Joe,” I said. If she wouldn’t talk about Ralph, maybe she would at least talk about Joe. And talking was the safest thing we could do.
    “Joe was a mistake,” she said.
    That wasn’t what I expected to hear. I was so surprised I couldn’t reply.
    After a pause, she continued, “I expected him to be manly. After all, he’s a big hunk of a guy.”
    I couldn’t dispute that.
    “Have you ever heard of a boy who doesn’t like to kiss?”
    Was that a rhetorical question? And what did it have to do with Joe?
    “Ralph was a good kisser. He tried some other things, too, but I wouldn’t let him do anything below the neck.”
    Now I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear all this.
    “But Joe is strange. He expects me to be completely true to him, but I don’t know what else he wants. He certainly doesn’t seem to want to do anything with me, except to have me close by. Like one of his athletic trophies. Do you know what I mean?”
    I grunted, not knowing what to say.
    “He gets mad at me for no reason. If he even thinks I look at another boy.”
    Then what was she doing here?
    “Anyway, come graduation, he’s going to be gonesville.”
    “If you don’t like him, why wait until graduation?”
    “Because…because I can’t leave him now. I don’t know what he’d do.”
    If she was in physical danger from Joe, couldn’t she tell her parents? Probably not. And it would be uncool of me to suggest this.
    “I’ve grown up since I went with Ralph. I’m ready for more. You’re Ralph’s cousin. I suspect you’re a lot like him. Maybe you and I could meet…”
    “I’m going with…” I was going to say Sylvia, but that was supposed to be a secret now.
    “Sylvia? Gary, that girl has no figure. She’s flat as an ironing board. And I’ll bet she never let you do this.”
    She grabbed my hand and placed it on her breast. Suddenly I