THE WIDOW CONSTANCE

The only thing to travel faster than stomach virus through a small town is a rumor. It seems that the folks of Travers Falls certainly could tie-up all the loose ends of a story, whether they knew the ending or not. It would make a man freeze in his tracks to do anything publicly.

You take old Mr. Morrow at the train depot for instance. Married over 30 years, nothing much to look at, three boys in their teens, had the man hung for adultery, before there was even a trial! The whole story concocted by a bunch of old biddies who sat and gossiped, turns out the woman who Mr. Murrow was cheating with was his sister from Clair County!

Then there was the time schoolboy Lenny Lukas was accused of some ill-gotten gains, stole a 56’ Buick, brand new so they said! Turns out Lenny’s uncle kicked the bucket and left him a ton of money being Uncle George had no wife or children of his own.

Then there was the widow Constance, and there’s a story for you.

Some people swear it’s not true, while others to their dying day swear it’s so. I know it to be true because I was there. Now the widow was a fine looking woman, a fine looking woman indeed. Slim with golden brown hair, and a waist that was the envy of all the ladies of Hudson County in and around Travers Falls. Skin like alabaster, lips red as a cherry, and teeth so white people would stare into her mouth long after she closed it. By golly, every poke in town and then some looked for the opportunity to look into her big brown eyes and say “morning Miss Constance” or “good evening Miss Constance” or “Fine weather we’re having Miss Constance.” But none of the buggers were brave enough to ask her out for a social. Naw, they were just too afraid she’d turn them down, and it would serve them right!

The so called ladies of Travers Falls often speculated about widow Constance, how she became a widow so young and all that. Why they could talk for hours just speculating on how it all came about. Gather two or three of them together and you could rewrite the theory every time. Of course no one ever asked the widow how it all came about, it being just impolite and all, besides it wouldn’t be as good as the speculation.

The widow came to Travers Falls back in early winter of ’54 I believe, took a job at the local department store in the ladies dresses and what not department, 5 days a week she showed up, rain or shine. People complained she took a lot of time, some say too much time with the men customers looking for a something for their sweethearts or wives. Once they say she even tried on a dress or two for a male customer!

One day this smooth talking fellow from the big city showed up, claimed he was a big time lawyer and wanted to buy something nice for his mamma, and could the widow help him? Well one thing led to another, and rumor had it that she was with child, his child! Soon that city slicker is gone quicker than the hound on the scent, and stories got around some. Seems Doc Samuels wasn’t no talker, never said nothing about his patients, but that wife of his, now she had a sharp tongue, and got it to wag enough to have people stop speculating and start believing things. Well how do you do, the young lady is gone! Just clears out one day, no forwarding address, no phone number, no nothing! Why even I had some wonders myself about her. Of course in those days she wasn’t known as the widow Constance, but Miss Constance like I said before.

Anyway, some time went by, I think it was the summer of ’55, when who do I see walking about the streets of Travers Falls but the young lady! All dressed in black she was, I swear as sure as I can tell you this story: it was her! Now I know there’s no use of speculating and what have you, but that black dress had me thinking; was Ms. Constance a widow now? Did she go off and marry the fellow she been cahooting with, did he DIE!?

Well she wore the black dress long enough for others to speculate just like I did, and before you knew it; she was being called Widow Constance. Of course there was no real proof she was a widow. It seemed that when she walked the street, it was still: “Morning Ms. Constance” and “Good evening Ms. Constance!” by the so-called gentlemen of Travers Falls, but no “Widow Constance”.

She moved into a one-room apartment above a dance hall, and became a hostess for the owner of the place. A fellow would enter alone, and she would escort him to a table, sit him down and order him a libation of sorts, and even light his cigarette! Not that I ever went there, but that was told to me by a reliable source. Then, when Jeremiah’s Elm Street band started to play, she’d be dancing the fellow ragged, slobbering all over the fool, a cigarette dangling from her mouth, the whole place wild with cavorting and what not. Why it was enough to make a man pause.

Then one night, when the music was going strong, and old Jeremiah was playing some of that Rock and Roll stuff they play on the radio and the TV now, I could never like it, the police came. Just marched right in, just like that. Stopped the dancing, the music, and the good times, like it never happened! This big old burley cop takes the widow Constance by the arm and leads her out of the place, her hands cuffed in front of her like she was some kind of murderer, an unlikely thing if ever I saw one!

Well the whole town of Travers Falls was abuzz the next morning. Suddenly, there were more experts in criminal behavior than the populations of Hudson and Clair Counties combined! Now mind you that’s a lot of people, yes it is. Then the newspapers came out and there it was in black and white, the whole truth.

Seems that the widow Constance really was a widow, but not exactly like we speculated. No sir, uh-uh. When I read what happened, I nearly fell off my chair in Don’s Barbershop across from the dancehall. Dan was snipping away, right behind me, reading along with me when I spotted this headline about this murder in the big city by some local lady from Travers that took place. Well who do you think the paper is calling a murder suspect but our Ms. Constance, the Widow Constance!

Seems that the widow got herself in a family way with the big shot city slicker alright: but she wanted him to marry her. Seems he would have nothing to do with that idea, especially since he had a wife already waiting for him in the big city. No, he said he would pay her ever month after she had the baby if she would leave him alone. Turns out she agrees, has the baby but the fellow disappears!

Well you know the old story about a woman scorned, and this was true to life.

She was not to be outsmarted the widow wasn’t. No, she decided to find the fellow once she put the baby up for adoption. She checked his place of employment and found the arrogant SOB sitting in his office in the big city. So what does she do? Why she goes out and buys herself a ladies pistol, that’s what. You know, those little light-weight guns that you can hide in ya woman’s purse that can be concealed easily.

She calls his office pretending to be a potential client and would he see her a.s.a.p.? Well the sucker agrees and when she is escorted into his office, he jumps out of his chair and heads to the door, where she nails him in his cheek. That is his left cheek, right next to his wallet, then once more for good measure, as he spun around, right between the eyes.

Since the trial was held in NYC, I never got to go, but I hear and read that she got 25 years to life for murder, and now waits on ladies only in the prison commissary.