Bury the Hatchet in Dead Mule Swamp

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Bury the Hatchet in Dead Mule Swamp Page 21

by Joan H. Young


  Chapter 46

  I excused myself, wishing Mr. and Mrs. Whatever-They’d-Said a nice evening. I was beginning to feel pulled in too many directions.

  My throat was dry and I wasn’t willing to continue without something to drink, so I worked my way back to the food room to find a bottle of water. The Fannings were no longer seated in the hallway. I pulled a wet bottle from the tub of ice, grabbed a pile of napkins to keep it from dripping on my dress and headed for the auditorium, twisting off the cap and drinking as I went. Every few seconds someone touched my arm and said hello, or waved or smiled at me. I tried to return the greetings between gulps.

  A square dance was just beginning. It must have been the second or third one, I’d been gone quite a while, and one of The Blue Grass members was encouraging couples who hadn’t yet tried it onto the floor. The space was tight with so many people, but six squares had formed, and it appeared that some new dancers were coming away from the walls. Chad and his friends had decided to try it and were laughing and poking each other as they took their places. Star Leonard was waiting in one of the squares with a tall lanky boy I didn’t know. She lifted her slim legs alternately, as if stretching out for a run. Jerry saw me enter and headed my way. Over his shoulder, I spied Harold standing alone. Mavis wasn’t with him.

  From the stage I heard the caller explaining what the phrases of the dance calls meant and directing the couples to walk through the steps.

  Jerry said, “The next number after this is another waltz. Do you think I should ask Cora to join me?” He sounded tentative.

  I was stunned at his apparent sudden lack of confidence. “Sure, why not?” I countered.

  “What if she says ‘no?’ Then what could I do next?”

  He had a point. “Let me go talk to her,” I offered.

  “Would you do that?” he asked. He sounded like a small boy hoping his sister would rescue him from some junior high social crisis.

  “Heading that way,” I assured him, patting his hand.

  Cora was still with Tom, although now she was sitting on a bench beside him. I worked my way around the edge of the room. The harmonica and fiddle took off with a blast and the caller cried “All join hands and circle down south...”

  “Hi, Cora, Tom,” I said, trying to be heard over the music. “I haven’t had a chance to say hello yet. I hope you aren’t offended.”

  Tom shook his head and yelled, “I can’t hear voices at all in places like this. I’m just enjoyin’ the music.”

  Cora smiled weakly. “Oh, no. You’re so busy.” Then she must have realized this sounded like a continuation of her complaints during our last phone call. “Really. I understand. This is quite the party. You’ve done something wonderful for the community. Your corsage is quite lovely,” she added.

  “Well, thanks. Working on the Ball has been rewarding,” I admitted, touching the orchids lightly and feeling the glow of Jerry’s touch.

  “Allemande left in your own backyard...” came the caller’s voice.

  “Have you done any dancing yet?” I asked her.

  “Dancing? Me? With whom?”

  “I can see you and Tom in a square dance,” I suggested.

  She shook her head. “Only if he learns the calls by heart. He can’t hear the words.”

  “Chicken in a bread pan pickin’ out dough...” was clearly audible to me above a jangle of banjo chords. Funny words. No wonder everyone seemed to be laughing.

  “Oh, sorry. That makes sense.” I paused. “Look, Cora. I have a request from someone who would like the next waltz with you, if you’re willing. I hope you’ll say yes. Even if it’s only as a favor to me.”

  “Oh? Who’s that?” Cora looked up at me pertly.

  “Meet your honey and pat her on the head, if she don’t like biscuits then feed her corn bread,” twanged from the stage.

  “Jerry.”

  Cora sat quietly, looking at me. I could tell she was trying to figure this out.

  “Why?”

  Why? Why, indeed?

  “He’s dating you. He should dance with you again,” she said with finality.

  “It’s true; we’ve spent a lot of time together getting ready for this event, but you’re one of the key players too. You’ve brought the judge’s furniture, and provided the information for the skit. It should be coming up soon.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I’m just waiting for it,” she interrupted, clipping the words.

  “Let him honor you for your contribution,” I pleaded.

  She shifted on the bench and smoothed the jumper skirt modestly across her knees. She had really gone all out, even wearing stockings and low heels. I’d never seen her in a dress before.

  “All right. When you put it that way, I suppose it would look awkward if I turned him down.”

  The dancers must have really caught on to the calls because everyone along the walls was now clapping and stomping their feet in rhythm with the music. With amplification, the sound was overwhelming, and I was having trouble concentrating. As I headed back toward Jerry, I glanced up at the balcony and waved to Mick who was fooling with the sliders on his control board. Mavis Fanning stood beside him. What was she doing up there?

  The crowd broke into continuous clapping as I reached Jerry, and the square dance broke up. Adele stepped to the stage, and the bass player removed a microphone from a stand and handed it to her.

  “There are just five more minutes to purchase raffle tickets,” she announced. “The first drawing will be held immediately following the next song. Come on folks; let’s support the Forest County Animal Shelter. Avery Edwards, you haven’t bought a single ticket yet.” She pointed at a heavyset man with a long beard. “I know you have enough money. Cough some up! The first prize awarded is going to be a haircut, facial and manicure at the Curly-Q, to be performed by Queenie herself. The royal treatment. You know Carolyn would like that.”

  Avery partially rose from his seat on a hay bale, dug in a pocket and waved a bill in the air, shaking his head and revealing a set of ill-fitting false teeth as he smiled. Geraldine made a beeline for him, money box and tickets in hand. I saw other people opening purses and pulling out wallets.

  “You’re all set,” I whispered to Jerry. “Go ask her.”

  He flashed me a look full of gratitude and began working his way toward Cora. I watched him bend down to talk to her, and I saw her head nod an affirmative. They stood side by side. She barely came to his armpit, but somehow they looked right together.

  “All right, folks, let’s mellow things out a bit with the ‘Tennessee Waltz.’ But I hope no one here is having their sweetheart stolen tonight. One, two, three, one, two...” and the couples were swirling onto the floor.

  Cora was quite a good dancer. She and Jerry had obviously waltzed together before as they seemed to sense each other’s motions. She wasn’t simply following his lead with standard steps. I saw him bend down and whisper in her ear, and snug his long fingers a little tighter around her tiny waist. I certainly hoped it would soon look as if someone’s sweetheart had been stolen. I ventured a tentative smile at the possibility the ruse might actually work.

  Chapter 47

  The floor was filled with happy couples, but those who watched from the sidelines seemed just as pleased. I sensed someone near me and turned to find Harold Fanning at my side.

  “May I have the pleasure of this dance?” he asked.

  I didn’t see that I had many options, and what could it hurt? “Of course,” I answered.

  Harold faced me and placed his right hand on my waist while grasping my right hand with his left. Now face-to-face with him I realized he’d been drinking enough to smell boozy.

  “You are a beautiful woman, Ana Raven,” he said. I noticed that his words were tending to run together.

  “Thank you,” I answered, trying to sound as generic as possible. We danced in silence for a few moments.

  “You are a goddam beautiful woman,” he repeated.


  “So is your wife. Where is she, by the way?” I craned my neck, trying to look around while staying in step. I was hoping to get out of the mainstream of the secondhand whiskey fumes, too.

  “Who knows? She’s probably off scouting around the building.”

  Suddenly this became interesting. “And why is she so interested in this building, Harold?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light, as if I were playing along with a joke.

  Harold stepped on my foot, but I pretended not to notice. “Her crazy obsession with yoga, of course,” he said.

  “What does she want to do with it?” I pressed. Harold had told Jerry she wanted to open a gym, but maybe I could find out even more.

  “She’s determined to open a fitness center. I’ve tried to talk her into other locations, but she’s set her heart on this place.” His words were definitely slurring, and the twirling of the waltz wasn’t improving his balance.

  “How badly does she want it?” I asked, wondering if Harold knew anything about anonymous calls from wayward phones, or bloody hatchets.

  “Hell, how should I know? She thought it was safe in the city’s hands but then the council listed it with that new realtor person. She’s very strange.” He added.

  I thought he meant his wife was strange. Then I caught on. I was suddenly feeling glad that my formal attire made me stand out from the denim and flannel that was the evening’s dress norm. “You mean Virginia Holiday?” I asked.

  “Yes her, strange, but I’m talking about Mavis.” He plunged on. “So she tried to buy it, but that Holiday woman had added on her fees and the price went way up.”

  “So Mavis couldn’t afford it?”

  “She couldn’t afford it anyway. I’m not made of money, even though she wants everyone to think we’re rich. And it would have been a conflict of interest, with me on the council. You’d think that fancy lawyer of hers would have explained that to her.”

  “You could resign,” I suggested.

  “And let her wear the pants? I don’t think so.” He burped, fogging me with a mixture of chips, salsa and liquor.

  I averted my face, trying not to grimace. I wanted to draw more information from the tipsy man. “But then the building was turned back over to the city, right?”

  “Yes, and that was another odd thing. The listing time hadn’t run out, but Carolina Holiday...”

  “Virginia,” I corrected.

  “Her. ...said we’d misled her about the condition of the place, and dumped it back in our laps.”

  “And then?”

  “The very next day, Jerry Caulfield contacted us and said he’d buy it at the price we’d been asking for years. Odd timing, if you ask me.” He sniffed.

  From the corner of my eye I saw a tall woman in a slinky deep purple dress approaching us. Mavis Fanning tapped me on the shoulder and said peremptorily, “I’ll take over from here.”

  I nodded to her and stepped away from Harold. She grasped his hand and shoulder as if she were equipped with vice-grips tipped with purple nail polish instead of fingers, and steered him quickly away from me.

  As the dance came to an end, I found myself near the stage side of the room and looked up into the balcony once more. This time, Deputy Harvey Brown stood beside Mick, surveying the room. I’d forgotten all about the promise from Tracy that the police would be around to help. Harvey was from the Sheriff’s Department, but I was glad there was an official presence on site. Perhaps Tracy or Kyle was outside.

  A rush of self-recrimination washed over me. I hadn’t gotten Mick a key to the gate. He’d had to leave it unlocked. Anyone could wander upstairs if they discovered the lapse in security. Already there had been two unexpected people in the balcony. Two too many.

  Adele came to the platform once again and read off the numbers for the winner of the Curly-Q beauty package, and another one for a thirty dollar gift certificate at Sorenson’s, to be used in the garden shop. Each time, people fumbled to produce and read their tickets till someone cried out, “That’s mine.” Much applause and congratulating followed.

  Jerry was waiting at the bottom of the stage steps, and he ascended and took the microphone from Adele. The musicians began moving some of their equipment slightly farther to the side of the stage.

  “We want to extend a warm thank you to The Blue Grass, for providing our music this evening.” He turned to his left and began clapping with his arms extended. The room erupted in clapping, yelling and whistling. “They’ll be back in a little while to round out the evening. I’ve been told that Myra Treleaven will play and sing ‘Bluegrass Saturday Night’ for a finale. You don’t want to miss that.”

  One female member of the band lifted her banjo above her head and smiled. Another round of cheers arose from the crowd.

  “We’re almost ready for the reenactment of an important piece of Cherry Hill History, but first, we have so many door prizes, I’ll turn the mic back over to our own Adele Volger, of Volger’s Grocery, who will announce more winners.” As he handed her the microphone, he whispered in her ear, and then left the stage. He came straight toward me.

  Adele took whatever he’d said in stride, and began explaining the next prize, which was a dinner for two, wine included, at Chez Léon in Emily City. I nodded, recalling my dinner there with Jerry. It was where this whole plot had been hatched.

  She was reading off the number of the winner when Jerry reached my side. “Should I ask her now or after the play,” he hissed.

  “What?” I was confused.

  “Cora. Is it better to tell her about the building before or after the skit?”

  “You haven’t got it all planned out?” I asked.

  “I did have. I was going to do it the very last thing. But I don’t think she’s going to stay. She said as much to Tom after the last dance. Told him to get the truck right after the kids finish.” Jerry was getting uncharacteristically nervous and fidgety again.

  “Then you should do it now,” I said.

  “That’s so anticlimactic.” He was almost whining.

  “Well, make up your mind.” I didn’t like it when a leader suddenly began to waffle. “You haven’t got all night,” I added, probably unkindly.

  “Adele will give out prizes until I come back. There are plenty of them. I have to think,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

  I saw Chad peek around the corner of the proscenium. I was relieved to see they were apparently in place in the wings and ready.

  Jerry began to pace back and forth in front of me, even though the space was severely limited. The people who’d been in the hallway were pressing into the auditorium so they’d be sure to hear the numbers read out for door prizes, and to find good spots from which to watch the skit. Many people simply sat on the floor in the center of the room.

  Someone must have delivered a message to Cheyanne that the play was about to begin because she and a large group of children entered from the side door and she urged them toward the front of the crowd, near the stage. Her hand motions made it obvious that she was directing them to sit down and be quiet. To her credit, she must have worn the kids out with her games, because they settled right in and looked expectantly toward the front.

  Jerry stopped pacing and looked at me. “OK, now it is. Thirty minutes aren’t going to make any difference in her answer.”

  I nodded in relief and took his hand. “I wish you the best, and I hope we’ve done as good a job of preparing her as you predicted.”

  He smiled at me and leaned downward, but I shook my head and gave him a little push.

  Chapter 48

  As Jerry headed back toward the stage, Adele finished giving away a pair of snowshoes from the Jalmari Canoe Livery-cum-sports store. Apparently Shane and Alex weren’t wasting any time getting into pursuit of year-round customers. She thanked the child who had pulled the winning ticket from a paper bag and sent him back to his seat on the floor. She straightened and pulled down the hem of her sweater.

  “And now, everyone, let
’s say a real thank you to the man who has made this first annual, we hope, Harvest Ball a smashing success. We know so many people pitched in, but without his direction and initial commitment to restoring our school, it never would have happened. The owner and editor of the Cherry Hill Herald, our very own, very much alive, Jerry Caulfield.”

  There was thunderous applause, and more stamping and whistling. Jerry raised his hands and gestured for people to stop. “Thank you, thank you all,” he said magnanimously, the leader-in-charge again. “I am delighted that at apparently the right time, I was able to provide the impetus for a project that you’ve all taken to heart. There is one person I would like to acknowledge who has played a significant role in the preparations for our Ball, a relative newcomer to our county, Anastasia Raven.”

  He motioned me to the stage. I was momentarily frozen in place. I wasn’t supposed to be the one up there with him. I shook my head slightly.

  “Ana, come on up here so people can thank you,” he urged gently.

  I gave in and climbed the few steps to the stage. Jerry put his arm around my shoulders.

  “Ana, along with Adele, here...” he paused and put his other arm around Adele’s ample waist. But he had to let one of us go to bring the mic back to his mouth, and he released me. “...took on the responsibility of making my dream for this Ball become a reality. You can’t believe how many hours...”

  My gaze wandered again to the balcony while Jerry embarrassingly listed a number of the decorating and organizational tasks we’d accomplished. There were a couple of teenagers huddled in a shadowy upper corner, kissing. Someone needed to go lock that gate. Mick waved at me.

  ...and she’s feeling right at home here in our small town.”

  I smiled and waved when everyone began clapping, probably for Adele and me, although I wasn’t positive.

  Off to my right, Chad hissed loudly, “Psst, Ma! How much longer till we’re on?”

  I continued waving with my left hand and spread the five fingers of my right hand and wiggled them at Chad behind my hip. I was totally guessing.

 

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