by Fannie Flagg
Dorothy quickly wrote on the bottom, Wonderful! Meet me at the stage door when it is over. Dorothy, and gave it back to the lady to deliver.
Dorothy would be more than happy to see Minnie Oatman and hoped that Betty Raye would be with her. She had thought about Betty Raye so many times and wondered how she was. But after the show, it was Minnie alone who met her at the stage door.
The two women walked across the street to a little café and sat in a booth that Minnie had trouble squeezing into. After catching up on all the places the Oatmans had been, Dorothy asked what she had wanted to ask from the beginning. “And how is Betty Raye?”
A look of concern suddenly crossed Minnie’s face. She hesitated a moment and then confessed, “Not so good. . . . To be honest with you, Mrs. Smith, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. She don’t know I’m here but you and your family was so sweet to her and with you having your own daughter and all, I thought maybe you could give me some advice, because I don’t mind telling you I am just worried to tears over her.”
“Oh dear. Is there anything wrong with her?”
“Not as of yet but I am having a terrible time right now. Both the boys is on the verge of a rebellious streak, and Floyd is gone more woman crazy than ever, and Ferris ain’t in his right mind.”
Dorothy was alarmed. “What’s the matter with him?”
“Oh, every once in a while he gets saved again and goes off the deep end with the spirit but this last time was the worst he’s been. I tell you, Mrs. Smith, right now he’s about one step up from snake handling and I have to keep my eye on him every minute to keep him from falling back. You know all his people from Sand Mountain is like that. Three of them is dead from snakebites right now.” She heaved a sigh. “And I don’t have no one to blame but myself. My momma warned me about marrying a Sand Mountain man but nothing would do till I got Ferris Oatman, so I have made my bed and I’ve got to lump it. But I can’t look after him and the whole family too. And Betty Raye is now getting of an age to where all the boys is wanting to date her. I’m afraid when I’m not looking one of them little hip-wiggling hot-lipped gospel boys that’s always hanging around at them all-night sings is liable to go behind my back and run off with her.”
“I see. How does she feel about it?”
“As of yet she don’t pay them no never mind. She ain’t interested in anything but sitting in a corner and reading. She’s ruined her eyes so bad we had to get her glasses but she hates traveling from place to place so bad I’m afraid she’ll marry one of them just to get herself off the road.”
“Do you really think so?”
“If she’s anything like me at that age she will and we don’t have the money to hire another singer to take her place, so I’m just at the bottom of my rope with worry.”
“Yes, I can understand your concern.” Dorothy’s face showed her own concern.
Minnie then leaned over and confided to her: “Mrs. Smith, I know I’m not a very smart person. I’ve had little or none education. And don’t get me wrong, I love ’em to death, but Ferris and the boys and, God knows, Floyd is not the brightest of men. This life is all right for folks like us but Betty Raye’s different. She’s smarter than the rest of us. She thinks I don’t notice but I see her reading her books, wanting to learn things. I tried my best to keep her in school over at my sister’s but they was too many kids in that house and it made her nervous. But, Mrs. Smith, if I don’t do something soon she’s gonna wind up just like me and stay dumb all her life.”
An idea suddenly occurred to Dorothy about a possible replacement for Betty Raye, but she decided not to say anything specific yet. Dorothy sat back. “Minnie, I don’t know if this will work out or not but will you call me at home next week?”
Minnie said she would, and squeezed her way back out of the booth. They parted with Minnie promising to call as soon as they landed somewhere that had a phone.
The next day Dorothy was on her way back to Elmwood Springs, and the Oatman family left Iowa early in the morning, headed straight down to Nashville, Tennessee, known as the Belt Buckle of the Bible Belt, to appear on Wally Fowler’s all-night sing at the Ryman Auditorium. Minnie prayed all the way there that Ferris would not roam around backstage and preach at all the other gospel groups about going commercial and that Floyd would not start chasing after the Carter sisters again.
The last time they had sung with the Carter family Chester, the dummy, had made a suggestion to June she did not like and she’d ripped his wig off. It had cost them twenty-eight dollars to replace it.
All the way back home Dorothy was torn. She wanted to help Betty Raye but she would also hate to lose another girl she cared about. But she also knew that same someone longed to travel.
Oh well, she rationalized, it couldn’t do any harm to ask. The first day she was at home she and Beatrice were sitting in the kitchen when she broached the subject.
“Guess who I ran into up in Iowa?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you remember the Oatmans?”
Beatrice smiled and petted her Seeing Eye dog, Honey. “Oh yes.”
“And Betty Raye?”
She nodded “Yes . . . the girl who stayed here. How is she?”
Dorothy cleared her throat. “Not well, it seems. She’s not doing well at all.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.”
“Yes. Her mother tells me that she is not really that happy traveling. She would like to stop for a while and maybe go back to school.”
“Really?”
“Yes, her mother said she would like for Betty Raye to have a chance to at least finish high school.” Beatrice nodded but said nothing. “But,” Dorothy continued, “it doesn’t look like that is going to happen.” She paused.
“Why not?” asked Beatrice.
Dorothy had hoped she would ask. “Well, in order for her to stop singing they would have to find someone to replace her in the group.”
“Oh,” said Beatrice. She began to pet Honey’s head a little faster. “Really?”
Dorothy stirred two more teaspoons of sugar into her coffee to give Beatrice time to think. “Of course, it would mean a great deal of traveling for someone . . . always going from one place to another . . .”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. I didn’t say anything to Minnie . . . but you wouldn’t be interested in anything like that, would you?”
Beatrice immediately stood up. “Oh, Dorothy, do you think they would take me? Do you think they ever would? I know all the songs and I can learn the harmonies—”
“Well, Minnie is calling me in a few days and if you want I can certainly ask her. But now, I don’t think it would pay much.”
“I don’t care about that. And if they’re worried about me being blind, tell them about Honey. Tell them we get around fine. I can do almost anything. I would not be a burden. Tell them I’d sing for free.”
They were both on pins and needles until Minnie called, as promised. Dorothy told her that Beatrice would be available to go on the road in Betty Raye’s place if they wanted her. Minnie said she would talk it over with Ferris and call back.
An hour went by and finally the phone rang again. “Mrs. Smith, you tell that girl if she is willing to put up with us we would just love to have her. Hold on, I’m gonna put Betty Raye on the line.”
While she was waiting Dorothy called out to Beatrice, who was in the kitchen waiting to hear. “They want you, honey.” Then Betty Raye came on.
“Hello?”
“Betty Raye . . . has your mother told you everything?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is this all right with you? You know, we really want you to come.”
There was a long pause. “Mrs. Smith, you just don’t know how much I want to be there.”
This was almost the first complete sentence Dorothy had ever heard Betty Raye say in all the time she had known her.
As worried as Dorothy had been about doing the wrong thing, at that
moment she knew that she had done the right thing.
Minnie got back on. “Tell Beatrice we’ll be over to get her in a few weeks. I swear, just when you think there is no answer the Good Lord sends you an angel. God bless you for a saint, Mrs. Smith. You don’t know what a burden has been lifted from my heart.”
Dorothy hung up and went to the kitchen but Beatrice was gone. She was already next door in her room, starting to pack.
The Exchange
FERRIS OATMAN was not at all happy about losing Betty Raye and breaking up the family but for the first time in their marriage Minnie had put her rather large foot down.
“Ferris, my baby wants to get off the road and go to school and that’s what she’s gonna do.”
“Over my dead body,” he said.
“If that’s what it takes, then so be it but she’s going.”
Ferris saw the look in her eye and decided not to push it and two weeks later the Oatmans made a swing down into Missouri on their way to Arkansas to drop off Betty Raye and pick up Beatrice Woods and her dog. When they drove up Minnie rolled down the window and said, “Mrs. Smith, I don’t even have time to get out and hug your neck, we are already running late; we have to be at an all-night sing in Little Rock by eight, but I’ll be praying for you all the way there.” The back door opened and Betty Raye got out and Beatrice and Honey got in.
Uncle Floyd was in the front seat with Ferris and Minnie and as soon as they pulled out Chester, the Scripture-quoting dummy, turned around and looked at her and his eyebrows shot up and down and he said, “Whoo, whoo—well, hello there, good looking.”
Beatrice answered right away, “Well, hello there yourself!”
Mother Smith, Dorothy, Bobby, Anna Lee, and Nurse Ruby Robinson all stood and waved good-bye, moist-eyed. But Beatrice Woods never looked back. She would not have, even if she could have seen them. She was too busy concentrating on what was ahead. At last she was out on the road, headed for the wild blue yonder and beyond. Ya-hoo!
Betty Raye had not changed much from the last time they had seen her. She had grown a little taller and wore glasses now. Someone else had obviously picked them out for her. The frames were a bad combination of black plastic and metal rims and were not at all flattering on a teenager. As they walked into the house, Dorothy vowed to herself that the first thing she was going to do was get the poor girl a new pair of glasses.
Even though they would miss Beatrice, everybody was glad that Betty Raye was coming back to stay with them. Especially Anna Lee. She had been sad and moody all summer. Besides being worried about going away in the fall and leaving her family, she was feeling a little abandoned by her two best friends, and for the first time in her life she was lonely. Patsy Marie had started working full-time for her father down at the cleaners and Norma had gotten married. And no matter how much she and Norma vowed that nothing would ever change between them, it had. It was not like the old days, when she could call her night and day and had her to go places with anytime she wanted. Norma was now a married woman and things were different. It was nobody’s fault. Anna Lee still had all the boys in town buzzing around her as usual, but still she was lonesome for a girlfriend to do things with.
And there were other considerations.
On the first night, Anna Lee went into Betty Raye’s room and sat down on the bed and watched her unpack. She said, sincerely, “You just don’t know how grateful I am that you are here. I felt so guilty about going off so far away from Mother and leaving her all alone with just Bobby, I almost backed out of going. But now with you here I know she won’t be so lonesome and worry about me so much.”
Betty Raye was still shy around Anna Lee and mumbled, “Thank you.”
Anna Lee went on. “You know, if you think about it, it’s almost like you’re a younger sister staying behind, isn’t it.” She sighed. “I wish I had had a sister. Mother depends so much on me that it’s hard . . . and as long as we are going to be like sisters, I wish you’d think about staying in my room when I leave. It would mean a lot to me if you did.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, and I know it would make Mother very happy. She feels funny about you being in this little dinky room. Oh, not that it’s not nice or anything,” she added quickly, “it’s just that if you stay in my room it will be like you really are my sister.” Betty Raye unpacked still another homemade dress. “You know, Betty Raye, I’ll bet you and I are the same size. I’ve got a whole closetful of clothes. I’m not taking most of them, so they will be just hanging there, and you can wear anything you want. I was going to give them away. If you don’t mind hand-me-downs. They’re perfectly good.”
Betty Raye, who had worn hand-me-downs all her life, said, “No, I don’t mind.”
During the next few weeks Anna Lee spent a lot of time with Betty Raye and she made her try on all the clothes in her closet. One day Anna Lee just came right out and asked what she had wanted to ask all along. “Would you let me fool with your hair a little bit?”
By the time Anna Lee had finished “fooling with” Betty Raye’s hair, she had also put a little lipstick and rouge on her. “There, don’t you look better?”
Betty Raye looked in the mirror but could not see a thing without her glasses, and said yes anyway. The next thing Anna Lee did was to paint Betty Raye’s nails bright red. Betty Raye was still too shy to say anything. But who could refuse Anna Lee anything in her pink angora sweater and pink pearls? Betty Raye was putty in her hands.
Every day Anna Lee took her shopping downtown, an event that lasted for hours. Anna Lee was busy shopping at Morgan Brothers department store for her new college wardrobe and she tried on every hat, every pair of shoes, every suit or dress—some twice—before she would decide what she wanted.
Dorothy was happy that Anna Lee and Betty Raye were spending so much time together but after a while she began to be a little concerned for Betty Raye. She told Mother Smith, “She is dragging that poor girl around town like she was that Raggedy Ann doll she used to have.” And she was.
One afternoon Anna Lee said to Betty Raye, “I know you are real religious and all that but would it be a sin for you to go to the movies? Ginger Rogers is from Missouri and I’m just dying to see Kitty Foyle again. It wouldn’t hurt you to go just once, would it?”
Betty Raye thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve never been.”
When Dorothy found out, she said, “Now, Anna Lee, I don’t want you to be pushing Betty Raye into doing things she might not want to do.” Anna Lee, who was busy at the moment braiding Betty Raye’s thin brown hair into pigtails, said innocently, “I’m not, Mother. She wants to go, don’t you?”
Betty Raye, sitting at Anna Lee’s dressing table, said, “Yes, ma’am.” The next night Anna Lee took her to see Kitty Foyle and she loved it.
That Friday Dorothy drove the two girls over to Poplar Bluff to get Betty Raye some new glasses. When they got home Dorothy said to Mother Smith, “You should have come with us—you would have gotten the biggest kick out of Anna Lee. You would have thought she was Betty Raye’s mother, the way she was carrying on.”
Mother Smith said, “Did she get a new pair?”
“Finally,” said Dorothy, sitting down on the sofa. “They should be here next week. Anna Lee picked them out. Blue plastic with sort of wings on the end. It’s not the pair I would have picked but that’s the pair Anna Lee wanted and that’s what she got. Betty Raye is the sweetest girl; she just sat there and let Anna Lee stick every pair of glasses they had in the store on her and she never said a word.”
It was true, Anna Lee was enjoying her newfound project, pushing and pulling at poor Betty Raye, trying to make her into a version of herself. If she had had another few weeks she might have even taught Betty Raye to jitterbug. But the day finally came when she had to leave for nursing school. That night the whole family went down to the train station to see her off. On the way over, Dorothy talked too much and tried her best to be brave, but at the last minute, wh
en Anna Lee, looking so smart and grown up in her brown hound’s-tooth suit and hat to match, climbed on the train and turned around and waved, she could no longer control herself. She put her hand over her mouth to hide a sob and watched the train pull away and she broke down completely. Doc put his arm around her. “Come on, now,” he said, “it’s not for that long. She’ll be back at Christmas.”
“I know,” Dorothy said, “but she just looked so little on that great big train,” and she almost broke down again. She knew she was being silly but she couldn’t help it. It hurt just as much to see her daughter go off as it had on her first day of school twelve years before.
Bobby was also sad to see Anna Lee go but he didn’t know what to say, so he said, “That was a dumb hat she had on.” When they got home Dorothy went to bed, Bobby went to his room and listened to the radio, and Mother Smith helped Betty Raye quietly move her things into Anna Lee’s room as she had promised. Hanging up Betty Raye’s dresses in the closet, Mother Smith said, “Betty Raye, you just don’t know what a godsend you are to Dorothy right now. If you weren’t here, I’d hate to think what she would do. She lost one child and I know how it hurts her to lose another, even if it is just for a short time.”
Doc and Jimmy sat out on the porch and did not say much. But after a long silence Doc finally offered, “I just wish Dorothy wouldn’t act like it was the end of the world. She’ll be back at Christmas, for heaven’s sake.” He then looked at Jimmy and shook his head. “Women . . . the way they carry on, you’d think a few months was ten years.”
“Yeah, they get pretty upset over things, don’t they?”
Both men sat there in the dark and smoked, trying to pretend that they were above such silly emotions as missing Anna Lee. But they weren’t.
Anna Lee had been on the train about two hours when she found the envelope Doc had sneaked into her purse without telling Dorothy. Inside was a brand-new shiny nickel and a short note.
If for any reason you don’t like it up there, call me and I’ll come and get you.
Daddy