APRIL’S TROUBLES

By Ed Carlson

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This story is purely fictitious. The names of the persons and places used herein are for story

 illustration only. They should not be construed as representing any person, living or dead.

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The alarm jangled on the nightstand and startled April Stapelton awake. She felt around for the clock, and in the process of finding it, her hand bumped the other object that occupied the nightstand. She found the clock and the little button that ended the incessant ringing. She continued to feel around the top of the nightstand to no avail. One of her worst nightmares was now unfolding. She had knocked her glasses onto the floor and had absolutely no idea where they might have fallen.

April, completely nude, devoid of sleeping attire, carefully eased her feet to the cold floor and even more carefully knelt down on all fours. Normally, she would have simply felt her way over to the dresser and extracted her spare pair from the little box in the top drawer. It would have been that simple except that it was her spare glasses that she was painstakingly searching for on the cold hardwood floor. April’s other pair had been broken, actually smashed, when she stumbled on the sidewalk curb in town and they had fallen into traffic. Then, as now, that left her on her on her hands and knees, blindly groping and unable to find her glasses.

She was in tears when, after fifteen minutes of unsuccessful blind searching, groping, and feeling of the smooth hardwood floor, she heard a knock on her door.

“Are you OK?” Frank Cathruthers asked.

“I can’t find my glasses,” April replied.

“Do you want me to come in and help you?” his kindly voice asked.

“Wait a second while I get my robe,” she said, getting up and blindly feeling her way over toward the door and her waiting robe on the hook. She slipped on the robe to cover her complete nudity and tied it before she opened the door. She stood there and looked blindly past him, then said: “Come in. I’ve searched everywhere. I don’t know where they could have gone.”

“Let me take a look,” he said as he walked into the room.

He glanced quickly around the room and walked over by her writing desk. He got to his hands and knees and bent way over while he looked under the bed. He didn’t notice the small pill bottle fall out of his shirt pocket and land on the blanket on the floor. He stood back up, looked around a little more, then looked in the wastebasket. He reached into the wastebasket and retrieved her thick glasses.

“I found ’em,” he said. “They fell in the wastebasket. I have them over here.”

April started over to him with her arms outstretched and her fingers feeling for him as she felt the air and tried to find him. Her long nails hit his forearm and scratched him. It was then that he caught her hand as she stepped close to him. He put her heavy frame glasses in her hand, then started for the door.

“Thanks Frank. You’re a life saver,” April said as she slipped her glasses on and was able to see at last.

“That’s OK,” he replied in his gruff way. “Coffee’s on.”

“I’ll be down to start breakfast as soon as I get dressed,” she said.

By the time she had the words out, he was already on the stairs. April slipped out of her robe, tossed it on the unmade bed, and stood there completely nude, the way she slept. Her panties and bra were in the dresser that normally contained her spare glasses. She took them out and looked briefly in the mirror over the dresser. As usual, she hated the way she looked. Those damn thick glasses made her eyes look like melons. She thought of the name ‘Cantaloupe Eyes’ that the kids used to call her in grade school. The teasing had been devastating, but at least she was able to see again. She looked at the two pictures of herself in the frame of the mirror—one picture with glasses and one without. Definitely without glasses was better.

As April dressed, she thought back to the time when she and her mother had come to live on Frank’s wheat ranch when she was only six. It was right after her father had been killed in Korea. April remembered how desperate her mom was and how thankful she was for the job as a housekeeper for Frank. April’s memory flashed to her dimming vision and news the specialist in Denver had said. The words ‘Your Daughter Is Going Blind’ came flooding back to her as if it was yesterday, rather than fifteen years ago, when she was only seven. She remembered that she didn’t know what cataracts were or how they had started to grow in the lenses of her eyes. April remembered that her vision had dimmed and that she couldn’t see at all by the time her mom took her on the two-day train ride to Denver for the operation. The operation to remove cataracts by removing the lenses of the eye was new and almost still experimental. To most in those days, the diagnosis of cataracts meant total and permanent blindness.

April remembered that the doctor told her that she would always have to wear glasses to see anything at all and she would have tunnel vision, whatever that was. She hadn’t realized that they would be these thick things that now perched forever over the bridge of her nose.

April slipped a colorful red-plaid sleeveless blouse on and pulled on a pair of pedal-pusher blue jeans. She walked into the bathroom and combed her blond hair quickly and tied it up in a pony tail with a rubber band. She was still barefooted when she started down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“What would you like for breakfast Frank?” she asked as she burst into the room.

“Just bacon and eggs,” he said as he listened to the morning farm news and weather on the radio from his favorite leather chair in the large family-room style kitchen.

“How are prices holding?” April asked as she began preparing his food.

“Up two cents in Portland,” he replied. “Futures are looking better.”

“When are you going to sell?” she quizzed.

“Probably at a nickel,” he replied.

“All of it or just what’s already down at the terminal?” April prodded.

“Just what’s in Melstone,” he said. “I think we can do better if we hold the crop until fall. It’s looking pretty good.”

“We still need a little more rain though,” she observed.

“I’m going into town to talk to John Broady today and tell him to sell when it’s up a nickel,” he asked. “Do you want to ride along?”

“Sure. Maybe we could pick up some supplies while we’re there,” April said. “Your breakfast is ready.”

Frank got up and wavered around a little. He was dizzy and held onto the side of his chair for a moment before he started for the breakfast bar. On the way, he flexed his left arm. A look of pain was on his face.

“What’s the matter Frank?” April asked.

“Dun know,” he said as he held onto the back of the breakfast bar stool. “Dizzy all of a sudden.”

“What was wrong with your arm?” April quizzed further.

“Oh, just old age I guess,” Frank replied as he sat down. “Just a quick shooting pain.”

“Maybe you should see Doc Nelson when we’re in town. It may be serious,” she said. “Where did you get those scratches on your arm?”

“Oh, you gave me those this morning when you were waving your arms around,” he replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to. Let me put something on it.”

“Naw. Nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine,” he answered as she sat down beside him. “I do need to talk to you though.”

“Sure, what about?” April asked.

“I talked to my attorney about a month ago. You know George Carpenter there in Roundup. I had him draw me up a new will,” he said.

“All right,” April said. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“I’ve left everything I own to you,” he said nonchalantly.

“You what?” she sputtered as she dropped her fork.

“Are you going deaf? I said, I’ve left everything I own to you,” he said again.

“But why me?” she protested. “What about your nephews in Chicago?”

“Those two worthless bums each get one dollar,” he said. “April, you’ve been like the child that Barbara and I never had. I’ve enjoyed watching you become a beautiful young lady. You’ve worked hard out here taking care of me since your mother died. You managed to finish high school in the top of your class and took the bookkeeping classes so that you could help me manage the ranch. I just figured you deserve it.”

“I . . .  I . . . I don’t know what to say Frank,” she stammered.

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s all been taken care of. All signed, sealed, and delivered,” Frank said. “Nothing more to say.”

“I guess the least I could say is thank you,” she said. “I sure never expected anything like that. I’ve enjoyed keeping house for you. Heck, I’m just happy to have a roof over my head, some clothes, and food to eat.”

“Speaking of that, when was the last time you had any new clothes?” he asked.

“A little over six months ago. I’ve been saving what you give me for some new glasses right after my others were broken,” April said. “These are my old spares. My good ones were broken when I was in town. I figured because I’m blind without them and need them to see anything at all that I should get some more, just in case.”

“Don’t worry about saving up. I’ll pay for it,” he said. “As well as the trip to Denver. I can’t have my bookkeeper unable to see the ledger pages, now can I?”

“Hell Frank, if it wasn’t for you paying for the operation in the first place, I’d be reading those ledgers in Braille. You’ve already done too much,” April said.

“That’s what it’s for. If I can’t help you out, why am I running this ranch?” he asked.

“Because you and this ranch are one now,” April replied.

“I guess you’re right,” he lamented. “When I die, I want to be buried up on the hill under the tree beside Barbara.”

“That won’t be for a long time. You’re just a spring chicken,” she said.

“Sure, a seventy-three year old spring chicken,” Frank said disgustedly as he pushed his empty plate away and got down from his chair. “How soon before you can go?”

“Give me fifteen minutes to clean up here and change clothes. I can’t go to town looking like this,” April replied.

“I’ll go out and fill the truck up with gas,” he said as he started for the door. “Come on out when you’re ready. Bring the number so we can call that eye doctor in Denver while we’re in town. “

April cleared the breakfast dishes and went back upstairs. She quickly made her bed, undressed, and went to the bathroom to wash up. She washed her hands and carefully took her glasses off to wash her face. Her seeing world disappeared when she placed her glasses on the table top beside the lavatory sink. When she finished washing her face, she felt for the towel in its usual place and dried her hands and face. She blindly felt her way back to the lavatory sink and her glasses. She rinsed her glasses under the running water, and her hand found the box of tissue that she used to dry and polish the thick lenses. As she began to dry the lenses, her heart sank as she heard one of the lenses fall into the lavatory sink. A quick examination of the frame with her fingers proved her fears to be well founded. A lens was missing from her frame. She was able to locate the lens in the bottom of the sink. It took her a while, but by blind trial and error, she finally was able to reseat the lens. She carefully cleaned it before she put her glasses back on.

After a touch of light makeup, she went back into her room, then put on her best white blouse and her dark skirt that came almost to her ankles. She put on her bobby socks and saddle shoes. She spent only a moment admiring her nice figure in the mirror as she dressed. She thought it to be about perfectly proportioned for her height. If anything, her thirty-six D breasts were perhaps just a little too big.

Frank was waiting beside the pickup when she got there.

“I’m all set,” April said as she approached the passenger’s side of the pickup.

“Do you have your grocery list?” Frank asked as he got in and started the engine.

“Naw. I only need a few things. I’ll remember,” she replied.

“So if you’re not going to take it, why do you make a list?” he asked as they pulled out of the yard and down the long driveway toward the county road.

“To remind me what to get. I’ve memorized the list,” April said. “Frank, do you feel all right? You’re white as a ghost.”

“Not really,” he said. “I’m really dizzy, and my left arm feels like someone is beating on it with a baseball bat. My chest hurts too.”

“We better get you to Doc Nelson. Why don’t you let me drive?” April offered.

“I’ll be all rig—h . . .” was the last thing he said as he slumped over the wheel.

His foot depressed the accelerator, and his weight on the wheel pulled the pickup to the left and into the small ditch, then into the small ravine. The pickup had gained enough speed and had enough momentum to roll over two times before coming to rest on its top in the bottom of the small ravine in the field adjacent to the road. The violent rolling tumbled both April and Frank all around the inside of the cab. When it stopped, they were both lying on the top of the inside of the cab. Frantically, April felt around for her glasses knocked off on the first rotation. She gave up trying to find them and felt for Frank. When she found him, she couldn’t wake him and when she felt his neck, she couldn’t feel a pulse. She was filled with panic when she frantically resumed her blind search for her thick glasses. It was then that she smelled the gasoline that was now pouring out of the tank. Her hands were trembling as she felt around the interior of the cab and found a side window. It was closed, and because everything was upside down, it took her a while to locate the crank. When she had it cranked open, she slid out through the opening and onto the ground. Because the smell of the gasoline was suddenly stronger, she knew she was near the filler pipe and that it could explode at any second.

April dragged herself through the window, then struggled to her feet and blindly started away from the pickup without any idea which way she was fleeing—slowly at first and then at a run. Her outstretched arms found nothing but air. She hadn’t gone very far before she stumbled and fell. She used her hands to feel her surroundings. She quickly concluded by the rows of plants and way the plants felt that she was in the wheat field. As she blindly felt around, the seriousness of her problems suddenly came over her and she began to cry. She was totally blind without her glasses and hopelessly lost. Frank was dead in a pickup leaking gasoline and ready to explode. She had no idea where the pickup or the house was.

She sat back on her heels and looked around, trying with all her might to see something, anything at all. Her attempt was hopeless, and because of the heavy cloud cover, she couldn’t even decide where the brightness of the sun was in an attempt to determine direction. She listened intently for a sound, but only the sound of the light wind rustling through the wheat was present. Her worst fear was that she was now alone. Blind and completely alone, her tears became sobs.

It took April a long while to regain her composure and pull herself together. As she sat there, she tried to figure out where she was. She remembered going off the road to the left before the pickup started rolling. She couldn’t remember how many times it rolled though. She felt around for the wheat and determined direction of the nice even rows. She thought of following the rows to the end and either be at the county road or the house. She discarded that thought when she remembered the rows made a big sweeping curve at the end of the field. She would have to go across rows in hopes of finding the driveway. As she sat there thinking about her plan, she reasoned that she would have a fifty-fifty chance of finding the driveway or else she would wander deeper into the wheat field. She decided on a direction, deciding to count her steps. If she went over three hundred steps without finding the driveway, she would turn around.

She got to her feet. The wheat was almost ready to harvest, and it had been a good growing year. The wheat came almost up to her waist. She held her hands down at her sides and out so that the tops of the wheat plants touched both hands simultaneously. She began walking slowly, counting her steps and blindly feeling the wheat plants as she went.

She had gone two hundred steps when she heard a car or truck driving on the gravel driveway. From the direction of the sound, she had been going in the wrong direction. She had gone deeper into the wheat field. She turned and started to walk quickly toward the sound of the tires. Then she began to run and quickly stumbled and fell. She picked herself up and began running in the direction of the sound again, only it was further away now. She stumbled a second time. Disoriented, she stood up and listened again. She thought she heard the sound again as she stood there listening, but she wasn’t sure.

Using her perpendicular to the rows theory, she began to walk slowly in the direction she thought the sound of tires in the gravel came from. As she walked, the smell of gasoline became more pungent, then it lessened. April reasoned that she had passed the pickup truck as she walked slowly and deliberately, feeling the wheat as she went. Soon it felt like she was walking uphill. Then suddenly there was no more wheat. Her foot found the ditch, and then she was on the gravel.

As she stood there, she needed to decide which way to go to the house. Without the sun to give a visual clue, she needed to reason this out. The pickup truck had gone off the road to its left and that was the last thing that she saw. She had come up on the road from the left side, facing toward town; therefore, the house must be to the right. She decided that if she walked next to where she thought the ditch was that she would eventually get to the house.

But then she thought why would I want to go to the house? No one is there, and there is no telephone to call for help. She turned around and started down the gravel road with her arms outstretched feeling the air, but finding absolutely nothing. Her deep feeling of being completely alone in her own sightless world was almost becoming overwhelming.

April continued slowly along her chosen route for what she hoped would be the county road and eventual help. She thought she heard the sound of gravel under tires now getting louder from behind her. She stopped and turned around. She squinted in the direction of the sound in a hopeless attempt to see anything at all. Her lens-less eyes saw absolutely nothing.

The tire and gravel noise stopped, and she heard the engine of a car or pickup truck shut off. She heard a door creak open and slam shut.

“Hello,” April called.

“Are you hurt?” a friendly sounding male voice said.

“No. I’m fine, but please help me,” she said as she blindly began walking slowly, with outstretched arms, toward his voice.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Where are you?” she said and jumped when his hand touched hers.

“What happened here?” he asked.

“Frank was driving us to town, and I think he had a heart attack. We rolled a couple of times and landed on our top. I couldn’t feel Frank’s pulse. I smelled gasoline so I got out of there,” April recounted.

“Are you blind?” he asked.

“Now I am. I don’t have my glasses,” she said. “I lost them when the pickup rolled. I tried to find them, but I couldn’t.”

“Why don’t you sit in my pickup, and I’ll go down and check on him?” the voice said.

“While you’re there, could you try to find my glasses? Please?” she asked almost pleading. “I can’t see anything at all without them.”

“I was going to do that,” he said.

He led her tenderly to the passenger’s side of the pickup and closed the door gently behind her when she was seated. April sat there blindly staring at nothingness for what seemed like ever. Eventually, the driver’s side door opened, and she heard him slide in beside her.

“You’re right,” the voice said. “He’s dead. We need to call the Sheriff.”

“We don’t have a phone out here,” April said. “It would be quicker to drive into Melstone. We can call from John Broady’s office at the elevator.”

“I found your glasses. Hold out your hand,” he said. “You’re not going to like what I found.”

April held out her hand, and he placed her glasses in them. She quickly examined them with her anxiously trembling hands and instantly found that the loose lens was missing completely. As she felt the other lens, suddenly her hand contained several pieces of the shattered lens.

“Oh no!” she gasped. “Damn it!”

“We can go back to the house and get your spares,” the kind voice offered softly.

“These are my spares,” April said as she began to tear up again. “I broke my others several weeks ago.”

“Oh,” he said, starting his pickup truck. “I can take you into Roundup after we finish with the Sheriff. They have an eye doctor there.”

“He can’t work on me,” she said dejectedly as they started off with a jerk. “Because I had cataracts and they removed the lenses from my eyes, I need special glasses. It’s a relatively new procedure, and the nearest place that makes those kind of glasses is Denver.”

“I can take you to Roundup or maybe even Billings, but I don’t think old Betsy can make it clear to Denver,” he said almost apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it,” April said. “It’s not your problem.”

“I guess you’re right,” he said sadly. “I was just trying to help.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” April said. “You’ll never know how much I appreciate your help. I was feeling so lost and alone out there all by myself. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along. By the way, my name is April, April Stapelton.”

“Bobbie Jackson,” he replied. “Stapelton wasn’t Frank’s last name.”

“No. Frank took me and my mother in when I was four,” April said. “I stayed after mother died and kept house for him. My father was killed in Korea, and Frank was the only real dad that I ever knew.”

“Well, this looks like another dead end,” Bobbie said.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I was looking for work, and now that Frank Cathruthers is dead, the ranch will probably be sold to some conglomerate or split up among the other ranches.”

“I hadn’t even thought that far,” April said. “I still have a crop to get in and to market.”

“You mean that you are going to run the ranch?” Bobbie questioned.

“Why not?” she countered. “Because I’m a girl or that I’m blind without my glasses?”

“I guess I don’t have a reason why you shouldn’t,” he replied.

“Frank Cathruthers willed me his ranch, and I don’t think he wanted me to just give it up. But on the other hand, I have really nothing to stay there for. I suppose I could sell it, and make a tidy profit and live high on the hog,” April said. “I am going to be needing some help though, no matter what I do.”

“Well, I was on my way to see Mr. Cathruthers about a job. I guess that I can talk to you,” Bobbie said.

“Tell me a little about yourself,” April said.

“I’m twenty-four, a high school graduate, raised on a cattle ranch up by Gardner. After high school, I worked on cattle and wheat ranches all over eastern Montana. I’ve entered a few rodeos, but getting beat up like that isn’t me. I do like team roping,” he said.

“Header or healer?” April asked.

“Either one,” he replied. “I guess I like healing best.”

“I tried brake-away roping, but I never was very good,” April said. “I have this tunnel vision problem.”

“Have you had vision problems for a while?” he asked.

“I started losing my sight when I was about five. By the time I was six, my sight had dimmed to the point I was completely blind in one eye and could only make out fuzzy shapes in bright light with the other. I was totally blind at seven, and that’s when they took me to the hospital in Denver where they removed the lenses from both eyes. I was fitted with special glasses with really thick lenses. I’ve had them updated a few times as I grew up. I’ve always had at least two pair. That is, until now.”

“It sounds like you’ve been through a lot,” Bobbie commented.

“I guess so,” April replied. “I’ve really never thought of it that way. It’s just the way I am, me and my thick glasses. I can’t change it.”

“I read in a magazine that they’re making those contact lenses,” he said. “You stick ’em right on your eye, and you don’t have to wear glasses.”

“I talked to the Doctor, and they don’t make them for my vision correction,” she said. “The complete correction that I require is way beyond their ability. Besides, because of the surgery and scar tissue on my corneas, my eyes would be too sensitive. They would be red and inflamed all the time. They’d puff up, and I wouldn’t be able to see again. So I’d be worse off.”

“So how are you going to get glasses?” Bobbie asked.

“I was planning on taking the train to Denver before Frank was killed. I guess I’ll do the same thing now,” April said. “Now I’m going to have to find someone to go with me.”

“We’re here at the elevator,” Bobbie said, stopping his pickup truck. “Sit tight, and I’ll get your door.”

Bobbie got out of the driver’s side door and started around the front. By the time he got to the passenger’s side, April was standing beside the cab of the old pickup truck.

“I thought I told you to sit tight,” he said.

“I’m not crippled,” she replied, feeling for him. “I just can’t see anything.”

His hand caught her groping hand, and he gently put it on his elbow. He led the way to the office and opened the door for them. They walked to the counter.

John Broady was sitting behind his massive and messy desk. He looked up and said, “What can I do for you . . . April, I almost didn’t recognize you without your glasses.”

“We need to use your phone Mr. Broady,” she said. “There’s been and accident, and Frank’s dead.”

“Sure, come around here and use the phone,” John said.

“My glasses were broken, and I can’t see. Could you dial it for me?” April said as she felt her way around the end of the counter and tried to find his desk.

He dialed the phone and waited for an answer. He talked to the receptionist and asked for Sheriff Thomson. He waited for a few seconds and said hello and told him that someone needed to talk to him. He held the phone receiver out for April to take. She blindly felt around for it before he was able to put it in her outstretched hand.

“Sheriff Thomson, this is April Stapelton,” she began. “I live out at Frank Cathruthers’ place. Frank and I were on our way to town when we had an accident. He grabbed his chest and keeled over and drove off the road. The pickup rolled several times. I felt his pulse, and I couldn’t feel any. He wasn’t breathing either . . . No, we weren’t to the county road yet. He drove into the little ravine off the driveway . . . Sure, I’ll wait here in Melstone for you. We’ll be over at the café . . . goodbye.”

When the Sheriff hung up, she handed the phone back in John’s direction and he replaced the receiver in the cradle.

“I’m sorry to hear about Frank. I’ve done business with him for a long time. He was a good friend,” John said. “What happened to your glasses April?”

“They were broken in the wreck,” she replied. “I’ve hired Bobbie here to lead me around.”

“I remember you before your mom took you off to Denver for that operation. You had the long stick that you used for finding your way around,” he remembered. “You were as blind as a bat.”

“Well, I’m just as blind without glasses now,” April said. “I just might need that stick again until I can get to Denver.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he offered.

“There are a couple of things,” April said. “I need to call George Carpenter over in Roundup to let him know about Frank.”

“I can call him for you if you would like,” John offered. “What else?”

“Frank said that he wanted to sell if the price was up a nickel above this morning’s price,” April said. “He was on his way to talk to you when he died.”

“I don’t know, with Frank dying and all,” John hesitated.

“Ask George Carpenter what to do when you talk to him,” she said. “It’s what Frank wanted, and I think I have the authority to sell it. But we should check with him just in case. I need the money to go to Denver.”

April felt her way around the desk and eventually found the end of the counter. Bobbie took her arm, and they went outside. They started across the street toward the café.

“You’re going to have to pay. My purse is back in Frank’s pickup,” she said.

“You can add it to my paycheck,” Bobbie said. “I didn’t know you hired me to lead you around.”

“Well, you were looking for work, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but ranch work,” he replied.

“We’ll get to that,” April said. “First things first.”

Bobbie opened the door, and they went in. It was midmorning, and the place was almost deserted. He led her to a booth where he could watch out the window. The waitress was there almost instantly.

“April? Is that you?” the waitress quizzed.

“Yes, it’s me,” April replied.

“You look so different. I’ve never seen you without those thick glasses before,” she went on.

“That’s because I can’t see without them,” April replied. “Your voice sounds familiar.”

“Emma Sue,” the waitress said. “What’ll it be?”

They both ordered doughnuts and coffee. The waitress hurried off.

“Why didn’t you tell him back there that the place had been willed to you?” Bobbie asked.

“I’ve never read the will. Frank just told me about it this morning. He had two nephews that each get one dollar and I get the rest is what he told me. I’ll really believe it when I see it, or at least hear it for now,” April responded. “I also thought that if John Broady heard it from George Carpenter that he wouldn’t put up an argument.”

“So what are you going to do about glasses?” he asked. “I don’t know you that well, but I think that you’re independent enough not to want me leading you around forever.”

“You’re right, I don’t want you leading me around forever. I guess we’re going to have to go to Denver,” she replied. “Are you up to a train ride?”

“Sure, if you want me to,” he said. “I was just thinking though, someone should stay behind and mind the ranch while you’re gone. Maybe I could do that, and you could find one of your old high school girlfriends to take you.”

“What’s the matter, don’t you want to be cooped up in the compartment with me for two days and three nights?” she teased.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind that at all. I was just trying to be practical.”

“I appreciate that,” April replied. “This time of year the ranch almost runs itself. But let me think about it. Besides, I think it would be kind of fun to play around in one of those train beds.”

“I’m glad that you can’t see right about now, because my face is red,” he said.

“So you think it would be fun too,” she teased.

“I didn’t think this was going to be one of those kind of jobs,” he said as the waitress brought the coffee and doughnuts.

They continued to talk until the Sheriff arrived. He was followed by a black hearse with the sign ‘Coroner’ stuck in the window. The Sheriff came in the café and walked over to them. He was a very large fellow with a stomach that was more than proportionate to his size.

“Miss Stapelton, I’m Sheriff Thompson,” he said.

“Alice Stapelton,” she said blindly sticking her hand out roughly in the direction of his voice.

“Why don’t we go out to the site of the accident and you can tell me what happened out there?” he said.

Bobbie had paid for their coffee and doughnuts and was ready to take her hand.

“Why don’t I ride out with Bobbie and you follow us?” she said.

The Sheriff agreed and told the driver of the coroner’s hearse the plan. Bobbie held April’s hand as they went across the street. He opened the door for her and closed it when she was seated.

“I didn’t like the tone of his voice,” she said when Bobbie had started the old pickup truck. “It was like he suspected me of doing something bad.”

“That’s his job,” Bobbie said. “It’s police mentality. Everyone’s a bad guy.”

“Even blind girls?”

“Especially blind girls,” Bobbie joked.

“That’s not funny,” April scolded. “I think I’d be in big trouble if I was ever put in prison.”

“What do you mean?”

“I read in a book once about this blind woman in prison who was beat up and raped by other women inmates. If I was there without my glasses and blind, there’s no telling what they would do to me.”

“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bobbie comforted.

Bobbie stopped his old pickup truck on the road above where Frank’s pickup lay upside down. The Sheriff and the coroner pulled in behind him. Bobbie got out and led April around the back of his pickup where they had all gathered.

“You two stay here while Dr. Nelson and I go down to look at the body,” the Sheriff said.

“Dr. Nelson?” April said as she stood there staring blindly at the group. “We were going to come and see you about his chest pains.”

“I know he had heart problems,” the doctor said. “I’ve been prescribing nitroglycerin for him for about six months now.”

The two of them left Bobbie and April standing there while they went down to the overturned pickup truck. They both looked around before Dr. Nelson came back up the hill. He retrieved a stretcher out of the hearse and took it back down into the ravine. In a while, the two of them bought Frank Cathruthers body back up the hillside and placed it in the back of the hearse.

“Now how about your story?” the Sheriff said when he returned.

“We had breakfast, and Frank said he was going to town. He asked me if I wanted to go with him. He was complaining about being dizzy and having pains shooting down his left arm as well as the chest pains,” April said. “We started for town, and he keeled over and went in the ditch, then into the ravine. We rolled two or three times, and it landed on its top. I felt Frank’s neck for a pulse and listened to his chest. He didn’t have a pulse, and I couldn’t hear him breathing. That’s when I smelled the gasoline. I rolled down the window and crawled out. I was scared that it was going to blow up so I ran away from the pickup.”

“I saw where you ran away by the way the wheat is trampled down,” he said. “How come you ran that way?”

“My glasses were knocked off during the accident. When I got out of the truck, I had no idea where the road was. I turned around when I heard Bobbie’s pickup on the gravel.”

“I take it you can’t see very well without your glasses,” he said.

“I can’t see a thing. I’m totally blind,” Alice said. “I had an eye operation when I was seven for cataracts. They removed the lenses from my eyes, and now the only way I can see at all is with really thick glasses.”

“So you have been blind from the time the pickup truck rolled over?” he asked.

“Yes. My glasses came off on the first roll, and I haven’t been able to see a thing since.”

“OK, that pretty much agrees with what we found here,” the Sheriff said. “I’d like you to stay around the county until we finish this thing up. It’ll take a couple of days.”

“I would like to get to Denver to get more glasses as soon as I can,” Alice said.

“That will have to wait a couple of days,” he said. “Do you have anybody to stay out here with you?”

“Yes. Bobbie will be here,” Alice said.

“Good. I’ll need a statement from you too,” the Sheriff said to Bobbie.

“I’ll be right here,” Bobbie replied

“All right. I need to go back to town now, then I’ll be back,” the Sheriff said.

Bobbie helped Alice into his old pickup truck and then got in himself while Sheriff Thomson walked around the coroner’s hearse to talk to Dr. Nelson. Bobbie drove to the house and parked out front. Alice was out of the pickup and waiting for him by the time he got to her. He led her into the house and into the kitchen. She blindly felt around the cabinets getting her bearings.

“It’s amazing how much more comfortable I suddenly feel,” she said. “I’ve lived in this house since I was four, and I have it pretty well memorized. I can find my way around here now.”

“That’s good,” Bobbie said. “Where’s the bunkhouse?”

“It’s out the back door,” she said, pointing directly at the door over her right shoulder.

“Why don’t you sit down and rest while I go out and get settled in?” he said.

“You can stay in one of the other rooms in here if you want,” she offered.

“I better not,” he replied. “You know how people might talk.”

“Are you afraid that I might attack you in the dark?” she teased. “Remember, it doesn’t matter to me now if it’s light or dark.”

“I can handle myself in a fair fight,” he joked and saw her smile for the first time. “I’m going to go out and put my stuff away and take a shower. You might want to do the same; crawling around in the wheatfield didn’t do wonders for your clothes.”

“I guess I am a mess,” April admitted. “Come on back in when you’re finished. Make yourself at home. I’ll be upstairs.”

Bobbie walked out to his pickup truck and retrieved his belongings, then headed toward the bunkhouse. Alice felt her way to the hallway and easily found the stairway to the second floor. She was at home and confident of her surroundings. She walked into her room and removed all of her clothes. Her blouse, which had been so crispy white only a few hours earlier, no longer had the clean feeling. Even though she could not see it, she knew that it must be dirty from her crawling around and falling down in the wheat field.

Now nude, she felt her way as she walked down the hall to the bathroom and started her bath. While the tub was filling, she was able to find a clean fluffy towel in the linen closet. She set the towel on the toilet seat in its usual place and stepped into the tub of warm water. She slid down so that only her head was exposed. The soothing warm water relaxed her almost instantly as she stared blankly into her nonseeing world. Her mind recounted the actions of the fateful day.

As she lay there, she heard a car driving up. She thought it must be the Sheriff coming back to tell her everything was OK. She pulled the stopper in the tub and set it draining before she stepped out of the tub. She had no problem locating the towel by touch and quickly dried herself off. With only the towel wrapped around her nude body, she began feeling her way back down the hall to her room.

She dropped the towel on the floor and walked toward the still unmade bed. Her foot came down squarely on some strange feeling hard round object. She bent over and picked it up and, uncertain what it was, put it in the drawer of her nightstand. She blindly felt around for her bra and panties on the bed. This time, there was no admiring her nice figure in the mirror. In fact, she was not sure even where the mirror was.

She put on the same shirt that she had worn in the morning when she had fixed breakfast. Her pedal-pusher blue jeans were still on the bed as well. She slipped them on and started blindly feeling her way to the door. As she started through the door, she ran solidly into someone standing in the doorway. She screamed and jumped back.

“Who is it?” she said in a trembling voice.

“Sheriff Thomson” was his reply.

“You scared the dickens out of me,” April said, still trying to catch her breath. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he replied.

“What do you want?” she said nervously.

“I’d like to look around a little,” he said.

“Sure. Go ahead. The place is a mess,” she countered. “What are you looking for?”

“Clues,” he replied.

He walked into the room and began to look around as April stood frozen at the end of the bed. Sheriff Thomson made a thorough search of her bedroom, including opening all the dresser drawers and rifling through them. He knelt down and looked under the bed. He eventually worked his way over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. He took out his handkerchief and removed the small round object that April had stepped on. He held it in such a way as to be able to read the label on the small pill bottle.

“Do you take any medication?” he asked.

“Why no, I don’t,” she replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I just took out a bottle of pills from your nightstand,” Sheriff Thomson said. “It appears to be a prescription made out to Frank Cathruthers. Were you keeping it for him?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered. “If it’s a little bottle, I just found it and put it in the drawer in my nightstand.”

“Frank didn’t put it there?” he asked suspiciously.

“No. Frank was only in the room this morning to help me find my glasses,” she said. “He didn’t put it there. I found it on the floor just now and put it there.”

“I know, I saw you step on it and bend over to pick it up,” he said with a smile on his face that she could not see. “Was Frank usually that helpful to you first thing in the morning?”

“No, he knocked on the door and wondered why I wasn’t down to do breakfast,” she said. “I told him I couldn’t find my glasses, and he came in to help me find them. I wasn’t having any luck.”

“How were you first dressed when you talked to him?” he asked.

“I was nude. The way I always sleep,” she replied. “I put on my robe before he came in the room.”

“I see,” Sheriff Thompson said. “Did Frank make it a habit of coming into your room like that?”

“No. Absolutely not!” April said angrily. “Frank was like a father to me. He wouldn’t do what you are suggesting.”

“How did Frank get those scratches on his arm?” he asked.

“I scratched him this morning,” she said.

“Where were you when that happened?” he pressed.

“Here, in my room,” she replied.

“I see,” Sheriff Thomson said after a long pause.

“I don’t,” April replied. “See what?”

“From the way I see it, it doesn’t look good for you,” he said. “Why did you kill Frank Cathruthers? For the Ranch?”

“I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know about the ranch until later at breakfast,” April insisted.

“Well, here’s the way I’ve put it together,” Sheriff Thomson said. “You found out about him willing the ranch to you, and you decided not to wait any longer. You knew about his heart condition and that he was taking nitroglycerin so you lured him up here on the pretense of losing your glasses. You made an advance to him and managed to get the bottle out of his pocket. In the little scuffle that followed, the bottle fell on the floor and you scratched him. That’s when your glasses broke, and he took them to get them fixed. Your plan began to unravel. He left the room, and you got dressed. He knew he needed more nitroglycerin so he was going to town and because he didn’t trust you here alone, he took you along. Your plan of exciting him was working, because he started having chest pains before you left. His heart gave out, and you still had his medicine here in your room. Unfortunately, the pickup went off the road and rolled and you hadn’t planned on breaking your glasses and being left wandering around blind. Bobbie Jackson came along, and you offered to pay for the two of you to get away from here. You told John Broady to sell the wheat in the elevator so that you would have ready cash. You were going to talk to George Carpenter about selling the place as soon as you could. You’d be gone, and Frank Cathruthers would be buried peacefully up on the hill beside his wife. How am I doing?”

“That is preposterous,” Alice sobbed. “Frank was like a father to me. I wouldn’t kill him.”

“You probably could have pulled it off if you hadn’t scuffled and scratched him. The sad part is, you probably only would have had to wait for a couple of months and he would have been dead according to Doc Nelson,” the Sheriff said. “Now would you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?” she said.

“I’d like to look at your hands. Please hold them out for me,” he said.

Alice obliged and held out her hands. Sheriff Thomson was fast and spun her around so that her face was pressed against the wall. She was handcuffed before she was aware of what was happening.

“April Stapelton, you are under arrest for the murder of Frank Cathruthers,” he said, pulling her away from the wall by the handcuffs now secured behind her back. “I’m going to take you to the jail in Roundup. You will be arraigned, and because we don’t have facilities for women, you will be shipped to the State Women’s Prison awaiting trial.”

“This can’t be happening,” April sobbed as he led her away with tears streaming from her unseeing eyes. “This can’t be happening to me. I didn’t kill him.”

E N D