Contemporary Women's Fiction: Agnes Hopper Shakes Up Sweetbriar (Humorous Women's Fiction) (12 page)

“Didn’t used to be that way. Had the best lamb fries and fiddle player in Chester County. Your daddy and I went for years.”

“Things change. There’s talk of closing it down.”

“That’s a shame. A real shame. Surely there’s some place to go dancing in Sweetbriar.”

Betty Jo studied her watch again and sat forward on the stool. “Mother, is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?”

I wanted to talk to my daughter—really talk. Tell her my misgivings about this place, the things I’d heard, and some I’d seen for my own self. I thought about asking her to help me find another place for me and Pearl to live, but I knew I’d have to do that on my own. She would be dead set against such a thing and probably enlist Prissy’s help to stop me.

So instead of talking about anything important, I said, “Do you remember the Rambling Ridge Boys or were you too young?”

She stood, straightened her shirt, and moved toward the door. “I don’t remember them. I’ve got to go, Mother. Don’t get so worked up over things that don’t matter. You know what that does to your stomach.”

“No place to dance in Sweetbriar anymore?”

She reached over and patted my hand. “Not unless you count the high school. Every Friday night this summer they’ve been having a fifties sock hop. Doing the jitterbug and the twist in their white socks. Sometimes they have contests judged by Sweetbriar’s Women’s Club, though I’ve never been a judge myself.”

“My goodness, that sounds like fun. It surely does.”

She patted my hand again. “You get some rest. Relax your stomach.”

“What time you coming tomorrow?”

“Around two. Unless you want me to pick you up for church. I know you don’t like town churches, but after a while you wouldn’t know any difference.”

I sat up on the edge of my bed, and the room whirled a slow dance of its own. That blasted vertigo was acting up again. I didn’t have time for such as that. It took a few seconds to settle down before things came into focus. “No, if I can’t get out to Jones Gap, I’ll do my worshipping here. A preacher in training is coming from the Bible college down in Fruitland. Be good to hear what the young ones are saying. Don’t forget to bring Miss Margaret.”

“I just hope we don’t get in trouble for disobeying the rules. We’ll keep her in the yard for a few minutes and then put her back in the car. Henry’s already given her a bath. He’s coming too. Says he misses you, but he’s glad you had to leave Maggie behind. That’s what he calls her, Maggie, and he talks to that pig like she’s human. Silliest thing I ever heard.”

She closed my door and then opened it again, poking her head
inside. “You know we’ve got to find another place for that pig. She can’t go with us. Get some rest now. Don’t wear yourself out or get in a tizzy over things that don’t amount to a hill of beans.”

With a wave, she was gone.

“My precious Miss Margaret and that Prissy Warden Queen Bee is more than a hill of beans,” I said to Charlie. He agreed and told me to watch myself. I got up slow, but my swimmy-head had cleared. I turned on my radio and the “Tennessee Waltz” floated over the airwaves. I slipped my chenille robe over my dress and danced until the room got to twirling again, and I had to quit.

A long blast of the emergency signal interrupted a young fellow doing some fine banjo picking … and then an announcement.

“Afternoon thunderstorms rolled over the Appalachians and marched across our state with a shaking and clanging of swords,” declared Ralph Robinson of Berea’s WNOX, “eighteen miles east of Sweetbriar.” Ralph passed weather information to the locals in dramatic fashion. “Keep your eyes on the skies, dear people, but be ready to run for cover if you hear this signal. Remember, this has been only a test, but someday—someday it could be the real thing.”

“Ralph, you should have gone to Hollywood,” I said to the radio before turning it off and going to look out the window.

The air was a yellow-greenish color, the sky awash with glowing whiteness. Gusts of wind skipped and danced among the great oaks and maples, turning leaves to their silvery undersides. Then the storm, tired of teasing, left without a drop of rain.

I thought of one of Ralph’s favorite predictions. “If you see a storm at play, it will return again someday.”

“Charlie,” I said, “the storm in my life is named Miss Johnson, and that woman is not playing or fooling around. She’s like a black thundercloud full of meanness.”

A
s soon as the Timely News sailed onto the front porch that afternoon I was waiting. But the classified section had no new listings for sale or rent. Now what?

Later, most of the residents gathered on the porch. I suppose we waited for the supper bell, even though it was not yet four-thirty.

Pearl was tending to the Boston ferns, her daily afternoon ritual, humming off-key while she squirted a fine mist from a plastic bottle. Her jingling bracelets added a soothing touch to the sounds she made as she fussed over
her
plants. For the moment, at least, Pearl seemed … she seemed content. That was it—at peace.

I envied her, but only briefly after I thought things through. Knitting soon occupied my hands, Miss Margaret my thoughts. Maybe I could try the sweater on her tomorrow if my daughter brought her like she’d promised.

My precious pig would be frisky as a new puppy, and I’d have to get down on the ground and play with her ’til she would roll over on her back and let me rub her belly. She’d close her eyes with those long black lashes and let out little giggles. Who says pigs can’t laugh? Mine surely can.

Smiley sat in the rocker next to me. He had both hands on his knees, face beaming. And what was making this man so happy? Nothing but watching Alice sleep, glasses halfway down her nose, mouth hanging open most unladylike.

Alice worried me. She seemed to have a spurt of energy when playing bingo, but now she looked drained of any life at all. Maybe her time to leave this earth was drawing near. Most of the time, at least lately, all she
wanted to do was sleep. And when she was awake, she didn’t look right in her eyes. Mama said you could always tell if someone was sick by the eyes. I wondered if Alice always took something at night—Nyquil or some pills she had hidden in her room. And why was Miss Johnson giving her medicine in the first place? And Pearl? Was her calm manner because of medication too? I would need to be more observant to what was really going on.

Diamond Lil wheeled over, parked as close to our group as she could, and clamped her brakes. From a side pouch, she produced a deck of cards. As she began a game of solitaire on her wheelchair tray, her jeweled hands sparkled in the sunlight. I tried to count the number of rings she wore, but their glare danced before my eyes until I soon gave up and resumed my knitting.

Lil had something on her mind besides cards and proceeded to tell us. “My Edward’s a financial planner. Smart with figures since he was a child, if I do say so myself. I wasn’t surprised when he was promoted to president of Macon First. Not surprised at all.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Always saying I need to invest my money. Suggested the stock market. ‘Too risky,’ I told him. And savings bonds give a pitiful return. So, I’ve made a decision.”

She looked around our group expectantly. No one asked her what she had decided. No matter. She would tell us anyway, without a doubt.

“I’m going to buy this place. Then all these old people will pay
me
to live here. I’m surprised my Edward didn’t see this opportunity first. Francesca Lilian Brown, owner of Sweetbriar Manor. What do you think about that?”

Peering over the rim of my glasses, I said, “Make sure you hire a decent cook and fire you know who.”

Smiley looked at me and frowned. Then he went over to Alice and adjusted a small pillow behind her head. I needed to talk to Smiley—soon, and in private.

Pearl stood motionless, listening, her spray bottle held high in the air. Finally, she spoke, her words taking on a high-pitched whine much like her humming. “No more ties, right? No more ties?” She dropped her spray bottle in an agitated motion and rubbed her wrists.

As her bracelets slid away, I gasped when I saw, for the first time, purple bands on her arms where her bracelets had always been. Pearl was probably being restrained at night so she wouldn’t wander. What
else was being done around here? Was everyone blind or just in denial?

I looked around. No one was paying any attention to Pearl. Did they think she was touched in the head and didn’t deserve to be treated with kindness, like Ida Mae?

Pearl narrowed her eyes, picked up the water bottle, and aimed the nozzle in my direction. “Aphids are eating up the roses. I can hear them chewing all day and all night.”

“I didn’t know that, Pearl. What would you suggest we do about it?”

She didn’t have anything else to say about roses or ties, but plopped in the rocker next to me and took up her humming again. She rocked like her life depended on it.

Lil was engrossed in her card game, diamonds in rapid motion. “Yes sir, I’m going to buy this place. I’ll call my Edward after dinner. He’ll be so pleased. All these old people paying me to live here. I’ll be rich, girls.” She lowered her voice. “And yes, Agnes, the first order of business will be to get rid of—”

When she stopped short, we looked first at the blur of diamonds waving in the air and then up to a figure standing among us. He seemed to appear out of nowhere—bare chest, dirty jeans, and dusty black cowboy boots with silver toes. The sun cast a glow over his long curls, edging his cinnamon-colored hair with gold. Alice woke up and gazed at him. Everyone gazed, or rather gawked, with slack jaws. Even Pearl stopped humming and ogled him. So did Smiley, who shaded his eyes.

Alice was first to speak, her head moving forward like a chicken as she tried to see him better. “What can we do for you, young man? Are you lost?”

He had our full attention. As a matter of fact, our attentiveness was intense.

“No, I ain’t lost, ma’am. I come from Case’s Produce Market down the road. Walk past here ever day after work and see you folks always sittin’ out here. I wave and some of you wave back. Told myself the very next time Mr. Case give me some leftover fruit, I was gonna bring it to you’ns. Well, today he did, and so I did. And here it is.”

He leaned over and placed a wire-handled cardboard basket on the small wicker table in the center of us. “He was gonna toss ’em out to the birds anyhow, but they’s real good berries. Juicy and sweet. Sweet as all you ladies on this here porch.”

“Well, my, my,” Lil said, flouncing in her chair and fluttering her hands over the three strands of pearls hanging between her ample
breasts. I noticed red blotches creeping up her neck. Alice squinted and adjusted her glasses, doing the chicken dance with her neck again.

Smiley reached over to the basket and took a large strawberry. He blew on it and bit down to the little green leaves. Everyone seemed to wait for his judgment. He shook his head. “I don’t know, ladies. They’re mighty sweet, but I don’t know if they’re as sweet as—”

“Daddy loves strawberries with thick, sweet cream. I’m going to fix him some right after supper,” Pearl said in a faraway voice. Then she returned to her humming.

I decided all this nonsense had gone on long enough, so I reached for my red purse. “Strawberries? This late in the season? Probably imported and have as much taste as a tomato in the middle of winter. How much do you want? I’ll give you a fair price, but not a penny more.”

You would have thought I’d offered the man a snake the way he jumped back. “Oh no, lady. I don’t want no money. Them berries was give to me, and I’m givin’ ’em to you. That’s all they is to it.”

He made a little bow as he backed up. Then he turned and left us with a little backward wave. He walked with a stiff knee, which gave a jerk to his stride, stepping with his left foot and dragging his right. Step … drag. Step … drag.

The strange man’s long hair swayed and jerked with the same rhythm, brushing his tanned back. All eyes watched him cross the porch, thump down the steps, and disappear out of sight. The sound of his boots made a hard scraping sound that echoed against the sidewalk. Lil smacked a card onto her tray. “Well, I never—”

“Fresh fruit. A true gift from heaven,” Alice interrupted. “God uses all kinds of people for his purposes. Did anyone notice his beautiful hair?”