Six
The Dining room table was filled to capacity, each seat was taken and every serving bowl was full to the brim. At the far end sat Arnold Heitzer and to his right his wife Annie. They were a sweet old couple in their late sixties, who had left their productive farm in the hands of children and grandchildren and moved to the city to be closer to medical care, church and friends. They were both round of face and round of body, and they wore perpetually satisfied smiles on their faces.
Next to Annie sat Rudy Prendergast, a traveling salesman in ladies ready to wear dresses. He was a dapper fellow, in his plaid flannel suit, satin striped cravat and celluloid collar. His bay rum slicked hair was parted neatly in the middle and a waxed moustache decorated his upper lip. Despite his rather flamboyant appearance he was what most women considered to be a dreamboat. The drummer came equipped with a story for any given situation and provided much dinnertime entertainment for the boarding house patrons.
Until recently Mr. Prendergast had been the object of Taffy Boyd's affection. Miss Taffy sat next to him, her concentration; much to Rudy's dismay was directed at Dillon who occupied the master chair at the head of the table. Young Matilda sat around the corner of the table from her father and next to Miss Tuttwell. Ma finished the group sitting next to the teacher and on the left hand side of Arnold Heitzer.
Earlier, Matilda had been severely admonished by her father to help Ma set the table and do whatever other small tasks needed to be done for the meal preparation. She had accomplished her chores in a haphazard fashion; so that the diners had to rearrange and exchange with one another soupspoons, butter knives and dessert forks until they each came up with a complete place setting.
Ma Smalley was a good though unimaginative cook. Most meals consisted of soup followed by meat and potatoes. This evening was no different. Her guests never minded for if they wanted something fancier, there was always Delmonico's or the dinning room at the Dodge House to fill their culinary needs.
Conversation was pleasant around the table, after the usual complements to the cook; the talk went from daily activities to upcoming events, family and friends. Rudy Prendergast told of an amusing incident that had happened to him in Spearville, indicating, (surely for Taffy's behalf) that the comely daughter of an area merchant had found him more than attractive. Rudy was rewarded with a sidelong glance and a coquettish pucker from the curvy saloon hostess.
Annie Heitzer took a helping of potatoes and asked of the teacher, "How is our Grandson Herbie doing with his reading Miss Tuttwell?"
"He's coming along Mrs. Heitzer, although his penmanship is deplorable. He needs to practice."
"It's hard to keep a seven year old still long enough to practice." The Grandmother said, she looked to Matilda and smiled. 'Why, I think little Herbie must be just about your age child. Have you met him yet in school? Herbie Heitzer?"
"I don't go to school." Matilda replied.
This was just the opening Miss Tuttwell had been hoping for; she turned to the Marshal. "I've been meaning to speak with you about that Mr. Dillon. Matilda has been in Dodge for several weeks, and certainly she should be in school. Education at her age is most important."
The little girl leaned forward, folded her arms across her chest and raised her chin in defiance, "I don't wanna go to school." Matilda declared. "I hate school."
Matt looked uncomfortable, "No Matilda," he said trying to be firm and aware his patience was wearing thin, "You don't mean that."
"Yes, I do." She replied. Kicking him under the table with her swinging legs.
He winced, and glared at her before turning back to Miss Tuttwell and asking with a small sense of retribution, "Is tomorrow too soon?"
"At this point, time is of the essence Mr. Dillon. There are less than six weeks left to this year's term, it is important to evaluate the girl for placement in next fall's classes."
She turned to Kitty Russell's daughter, "Do you read and write Matilda and can you work sums?"
"Of course I can, I'm not a doodyhead you know."
"Matilda!" Matt said in a threatening voice.
"Yes, well, we shall evaluate what you can and cannot do tomorrow." Miss Tuttwell replied as she reached for the potato bowl, but Matilda grabbed the bowl away from her and hurriedly dumped the last spoonful on to her own plate.
Miss Tuttwell's face hardened considerably. Eyeing the child derisively, she spoke to the father, "I want you to know Mr. Dillon, I do not tolerate any form of insolence in my classroom; all offenders are severely punished."
Ma stood up, "I've got more potatoes in the kitchen Miss Tuttwell, let me go get them for you."
Matilda, still holding the potato bowl, smiled as sweetly as any child could, "That's okay Ma, I'll go get them. I'm the one who took the last spoonful, so its only right that fill up the bowl." Eyebrows around the table raised in unison.
"Thank you child." Ma said as the unified gaze of the table followed Matilda through the swinging door into the kitchen. When more than several minutes had passed Ma half rose from the table calling, "Do you need help in there Matilda?"
"No ma'am," came a sugar coated reply from the other room, and with that the swinging door connecting the kitchen to the dining room again opened and in came the little girl carrying the bowl of potatoes. No one seated around Ma Smalley's dining room table could be exactly sure what happened next, there was no immediate proof that any act on Matilda's part was premeditated; just the same it was mighty suspicious the way it played out. "Here you go teacher." She said, and as the words left her mouth, she seemed to trip on a speck of dust littering the carpet, throwing her small body off balance and sending the bowl flying topsy-turvy in the air so that the contents rained on the head of Miss Tuttwell while the actual vessel landed on the floor behind her with a shattering crash.
There were shrieks from the teacher and Ma, and giggles from Taffy and Rudy, Mr. and Mrs. Heitzer just sat there with their mouths open and poor Matt Dillon wasn't sure what to do for a career in law enforcement had proved ill preparation for fatherhood.
However, innocent until proven guilty didn't come into play to his way of thinking and he grabbed the little girl and gave her a shake. "You hold it right there." he ordered in his official Marshal's voice used specifically for dealing with bank robbers and drunken cowhands.
"It was an accident." She defended meekly. "I tripped."
"You apologize Miss Tuttwell. Then you help Ma clean up this mess."
Ma looked up from floor where she was already at work, "Good heavens Marshal, she didn't do it on purpose and you can't have her clean up broken glass, she's just a little girl."
Miss Tuttwell sat spine unbending, blinking away the runny potatoes as they dripped down her face. By their watered down consistency, it was obvious to the teacher the spuds had been tampered with, a fact that hadn't yet occurred to the rest of the assemblage.
"Matilda, go to the kitchen and bring me a towel please." She requested. Happy to get away from her father's angry clutches Matilda obeyed. The teacher turned to Ma, who was now trying to wipe away the mess from the teacher with a napkin. "Mrs. Smaley are your potatoes usually so runny?"
Ma stopped what she was doing, and frowned. Dillon scowled, "I knew she was guilty." He declared. "Miss Tuttwell, I'm sorry, I guarantee she'll be punished."
Sydney Elvira Tuttwell, put up a hand, "I'll take care of this." Raising her voice loud enough to be heard in the kitchen, the teacher said, "Miss Matilda, are you coming with that towel."
It was several slow moments later that the little girl returned. She moved toward Miss Tuttwell in exaggeratedly unhurried steps. "Here." She said thrusting forward an embroidered dish towel.
"Thank you." Miss Tuttwell replied as she reached for her glass of water. Matilda still holding out the towel said impatiently, "Well, aren't you going to take it?"
Sydney smiled as she raised her hand and poured the contents of her glass of water over the child's head, "No, I think you are going to need it more than I."
The dining room erupted in sniggering applause as the little girl got back some of what was coming to her. Matilda looked around the room and saw everyone laughing at her including her own father. "I hate you." She said, "I hate you all." She turned to run from the room, but Matt Dillon grabbed her arm, spinning her to his side.
"You're going to have to learn Matilda, don't dish it out if you can't take it."She stared back at him with venom spewing from her eyes, "I hate you most of all." She swung her leg back and kicked him in the shin with all her strength.
"Ouch." He hollered in surprise, letting her go to rub the injury. That moment was all it took for Matilda to dart out of his reach and out of the room. She had no safe haven in that house that wasn't a home, but the comfort of her room and the embrace of her doll. They heard her little feet scamper up the back stairs.
Matt made a move to rise. "Let her go." Mrs. Heitzer said from across the table. "She's got to work some things out herself."