by Fannie Flagg
But, on the other hand, if he didn’t marry Norma, what would he miss out on then? What if Norma married someone else? In the coming months, Macky would change his mind about getting married a hundred more times.
That night up at Still Meadows was the last time Gene ever spoke to his grandfather. The next morning, Lordor was gone. It was quite a shock for everyone. Lordor had been there from the very beginning. The news spread throughout Still Meadows, and there were the usual questions. Where did he go? Would he come back? The same old questions their loved ones had asked about them when they died were now being asked up at Still Meadows…questions that nobody had the answer to.
1950
That July, the sun seemed to know exactly what day it was. Eager and excited to get an early start, it couldn’t wait a moment longer and quickly burned through the morning mist and flooded the town with bright clear light. “Get up, everyone, lots to do, fun to be had!”
Up on the hill, Lucille Beemer said, “Good morning, everybody.” Two hundred and three people just waking up answered, “Morning,” or something similar. Mr. Hendersen just grunted. It was his idea of a reply, and he only did that because, as hard as he tried, he couldn’t help but join the human race today.
Today was the Fourth of July, and there were to be big doings all day and fireworks tonight. As old as he was, he still had his childhood July Fourth memories of red, white, and blue, firecrackers, sparklers, whirligigs, watermelons, footraces, parades, and ice cream.
Later that morning, they could smell the hot dogs being grilled over on the outdoor VFW grill. Gene Nordstrom said, “I could eat about ten of those right now.”
It was almost eleven, and from the sound of it, the parade would be starting soon. They could hear the band already gathered in the parking lot, warming up their instruments. The quiet little toots and trills of the trumpets and trombones, the soft rattle of the drums.
Soon they heard the sirens and horns blowing, and they knew the Shriners had arrived in their clown cars. A few minutes later, a loud whistle from the band major, and they were off with a rousing rendition of “Stars and Stripes Forever.” All during the parade, they heard people talking on megaphones, shouting orders, and the crowd cheering as the flag went by, applauding the floats that followed. They heard the familiar sound of Dixie Cahill’s troupe of tap dancers, the Tappettes, doing their routine down the street.
Everybody enjoyed hearing the music, except Birdie Swensen, who had been the church organist and had perfect pitch. She whispered to her husband, “Dear God, how an entire band can play flat is beyond me. John Philip Sousa must be rolling over in his grave.”
But, thankfully, most people down in town were too excited to notice and were having a fine time as the Tappettes danced by. What a sight! Twenty-four girls in short bright blue sequined outfits and white boots with tassels were tapping and twirling batons down the street. It was enough to stop a young boy’s heart, and throw a flutter in some of the old men’s hearts as well.
Dixie Cahill was marching alongside her girls, keeping an eye out, making sure their line was straight. Glenn Warren, who owned the hardware store, was driving the tractor pulling the Washington Crossing the Delaware float, and his son, Macky, one of the volunteers, was not far behind him, carrying a shovel and a pail, cleaning up after the animals in the parade, which included two goats, four miniature ponies, and all the 4-H Club cows and pigs and sheep, each wearing a big red, white, and blue ribbon.
The Lions Club, the Rotary, the Optimists, and the Chamber of Commerce all had floats this year. The largest was the huge two-hundred-foot chamber float with Hazel Goodnight dressed as Betsy Ross, sitting in a chair, sewing the flag on one end, Uncle Sam in the middle, and Ida Jenkins as the Statue of Liberty on the other end. Two dressed-up dogs riding in decorated baby carriages followed.
—
AFTER THE PARADE WAS OVER, everyone went over to the big picnic ground out by the grammar school, and up at Still Meadows they could hear all the noise and fun going on, children laughing and chasing each other, and the crack of the bat at the Fourth of July baseball game. But the best was yet to come. Later, when it got dark, the sky lit up with huge bursts of bright pink, white, red, and green explosions of light that cascaded down to the ground in long streamers, then faded. Then more explosions: a golden one, a purple and gold one, a silver one, each burst bigger and louder than the one before.
Then came the grand finale. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Then one great big boom as the sky lit up with ten bursts shot off all at once. And when they all faded, one last giant fireworks display of the American flag. Wow!
When it was finally over, it was late, and everyone on the hill was tired and happy, including the people who had come out to the cemetery and put down blankets to watch the fireworks from up there.
It really was the very best place to see them. Macky Warren and Norma were one of the couples up on the hill that night. But Macky had more than fireworks on his mind, and he had been planning it for weeks. Right before the big finale, he pulled something out of his pocket, then turned to Norma. “Will you marry me?” he asked. He couldn’t hear her answer because of the noise of the fireworks, but he could see the look on her face, and it was a definite “Yes!”
1950 was a happy time in Elmwood Springs. Glenn Warren’s hardware store now carried Motorola and Sylvania television sets, and almost everyone in town had one. All the kids loved Howdy Doody and Buffalo Bob. Merle Wheeler was hooked on watching wrestling with Gorgeous George, and his wife, Verbena, was hooked on Liberace. And everybody loved watching Uncle Miltie. Tot Whooten said, “There’s nothing funnier than a man dressing up like a woman.”
Cereal was the breakfast of choice for most American kids. If you didn’t eat your Wheaties, you wouldn’t grow up and be a famous baseball or football star. Ice cream was the dessert they all screamed for. And both cereal and ice cream required milk, milk, and more milk. Which was good news for the local dairy business.
—
ANDER AND BEATRICE SWENSEN were still so overjoyed with their little girl, Hanna Marie, and they wanted to do something nice for the town. And so Ander brought in a professional landscape architect and had a lovely city park designed and built with a little lake in the middle, sidewalks, benches, a fountain, and streetlights. He named it Lordor Nordstrom Memorial Park, in memory of his friend and mentor.
The Elmwood Springs Ladies’ Bowling Team finished first in their league to become county champions. Over at the picture show, marquees boasted about its brand-new air-conditioning, and on hot, muggy summer days, kids and grown-ups alike spent hours sitting inside the ice-cold theater. It was so cold you could see your breath, and the candy girl in the lobby had to wear gloves and a scarf. One mother complained that her son had come home after a day at the movies, and his lips were still blue.
But that summer, lots of hot-buttered popcorn and hundreds of boxes of Sugar Babies, Raisinets, Goobers, Good & Plenty candy, and Junior Mints were sold, due to the sudden increase in attendance.
—
ALTHOUGH HER PARENTS WORRIED about her, little Hanna Marie didn’t seem to realize yet that she was different and unable to talk. But she was friendly with everyone. She would walk around town with her mother and visit people up and down the street. She was like the town pet, and everybody loved Hanna Marie. All they had to do was hold out their arms and she would run up and give them a big hug. All the merchants in town would give her a candy bar or, in Gerta Nordstrom’s case, pastries. They loved to see her smile. But this soon became a problem, and Beatrice had to ask them to please not give her any more sweet things to eat. She said to Gerta, “As it is, with all the ice cream Ander brings her, she won’t have a tooth left by the time she’s twelve.”
1951
There were now four churches in town, and on Sunday mornings, it was so wonderful up at Still Meadows to hear all the different bells ringing all at once. But other than the church bells and the occasional lawn mower, it was mostly qu
iet and peaceful up on the hill.
However, down in town, on the afternoon of August 12, that was not the case over at Tot Whooten’s house on First Avenue North.
—
IN EVERY TOWN, THERE SEEMS to be the one who always gets the hard luck. And in Elmwood Springs, that person was poor Tot Whooten. Because of money problems at home, she had started working at sixteen, fixing hair on her back porch. Her father had been a drunk, and she had, like so many, turned around and married an alcoholic just like her father. Her husband, James Dwayne Whooten, was a mess and could not hold a job to save his life.
It wasn’t as if Tot had a natural talent for being a hairdresser. It was just the only way she knew to make a living. And she now had two small children, Dwayne Jr. and Darlene, to support, plus a husband and a mother who was not quite right. Most of the women in town let her fix their hair out of pity for her. Of course, everybody went home afterward and redid it, but they felt it was their Christian duty to help poor Tot. Tot was a skinny redhead who smoked too much, but who could blame her? First she’d had her daddy to deal with, then James, and now her mother was as nutty as a fruitcake.
But she didn’t complain. Tot could be pushed and pushed…but when she did lose her temper, watch out. The last event even wound up in The Elmwood Springs News.
* * *
DOMESTIC DISPUTE
* * *
August 14
Deputies arrested a woman who scratched, punched, and threw empty glass whiskey bottles at her husband during an argument on First Avenue North. She also uprooted numerous garden plants and shrubbery, then threw a cement garden gnome at the man as he attempted to flee their home in his car. As he was pulling away, she grabbed onto the car and was dragged several feet and sustained abrasions from the fall. She was later booked at the county jail and charged with aggravated assault after being released from the hospital.
* * *
No names were used in the article, but everyone in town knew it was Tot. She had uprooted an awful lot of her bushes, and her yard was just a mess. Upon hearing her charge in court of aggravated assault, Tot had remarked to the judge, “You’re damn right I was aggravated. The son of a bitch was cheating on me!” She was let off with a warning.
* * *
THE WHOLE TOWN’S TALKING
* * *
by Mrs. Ida Jenkins
This week, the whole town’s talking about the recent wedding of Miss Norma Jenkins and Mr. Macky Warren. And in case you didn’t know, I was the happy mother of the bride! Goodness, I don’t know how other mothers can hold up under all the pressure of picking just the right outfit. Miss Howard in Ladies’ Better Wear at Morgan Brothers Department Store was a tremendous help to me. And after days, we finally settled on a lace-trimmed dress and jacket in eggshell pink with shoes, hat, and gloves to match. The bride was lovely in white satin. The couple is honeymooning and will return this time next week.
Other topics of conversation this week: Stratford-upon-Avon has nothing on us. Thanks to Ander and Beatrice Swensen, a charming pair of adult swans were purchased and are now happily gliding along in their new home in our own city park. Let’s hope they are a married couple. It would be so much fun to see baby swans. I am told they are gray in color, hence the moniker “Ugly Duckling.”
Just a reminder, a front lawn says so much about the people who live inside. What does your lawn say? Does your lawn reflect your personality? Hint: Neatly clipped bushes and freshly laundered curtains in the window are always a sign of an orderly home.
* * *
In April of 1952, when word got out that Lester Shingle was dead, there were at least four women in town who were not too unhappy about it. They never said so out loud, but they thought it. Three of them went to his funeral, but Tot Whooten was not the kind of person who could pretend to be sad when she wasn’t. The service was on a Sunday, and her beauty shop was closed, so she went bowling instead. She had a big ladies’ tournament coming up, and she liked to get in as much practice as she could.
Last year had been another glorious year for the Elmwood Springs Ladies’ Bowling Team. They had taken first place in the state championship.
Both the Goodnight twins and their younger sister, Irene, better known as “Good Night Irene” for her ability to roll so many strikes, were all excellent bowlers. But when it came right down to the wire, they had won mostly because of Tot Whooten, who had been nicknamed by the other teams “Terrible Tot, the Left-Handed Bowler from Hell” for her uncanny talent with a bowling ball. Even though she was a skinny, wiry woman, Tot used a thirteen-pounder and never saw a spare she couldn’t hit. Her aim was lethal and legendary in bowling circles. Tot could pick up a spare with a spin that would knock a pin sideways to hell and back. “I got my spin from rolling up hair in pin curls for so many years,” she said.
When Lester Shingle woke up at Still Meadows and realized where he was, the very first thing he said to Lucille Beemer was, “Guess what happened to me?”
“I have no idea,” she said.
“Well, guess. Guess why I’m here.”
“Well, let’s see. Were you ill? A bad flu of some sort?”
“No. I was murdered in cold blood.”
Lucille was stunned to hear it, and for the first time in her official position as greeter, was almost rendered speechless. She simply couldn’t imagine such a thing happening in Elmwood Springs. All she could do was reply, “Oh, dear…I’m so sorry. That must have been very upsetting.” She knew it was a completely inadequate response, but under the circumstance, what else could someone say?
And, of course, she remembered Lester. He’d always had that bad skin. And now this. She was also aware that he had never been very well liked…but even so, this was just shocking news.
She hoped he wouldn’t bring it up again. It was just too upsetting to even think about, much less talk about. But, of course, when the very next person came in, a Mrs. Carrie Uptick, by way of a failed liver, Lester immediately grilled her for answers. “Have they arrested the murderess, yet?”
“Excuse me?” said Mrs. Uptick.
“The woman who murdered me.”
“Oh, gosh…I haven’t heard anything about anybody being arrested for murder.”
“Damn,” thought Lester. Whoever she was, she was still on the loose and could possibly kill again. Law enforcement was certainly not up to snuff in Elmwood Springs. Meanwhile, the woman could flee the state.
There were four women he suspected, but he didn’t know which one had done it. For all he knew, they could have been in on it together. They had all threatened his life at one time or another. And all four had been at the Blue Star Bowling Alley that night. He’d seen them.
He had forgotten Wednesday was ladies’ night, and when he walked in and saw them, he’d turned around and left as fast as he could, but he figured one of them must have seen him, because the last thing he remembered was one minute being hit in the back of the head with a heavy round object, and the next, waking up at Still Meadows. There was no doubt about it. One of those women had hit him in the head with a bowling ball and killed him deader than a doornail.
Norma and Macky had been married less than a year when he was drafted and sent to Korea. A week later, Norma was out at her aunt Elner’s farm, sitting on her porch. “I hate changes. I wish everything would stay the same.”
“Well, honey, lots of things do,” Elner replied. “No matter what little old man does, the sun will come up in the morning, and the moon and the stars will always be there. No matter how many of us humans come and go, nature stays the same. Isn’t that some comfort to know you can count on spring every year?”
“I guess.”
“You need to get yourself a kitten to keep you company. That will get your mind off your troubles.”
“Aunt Elner, if Macky gets killed like Gene did, I swear I won’t be able to stand it. I’ll…well, I don’t know what I will do.”
“Now you just stop with all that worrying. Little Ma
cky is not going to get killed, and besides, you’ve got a baby on the way. Don’t be thinking sad thoughts. You need to think happy thoughts, so the baby won’t be nervous. I told your mother, I said, ‘Ida…I think your being so nervous is what makes poor Norma nervous.’ ”
“Well, I know I’m nervous now.”
“Oh, honey, you were always nervous. You were a nervous baby. So you’d better watch what you think. You don’t want a nervous baby, do you?”
“No.”
“Besides, worries will give you wrinkles. Look at me. I’m an old woman, and I don’t have any wrinkles. Why? Because I don’t worry.”
—
DRIVING BACK INTO TOWN, Norma realized that her cousin Gene had been on her mind a lot lately. His parents had never really gotten over losing him. None of them had. She remembered the time he came to one of her dance recitals. She had been lead tulip and had messed up her steps. Of course, her mother had not been happy about it, but after the show, Gene had put his arms around her, told her she was “the prettiest one up there,” and slipped her a Hershey bar on the drive home. When she was six, she’d had such a crush on him and told him she wanted to marry him when she grew up. He had laughed and said, “Cousins can’t marry, but you just wait and see. Some boy is going to come along and steal you. And if he isn’t good to you, I’ll poke him in the nose.” She wished he could have lived to see her married. If the baby was a boy, they were going to name him Gene.