Curing the Blues with a New Pair of Shoes

by Dixie Cash

  Debbie Sue finally chuckled. “Well, you see, when Buddy and I got a divorce—”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you and Buddy were still married.”

  “We are. We got married, got divorced, then got married again. It’s a long story.”

  “I don’t mean to pry into your personal life. Back to the gas pumps.”

  “Oh, that’s a shorter story. Anyway, when Buddy and I got divorced, this old building was a service station and it belonged to him. He didn’t want it, so he let me have it. I had just gotten a beauty license and intended to put this salon in the service-station building. I only had so much money, so I had to pick and choose where to spend it. Then the EPA and the great state of Texas got involved.

  “They made me clean up some leaky old gasoline storage tanks and after that, I was out of money. I couldn’t afford to have the pumps removed, so Edwina said, ‘Well, they’re shaped like women, so let’s just dress ’em up like they’re one of the girls.’ So that’s what we did.” Debbie Sue chuckled again.

  “That’s a great story,” Avery said, laughing. “In fact, that’s a story all its own without being a part of the Elvis story. Maybe I’ll write two articles.”

  Debbie Sue turned off the water. “All done,” she said. “Let’s go see how beautiful we can make you, Faith.”

  Avery watched in the mirror as Debbie Sue’s expertise with a blow dryer and hairbrush began to be return Avery’s long hair to the layered loose curls she usually wore. Meanwhile Edwina resumed her manicure. As they worked, both women seemed preoccupied by something. “So what’s going to happen at the celebration tonight?” Avery asked.

  “It’ll be a grand finale,” Debbie Sue said. “A sock-hop, like in the old days. And the Elvis impersonators will perform. At the end of their show, the winner of the contest will be announced.”

  “I was surprised to see so many Elvis impersonators,” Avery said. “How did they even hear of the contest? Salt Lick’s so small.”

  “Money, honey,” Edwina put in. “Remember that song?”

  Instantly Avery’s interest revived in the impersonators. No one had told her there was a contest that included money. “Uh, no, I don’t think I do.”

  “ Money Honey’ was released by Elvis in 1956. Before any of us were even born.”

  “Edwina’s our local Elvis expert,” Debbie Sue said.

  “I saw she had a costume,” Avery replied on a laugh. “You mean the impersonators will win money?”

  “A bunch of money,” Debbie Sue said. “A local oilman and rich guy, Harley Carruthers, he put up a ten-thousand-dollar prize.”

  Edwina dried Avery’s hand and moved to the other one. “And that’s a lot of money, honey, even to somebody who’s got a lot of money.”

  No wonder so many Elvis impersonators had shown up, Avery thought. “Wow,” she said.

  “Barbara Hogg gets her hair done in here,” Debbie Sue went on. “She’s told us all about it. She and Judd put together a planning committee for the contest. When they started, they had established a rule that everyone would get his chance at the prize, but word of the amount spread like wildfire. They got so many people entering the contest, pretty soon the committee had to put the kibosh on that rule. They had to start having auditions.”

  Avery wanted to jump for joy. At last, something meaty she could put into her story. She now realized she should already have interviewed Judd and Barbara Hogg. “This gets more interesting all the time. Definitely fodder for my story. Tell me more.”

  “Not much more to tell. The planning committee started out by picking twenty-five of the best ones. Took ’em weeks. Then they watched two-minute performances and narrowed them down to ten finalists. The ten will compete tonight.”

  Avery couldn’t help but wonder where the small man who had twisted her arm placed in the lineup. Surely he wouldn’t be a finalist.

  “They’re each going to sing two songs,” Edwina said. “Hell, it’ll take half the night.”

  “But Barbara says the entertainment is gonna be first rate,” Debbie Sue said. “Like nothing that’s ever been seen in Salt Lick. She guarantees new fans will be born.”

  “And hopefully, new customers for Hogg’s,” Edwina quipped. “I mean, that is the purpose of this whole rain dance, right, Debbie Sue? It’s like that old saying one of my ex-husbands used to spout all the time. If you can’t dazzle ’em with brilliance, baffle ’em with bullshit.” Edwina tilted her head back and guffawed.

  Debbie Sue gasped. “Ed, would you please just shut your mouth?”

  She redirected her attention to Avery’s reflection. “By the way, everybody’s supposed to come in fifties dress tonight. I don’t suppose you brought any clothes like that with you. You know, pink and black? Sweaters? Saddle oxfords?”

  “Well, no. But I do have a pink sweater with glass beads on it.”

  “That’ll do,” Edwina said. “Just throw on a pair of black slacks or a black skirt and you’re in business. Say, sugar, what color shall we put on your nails?”

  Avery laughed. “Why, pink, of course. But before you start, I need to check my phone. ”

  “Here it is,” Debbie Sue said leaning over and picking it up off the floor.

  “Thanks.” Avery flipped it open. “Damn,” the mumbled. “No calls. No voice mail, no missed calls, not even an Instant Message. I can’t believe it.” She lifted her face back to her reflection and saw that she looked like her old self again. Debbie Sue was indeed a miracle worker.

  Edwina watched Avery with interest. She didn’t have to be a genius to know the woman had been expecting an important call, most likely from Sam. Her instinct told her Avery and Sam had spent the night together and now he hadn’t called. A man failing to call was one thing, but a man not calling after a night of lovemaking and a promise to call with plans for the next evening was a whole other set of misery. “So, uh, how’d it go with you and Sam last night?”

  “Fine. The food was delicious.”

  “Oh, hell, I know the food’s delicious. I meant what happened between you two? Did you end up shacked up or what?”

  “Edwina!” Debbie Sue said.

  “Edwina what?” Edwina said indignantly. “I did everything I could to make it happen. Rigged the casino game, gave away a free meal and so on.” She glanced at Avery and detected a sheen of moisture in her pretty green eyes. “And you’re upset because he hasn’t called, aren’t you, hon?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Look, hon, don’t you be upset and don’t jump to conclusions. Yet. Things happen.”

  “I know. I’m not assuming anything. What time’s the birthday party tonight?”

  Edwina saw a faint quiver in Avery’s chin. “It starts at seven in the gym. Your hair looks gorgeous. You look gorgeous. When Sam Something sees you, he’ll turn into an animal. Now let’s get those nails painted.”

  Half an hour later, Edwina and Debbie Sue had done all they could for Avery. She did indeed look like a runway model with an angelic face surrounded by ten gallons of soft, shining blond ringlets cascading down her back like a waterfall. Edwina was proud. They made an arrangement to meet at the high-school gym.

  As soon as Avery left, Debbie Sue said, “Okay, Ed, while I was fixing Avery’s hair, I was thinking. I came up with a plan. Let me tell you before someone else comes in.”

  The hours in the beauty salon had relaxed Avery. She was sleep deprived and felt lethargic, but she was still able to drive. She was even capable of waiting until she pulled onto the main highway heading for Odessa before tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

  She berated herself for behaving like a schoolgirl stood up for prom date. She actually had been naive enough to think that she and this man she scarcely knew had a connection. She had fooled herself into thinking that once they returned to the Metroplex, they would continue seeing each other. They would spend evenings in each other’s arms and awake to coffee and croissants while they read each other’s stories.

&nbs
p; What a bunch of hooey. Avery slapped the steering wheel with the heel of her palm and yelled to the car’s interior, “What a hopeless, imbecilic moron you are.”

  Here she was on a potentially great story and she had let herself get sidetracked by sex? She was supposed to be a professional, forgodsake. Then and there her backbone stiffened and she made a decision. When she saw the fine Samuel Carter again, she would give him the same thing he had shown her—a cold shoulder.

  Her pride almost restored, she felt the pangs of hunger. Hard to believe after the he-man-sized breakfast she had eaten, but that had been hours ago. She stopped off at a Sonic drive-in and ordered food to take back to the hotel. After eating, she would leisurely dress for tonight’s finale in her pink beaded sweater and her black skirt.

  With Sonic being located only two blocks from the hotel, the food was still hot in the sacks when she gathered them from the passenger seat. She strode through the hotel lobby with the bearing of a conquering queen, passed the taped-off areas where the fire had been, passed the elevator with bright orange tape crisscrossing the doors and climbed the stairway to the second floor level and her room. A sticky note had fallen from the door to the floor and was now attached to the sole of her shoe. She peeled it off and glanced at the message:

  Avery,

  I’ve thought about you all day. You won’t believe what I did to my cell phone…

  Without finishing it, she crumbled it into a ball and dropped it into the trash can. “Sam Carter, you have lied to the wrong woman.”

  The King’s blue suede shoes sat on a tabletop covered with red velvet. A floor lamp had been moved close enough to spotlight them, like with the crown jewels of the United Kingdom.

  The thief studied them. It wouldn’t be easy for someone to sell this stolen property. A person couldn’t exactly put an ad in the paper or list the shoes on eBay. But there had to be ways and there had to be people who would jump at the chance to own this priceless item.

  Japan, maybe. It was reported that practically the entire Japanese population, over 127 million, revered Elvis. There was a lot of money in Japan and probably a lot of collectors who would like these shoes.

  Well, no matter. Idle speculation was a waste of time. The shoes wouldn’t be sold. They were safe now, safe where they belonged. No amount of money could move them from where they were, and certainly, no person.

  Reaching out with a white-gloved hand, the thief stroked the suede with a gentleness saved for a baby’s cheek or a puppy’s nose. There was more than awe and appreciation in the touch. There was love. Pure-dee adoration.

  chapter twenty-four

  Debbie Sue paced outside the Salt Lick High School gym’s double doors, checking her watch every two minutes. Edwina was supposed to have met her thirty minutes ago. They had a plan. They had to follow the plan and so far, Edwina was the only one not following. “Dammit, Ed,” she mumbled. “Where are you?”

  She checked her wristwatch again and when she looked up, Edwina was strolling toward her.

  She was dressed in skintight black cigarette capris, a white fuzzy Marilyn sweater and her souvenir from their trip last year to New York City—red Jimmy Choo shoes with stiletto heels. She had a red silk scarf tied around her neck. Debbie Sue knew the woman would fit right in with the evening’s dress requirement. She also knew Edwina wasn’t really in costume; she dressed like that every day. That was part of the beauty of Edwina.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Debbie Sue said.

  “Dressing myself.” Edwina adjusted her scarf and flicked something off the shoulder of her snow-white sweater. “Has Avery shown up?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Sam?”

  “He was one of the first ones through the door. Alone.”

  “How about Vic and Billy Don? Are they here yet?”

  “They got here about twenty minutes ago. Deputy Bridges is here too. We’re all waiting for you. Are you ready?”

  Edwina hitched up her britches like an old western movie character going against all odds in the face of evil. “Let’s do ’er, buckaroo.”

  Debbie Sue shook her head. She pulled the door open and entered with Edwina close behind. Catching Deputy Bridges’ eye, she immediately moved to his side. The deputy was half a head shorter than Debbie Sue and a whole head shorter than Edwina. “Ready, Harry?”

  “No one comes in, right?” The vertically challenged deputy’s gaze volleyed between the two women.

  “Let me say it again. It’s okay if they come in, Harry. In fact, we want as many to come inside as possible. But no one goes out. I mean no one. Got it?”

  “Got it.” He moved to the doorway, his feet planted wide apart, his ten-gallon hat shoved down even farther on his head.

  Debbie Sue bit her lower lip. He reminded her of a mushroom.

  Once they were well inside, Edwina looked back at the deputy. “Do you think Deputy Harry Britches is up to the task? Because if he’s not, Vic—”

  “Deputy Bridges will be fine,” Debbie Sue said sternly. “You can’t keep calling him that, Ed. He’s the law.” She softened her tone and said, “But when you see Vic later, please ask him to stay close by, just in case.”

  The Domestic Equalizers made their way through the crowd, greeting friends, commenting on costumes, laughing and talking like any other sock-hop attendees. Debbie Sue wished her heart were as light as she pretended, but it couldn’t be, until those blue suede shoes were back inside that plastic box.

  With Edwina still close behind, she walked to the raised platform that had been set up at the back of the gym and climbed the four steps to the stage. Judd Hogg had brought in a DJ from Midland, Joel “The Mike” Michaels. His sound equipment and mammoth speakers crowded part of the stage. Edwina veered to the right and approached him. Leaning over, she said something to him and the music halted abruptly.

  A microphone stood mid-stage. Debbie Sue took a place behind it and raised it closer to her own height. Tapping the mouthpiece with her finger, she said, “Excuse me. Excuse me, everyone. Is this on? Can y’all hear me?”

  Her voice reverberated through the cavernous gymnasium. Couples stopped dancing and turned toward the stage. Heads bobbed up and down in affirmative answer to her question and others called out a hearty, “Yeah.”

  Debbie Sue cleared her throat. “Hi, everyone. As some of you know, my name is Debbie Sue Overstreet. My partner and I have been asked by Sheriff Billy Don Roberts to assist him in locating something that’s lost.”

  A murmur spread through the audience, quizzical expressions showed on faces.

  “I don’t think it’s common knowledge, but some of you might have already heard that the blue suede shoes that were supposed to be on display at Hogg’s have disappeared. The shoes that have been there for the past few days are not Elvis’s shoes.”

  The murmurs in the crowd resumed, only this time accompanied by exclamations of surprise or shock. One woman broke into tears, but to Debbie Sue’s relief, she was comforted immediately by those standing near her.

  After the noise subsided, Debbie Sue continued. “Because these shoes would be almost impossible to sell without detection, we’re working on the theory that they were taken by a fan. A really dedicated fan.”

  The crowd hummed and buzzed again. A voice called out from the back, “What’s that got to do with us?”

  “You saying somebody here took ’em?” Another voice laced with indignation yelled. Talking increased and one person even shoved another.

  “I’m just getting to that,” Debbie Sue said, raising her palms and adding an authoritative tone to her voice with the hope of regaining control of the crowd. “Some of you have already talked to us and if you’re one of those, we don’t need to speak to you again. But those of you who haven’t, we’d like to ask that you present some ID and answer a few questions. We’ll do this as quickly as possible, but until we’re finished, everyone please remain in the gym.”

  Debbie Sue had noticed during her speech that
Avery had slipped in and was standing apart from the crowd, listening. At first glance Debbie Sue hadn’t recognized her. She was wearing a cute short black skirt and a striking pink sweater that enhanced her beauty.

  Debbie Sue was about to give further instructions to the crowd when a bull of a man in a royal-blue Elvis jumpsuit that was stretched beyond the boundaries of good taste broke from the crowd. “I ain’t going back,” he bellowed. “I ain’t going back!” He bolted for the door.

  Every head in the room turned and watched the huge hairy beast dash for the door guarded by Deputy Bridges. The vertically challenged deputy assumed the position of a linebacker, caught the fleeing man below the belt in a bear hug of a tackle and took him to the floor.

  Debbie Sue winced. The escapee rolled away with a quickness that belied his size and jumped to his feet. Any other person would have been knocked out cold, she thought.

  “I spent a dime in the joint! I ain’t going back!”

  He grabbed Avery around the waist with one arm, reached into his half-zipped suit and pulled out a pistol. Shoving the barrel against Avery’s right temple, his eyes darted around the gym. “Don’t try to stop me. I’ll blow ’er head off.” He sneered at the deputy blocking the door with his compact body. “Step outta my way, shorty. And don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m kidding.”

  Debbie Sue stood frozen behind the microphone, unsure what to do. From her vantage point, she could see that Billy Don had moved behind the makeshift curtain strung from the cables that held the basketball goal. His eyes were closed and his hands were clasped in front of him. Was he praying?”

  Shit.

  As usual, relying on the sheriff was not an option.

  “Hey, you,” she yelled over the mike, her voice booming. Half of the crowd turned to her, the other half kept its eyes glued to the gunman and his hostage.

  “You do not want to go out those doors,” Debbie Sue said loud and clear. “My husband is a Texas Ranger and he and his partner are out there waiting.”