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

by Carol Heilman

  My new friend banged her fist on the door. “Hurry up!” she demanded. “Emergency. Open up.”

  When the door flew open, William Statton came out zipping his pants. I rushed past him and slammed the door behind me.

  Lil stayed on the other side of the door. I heard her talking to William, and then she told Pearl and a woman named Susie to go on down to their rooms if they needed to use the bathroom. “The walk will do you good.”

  Several minutes later I opened the door. “I don’t think I’ll want another one of Blind George’s chili dogs for a long time. Well, at least a week or two.”

  “That’s where you went? To that place? My, my. You sure you don’t want to learn to play bridge?”

  “No thanks. Were you in the garden too? All I saw was Pearl.”

  “Watched you from my bedroom window. I’m in the last room down the right hall, and I have a view of the whole garden. Spend a lot of time watching the birds come to that feeder next to the goldfish pond. My son, Edward, he’s president of Macon First you know, gave me one of those suction bird feeders for Mother’s Day.”

  “I love to watch the birds,” I said, turning to leave, but she wasn’t finished.

  “Stuck it to my window and filled it with thistle. All I get is finch—gold finch, purple finch. Messed up my window. I like to see the cardinals and jays and redheaded flickers and doves. You know, big birds with big personalities.”

  I didn’t know, but I nodded anyway. “What did you see in the garden this morning?”

  “One of the biggest hawks I’d ever seen. Don’t know where he came from. Magnificent creature. Swooped down and carried off a squirrel, so smooth and graceful Pearl didn’t even know it. She kept right on trimming that big azalea.”

  As I walked down the hallway toward my room, the wheelchair stayed by my side. I decided to ask her straight out. “No, I mean what did you see me doing?”

  She stopped to reach inside a pouch and held up a pair of binoculars. “Saw you disappear. One minute you were there. The next—gone. Disappeared like Alice in Wonderland. If I saw you, so could she.”

  “She who?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

  “The Queen Bee watches the garden from her upstairs window but usually only after dinner. You were probably safe. Sometimes, late in the day, I’ll wheel myself out to the fountain. Look at the goldfish swimming around and around, going nowhere. Happy because they don’t know any better.”

  “Queen Bee? That name suits her. How do you know she watches the garden?”

  Lil reached into another pocket and pulled out a hand mirror. “In the garden I always park with my back to the house. Watch her peeking from her room upstairs, behind lace curtains. I see her in my mirror, watching the garden. That woman’s never done anything to me, but she gives me a bad feeling in my gut.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “G-5, G-5,” called the lady in a blue-check dress. “Check your cards for G-5.”

  Alice studied one of her bingo cards through her magnifying glass. Everyone had two cards and a pile of red circles, giving each person two chances to win—except for Lollipop, who insisted on having seven cards stretched across in front of him. Three games had been played so far, Alice the winner of one of them.

  The fourth game began. Before long, I heard her whisper and then watched her make the sign of the cross. “Forgive me, Jesus, I’ve won again.” She waved her hand in the air and shouted, “Bingo. I’ve got bingo. Again.”

  A stout lady who looked like her girdle was too tight, checked Alice’s card and confirmed her as the winner. Another lady brought the cloth-lined peach basket over. Alice reached in, eyes closed. She pulled out another jar of perfumed hand cream and lined it up on the table. I wondered if the men had to choose out of the same basket and turned to Smiley. “That’s her second time out of four games. Do you think she’s cheating?”

  “Alice? She’s going to be sitting on the front row of heaven.”

  “Then you’re saying she’d never cheat, huh?” To Charlie I grumbled, “I’ll be lucky to slip into heaven on the back row. Don’t like bingo anyway.”

  The stout lady told everyone to clear their cards for the next game. I asked if we could turn them in for new ones.

  “Maybe after the next round.”

  Lollipop was busy fiddling with a sucker. While he concentrated his efforts on the stubborn paper twisted around the stick, I reached over, shook the red circles off his cards, and switched two of his for mine. I thought no one noticed.

  “You know in England, just a few hundred years ago, they beheaded people who cheated at bridge,” Lil said, looking straight at me.

  “Bridge is too serious,” I said. “Bingo is boring. Now poker? That’s a real game of skill. Have to be an expert bluffer.”

  She fingered her pearls, leaned closer to me and whispered. “You and I have one thing in common. We don’t like to lose. Especially our independence. This place will squeeze every independent drop out of you if you let it. Don’t let that happen.”

  “I don’t intend to,” I said. “I have a plan.”

  She smiled.

  “B-22, B-22,” called the blue-check lady. “Don’t forget your free space. Check your free space, everyone.”

  With a toss of her pearls, Lil leaned forward and said, “Let’s make a deal. If you’ll learn bridge, I’ll give poker a try. Good thing my Harold isn’t living. And you’d have to swear you wouldn’t tell my son, Edward. Did I tell you he’s president of Macon First?”

  “Believe you did.”

  “Well, what do you say?”

  “I’ll think about it.” After all, what if she decided to tell someone about seeing me leave? I didn’t really think she would, but then again, I didn’t know her very well. Maybe learning how to play bridge wouldn’t be so bad.

  Did my luck change with the new bingo cards? Certainly not. Lollipop won the next game with one of my cards. When he ended up with face cream for his prize, I told him men didn’t use such. He promptly gave it to Alice.

  Everyone laughed, but I didn’t see anything funny. Besides, my stomach was acting up again. I felt like I’d swallowed a live crayfish, and it was holding on for dear life. When we were told to take a fifteen-minute break, I’d had enough and went to my room. Within minutes, someone tapped on my door.

  Betty Jo rushed over to my bed. “Mother, are you all right? You never lie down in the daytime unless you’re sick. And what’s this business about Pearl? What are you up to?”

  “You know me. I’m probably up to no good.” I laughed, but she didn’t join me. “No, a twitch in my stomach is all. Too much excitement. Can they manage without you for a spell? Pull that chair over here and sit down. We need to talk.”

  After studying her watch, she carried a needlepoint footstool over to my bedside and smoothed her denim skirt as she sat. I admired her choice of clothes and told her so. She looked like she was ready for a hoedown with her red flats, white shirt, and red kerchief tied at her neck.

  “You ought to ask Henry to take you out to Ray’s Road House tonight. Little dancing do you both good.”

  “That’s a rough place these days, Mother. Myrtle at the Kut ‘N Loose tells me the sheriff is always called out there for disorderly conduct.”

  “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.”

  Chapter Eleven

  As 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 an
d 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.