“Two, the number two. ‘Tea for two and two for tea, me for you and you for me.’ ” Mutzi would have continued except the deafening silence of the hall, bursting to the seams with people, warned him that everyone wanted to get on with the game.
“Got it!” Wheezie smacked down her dab-a-dot, leaving a clear blue circle. She leaned over Diz’s chest. “Nickie, I have to powder my nose. Will you play my card?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
Diz slid the card over to me and Wheezie hurried to the ladies’ room. It must be killing her to miss even a second of this game.
“Give me thirty, give me thirty, I want to see children clean and never dirty.” Mutzi swayed at the microphone.
The lights cut out. We were plunged into darkness. You can always tell the hypochondriac in the room because Sister BonBon shouted, “My eyes! What’s happened to my eyes!”
Mutzi spoke clearly into the mike. “Just a minute, folks. Don’t lose your place. We’ll have light restored in a second. Peepbean. See to it, will you?”
True to his word, within a minute or two the lights came on.
A furious Wheezie sputtered as she stumbled out of the ladies’ room. “What’s the big idea? You pulling a fast one, Mutzi?”
“Now, Wheezie, you know I wouldn’t do something like that to you.”
Wheeze glowered at him and scurried back to our table. She leaned over Mom. “I’ll get you for that, Julia!”
“Can it, Wheezie. Every time something goes wrong I am not behind it.”
“Let there be light,” Mutzi jovially said, then remembered Father Christopolous was in the room, and coughed. “Ready, steady, go.” The Ping-Pong balls bounced upward again. “Twenty-three, twenty-three, Wheezie had to—hmmm, let me see.”
At that the room roared with laughter and Aunt Wheeze bent her head over her card. She glowed crimson.
“Okay, seven, lucky seven and—Hey.” Mutzi’s voice trembled as he plucked a ball out of the machine. “Hey, is this a joke? The money’s gone!”
Peepbean hustled over and inspected the table.
“You see anything?” Mutzi’s Adam’s apple spiraled upward.
“Nope. Gone.”
Millard joined Peepbean. This was a family affair. They got under the table. Nothing.
Mutzi fought for control over himself. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to have to suspend play until we find the pot.”
Bucky, the big cheese, sashayed up there. He, too, looked around. David Wheeler stayed in his seat. Damned if he’d help Bucky until asked, and Bucky would never ask.
Bucky pushed Mutzi aside and boomed into the microphone so that it squawked: “Don’t nobody move! I will inspect every purse and every pocket and go over this place with a fine-tooth comb. Peepbean, you’re my deputy for the night.”
Peepbean, no fan of Bucky’s, did what he was told.
Bucky started at one end of the tables and Peepbean at the other. Michell, quick-thinking, was writing down everything in sequence as it happened.
“You freelancing, Michelle?” I asked.
“This might be a good story.”
“I’ll buy it.” Diz smiled but he cast his eyes about the room, sweeping, searching.
Aunt Wheezie clutched her heart. “My angina.”
“Oh, Aunt Wheezie, not now,” I moaned.
Diz put his arm around her. “Let me help you.”
He rose to help her up and she wobbled to her feet with his assistance. Mom leapt up and got on the other side of her. “Come on.”
“Sit down!” Bucky bellowed.
Diz, with authority, replied, “She’s sick, Bucky.”
“I don’t care. Nobody moves.”
Aunt Wheeze swooned. Ed rose to help Mom and Diz. He tried to take Wheezie’s pocketbook off her arm. She held it closer.
“She sleeps with her pocketbook, Ed. In fact she has the first dollar she ever made.”
“I hate you!” Louise hissed at Julia.
“You’re ill, Mrs. Trumbull.” Diz was polite.
“I’m sick of her is what I am.” Wheezie began to revive quite miraculously from her angina attack.
“I told you all to sit down.” Bucky’s face darkened.
“Goddammit, Nordness, we’ve got to call an ambulance.” David Wheeler, fed up, mixed into it.
“You stay south of the line, you dumb redneck. You’re in Pennsylvania now and you’ll do as I say.”
As these two bitched at each other, Diz, Ed, and Mom helped Wheezie over to the door to fresh air. I walked over to help too.
“Sit down, Nickel!” Bucky shouted at me.
I quite forgot myself. “Fuck off, Nordness!”
A few people clapped. Others snickered. When my head was turned to yell at Bucky, Louise dashed out the door. Mutzi saw her first. He picked up the .38 and fired a warning.
“Louise!” Mutzi shouted as he discharged the gun.
Goodyear howled, screamed, warbled the most godawful sounds, and then flopped down.
“The dog’s been shot!” Michelle screamed. She crawled under the table to revive Goodyear, whose tail was already wagging.
“Shot!” The word was repeated at faraway tables where people couldn’t see Goodyear.
Lolly started barking. Mutzi fired again. Then asshole Bucky pulled his revolver and peppered the ceiling. It did not quell the panic; it agitated it. People burnt the wind getting out of there. Tables were knocked over and the last I saw of Pewter, she charged over debris and leapt over chairs.
Mutzi, still at the mike, hollered, “Mayday! Mayday!”
Verna shouted back, “Of course, it’s a May day, you silly twit.”
That was all I saw inside because I was running as fast as I could to get into the Square. I had to find Aunt Louise before anyone else did, most notably Bucky Nordness.
Someone was running with me neck and neck. To my amazement, it was Mother. Right on my heels were Mr. Pierre, Diz, and then David Wheeler, who edged past us. Unfortunately, Bucky used the parking lot exit and as we spilled into the Square he came around the side of Saint Rose’s, his revolver pulled, firing into the air.
Aunt Louise had reached the cannon. I could see her breathing was labored, and with an afterburner burst of speed I pulled away from the others and drew closer to my aunt, whose face was dangerously mottled.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!” Bucky ordered.
I twisted my head and witnessed the gun leveled straight at me. I didn’t stop.
Mother ran between me and the line of fire. She was waving her arms like a crazy woman. “Don’t shoot! You’ll kill the baby!”
Wheezie, collapsed against the cannon, crabbed at Julia: “She’s not a baby. She’s forty-two years old.”
“She’s going to have a baby,” my mother screamed at the top of her lungs. She was still waving her arms as Bucky advanced upon us both.
“What?” Numb with shock, Louise dropped her purse, and the bingo money fell out of it.
Bucky caught up with us and started to put Louise in handcuffs. Lolly sprang at him and bit him in the leg right about the same time that David Wheeler tackled him around the waist. Goodyear streaked across the Square toward Mom. Mr. Pierre and Diz reached Louise. Diz picked up the money and stuffed it in his pockets as he mumbled to Louise, “Keep your mouth shut.”
“Is that how your family got rich?” Louise was just plain outrageous. What had gotten into her? She swooned for an instant.
“I’m going to say I stole it. Now shut up, Mrs. Trumbull,” Diz commanded. “I realize this will be difficult for you.”
I started to laugh. Mother was taking Louise’s pulse and Ed was fanning her with his handkerchief.
“Why’d you do such a fool thing?” Mother growled to her sister.
Ursula Yost, nailed to the spot, had her hand covering her mouth. She appeared to be in shock at the disclosure of my pregnancy. Shock would soon turn to righteous indignation.
By now Mutzi was with us, too, as was most
of Runnymede. The grunts and groans of Wheeler versus Nordness were frightening. I pulled Lolly away because she was going to bite Bucky again. Goodyear was eyeing his other leg.
“Why’d you steal that money?” Mother wouldn’t let up on Wheezie, who was enjoying, the tiniest bit too much, the attentions from Ed, Mr. Pierre, and Diz. She was oblivious to the situation she had created.
“I wanted a face lift.”
“Why?” I dragged Lolly back to her side.
“Because Ed wouldn’t’ve fallen in love with Julia except she’s younger.”
“Huh?” Ed was puzzled. “You told me she was your older sister.”
“Well—I—” Wheezie blushed. She didn’t mind stealing the money; she minded getting caught in the fib.
The fight between David and Bucky escalated. None of the men dared separate them, and they were doing each other bodily harm.
Mutzi fished out the wick on the cannon. “Diz, jam the ball down the cannon muzzle.”
Diz, next to the cannon balls, heaved one up and set it on the lip of the muzzle. With a shove it rolled into the barrel. Diz Rife was having the time of his life.
“Got a ramrod of some kind?” Mr. Pierre asked.
Wordlessly, an umbrella was passed over to Diz. We never did see where it came from. Diz wiggled the umbrella around. “Best I can do.”
Mr. Pierre lit a match. “Stand back.”
Everyone jumped out of the way except for David and Bucky but it didn’t matter because they were rolling around on the ground. Mr. Pierre touched the match to the wick and within seconds a tongue of flame unfurled from the mouth of the cannon, followed by a roar. Michelle put her hands to her ears. A crash of glass and splintering of wood greeted our ears. Falkenroth, Spangler & Finster again. The cannon produced the desired effect. It broke up Bucky and David. They scrambled to their feet.
As they did so, David adroitly shoved Bucky over the Mason-Dixon Line. “Stay on your side, asswipe!”
Lip bloodied, police shirt ripped, Bucky swayed on his feet, trying to decide what to do. He warned, “I’ll get you, Wheeler, just you wait.” Then he wiped his mouth and saw the blood on his shirt.
A moment of quiet followed this pandemonium. Aunt Wheezie abbreviated the silence as she said to me: “Are you really pregnant?”
“Yes.” I spoke as loudly as I could under the circumstances.
“In that case I want my car back! And I’m not refunding any of the money. Our family has been through this before and—”
“Shut up, Louise!” Mother said.
At that Goodyear howled, screamed, and flopped over dead again. The dog twitched with happiness at being able to perform his trick twice in one night.
Aunt Wheeze observed this in horror. “What’s wrong with the dog?”
“Nothing,” Mother lied.
“Don’t take me for a fool, Julia. That dog does that on purpose.” She walked over to Goodyear, who hadn’t gotten back on his feet again. “Louise.” She enunciated perfectly.
Goodyear, since he was already on the ground, couldn’t fall down, so he howled and rolled over. The bystanders, caught between laughter and shock at everything that was going on, put their hands to their mouths. This was not lost on my aunt.
“Julia, does everyone know about this?” Her face was empurpled.
“Well—” Mother waffled.
“You don’t have much room to be superior. I don’t think this is funny. I don’t think you’re funny. You’re a rotten mother but then what could anyone expect? You never gave birth. You don’t know what real mothering is about. You took in this bastard here.” She pointed directly at me. “And now she’s an unwed mother too. More little bastards!”
Mr. Pierre opened his mouth, “Just a minute—”
Louise cut him off. “Pariah!” She pointed at me again.
“What’s a pariah?” little Decca BonBon asked.
“That’s something like a martyr with more suffering and less class.” I tried to salvage this family debacle with whatever humor I could dredge up.
“Shut up!” Louise wheeled on me. “If you hadn’t invaded our family, none of this would have happened.” She looked from me to Mother. “I’ve done Jesus one better. He had one Judas. I’ve got two!”
“Just a minute, just—” Mr. Pierre tried again.
This time Mother cut him off. “You listen and you listen good, Louise.” Goodyear started to howl. “Shut up, Goodyear!” Mother meant it. The poor dog put his tail between his legs and lay down. Lolly lay down next to him. “You blab, blab, blab about being a mother.” Louise moved back a step. “Your daughter Maizie threw used sanitary napkins at passers-by in the Square. They had to take her away. Don’t talk to me about being a mother. You did a piss-poor job of it!”
Louise’s eyes looked like poached eggs. She attacked Juts with a fury. As she swung her purse more money fell out of it. The sisters were on the ground rolling around, an older distaff version of David and Bucky. Eight decades of hate rolled around with them.
Diz surveyed the situation and then put another ball down to the muzzle. “Mutzi?”
Mutzi nodded his head. “Yo!”
Mr. Pierre touched off the wick, and boom! Falkenroth, Spangler & Finster was being reduced to rubble. Mother and Louise sprang apart, and that fast, Ed grabbed Mom and Diz pinned Louise. They dragged them apart in opposite directions, Orrie tagging along after Louise. I was left with everyone staring at me. I opened my mouth but Mr. Pierre stepped beside me.
He put his arm around me. “Ladies and gentlemen, we had hoped to announce this under different circumstances but the present seems the time. We’re going to get married.”
Not one person believed that Mr. Pierre was the father of my child but that was beside the point. Everyone cheered.
Diz called out that he would be taking Louise home and Ed said the same about Mother. It was a good thing because none of us could have withstood another bombardment.
When I walked into the bingo hall Michelle came with me, as did Lolly and Goodyear. Arnie Dow, Jackson, and the men were already righting tables.
“Are you going to marry him?” Michelle asked.
“If you have a better answer, tell me.”
Regina walked up behind me. “I’m happy for you, and the hell with public opinion.”
The three of us searched for Pewter. My kitty loathes loud noises and I feared she was cowering somewhere or, worse, had been trampled in the melee. I did notice as I continued the search that not a scrap of food was on the floor, nor on any of the tables. As the dogs had run out with me, suspicion began to fall on Pewter, wherever she was.
“Found her,” Michelle called from the other end of the room.
There was Pewter, in the Ping-Pong ball machine. The cat had eaten so much she couldn’t move. Even though the air current was on to push the balls in the air, none of them were moving. Closer inspection revealed that each Ping-Pong ball had fang marks. Punctured, they couldn’t rise with the air.
That was it for blackout bingo, May eighth. Blowout, as it was instantly christened, if braved again, would have to be scheduled for another time. I had no intention of stopping at my mother’s. I wasn’t mad at her but I figured she was being ministered to by Ed. As for Aunt Louise, I could wring her neck. So Goodyear, Lolly, Pewter, and I drove home. Pewter burped the whole way, the little pig.
46
THE BIRTH OF THE MERCURY
SATURDAY … 9 MAY
Strong coffee with chicory brewed in my coffeemaker. Lolly and Goodyear shared a bowl of doggie crunchies drenched in warm meat broth. Pewter ate a light breakfast. Small wonder. The old railroad clock on the wall read seven forty-five a. m. I was on my second cup of coffee when I heard a car pull up behind the old Chrysler. I cursed because I needed the time to myself to sort out what happened last night. I was also praying that jackleg police chief Bucky Nordness would not press charges against Louise, even though she richly deserved it. And what if he vented his spleen on
Lolly? I didn’t look out the window because I was sure it was Mother or, worse, Wheezie. A rap at the door dispelled that notion.
“Come in.”
The front door swung open and Charles Falkenroth stepped into the front hall just as I was coming in from the kitchen.
“Nickel, I hope you will forgive this intrusion at an early hour but I know you’re always up at the crack of dawn and I must speak with you.”
His face, ashen, worried me.
“Let’s talk in the kitchen. I’ve made chicory coffee and I have the best bran muffins this side of the Mississippi.”
“You didn’t make them.” He smiled weakly and followed me into the kitchen.
“Mom did, Thursday, but I’ve kept them in the fridge.”
He observed the large muffins. “Thanks, no. I’m off my feed. Take coffee though.”
As I poured the coffee he soaked in the atmosphere of the place. Lolly trotted over for a pat. “Nickel, the memories I have of this house and Cora … I used to love to come up here as a boy. I think every kid in Runnymede did. She was a wonderful woman, your grandmother.”
“Did you know she couldn’t read or write?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
I put the coffee before him and he thanked me. “She was born in 1888—no, it was 1878, I think. They didn’t have much money and Cora went to work early. Schooling wasn’t wasted on girls.”
He shook his head. “Maybe the good old days weren’t so good.”
“They never are.”
“Nickel, I’ve made a terrible mistake. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’ve barely said two civil words to Ann. I should never have sold the Clarion. What was I thinking of? If I retire I’ll die. I called Diz but he won’t sell me back the paper—and I don’t blame him. I’ve come to ask for your forgiveness and for your help.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. You did what you thought was right and you sought the best deal for all of us. By the way, what are you going to do about Morningside? Ann had her heart set on it.”
“We’re hoping to winter there. Ann’s talked with Orrie and I think we’ll buy a house together. It’s too expensive now by ourselves.”
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