The Man Inside the Iron Fence (The Boy in the Woods Pt. 2)

Chapter 13 - It All Comes Back to Me Now

When James glanced up from the newspaper he was reading, his eyes widened, seeing Jonathon approaching. He tossed the paper aside and scrambled out of the Duesenberg, reaching the rear door just as Jonathon got there.

"Sir!" he said, standing at attention after he'd opened it.

"I'll be eating lunch in town today," Jonathon said, climbing into the back seat.

"Aye, sir!"

On the drive into town, Jonathon's heart beat with excitement.

Helen.

In just a few minutes, he'd be seeing her for the first time in a very long time. She'd probably be surprised when she saw him. Would she be happy, excited? What would she say?

"Where will ya be wantin' to eat, sir?" James said from the front seat, interrupting his thoughts. At that moment, he realized he didn't know where Helen lived.

"Uh." He stalled wondering what he should do. "I guess the Golden Skillet." He remembered they had a phone booth, not that he'd ever needed to use it. If it didn't include a phone book, he could call the operator to get Helen's address.

James parked the car in front of the restaurant and then got out to open the door for Jonathon. As Jonathon stood on the sidewalk, he made a decision. "You don't need to wait for me. Go home and I'll call you when I need to be picked up."

"Are ya certain, sir?" James said, suddenly appearing worried. "I can wait for ya."

"Yes, I'm certain!" Jonathon snapped. He didn't want James hanging around. He didn't want anyone to know he was going to see Helen.

"Understood, I'll be waitin' for yer call," James agreed quickly, and gave a quick half salute before Jonathon turned away.

The diner was half full, perhaps because it wasn't noon yet. Jonathon peered inside the lone phone booth, and was glad to see a phone book hanging by a chain.

"Would you like a booth or a table?"

A stocky young fellow with curly red hair Jonathon recognized from high school was waiting with a menu in his hands.

"I'll take the booth in the back, but I need to make a phone call first," Jonathon said. "I'll just have coffee."

"Coming right up!"

Inside the phone booth, Jonathon sat on the small bench seat and slid the folding door closed. He opened the phone book to the white pages and quickly flipped to the M's. Sliding his finger down the column, he located the entry for Mr. and Mrs. Charles C. Moore, and smiled. 272 Elm Street. He knew where that was.

Taking his fountain pen out of his breast pocket, he unscrewed the cap. He didn't think he'd forget the address, but he wasn't about to take any chances. In the small pad of paper he used to take notes when making his rounds at the mine, he wrote down the address.

Seated at the booth, he held his steaming cup of coffee, while he looked out the window at the cars driving past. What was he going to say when he saw her? He couldn't just blurt out a request for a date. He'd have to lead into it slowly, gauging her reaction. After all, it had been a while since he'd been able to spend any real time with her. Her feelings for him might have cooled by now.

What if she's not interested at all? He shook his head with a smile, dismissing the idea almost at once. How could that be possible? At twenty-one, he was the richest and most important bachelor in town.

Back when he'd been seeing her, Helen had been falling in love with him, he was certain of it. If she'd been that interested in him back then, surely she wouldn't reject him now. If he had to woo her again, he'd do it. It might even be fun, taking her out, romancing her, watching her fall in love with him all over again. And unlike last time, there wouldn't be anything to stop him.