Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man

by Fannie Flagg

  September 30, 1958

  Listen to this review:

  Playing the seventy-year-old ax murderess, Harriet Standley, was Miss D. Frances Harper, who thrilled this reviewer with her magnificent performance in Yellow Jack Fever. She has once again proved to Azalea Playhouse audiences that there is nothing this very talented actress can’t do. Her gestures and voice were perfect as the old woman and the added touch of palsy and deafness was very effective. The Man Who Came to Dinner is a play with something for the special benefit of everyone in the city limits, that is sure to banish dull care and provides an uproarious evening for the most fastidious and most varied tastes.

  Opening night was great. Professor Teasley had a scare, though. After the play was over, he thought his mother had died, but she was just in a deep sleep. I could have told them that. I heard her snoring all through the play.

  Daddy and Jimmy Snow came to the show. Daddy thought I looked just like Grandma Pettibone in that old-age makeup. Jimmy Snow was a riot in his suit. He looked so funny. Nobody wears bow ties anymore. I wish Mother could have seen me in a play other than Mother Goose.

  Since I had such a small part this time, Professor Teasley is going to give me the lead in the next play called Private Lives by an Englishman named Noel Coward. The only bad thing is I am awfully tired, I’m not getting any sleep at all. But I have to graduate.

  I don’t have a chance at college. Daddy hasn’t saved a penny. He’s already borrowed on his life insurance and owes money all over town. My grades are so bad I probably wouldn’t be able to get into college anyhow, but I am pretty sure that Katherine Cornell and Gertrude Lawrence finished high school.

  October 19, 1958

  Do you believe someone would be so inefficient as not to check the scenery before a performance, especially on opening night? J. R. Phillips, the stage manager of Private Lives, ruined the entire show. Everything was just fine until the second act when we were in my Paris apartment. Richard Ledbetter, who plays my husband, was supposed to say, “Some women are like gongs. They should be struck, regularly,” and make an exit; but when he tried to get out, the idiot door was stuck and wouldn’t open. He almost pulled the whole set down before the doorknob came off in his hand. I was looking right at him and I still don’t believe it. He left the stage through the fireplace and took the doorknob with him. Not only that, the other two actors came onstage through the window. We all were forgetting our lines and instead of leaving well enough alone, J.R. kept banging the door, trying to get it unstuck. All he succeeded in doing was knocking the pictures off the wall. When he finally got the door open, he couldn’t close it, and everyone in the audience saw him standing there during the entire act

  The reviews were all about the scenery. My name was only mentioned once. Mr. Cecil thought the performance was the funniest thing he had ever seen, and it was the first play Mrs. Teasley stayed awake for. But I am collecting reviews and I would have liked a good one. I will never again go on the stage unless I personally check all the doors. I told J.R. not to feel bad, that it could have happened to anyone, but it couldn’t happen to anyone, just the retards!

  Poor Richard Ledbetter was hysterical because his mother had been in the audience, and he went entirely to pieces after curtain calls. I am beginning to think that no matter what people say, men have more dramatic temperament than women. Richard sure takes longer to put on his makeup than I do. When he comes into the dressing room, he looks at himself in the mirror the whole time he is talking to you. He is nice, but vain. Everyone says that he stuffs socks in his underwear.

  October 27, 1958

  I am operating the lights for The Seagull. Boy, is that one long play, but it got great reviews. Listen to this:

  The play was filled with the gloomy haunting beauty and intense emotion of Russian people and captivated the spectators to such an extent that the atmosphere of the action crossed the footlights and pervaded the entire auditorium filled to capacity.

  The reviewer obviously didn’t see Mrs. Teasley. She slept through the whole thing. My sentiments exactly!

  I am in the next show. It is a musical called Pal Joey, and I am playing another old lady, this one on a subway. All she does is chase after three sailors.

  Grandmother Pettibone wrote me. She is very sad because her friend Ollie Meeks died. They all got together and had a Memorial Bingo Game in her honor. Grandma had needed O 69 for the jackpot and since that had always been Ollie’s lucky number, she felt that it was a sign that Ollie was happy.

  November 1, 1958

  Thank God J.R. has redneck relatives. After rehearsal he told me he and his cousin Earle were going downtown and watch the police raid the queer bar. His uncle, who is a policeman, tipped him off so he and his cousin could have some fun. I panicked when it dawned on me Mr. Cecil might be in that bar. I made J.R. get me down there as fast as he could and threatened that if he didn’t, I would tell everyone in Hattiesburg he was a big queer.

  J.R. had been right about the police. They were coming around the corner at the very moment I jumped out of his car and ran in and started yelling at the top of my lungs for Mr. Cecil. I searched all over the room, but he wasn’t anywhere around. I was still looking for him when guess who I saw hiding in a corner! Sally Gamble’s father! I almost had a heart attack. I ran over and said, “Mr. Gamble, you’ve got to get out of here,” and grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the men’s room with me.

  He was as white as a sheet and he kept saying over and over, “This will ruin me!”

  I tried to get the window in the bathroom open, but it was nailed shut. We could hear all the commotion going on in the next room, glass breaking and people screaming. Mr. Gamble was shaking like a leaf. I didn’t know what else to do, so I pushed him in a stall and told him to lock the door behind him. Just as I was headed for the other stall to hide, the door burst open and two policemen grabbed me by the collar and yelled, “Come on, you stinking fairy,” and started pulling me into the other room.

  I grabbed onto the door and started screaming, “I’m a girl.” I had on blue jeans, so I guess they thought I was a boy at first. They were so shocked to discover I was a girl they let me go. They wanted to know what in the hell I was doing in the men’s room there and I had to think fast. “My name is Kay Bob Benson and I am here with my father, Reverend Benson, from the First Calvary Baptist Church. He and I are down here looking for my brother, Lem, who we think went off with some pervert.”

  They said, “Who’s in that other stall?” and started banging on the door and yelling for whoever it was to come on out. I stood in front of the door and tried to stop them.

  “Let him alone. The reverend is in there throwing up. This evil place has made him sick.”

  They pushed me aside and jerked the door open and sure enough, there was Mr. Gamble throwing up all over the place. They looked at him and backed off and said, “Well, all right, but you and the reverend get out of here.” They left. I don’t think they wanted to fool with somebody who was throwing up like that, so I got Mr. Gamble and we ran out the back door.

  It took me forever to find J.R. He had parked the car two blocks away. Big chicken! Mr. Gamble was pretty shook up and could hardly talk. I knew where the Gambles lived, so I made J.R. drive him home and let him out. When he got out of the car, he threw up all over again.

  The next day there was a big write-up in the paper. A lot of the Cecilettes were arrested, and so were some very important businessmen. Thank goodness Mr. Cecil hadn’t been there, but after the raid Father Stephens dropped Mr. Cecil like a hot potato. He was scared he would get found out if he were seen with Mr. Cecil after they put all the Cecilettes’ names in the paper. I never did like him in the first place. Mr. Cecil is heartbroken.

  But do you know what he did? He took all his savings and paid the bail for his friends. He said he had to do it because otherwise there wouldn’t have been another sequin sewn in the entire state of Mississippi.

  Sally Gamble would have a
fit if she knew where her father had been, but I’m not going to tell her. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Mr. Cecil, and J.R. isn’t going to say a word, I’m sure of that.

  November 4, 1958

  Do you know who is going to be in Pal Joey? Ray Layne, the boy singer who I liked years ago in Shell Beach, the one who sang at the Blue Gardenia Lounge. He’s twenty-two and is singing with a group of three other guys, called the Four Jacks, and he’s broken up with his old girlfriend.

  I’ve never heard anybody with a better voice. I like him more than Eddie Fisher. He still has curly hair and long eyelashes. Why is it the boys always get long eyelashes? He looks like a much nicer version of Rory Calhoun. Was he surprised to see me! He hugged me and said he had often thought about writing me.

  Seventeen is not too young for someone of twenty-two. I am very mature for my age. I’ll see him again tomorrow at rehearsal. I’d give anything if I weren’t playing that stupid old lady. He is probably the best-looking person I know. It is fate that he is in the show. I am probably in love. The only problem is he is a Catholic, but that’s no big deal. I can convert. If Mr. Cecil can do it, so can II Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream!

  November 18, 1958

  Ray and I are dating. I knew it would happen this way. His mother is wonderful—his father died when he was fifteen, and he has a little brother named Bobby who is adorable but not as cute as Ray. He is real sweet to his mother, and you know what they say: You can tell how a man will act to his wife by the way he treats his mother.

  Everyone loves Ray, especially in his sailor outfit in the show. Offstage he wears plaid shirts with buttons on the collars, white wool socks with loafers, and his pants are always pressed. He smells good all the time, and he is the best kisser that ever lived. I never understood why people liked to do that until now.

  Ray calls me the most affectionate girl he has ever known. I try to stay away, from him, but I can’t. I want to be with him all the time. I’ve looked at every picture that his mother has of him, including him as a baby. There are also a lot of pictures of that girl he used to go with, whose name is Ann. She wore glasses just like mine.

  Sometimes after the show, we go down to this nightclub called Canebrake and when they ask him to sing, he dedicates “Because of You” to me and stares right at me until I think I’m going to faint. I still can’t believe he is my boyfriend! When he is a big star, we’ll live in New York and he’ll be on the Ed Sullivan Show or have a show of his own.

  I hate where we are living. When Ray comes over to see me, Jimmy Snow and Daddy sit in the room with us and act like he has come to see them. Ray doesn’t seem to mind, but I could scream. I wish they’d leave us alone. I never thought I was a jealous person, but now when I see him talking to someone else, I get sick. I asked Paris how you knew if you were in love, and she said, “Don’t worry, when it happens, you’ll know.” The first day I saw him at rehearsal, I knew it. I can’t sleep or eat.

  Besides being the best kisser in the whole world, he is the best dancer. We slow dance over at the Canebrake and I can follow him. I don’t try to lead at all. I told Ray I loved him the second time I went out with him. I know you are supposed to wait until the boy says it, but my feelings just slipped out. If I had a million dollars, I would buy him all the clothes he wanted and a car.

  His mother says he’s crazy about me, too. I call her up sometimes and get her to tell me stories about when he was young. I wish I had been his mother so I could have been with him from the moment he was born. I love him so much I wish I could cook him up and have him for dinner. I love to brush his hair and look at his hands. Ray Layne! Ray Layne! Ray Layne! Ray Layne! Ray Layne! I wrote Pickle and told her that I was in love.

  Ray Layne!

  December 28, 1958

  This is the best Christmas I have ever had. Ray, his mother and myself and his little brother drove around the city looking at Christmas decorations. The house that won the prize this year was in the Italian section. Pink spotlights were all over the roof and on top was Santa Claus and seven reindeer. The deer looked like they were suspended in air. I never figured out how they got them to stay up like that. A huge red and white ribbon was tied all around the front of the house, it was a big Christmas package. A sign on it said, “Do Not Open Until December 25.” On one side of the lawn was a manger with all the figures and plastic sheep and cows standing by, on the other side was a little bench with three of Santa’s helpers making toys and a styrofoam snowman with a big card saying, “Merry Christmas from the Pegnellies.”

  We went to midnight mass and it was beautiful. Ray was an altar boy at one time. Afterwards we opened our presents. I gave Ray three sweaters, a tie, an ID bracelet and a record of Johnny Mathis singing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” I gave his little brother some paints because he loves to paint and Mrs. Layne a mirror and brush set. They gave me some fuzzy slippers and a flannel nightgown. Ray’s present was just a box of candy, but I didn’t care. Then Ray poured us all a glass of champagne to celebrate. When I looked in my glass, there was ah engagement ring! I couldn’t say anything. I never dreamed he was going to do that. His mother started screaming and jumping up and down, hugging both of us. He hadn’t told her anything about it. I’ve never been so happy. Thank God I didn’t swallow the ring.

  I was spending the night with them, so we all got into our pajamas and I put on my new nightgown. Finally, Mrs. Layne and Bobby went to bed. I couldn’t wait to grab Ray and kiss him to death. I wanted him to stay with me all night, but he said he shouldn’t. When I asked him why, he said the way I was kissing him, we might get into trouble. I didn’t care, but he told me he had promised Jimmy Snow he wouldn’t touch me. I could have killed Jimmy Snow with a hatchet six times. What Jimmy Snow doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Finally, Ray agreed! Madame Bodini never tells!

  Jimmy Snow and Daddy had a long talk with me about getting married. They wanted me to make sure I knew what I was doing. Jimmy Snow said a singer doesn’t make much money, but I can get a job and help Ray until he becomes a big star. And he will be.

  January 27, 1959

  I am taking catechism lessons so I can be converted to Catholicism and make Ray happy. According to Mrs. Layne, converts usually turn out to be the best Catholics. Oh, brother! You ought to hear. They make you sign not only your life away but your unborn children’s lives and their children. They want you lock, stock and barrel. If that priest thinks I am going to have children until I drop dead, he’s got another thought coming. But I just sit there and say, “Yes, Father, no, Father.” Personally I don’t want any children for a long time. I want Ray all by myself. We are going to live with his mother and brother, and that’s bad enough. And I’ll tell you another thing. If I do get pregnant, I am not going to a Catholic hospital. If there are any complications, they ask the father if he wants the mother or the child. I know Ray loves me, but I am not taking any chances.

  Ray is back singing with his group at this nightclub called the Jack O’Lantern that’s shaped like a pumpkin. They are wonderful, better than the Four Freshmen. I go over every night. I like the other guys a lot, but Goose is my favorite. He’s real silly! They kid Ray about being an old married man soon and will all be in the wedding party.

  Grandmother Pettibone can’t come because of her sick husband, so the only two people I have to sit on the bride’s side are Daddy and Jimmy Snow. Daddy will have to give me away, so that leaves just Jimmy. But I invited everybody from the theater to sit on my side: Mr. Cecil and the ten Cecilettes, and Paris Knights. That should be plenty of people. I just want it to be over with.

  February 16, 1959

  Yesterday Tootie and Dolores asked me what my pattern was. I didn’t know what they were talking about. It’s what kind of silverware you want. I told them I didn’t want any silverware, but they said you have to have a pattern when you got married, and you must go down to the store and pick out the one you like. That way people can come in and ask what your pattern is, so I made Mr. Cecil go
downtown and help me pick one. He’s crazy about silverware. His choice has grapes on the handles and is called Cornucopia. There is a lot to do in order to get married.

  Jimmy Snow is acting like a grouch ever since I got engaged. All he does is sit around and drink and watch the television set Do you believe that a grown man’s favorite show is Howdy Doody? Jimmy may not have much education. He never reads or writes or anything. I am beginning to wonder if he can, but I would never ask him because I might hurt his feelings. He is very sensitive where I am concerned. He doesn’t have any family at all except for Daddy and me, which is why I am extra-nice to him on his birthday. I asked Daddy what was the matter with Jimmy lately and he said that Jimmy doesn’t think Ray is good enough for me.

  I want to spend my honeymoon in the Wigwam Motel, out on Highway 42. There, are about six wigwams in the motel.

  Mrs. Layne and I had a long conversation the other night when Ray was working. Since I didn’t have any women in my family, she wanted to talk to me. She asked me if I had a diaphragm.

  I said, “Yes, of course I did.”

  She seemed shocked and said, “When did you get it?”

  I thought she had gone crazy. “I was born with one.”

  But she wasn’t talking about that kind of diaphragm.

  “I only had two children and my husband, who was much more religious than I am, never did know why.” She explained what a diaphragm is and what you do with it and told me not to depend on Ray if I didn’t want any children. It was up to me to protect myself. She asked me if I had ever had a pelvic examination before, and I told her no. She insists I have one before I get married and made an appointment with this doctor next week.