A/N: Quick update for once. I don't like this one much, though. I took some of Ruth's speech about praying and breaking Frank's neck from the film because I liked it, so it's in here. Please review!
Months after Buddy's birth, Frank came back into my life. He appeared late one night with the KKK, not doing anything yet, just asking about the baby. I could tell he wanted him, and I was worried.
But time passed and he never showed up again. I was jumpy and nervous all the time, just waiting for him to come and take my child from me. When I had to leave him in Sipsey's care because I was going to the annual church revival, I worried every second I was gone. It wasn't that I didn't trust Sipsey, I just couldn't bear the idea of Frank being anywhere near Buddy, especially when I wasn't there.
When I came home from the revival, everyone seemed different somehow. Idgie was hiding something from me; there was a wall behind her eyes that I had never seen used against me. Smokey Lonesome had left town and nobody would tell me why. Big George was boiling hogs, same as always, but it seemed early to me. Sipsey was quieter when alone with me and chattier with everyone else. The only one that acted normal, causing me a certain amount of relief, was Buddy, the same happy and loving baby as ever.
Still, late at night a few days after the revival, after Buddy was asleep, the café was empty, and Idgie and I were in bed, I confronted her about it.
"Idgie… what's going on?" I asked. She didn't answer. "I know you're awake. I can't let you keep lying to me."
"I ain't lyin'," she sighed. "I never lied to you, Ruth. You've got to listen to me; it's better if you don't know."
"I need to know, honey," I tried again. "Everyone knows but me."
She grinned. "Not everyone. It really doesn't even matter—"
"Idgie," I said firmly. "Smokey's gone, Sipsey won't talk to me but she can't shut her mouth around anyone else, George is boiling hogs weeks earlier than usual. And that Sheriff, Curtis Smoote. Frank's gone missing, but why's he looking here? It sounds like he thinks one of you killed him."
"Relax," she whispered, sliding in closer to me, snaking her arms around my body, and bringing her lips close to my ear. "If you're so worked up about it, what do you think is going on? You must have some idea?" Her tone was seductive, but I resisted.
"Do you want to know what I think?" I pulled back. "I don't know what to think. I'm scared out of my mind that Frank is gonna come back for Buddy and that he'll hurt one of you and I think you're all acting funny because you're worried about the same thing. Sometimes I wonder if I should just pack up and leave, and take Buddy. Frank wouldn't find us and you all would be safe. You could tell him I left and you didn't know where I'd gone, then he wouldn't come back here and hurt any of you and we could hide forever."
"Ruth…" Idgie murmured. "No, you can't leave, I…" she sounded frantic after a few more seconds. "Ruth, you don't understand; it's not mine to tell and it's safer for you if you don't know. Just please, please don't leave. I can't—"
"Shh," I soothed. This time I initiated the embrace, pulling her in towards me and holding her close. "I could never want to leave, I just feel like it would be safer for everyone if I left. Frank's dangerous and I don't want to bring that here. And I can't let him find me, I don't know what I'd do. It's better if I never see him again." Idgie tried to interrupt me, but I stopped her. "I've prayed my whole life, Idgie. I prayed when I first fell in love with you; I prayed whenever Frank would beat me; I prayed when my momma was sick and dying. Whatever I needed, strength, hope, forgiveness, I prayed. But if he tries to take Buddy from me, I won't pray. I'll kill him."
"Listen to me," she said deliberately. "You don't have to worry about him anymore."
I just shook my head. "He'll never stop. He'll never leave us alone."
"Ruth," she said, and her tone was so serious, intense, and almost pleading that I had to listen. "You will never have to worry about Frank Bennett again."
"You killed him," I breathed, shaking my head. I didn't know whether it was out of fear, disbelief, liberation, or some mixture.
"No," she said. She pressed a hand gently to my cheek. "I didn't kill him. But I can promise you that he's never coming back."
"So he is dead then."
"Yes," she whispered in my ear, as if afraid someone would hear her. "It wasn't me, honey, I promise."
"Who?" was all I could manage.
"I can't," Idgie replied, and I could tell that she wanted to. "All I can tell you is that it wasn't me, and that the person who did it won't be caught."
"They won't be caught? How could you know that?"
"They'll never find a body," she assured me. "Go to sleep."
Well, Idgie took her own advice, but I couldn't force my eyes to stay closed. No matter how much reassurance she offered, I wasn't convinced. Perhaps she thought the body had been hidden well enough, but what if it was found? From what I understood, the killer could have been Sipsey, Big George, or Smokey Lonesome. The courts would never believe a black man or woman, or a hobo, over a 'respectable' white man. Or what if Idgie had been lying, and she really had killed him? I wasn't sure how I'd feel about that; on one hand it was murder, but it was Frank, who had beat me and raped me for years and no doubt would have used the same violence to take Buddy away from us. Or what if he really wasn't dead at all; what if the whole thing had been a story invented to comfort me and he was still out there somewhere?
Early in the morning, while it was still dark, Idgie woke up and saw that my eyes were open.
"Have you slept at all?" she yawned, and I shook my head tiredly. "What, don't you trust me?"
"I don't know what to think," I sighed. "I know you tell stories, Idgie."
"I swear to you this isn't a story," she promised. "He's dead and you're safe."
If I still had doubts, her certain tone was banishing them. This had to be one thing that Idgie would never lie to me about.
"Okay," I said, shifting around on the pillows. "I believe you."
