by Fannie Flagg
“Wowzer!” said a teenage boy who had passed away in 1923.
“Then a pretty girl brings you a bag of peanuts and a drink and before you know it, you’re back down on the ground again, hundreds of miles away from where you started.”
“How high do you go?”
“Oh…thousands of feet.”
“Good Lord. Boy, what will those fools come up with next?”
Today it was just Beatrice who came out to the farm to visit Elner. And she was upset. Hanna Marie was getting ready to go off to a special college for the deaf in Boston. Beatrice said, “I’m so worried about her, Elner. She’s never been away from home before. And Boston is so far away. I’m going to miss her so much.”
Elner said, “I know it’s hard, honey, and I know you’ll miss her. We all will. But look on the bright side, Beatrice. If she has to go, at least you and Ander have the money to send her to the very best school. What if she had been born to a poor family?”
“I know, and I’m grateful. It’s just that left to my own devices, I would just keep her home with me forever.”
“When does she leave?”
Beatrice sighed. “In a few weeks….And, oh, do I dread that day, but they say that she has to learn to become independent…and I know they are right. But I do worry. She’s just so trusting and innocent about the ways of the world.”
“Well, I think that’s a good way to be.”
“You think so?”
“I do,” said Elner.
Beatrice smiled. “Oh, I know she’ll probably do just fine, but it’s not only the school that worries me; it’s her future. What if she never marries? Ander and I are not young. What if something should happen to us? Who would take care of her?”
“Oh, Beatrice. Nothing is going to happen to you or Ander, my heavens.”
“I know,” she said. “But promise me, Elner, if anything does, you’ll look after her…make sure she’s all right?”
Elner patted Beatrice’s hand. “That’s not something you even need ask. You know I would. If anybody ever tried to harm that sweet angel, they wouldn’t do it while I was alive and kicking. And don’t forget, I’m a big, strong farm woman. Besides, there’s not a person in this town that doesn’t feel the same way.”
September 2, 1965
Dearest Aunt Elner,
Hello from Boston! I’m so sorry I haven’t written sooner, but it has been so hectic up here getting settled into the dorm, signing up for classes, etc. Hardly have a moment to myself. I thank you so much for the gift of fig preserves. It will make me think of you whenever I eat them. Aunt Elner, do keep an eye on Mother and Daddy for me, will you? They looked so sad when they left for home.
Please don’t tell them, but I miss them both so terribly. Sometimes at night I cry myself to sleep. But I am learning so many new things—math for one. Ugh! But they are things I will need to know to help Daddy with his charities. Bye for now.
Love as always,
Hanna Marie
November 28, 1965
Dear Aunt Elner,
I hope you are well. I am doing so much better. Of course, I still miss home, but I must say there is something really nice about being with people who are just like me. I have made many new friends from all over. One girl is all the way from South America. She signs in Spanish! How hilarious! We are both learning to ice skate at the same time and it is so much fun. When I come home for Christmas, I will show you the photos I took of the snow up here. I am attending church for the deaf every Sunday, and next week in drama class, we are doing the Shakespeare play Romeo and Juliet. And yours truly is playing Juliet. But please don’t tell Mother and Daddy. If I know them they will want to come and make me even more nervous than I will be.
Love,
Hanna Marie
P.S. Guess what? Next semester, I will be taking a class in ballroom dancing!
January 30, 1966
Dear Hanna Marie,
I got your last letter. And, honey, I don’t want you to worry any more about your mother and daddy. Believe me, they are just fine. I have talked them out of moving up to Boston and taking a place near you. So you just do your lessons, have fun, and leave old Beatrice and Ander to me. You know me. I have my wily ways. Norma sends her love, and so do I. You better be careful up there in all that snow that you don’t catch triple p-new-monnia…or however you spell it.
Aunt Elner
P.S. Is there such a thing as a Boston bean? Is it different than a regular old bean? If so, bring me one, will you?
February 18, 1966
Dearest Aunt Elner,
Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you! I love them both to pieces, but if they moved here, I know I would spend most of my time worrying whether they had things to do all day. When I get home this summer, I’m coming out to the farm and spending the night with you right away. I have soooo much to tell you. Love to Uncle Will and Norma, and Macky and Linda.
Love,
Me
Gene Nordstrom’s friend Cooter Calvert came into Still Meadows at a rather early age, due to prostate cancer.
He was happy to find that Gene was the same great guy, still full of enthusiasm, still interested in hearing all about what he had been up to. A lot had happened in the more than twenty years that Gene had been gone, and so the two of them had a lot of news to catch up on.
“After I got home, I married Thelma, and we have a daughter named Cathy. And, Gene, I started that newspaper, the one we always talked about.”
Gene was elated to hear it. “Good for you, Cooter. Good man. Did it do well?”
“Oh, yeah. And Momma is out at Happy Acres Nursing Home now…and you know Macky and Norma have a little girl named Linda.”
“Yeah, I knew that.”
“Let’s see…who else…Oh…and your aunt Elner is still going strong. Last I heard, she still had a bunch of cats.”
Gene laughed. “That figures. And Aunt Ida?”
“Oh, Lord, what can I say? Ida is Ida.” He laughed. “She writes a column for the newspaper now.”
“You’re kidding. What about?”
“Oh, you know. Just a lot of silly Garden Club stuff.”
They spent the rest of the time with just small talk. Gene wanted to know how the football team was doing. Things like that.
Mostly they joked around and talked about all the fun, crazy things they used to do.
Cooter said, “Do you remember all the movies we went to?”
“Oh, yes…we must have spent hours in that place.”
Cooter kept the conversation as light and as positive as he could. A lot of other things had happened in the world since Gene had been up at Still Meadows. He didn’t tell Gene that boys were now burning their draft cards and refusing to serve in the military. How could you tell that to someone who died fighting for his country?
—
MEANWHILE, LESTER SHINGLE WAS still on the alert for news. He kept waiting for someone to come up to Still Meadows and tell him that they had finally caught his killer, but so far, nobody had. Nobody was even talking about his murder. And in such a small town, you’d have thought it would have been a huge topic of conversation. As time went on, he began to wonder. Was she going to get away with it? Had there been no witnesses to the crime? The bowling alley parking lot was empty that night. Had they checked for blood on all the bowling balls? Had they checked for fingerprints? Of course, with so many people using the same ball, it might have been difficult. But still, she must have slipped up somehow, somewhere. It just didn’t seem right. A healthy young man cut down in his prime by a vengeful female, and nothing had been done.
1967
Hanna Marie Swensen had grown into a lovely young lady, slender with beautiful silky brown hair and big brown expressive eyes. She had a naturally sweet personality, had many friends, hearing and non-hearing alike, and was quite social. She had her mother’s sense of style and was always dressed in the best clothes. Even so, at the beginning of her senior year, w
hen she wrote to her parents and told them about a wonderful young man she had met, it had come as somewhat of a surprise. Beatrice knew she had made a lot of friends, but she had never before mentioned a special boy. And, of course, Beatrice was excited. But at this point, she didn’t know if the young man was a deaf boy or not…or anything else really.
My Darling,
So happy to hear you are doing so well and still enjoying college life. Your friend Michael sounds like a nice person. Not to be a prying mother, but is he a hearing person?
Not that it matters, just wondering. If you like, your father and I would be happy to have him come and visit sometime. Anyhow, sweetie, remember your mother and daddy love you and miss you so much.
Mother
Hanna Marie’s father would have worded the letter somewhat differently. He would have said, “Bring this clown home, and let me get a good look at him.” Luckily, Beatrice was the one who wrote the letters.
But men are different than women on the subject of their daughters. When Linda Warren had started dating boys, Macky hadn’t liked any of them. As he told Norma, “No matter how polite they may seem, I was a boy myself, and I know what the little bastards are up to.”
* * *
THE WHOLE TOWN’S TALKING
* * *
by Mrs. Ida Jenkins
This week, the whole town’s talking about what a wonderful job our new mayor Glenn Warren is doing. He had some mighty big shoes to fill. Also, congratulations to the Elmwood Springs High School Mothers’ Club. Their bake sale was a marvelous success. I shamelessly confess to buying two of Edna Childress’s apple pies and going off my diet, but then, who can blame me? My question is, “How does her husband, Ralph, manage to remain so thin?” Oh, well, it was all for a good cause. I know we will all be happy to have that much-needed tuba replaced. Bandleader Ernest Koonitz said the old one had had it!
By the way, a common problem this time of year is wondering what to take to the cemetery. On Mother’s Day, we all know that roses are always a lovely idea. Also, a flowering gardenia is always in style for a mother or grandmother, but here is a question I am often asked: “Ida, what is considered proper for Dad or Granddad on his special day?” I say one can never go wrong with a small potted plant, something that says “I love you,” that isn’t too feminine. There are many delightful choices. Next time you are stumped, consider a small potted geranium, begonia, or ivy. Also delightful is a multicolored or red or green pepper plant for your male loved ones. Aren’t we lucky nature provides us with so many choices?
By the way, has anyone noticed that the tulips the Garden Club planted by the fountain in the park are starting to bloom? Oh, my, take a stroll, and you will think you are in Holland.
Beauty is important, and its cost is so little.
Flowers are nature’s way of saying “Cheer up, it’s spring!”
* * *
Hanna Marie brought Michael James Vincent home to Elmwood Springs to meet her parents, and everyone was charmed by him. A few days later, Beatrice and Ander gave a big house party so Hanna Marie’s friends could meet him.
That evening, Ander and Beatrice were sitting in the parlor, watching the young people having a good time, when Beatrice turned to her husband. “Oh, Ander. I’m so happy. He seems like such a nice boy. Don’t you think?”
Ander glanced at the boy standing in the other room. “Maybe, but just the same, I think we need to have him checked out.”
Beatrice frowned. “What do you mean, ‘have him checked out’?”
“Just make a couple of phone calls. We don’t know that much about him or what kind of family he comes from.”
“Ander Swensen, don’t you dare do anything like that. I don’t care where he comes from. Hanna Marie loves that boy, and if she ever found out you did such a thing, she would never forgive you…and neither would I!”
Ander stared up at the ceiling. Beatrice knew that look. “And, Ander, if you think you can go behind my back and do it anyway, you know I’ll find out sooner or later.”
Ander sighed and thought, “God, it’s hell to be married to someone who knows exactly what you are thinking. Dammit.” She was right, of course. She would find out one way or another. The woman was uncanny. Just last week, he’d eaten two Hershey bars on his way home from the office, thinking she would never know, and darned if she didn’t find the wrappers in the glove compartment the next day.
The boy seemed all right, but nevertheless, he was glad Lordor had him put that clause in his will. It made him feel good knowing that even after he was gone, nobody would ever be able to take the dairy away from his daughter. He still missed Lordor. More and more, he realized that Lordor was the wisest man he’d ever known.
—
THAT CHRISTMAS, AS ALMOST an answer to Beatrice’s prayers, the young man had proposed, and he and Hanna Marie were to be married in the spring. Elner was the first person Beatrice ran to call, almost beside herself with the good news. “Elner, our girl is engaged!” Everyone in town was so happy for Hanna Marie. The young man was so handsome, with curly black hair and blue eyes, and he was obviously crazy about her. He was a hearing person, but he had learned sign language just for her.
The wedding was the biggest social event ever held in Elmwood Springs. Hanna Marie had been the ring bearer at Norma’s wedding, and now Norma was pleased to have been asked to serve as her matron of honor. Hanna Marie’s former sign-language teacher came to sign the marriage vows to her as the minister spoke to them. When both the bride and groom looked at each other and signed, “I do,” there wasn’t a dry eye in the church.
At the reception, the couple danced the first dance, and he was so tender with her. Elner Shimfissle was sitting with Beatrice and Ander at the bride’s table when Beatrice said, “My poor darling, she can’t even hear the music at her own wedding.”
Elner said, “Oh, but look how happy she is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a happier bride.”
Ander beamed. “You’re right, Elner. And that’s all that matters. I want my girl to be happy.”
As Ida then reported in her column, “The wedding was like the perfect ending of a fairy tale, where the princess marries her Prince Charming and they live happily ever after.”
—
RIGHT AFTER THEY WERE MARRIED, and thanks to a generous gift from his new father-in-law, Michael and Hanna Marie sailed to Europe for an extended honeymoon trip. When he purchased the tickets, Ander had thought it was a swell idea for a family trip, but when he told Beatrice, she had not agreed.
“No, Ander, we cannot go on their honeymoon with them.”
“Why not? We’d all have our own rooms.”
Beatrice had compromised with Ander and agreed that they could at least go as far as New York to see them off. That day, as the large ship’s horns blew, preparing to sail, Ander and Beatrice stood on the dock covered with confetti, waving goodbye, and, as usual, it was Ander who became emotional.
—
ON THE THIRD NIGHT out at sea, in the grand dining room, a wealthy widow and a five-time divorcée who’d made the crossing many times before sat at their usual table observing the view and listening to the orchestra. When she noticed Michael and Hanna Marie, the widow asked her friend, who knew everything about everybody, “Who’s that lovely young couple on the dance floor? I’ve not seen them before.”
“No,” said her friend. “Me neither. Their name is Vincent. Word has it that her daddy owns a big dairy somewhere in the Middle West.”
“Ahh…And who is he?”
“Just her husband is all I know, but someone overheard him telling the purser that his wife is completely deaf and to please address everything to him.”
“Oh, no. And such a beautiful girl.”
“And evidently such a rich girl,” said her friend.
She watched for a moment, then said, “Wait a minute, Claudia. How can she dance like that if she’s deaf?”
“I don’t know. He leads and she follows, I guess. Lo
ok at her. She’s so graceful, so slender, so stylish. They may be from the Midwest, but that dress definitely is not.”
“No, definitely not. Look at the way she looks at him—like he just hung the moon.”
The divorcée took another spoonful of her parfait. “She’ll get over that in a hurry, trust me. You never know a man until you live with one, and I should know.”
Just then a singer in a tuxedo stepped up to the microphone and sang:
“Are the stars out tonight
I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright
’cause I only have eyes for you, dear.”
—
TOO BAD ABOUT HANNA Marie’s Prince Charming. Had Ander Swensen followed his instincts and made just a few strategic inquiries, he would have found out that Michael Vincent had indeed been raised in Lake Forest, Illinois, and had attended Northwestern University. But the man his daughter had just married wasn’t that Michael Vincent. In fact, “Michael Vincent” wasn’t even his real name. He had picked the name out of a yearbook.
* * *
THE WHOLE TOWN’S TALKING
* * *
by Mrs. Ida Jenkins
This week, same as last week, the whole town’s talking about the big plan to build an indoor shopping center across the highway from the nursing home. The rumor mill has it that several of our downtown businesses have already started making plans to relocate to this new “mall.” So many changes are taking place.