Julie Seedorf - Fuchsia Minnesota 02 - Granny Skewers a Scoundrel

by Julie Seedorf

  CHAPTER NINE

  Granny opened one eye slowly. It was enough to see that it was daylight out. Granny wiggled a little, closed her one open eye and snuggled back into her soft bed. Usually if Granny saw that the sun was up she would open the other eye very slowly, not wanting to get too excited to start the day. Getting up too fast always made Granny’s head spin and it was already spinning from all the excitement of the past few days.

  Normally, Granny would stick her big toe out of the blanket to determine the weather. Her big toe was a good barometer. If it started turning blue she knew it was cold and her toe was going to throb on and off throughout the day. If it was red, Granny knew it was a good day for her flip flops.

  However, on this day, as Granny settled back into her mattress deciding to delay checking her big toe until later, she was startled awake at loud barking, hissing and thunking.

  What in the world?

  Granny jumped out of bed, grabbed the bedpost to keep herself from spinning onto the floor, grabbed both her umbrella, which was sitting by the bed, and the knitting needle, forgetting to put anything on her feet and also forgetting she had on her purple leather pj’s as she dashed down the hall toward the noise.

  Granny’s pounding heart slowed down as she saw that the four shysters were trying to get the door open by jumping at the locks and the handle. The racket must have been them communicating to each other trying to figure out the problem, although Granny didn’t know if meows and hisses could understand barking and growling and visa versa. The shysters were back from their nightly excursion and were trying to get Baskerville back in the house.

  “I will fix this problem if I have to sledge hammer a bigger hole out of my door. I need my beauty sleep!” Granny exclaimed loudly to the shysters as she unlocked the locks and flung open the door. Her eyes opened wider at the sight of George and Mavis standing on the other side of the door along with Baskerville.

  George and Mavis’ eyes were wide in astonishment as they saw Granny’s attire. Granny, remembering what she was wearing, slammed the door shut before Baskerville could get in. Baskerville uttered a loud, anguished howl.

  “What do you want?”

  “We heard the commotion,” said George, “and since you always check on us we thought we had better return the favor and check on you to make sure you hadn’t danced the last dance.”

  “I’m still dancing, thank you.” Granny replied through the door.

  “We can see that,” Mavis answered with a smirky lilt in her voice. “Is the name of the dance, ‘I’m sexy and I know it?’”

  Granny ignored the teasing tone. “You can go now. I’ll make sure I save the last dance until much later in my life, say 100 years. I’ll let you know when my dance card is full.”

  “One more thing; we heard Sally’s funeral is tomorrow. Thought you’d want to know. Oh,” George continued, hollering as he and Mavis headed back down the sidewalk on the way to Mavis’ house. “You might want to let Baskerville in, he’s got a big steak in his mouth and it might need to be refrigerated.”

  Granny waited to open the door for Baskerville, watching out of her window to make sure Mavis and George were safely back at Mavis’ house.

  Granny opened the door and was trying to grab the steak out of Baskerville’s mouth, wondering who he had stolen it from. It was common knowledge that the shysters were good at thieving. Now Baskerville had picked up their bad habits or he had learned them from his former owner. The theme from Dragnet, the ‘50’s television hit started playing on her cell phone. Dragnet was the ring Granny had assigned to Franklin, since he was a former New York City detective; she thought the ring suited him.

  It took Granny a minute to decide if she should let Baskerville win the steak or if she should answer Franklin’s call. Curiosity won out.

  “What?”

  “Good Morning to you too, Hermiony, sweetheart.”

  “I’m not your sweetheart and it’s Granny. Remember that; Granny.”

  “Hermiony, sweetheart, is that any way to talk to your fiancé?”

  “What do you want, Franklin?”

  “I think we need to talk; I have some news.”

  “What news?”

  “I think we better talk in person. I’ll be right over.”

  “No. I need to go to work. The merchants of Fuchsia are depending on me. I’ll meet you at Ella’s Enchanted Forest in a half hour.” Granny slammed down the phone before Franklin could utter another word.”

  Granny hurried into her bedroom and dressed in her working Granny wardrobe. She tied her sparkly, high top tennis shoes, checked in the mirror to see that her hat was on crooked, fed Fish, the Little White Poodle, Furball and Tank, Baskerville already had the steak so she wasn’t going to worry about his food. What was she going to do about Baskerville? She couldn’t leave the door open. Granny picked up her umbrella tapping it on the ground as she thought.

  “Baskerville, come with me.”

  Granny led Baskerville down the stairs, opened the fireplace door and left it open. She proceeded into the hidden room and opened the door to the underground streets.

  “You’ll have to use this door until I get it figured out, Baskerville.” Baskerville gave a quiet howl before the two of them climbed back up the stairs to the front door.

  “All of you, be good and no more stealing. Baskerville, no more steaks!!”

  Granny started out the door with her umbrella in hand but turned back to pick up the knitting needle, sticking it in her large purse that was slung over her neck. Giving one more warning look to Fish, Little White Poodle, Furball, Tank and Baskerville, Granny closed the door and stood on the porch glancing over the neighborhood.

  With a little sniff as she looked at Sally’s house, Granny proceeded to the garage, hit the garage door opener ready to jump into one of her red ‘57 Chevy Corvettes parked in the garage.

  Granny shut the garage door, deciding to walk uptown. Granny looked at the trees and saw the leaves were starting to turn. Fall was here. The grass was still green but soon the grass and the weeds would be covered with the cloak of the fallen leaves. As Granny turned to start her walk, she decided to take a detour through her back yard.

  Granny sat down on the mound of grass that Sally had given her as a gift and Granny had used to bury the secrets she had tried to keep from the Big Guy. As Granny sat on the mound of grass and looked at the trees in her backyard, she could hear Sally saying to her, “The grass talks to you.” When Granny had scoffed at her, Sally had replied, “All living things talk if you listen.”

  Granny fingered the grass knowing that soon it would be dormant. She listened to the whisper of the wind in the trees and the whisper of the falling leaves. Granny stroked the grass with light fingers. “I wish your grass would talk to me now, Sally, and tell me why you aren’t here anymore. I wish it would talk to me and tell me who did this to you and why. You were the kindest soul on this earth. I never told you but I admired that about you.” Granny took one more soft stroke of the grass, lowered her head and put her ear to the ground, patted the mound softly one time before using her umbrella to lift herself up for her walk into town.

  Granny walked slowly, watching as the falling leaves made designs on the sidewalk in front of her. She was so busy studying the sidewalk and the leaves, making sure she didn’t step on the cracks as she walked that she didn’t see the big moving van blocking the sidewalk in front of Mrs. Shrill’s house until her hat came in contact with the van and fell off of her head.

  As Granny was rubbing the knot on her head from the bump, she stared up at the big truck. Lifting her umbrella she started pounding on the truck shouting, “Move it! Move it! Move it!”

  She stopped when she felt a tug on her skirt. Granny looked down into the wide blue eyes of a little blonde haired girl. The girl was holding Granny’s hat. “Who are you and why are you hitting the truck?”

  Granny stopped hitting the moving van. “Who are you and where did you come from?”

>   “My name is Angelique but you can call me Angel like my mommy does. I live here now.”

  Granny bent down even with the little girl and took her hat. “My name is Granny and you can call me Granny. I live a couple of blocks away.”

  “I can’t call you Granny. I already have a Granny. But she lives far away.”

  Granny sat down on the ground next to the little girl called Angel.

  “Well, then, you can call me Hermiony. But don’t call me that when anyone else is around. Agreed?”

  Angel shook her head up and down. “Agreed.”

  “How old are you, Angel?”

  “I’m four. How old are you?”

  Granny stood up quickly. “Don’t have time to talk about that now. I have to go. Nice meeting you, Angel.” Granny plopped her hat on top of her head, moved around the front of the moving truck and picked up her pace to get downtown before Franklin came looking for her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Franklin was waiting for Granny as she entered Ella’s. He had her latte and donuts waiting for her. Franklin stood and pulled out a chair for Granny.

  Granny stood for a moment, taking in the scene. Suspiciously she eyed Franklin. “Let’s make this quick, Franklin; I have to get to work.” Granny was going to continue the protest about his pulling out her chair for her when she noticed the somber look on his face.

  Granny plunked down in her chair uncharacteristically quiet. She took a sip of her latte as she waited for Franklin to say something.

  Franklin cleared his throat. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “You don’t want to be my fiancé?” That’s ok, Franklin. I was trying to throw my kids off track. If they thought you and I were an item, they might not make me live with them or send me to the wrinkle farm.” Granny patted his hands and stood up to leave, grabbing her donut to eat on her rounds.

  Franklin gently grabbed her arm and pulled her back down in her chair. “No, Granny, it’s about Esmeralda Periwinkle.”

  Granny squinted her eyes, glaring at Franklin, waiting for him to finish

  “She’s dead; they found her this morning in her chair, teacup in her lap.”

  Delight and her daughter Ella were standing behind the counter, waiting for Granny’s reaction. The news of Granny’s little episode at Mrs. Periwinkles had been whispered around town the evening before, and the news of Esmeralda Periwinkle’s death coming on top of Granny’s meltdown turned the little flame of news into a wildfire of speculation.

  Granny stood up so fast that her chair fell and slid across the floor almost knocking over Ditty Belle from Persnickity’s Bookstore as she came in the door for her morning coffee.

  Granny picked up her umbrella and pointed it at Franklin’s chest. “This is your fault, Franklin Jester Gatsby. I told you that she was going to die but you didn’t believe me. This is on you, do you understand?” Granny turned and stomped out of Ella’s, drawing everyone’s attention.

  Franklin sat back down and grabbed Granny’s unfinished donut. “More donuts, Delight, and keep them coming.”

  “Um…are you sure it’s donuts you want and not a stiff drink? I know Granny could drive you to drink, but drive you to donuts?” Delight asked perplexed at the order.

  “No, Ella, I meant donuts. Maybe if I eat like Granny and drink like Granny, I’ll understand Granny and she won’t drive me so crazy.”

  As Franklin scarfed down donuts Granny checked out Pickles Grocery Store to see if there were any beady eyed ruffians trying to get away with any goods. She happened to be walking around the corner of the cooler by the milk when she noticed a puddle of milk on the floor. There seemed to be a path of drips leading down the aisle to the baked goods. Sure enough, there was Tricky Travis Trawler reaching for an open box of brownies. It was strange since Travis usually limited his pilfering to the collection plate at church but there was no doubt it was Travis stuffing his pockets with brownies, and milk was dripping out of his pockets.

  Granny moved closer, hobbling slowly with her umbrella, her purse hanging from around her neck. With her free hand, Granny reached her hand into her purse and pulled out the knitting needle. She moved closer, brushing by Travis. As she was even with the pockets in his jacket, she took a couple of quick jabs at the pocket and quickly put the knitting needle back in her purse, but not before she was sure the boxes of milk and Travis had experienced the end of her knitting needle. As Travis jumped and howled at the point of the needle skewering the box and hitting his skin, Granny hit the remote alarm to alert the Big Guy. Granny then threw herself on the floor in the dripping milk puddle knocking Travis off his feet as he came down from hopping from the jabs.

  At this point, the Big Guy swooped in. “What’s the trouble?”

  “I slipped on the milk that seems to be dripping out of Travis’ pocket.”

  “You jabbed me. You skewered me.”

  “Young man, I did no such thing. I was passing by, minding my own business when I slipped on the milk that seemed to be pouring out of your pocket as you were hopping up and down for some odd reason.”

  “Search her. She skewered me with something. I have the marks to prove it.”

  “Granny, I have to check you out. Open your purse.” The Big Guy gave Granny a hand and helped her to her feet.

  The big guy slyly winked at Granny. Granny winked back.

  “If you must, but isn’t it strange that there is milk dripping out of one of his pockets and his other pocket seems to be muddy.” Granny then took her hand and hit Travis other pocket and squashed all the brownies he had stowed in it. Granny opened her purse.

  “Sorry, Travis, nothing sharp in there. You better empty your pockets. I’ll take care of this now, Granny.”

  “If you say so, Big Guy.” Granny winked and limped down the aisle and to the side of the store to visit the ladies’ room. Once inside, she lifted her skirt and pulled the knitting needle out of her stocking that was held up on her thigh by elastic the old fashioned way. This made a good hiding place in a pinch and as Granny had landed on the floor she quickly had lifted the side of her skirt closest to the shelves and slipped the knitting needle out of her purse into the leg of her hose before Travis had noticed.

  After Granny made sure that things were quiet, she walked down the way to LuLu’s Quilt Shop. As Granny walked in the door, the door chimes started playing “Silver Threads and Golden Needles” to alert Lulu that she had a customer. For some reason, LuLu adopted the song for her quilt shop claiming she liked silver thread and golden needles even though the song didn’t have anything to do with quilting. But that was the way it was in Fuchsia. People could have their unique likes and quirky habits. That is what set Fuchsia apart from other communities.

  “Hi, Granny, what can I do for you?”

  “Do you know how to knit?”

  “Granny, this is a quilt shop but I do knit for a hobby. Did you want to learn?”

  “No, I need to know where I can get a special knitting needle made.”

  “I do know of an online business that does that. You have to give them your specifications; they will make it and send it to you. Do you want me to look it up on the computer and see if we can order you something?”

  “I do but this is secrecy at its highest level, Lulu. Can I trust you?”

  “Are you going to get in trouble with this?”

  Granny crossed her fingers behind her back. “No.”

  “Will I get into trouble for doing this?”

  Again Granny crossed her fingers behind her back. “I promise no.”

  “Would your kids approve?”

  This time Granny didn’t have to cross her fingers. “No.”

  “Then let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Granny was in the middle of her usual dream with the Mayor presenting her with a key to the city of Fuchsia when the phone’s jarring ring woke her right as the key was in her grasp. As she started reaching for the phone, her doorbell started dinging and dinging
and dinging. Who on earth would have the nerve to bother her at this time of the morning?

  Granny held the phone to her ear as she reached under her bed for her white chenille robe to cover her Fuchsia nightie that was lined with purple and pink fur.

  “What?” Granny shouted into the phone.

  “Granny, this is Mayor Horatio Helicourt.”

  Granny held the phone out to look at the receiver. She pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t still asleep and dreaming.

  “Yes?”

  “Granny, we are having a ceremony on Thursday afternoon at Ella’s Enchanted Forest and we would like you to be there.”

  “Are you sure you have the right number and the right Granny?”

  “I am sure; the ceremony starts at 2:00 p.m. sharp.”

  “I haven’t done anything wrong. I am an old lady and you need to tell me what this is about.”

  “Just be there and ah…bring your critters along with you.”

  “My critters?”

  “You know––the dogs and cats that live with you that always seem to be in trouble.”

  Granny was about to ask another question when Horatio Helicourt hung up the phone. It took Granny a minute to realize the doorbell was still ringing in her ear. Muttering to herself about this new dilemma of being summoned by the Mayor, she shuffled down the hallway and threw open the door.

  “Granny, why didn’t you answer the door? Couldn’t you hear us? Maybe you need hearing aids. At your age, the hearing goes you know.” George and Mavis stood hand in hand on Granny’s porch.

  “I can hear just fine, thank you. I was just getting my binoculars ready to check on you and make sure you were ok. I’m the one who is supposed to check on you if you remember. Maybe your memories are a little foggy,” Granny shot back.

  She started shutting the door when George stuck his foot out and blocked Granny from closing the door. Granny gave him the eagle eye.