“A public display of unseemly anger.” Ham waved his free hand dramatically, never taking the other one off the card in his breast pocket. “And so I think it’s time for me to take the high road—”
“That road’s blocked,” Amos put in dryly. “And so’s your limo.”
“The positive road, that is,” Ham went on, his eyes shifting wildly, “meaning I’m offering a message of unity and forgiveness and forward-thinking progress and traditional peacemaking and—” his voice rising, he clutched at thin air in a gesture so filled with Shakespearean drama that down in the crowd, Anna Rose and Beau turned to each other and whispered Macbeth, “—And so, my fellow Creekites, my good, fair, forgiving Creekites, I am here to announce that on this very site, next spring, Mossy Creek High School will rise from the ashes! You’re getting a new high school!”
The collective gasp that went up from five thousand people nearly sucked Ham off the stage. A new high school. We were going to have our own high school in Mossy Creek, again. People began cheering. Cheering and whooping and applauding and hugging one another. John Bigelow stared at his cousin with something hard I can’t describe in his eyes, then turned away. Sue Ora and Will raced up on the stage and threw their arms around John.
Mayor Ida laughed and stroked Ham’s shoulder in a way that said, I let you live. This time. She knew that some fights are won punch by punch, and on that day she’d scored a knock-out for Mossy Creek—and for her son, who bowed his head to her for the soft caress of a benediction.
In the meantime, Amos opened the gypsy’s coin box, retrieved his father’s dime, and pocketed it. Then he turned to Sandy, who beamed at him. “We did it, Chief.”
“No, you did it. Dispatcher Crane,” Amos said. “In honor of your work, you’re now promoted to Officer Crane.”
Her eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. She clutched her heart, began to cry, and then, like a little, curly-blonde boxer at the end of the first Rocky movie, she searched the crowd tearfully and began bellowing, “Jeeeesssss! Jeesss!”
As her husband galloped to the stage she whirled back to the chief and threw her arms around him. “I’m on it, Chief, I’m on it!” She buried her face in Amos’s shirt and boo-hooed loudly.
Amos awkwardly patted the top of her head. “Thankyagladtobehere.”
Hank, Rob, and I traded stunned looks. Then the weight from twenty years of uncertain guilt slid fully off our shoulders, and we grabbed each other in hugs.
Rob Walker held me in his arms that day, in front of his wife and his mother and his daughter and all of Mossy Creek, and though to him it was the gesture of a loving friend, to me it was a sweet, sad, but contented goodbye, as an old door closed between us, forever.
I held him tight, then let him go.
* * * *
A cool autumn evening settled gently on the empty field where our high school had stood—and would stand, again. A harvest moon rose handsome and bright orange over Mount Colchik. The lights of downtown Mossy Creek winked happily in the growing darkness. A scattering of litter and the vacant speakers’ platform were all that marked the scene of perhaps the greatest surprise and greatest victory in Mossy Creek history. And a victory of the heart, for me.
Sandy, Katie Bell, and I sat on the dewy grass in the shadow of the ram statue.
“What you and Rob and Hank tried to do today took real spunk, Rainey,” Sandy said. “I know you’ve been aggravated with me over the past months—my investigation and all—but I’m here to tell you I never really thought y’all were serious suspects. I’m glad I was right.”
I eyed her drolly, then leaned close to Katie Bell. “Write that down and tell everybody she apologized.”
Katie Bell laughed but gave us a shrewd look. “I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
“What?” we asked in unison.
“We know whose name was on that card. We know. Any doubts?” Sandy and I grimly shook our heads. Katie Bell smiled wickedly. “Did you notice Dwight Truman staring up at the governor with his mouth hanging open?”
We chortled.
“Like a trout who’s just been hooked.”
“Like somebody goosed him with a cattle prod.”
“Like his whole life just flashed before his eyes—with Ham in his place at the White House.”
“Dwight had to be standing there remembering how he lost the state senate seat to Ham twenty years ago and why he lost and how convenient it was for all hell to break loose at homecoming the year that he, Dwight, was in charge of the ram, only a few weeks before the election. It all adds up, doesn’t it?”
“One thing’s for sure,” Katie Bell said, nodding for emphasis. “Dwight’s not going to be Ham’s Creekite ‘yes man’ any more. Not that Dwight will level any accusations at Ham. Because Dwight wants our school rebuilt as much as anybody.”
“Maybe there’s some hope for Dwight, yet.”
“Maybe there’s some hope for us all,” Katie Bell amended. “This whole town, I mean. Getting our school back. Forgetting the past. Moving forward.”
“Nope. Ain’t going no where,” Sandy chimed.
“And don’t want to,” I added.
We all chuckled.
The moon rose higher, the breeze sweetened with the pleasure of memories that had been restored to their original shine, and when we squinted just right, a moonlit ghost of the old school shimmered in the field, like a new promise.
Good night, Mossy Creek.
The Mossy Creek Gazette
215 Main Street • Mossy Creek, Georgia
From the Desk of Katie Bell, Business Manager
Dear Vick:
So that’s the story of the reunion. The governor promised to rebuild Mossy Creek High School, then left town as fast as his unblocked limo could take him. Ida admitted she sent the Ten Cent Gypsy to town to scare the truth out of everyone with a guilty conscience. She says we’ll put the gypsy on display and charge tourists to try their luck. The money will go towards buying a new truck for the volunteer fire department. We’re not taking any chances with fires at the new school. We’ve decided the next ram who’s appointed mascot will have his wool sprayed with flame repellant.
To recap the big reunion surprises: The Fang and Claw Society was held up to public ridicule once and for all. Rainey, Rob and Hank tried to confess to the prank that caused the fire, but John Bigelow stepped in and said it wasn’t them, but him. Then Eula Mae Whit and Millicent Hart announced the real culprit was Richard Nixon. As a reporter, I’m sworn to tell the truth, but sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. Aren’t you glad I’m not making any of this up?
In other news: Everyone is happy that Beau Belmont and Ed Brady, Junior, have returned to Mossy Creek for good. Sue Ora and John are holding hands in public, and Ida and Del—well, who knows about those two? Del’s a military man who says he’s retired, but you know how that kind of man wanders, and Ida is a frisky babe with a young police chief who just naturally draws her attention . . . but I better stop right there if I don’t want to be plucking buckshot out of my reporter’s notepad. Let’s just say I’m going to keep a close watch on Ida and Amos.
From what my sources tell me, we can expect at least two weddings in the near future—Josie and her Bigfoot, and Anna Rose and Beau. I understand the Mossy Creek Garden Club has decided that Peggy’s poison garden is the perfect setting for both weddings. Millicent Hart has booked the garden for Maggie and Tag’s nuptials, even though they’re not even engaged. Millicent likes to plan ahead. And so do I.
See, Sue Ora has promoted me to assistant editor of the Gazette. I’m thinking that I’ll give myself a little more column space now, so I can run more surveys and publish more titillating Creekite answers. I believe I’ll start next spring with an innocent-sounding survey to collect Creekites’ thoughts on something less threatening than reunions. Friendship sounds like a nice, tame subject, doesn’t it? Who is your best friend in Mossy Creek, and why? Yes. Such a pleasant subject. Such a . . . boring one.
&
nbsp; Okay, I’ve got a better idea: Who’s your best friend, and what’s the biggest secret you can never tell about the two of you?
Yes!
Watch out, Creekites, here I come.
That’ll do until I win the Pulitzer.
Love to you and yours until next time, Vick. Remember, keep your toes in Mossy Creek and just go with the flow.
Katie Bell
ROSE
ROSE
Not an Epilogue, But Rather an “Elephant-logue”
What do reunions mean to you?
Work, work, work, work, work. Any time humans got together in large numbers, I was taken away from my nice bed of hay and dressed up like a circus pony. I was gawked at, rode on, poked and prodded—all for their amusement.
When you look at the empty spot where Mossy Creek High School stood, what person comes to mind, and why?
How could just one person come to mind? There were thousands, weren’t there? And all of them were hunting for me in the woods around Mossy Creek like the villagers in a Frankenstein movie. That night was a blur of panic and mayhem and the scent of my singed hair. Yes, elephants have some hair. The fire changed my life forever. Before, I had plenty of peanuts and a nice warm trailer between gigs. Afterward, just the thought of crowds of people sent me into such a panic I couldn’t work for months. No one likes it when an elephant gets jittery.
What is the most hurtful and publicly humiliating thing that ever happened to you in high school?
Setting a high school on fire is the only thing that’s happened to me in a high school. I don’t know how it happened, exactly, but there was an awful lot of crashing and obnoxious smells in something called a chemistry lab. I could have been hurt, but did anyone think about that? No. No one ever worries about the elephant’s feelings.
What is the one thing that happened to you in high school that made you the person you are today?
First of all, let me say that I’m not a person . . . and I don’t want to be. As for what happened that made me the elephant I am today, see the answer to the second question, above.
Besides, I’m dead.
On that note, I have to also say I’m glad the mystery is resolved, so I can rest in peace up in Memphis. I heard the Creekites are going to put a plaque by the front doors of the new high school, in my honor.
No Elephants Beyond This Point.
Fine by me.
The Voices Of Reunion At Mossy Creek
(The Mossy Creek Storytelling Club)
Amos Royden and Win Allen
Debra Dixon
Ed Brady, Sr., Ed Brady, Jr. and Katie Bell
Sandra Chastain
Jasmine Beleau
Virginia Ellis
Josie McClure
Martha Shields
Maggie Hart and Anna Rose Lavender
Nancy Knight
Rainey Ann Cecil, Ida Walker, and Sandy Crane
Deborah Smith
Orville Simple
Sharon Sala
Eula Mae Whit
Carmen Green
Peggy Caldwell and Louise Sawyer
Carolyn McSparren
Tammy Jo Bigelow
Dee Sterling
REUNION DAY RECIPES
Courtesy Of The Bubba Rice Catering Company
Bubba Rice’s ‘Bubba Rice’
A Southern guy’s version of fried rice.
Ingredients:
1 1/3 cups white rice
2 eggs
6 slices of bacon
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
½ cup celery, chopped
½ cup green pepper, chopped
½ cup green onions, chopped
Soy sauce
1 tbsp butter
4 tbsp extra virgin oil
Prepare the rice according to the maker’s directions, should yield about 4 cups of rice. Fry the bacon, drain, and crumble. Brown the chicken breasts in 2 tbsp of olive oil and cut into small cubes (approx. ½ inch pcs.). Scramble the eggs in 1 tbsp of butter and chop.
Heat the remaining olive oil in a large griddle or electric skillet at about 425 degrees. On one side, add the celery, green pepper and green onions and sauté for about 3 minutes, then add the eggs, bacon, diced chicken. On the other side of the griddle, add the rice. Using a mixing method similar to tossing a salad, combine all the ingredients quickly to keep the rice from sticking. Add soy sauce to taste. In about 5 minutes, you’ve got Bubba Rice.
Serves 4 - 6
Bubba’s Chocolate Chip Cookies
Ingredients:
2 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
16 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup butter, softened
¾ cup sugar
¾ cup + 2 tbsp brown sugar
1 tsp real vanilla extract
2 eggs
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Sift the flour, salt, and baking soda together and set aside. In a large mixing bowl, add the butter, sugars, and vanilla extract, and beat until smooth. Add the eggs and beat again until smooth. Add in about ½ of the flour mix and beat, then add the rest of the flour and finish beating until completely blended and smooth. One of the secrets to this recipe is a very smooth mixture; unblended clumps of brown sugar or flour are a bad thing. Once this is done, remove about 2 tbsp into a small bowl and deliver along with a glass of cold milk to your “salmonella-be-damned, I want cookie dough” significant other. Then, using a large spoon, stir in the chocolate chips. Put teaspoon-sized lumps of dough onto an ungreased cookie sheet and bake until the tops start to turn golden brown, approx. 10 minutes. Makes about 4 dozen.”
Potato Salad For Folks Who Don’t Like Potato Salad
Ingredients:
Red potatoes
Eggs
Yellow mustard
Mayonnaise
Salt
Pepper
OK, here’s the deal . . . use 2 eggs for every pound of potatoes. For a large group, I usually use 5 pounds of potatoes and 10 eggs. Peel and dice the potatoes (try for ½ - 1 inch cubes, mix it up, uniformity is boring). Boil until fork tender and drain. Hard boil the eggs and remove the shells. In a large bowl, use a potato masher to crumble the eggs as finely as possible. Add mayonnaise and mustard in an even mix, one tbsp at a time, blending with the eggs. Usually, 2 tbsp each per one pound of potatoes will give the right consistency. Add salt and pepper to taste and blend. When the potatoes have completely drained, stir them into the mix until evenly coated.
Deviled Eggs
A very simple crowd pleaser. It’s another recipe that is definitely not an exact science. It’s one of those until it looks right “things.”
Ingredients:
Eggs
Mayonnaise
Olives (1 per egg), finely chopped
Salt
Pepper
Hard boil the eggs, allow to cool slightly, then remove the shells. Cut the eggs in half (length-wise . . . yes, some people do have to be told), remove the yolks and put them in a mixing bowl. Use a potato masher to mash the egg yolks as finely as possible, then start to add mayonnaise, one tbsp. at a time, and blend. You’re looking for paste-like consistency. About 1/2 tbsp. per egg seems to be a good starting point. Once you have the right consistency, add the chopped olives. Salt and pepper to taste. Fill the egg halves with the mixture and refrigerate.
Auntie’s Beef Stew
I got this recipe from my great aunt. Of course, she NEVER measured anything, “unless add until it looks right” counts as measuring. A warning, this thing takes time (minimum 3 hours cooking time, but 4 is better). Don’t cut corners by using any canned/frozen vegetables. The flavor just won’t be the same.
Ingredients:
2–2 ½ pound roast. Use either a chuck roast or a rump roast.
4 cups of diced potatoes (about ½ inch)
2 cups chopped celery
2 cups sliced carrots
1 large onion, diced (about 1 inch)
&
nbsp; 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
3 tbsp canola oil
1 ½ cup water
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pepper
Start by searing the roast. In a large stockpot over medium high heat, heat the canola oil and then sear the roast about 2 minutes per side. Add the garlic, cover and lower the heat to a simmer. Cook the roast for 2 hours, turning it once. After 2 hours, the roast should be tender enough to shred in the pot with a fork. Be sure to remove any large pieces of fat that remain.
Add the remaining ingredients, stirring thoroughly. Add salt & pepper. Raise the heat to bring to a low boil, then cover and lower the heat to simmer again. Simmer for 1 hour, stir at least once every 20 minutes. Check the “gravy” at about 45 minutes. If it appears too thin or watery (you’ll get a lot of moisture out of the celery and onions), here’s a trick that I learned from that “Bam!!!” guy on TV . . . remove about 2 cups of the stew (be sure to get a little of all the ingredients), put it in a blender or food processor, and puree it. Stir it back in to the stew.
Serves 4 6
Reunion at Mossy Creek Page 36
