Miss Dimple Rallies to the Cause

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Miss Dimple Rallies to the Cause Page 9

by Mignon F. Ballard


  “Coach McGregor tells me he’s to be one of the bridesmaids,” Louise Willingham said as she bought a ticket for the show. She laughed. “Thank goodness Ed doesn’t have to wear a dress as father of the bride. Pastels wouldn’t flatter him at all.”

  “Did Ed ever find his missing shotgun?” Miss Dimple asked, tossing Lou’s fifty cents into a metal box.

  Lou shook her head. “No, and I can’t imagine what could’ve happened to it. Jesse Dean says he saw it last on the prop table and they’ve searched every inch of the backstage area. Reynolds Murphy gave him a BB gun from the dime store to use as a substitute, but that shotgun was special to Ed. It was a gift from his father.”

  Miss Dimple said she certainly hoped they would find it and began to tear off tickets for the next in line. The cast of the womanless wedding as well as the other characters scheduled for tonight’s performance were a diversified assortment. She was sure the entertainment of the evening would be well worth the price of the ticket and was looking forward to a few hours of sheer frivolity, but yet … that annoying sense that things were not as they should be still nagged at her, and she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  * * *

  Phoebe Chadwick stood with others from her rooming house with the crowd of people lining the streets to watch the parade. The afternoon was hot and the sun showed no mercy, but she was glad that at least it hadn’t rained. Across the street, her cook, Odessa Kirby, waited with her husband, Bob Robert, under the shelter of an awning in front of the hardware store, and Phoebe wished she had thought to stand on the shady side of the street. Bob Robert’s niece, Violet, would be marching in the parade with the band from the colored high school, and they had been looking forward to this all week. It was a given that they could outplay, outmarch, and outstrut their white counterparts at Elderberry High, and the group received cheers of applause whenever they appeared.

  A few minutes later Lou Willingham and her sister, Jo, pushing her little grandson in a carriage, made their way through the crowd to a spot beside the Kirbys and acknowledged Phoebe with a wave. Lou’s husband, Ed, would be in the parade with the cast of the womanless wedding, and Charlie and her sister, Delia, along with Annie and several others, planned to ride on a float promoting the follies.

  Beside her Lily Moss dabbed her face with a pink-embroidered hankie. “I do hope this isn’t going to last long! I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody didn’t have a heatstroke in this sun.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Lily! I told you not to wear that sweater. It must be close to eighty out here.” Velma Anderson, who shared a room with Lily, dug in her purse and brought out a folded bulletin from the Methodist church, which she passed along for her roommate to use as a fan. Although flushed, Velma looked comfortable enough in her trim gingham dress, and Phoebe herself was glad she had thought to wear light summer clothing.

  Much against her wishes, Dimple had been assigned a seat on a platform in front of the courthouse with the mayor and several other dignitaries, as that was where the rally was to take place. Phoebe looked around for Sebastian and found him conversing with Bessie Jenkins beside Murphy’s Five and Ten.

  Flags waved, and excited children wove through the crowd of people who milled about, calling and waving to one another. A shout went up as they heard in the distance the measured beat of a drum, and onlookers pressed forward to get a glimpse of the soldiers in the Georgia Home Guard who would lead the parade. The uniformed volunteer group was made up of those who were either too young or too old for military service and would be responsible for defending the town if the need arose.

  So many familiar faces. Phoebe Chadwick looked about. Was it one of them? Someone she knew, had known most of her life? Which of these innocent-seeming bystanders was sending the malicious reminders that were making her life miserable?

  CHAPTER TEN

  It was there! Just as expected. Inside the old Prince Albert tobacco tin concealed behind a loose brick in the corner of the wall were three tightly folded ten-dollar bills and a note that read: Who are you and why are you doing this? Please leave me alone! I can’t give you any more.

  But there was more where that came from, so why shouldn’t it be shared? The empty tin went back into its hiding place to wait for the next collection. And what a convenient find this place was! The wall surrounded an abandoned house on a backstreet of the town where few people ever went. There were no neighbors to pry; children were afraid of the deserted old place because they thought it was haunted; and today just about everybody would be at the parade.

  In a few days, just when Phoebe Chadwick would begin to think it was all behind her, she would receive another reminder.

  * * *

  “Annie, what’s wrong? Is Emmaline on the warpath again?” Charlie hurried to find her place on the float near the front of the parade route. As Goldilocks she wore a white apron borrowed from the high-school home-economics department over a baby blue dress Bessie had quickly stitched together and a huge ribbon in her hair. She looked as ridiculous as she felt, but Annie didn’t smile.

  “Frazier’s being shipped out.” Annie made room for her next to Delia, who dangled her legs from the flatbed truck and was wearing a red and white striped nightshirt with matching cap and fuzzy slippers for her part as Sleeping Beauty.

  “Oh, Annie, I’m sorry! Where? When? Will you be able to see him before he leaves?” Still intoxicated with joy from her brief time with Will, Charlie felt her friend’s disappointment even more sharply.

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t know—or at least he’s not telling. He’s supposed to call me soon, so maybe I’ll know more then.” Annie made a face and groaned. “Double, double, toil and trouble…”

  “Uh-oh, don’t look now, but here comes your friend the deputy,” Delia whispered.

  H. G. Dobbins hurried to the float in front of theirs while tugging a lilac ruffled dress over his head, and stopped to speak to Annie. “Guess I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “Maybe we can go somewhere for a Coke or something afterward.”

  Annie’s face tightened. “I don’t think so,” she began. “I’m sorry, I have…”

  But giving a hasty wave, Deputy Dobbins lifted his skirts, climbed on the float ahead, and found his place just as the truck jerked to a start.

  * * *

  Miss Dimple was relieved to find her seat was at the rear of the platform between Buddy Oglesby and Alma Owens, who was slated to sing “America the Beautiful,” which happened to be one of Dimple’s favorite songs. She hoped that just this once, Alma would stay on key. Virginia had confided that when Alma learned she was to be in charge of the rally, Alma had pestered her until she finally agreed to let her take part in the program.

  Virginia shared the front row with the mayor, who had somehow managed to find a stovepipe hat in patriotic colors; the Baptist minister who would give the invocation; and a minor representative from the War Finance Committee, looking most uncomfortable in suit and tie. Behind them, Emmaline Brumlow, as chairman of the evening’s entertainment, sat next to the proud color guard from Elderberry’s Boy Scout Troop 39. Virginia, who disliked speaking in public, had confessed to her friend earlier that she had fortified herself with a generous glass of homemade muscadine wine in advance of the formalities. Dimple hoped the Baptist minister wouldn’t notice.

  Dimple shifted her chair a few inches to take advantage of the shade provided by a redbud tree on the courthouse lawn, noticing that the ladies of the Cherokee Rose Garden Club had planted the area around it with vibrant yellow chrysanthemums. Beside her, Buddy held on his lap the satchel that held change for today’s sale of bonds and stamps. Miss Dimple kept a hand on her yarn-garnished handbag containing the change she would need for those who wanted tickets for Home Front Follies she intended to sell at the end of the ceremonies that afternoon.

  She could hardly help noticing Buddy’s glancing constantly from right to left as if he expected to be ambushed at any second. He was a tall, gangling man whose spasmodic
foot tapping and nervous habit of cracking his knuckles were beginning to be most annoying. Tempted to reach over and give the poor fellow a reassuring pat, Dimple was relieved when the Home Guard, followed by the high school band, turned the corner into Court Street with all instruments blaring “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” This was followed by a float carrying the cast of the womanless wedding dressed in all their finery and a decorated truck filled with several others who would take part in the show, including many of the high school dancers.

  Shouts, cheers, laughter, and whistles greeted the marchers, and Miss Dimple waved at members of the green-clad Girl Scouts, most of whom she had taught as first graders, and at Willie, who, in his blue and gold uniform, marched proudly at the head of the troop of younger Scouts holding the American flag.

  The cheering grew even louder as the band from Westside, the Negro high school, pranced by, and everyone laughed when the flower-covered float from the First Baptist Church proclaiming God is love was immediately followed by one decorated by local students from the University of Georgia with a banner reading, To hell with Tech!

  The mayor, Miss Dimple thought, took longer than necessary to welcome those assembled and to remind the good people of Elderberry that neighboring towns of Covington, Griffin, and Eatonton were working not only to reach their quotas but also to exceed them. This created quite a stir among the members of the population, many of who could be seen muttering to one another about outselling the competition, which, of course, is exactly what the mayor had in mind. Also, he added, everyone who purchased a twenty-five-dollar bond or larger would be treated to a short film at the Jewel featuring actor Walter Pidgeon and a real-life “Rosie the Riveter.”

  Miss Dimple attributed the minister’s brief prayer to the heat of the afternoon, and was grateful for it. After the color guard led everyone in the Pledge of Allegiance, Alma, accompanied by a trio from the reed section of the high school band, gave her rendition of “America the Beautiful.” Thanks to the three young musicians, the soloist stayed more or less on key, and the few times she strayed, they managed to drown her out.

  Dimple found she had been clenching her fists for the duration of the song, but had actually flinched only once. It had been less than a year, she recalled, since President Roosevelt had the salute to the flag changed from holding the right hand out toward the banner to placing it over one’s heart because the former resembled the heinous tribute to Adolph Hitler.

  Virginia spoke briefly, reminding everyone that some types of bonds would pay nearly three percent a year, were backed by the U.S. Treasury, and should be a welcome asset someday to help buy a home or pay for an education.

  “I’m sure most of you know Buddy Oglesby, who will be assisting me at the booth just behind us on the courthouse lawn for those who would like to purchase bonds or stamps. There will be a bond booth as well in the lobby of the high school auditorium for anyone attending tonight’s performance of our own Home Front Follies and, believe me, you don’t want to miss that as I understand Delby O’Donnell will take your breath away in his—er—her wedding finery! My good friend, Miss Dimple Kilpatrick, will have tickets for that available after today’s ceremony at the table to the right of the platform.”

  The fellow from the War Finance Committee who followed Virginia had now removed his tie and loosened the collar of his shirt. He thanked the town, bragged on the Scouts, the bands, and even the soloist, reminding everyone of the importance of supporting their country in this all-important effort to bring the war to a victorious end, and sat down, mopping his face with a monogrammed handkerchief.

  Members of the Home Guard took charge of holding back the surging crowd, forming orderly lines for the many who wanted to invest in war bonds and stamps. In the hour that followed, the Elderberry Woman’s Club made thirty-five dollars selling lemonade at five cents a glass, and Miss Dimple Kilpatrick ran out of tickets for the Home Front Follies. Tonight they would play to a packed house.

  * * *

  Charlie’s stomach growled as she waited backstage for their skit to begin. She and Delia had rushed home after the parade to gulp down a bowl of canned soup and a few soda crackers before they were due at the auditorium. Their mother would follow after she fed Tommy and dressed him for bed before the sitter arrived for the evening. Delia had asked Odessa’s niece, Violet, to help them out and was relieved when she agreed. The teenaged girl was wonderful with children and therefore popular with many of the town’s young mothers.

  “I’m glad we’re early on the program so we can relax and enjoy the rest of the show,” Delia whispered. “I don’t want to miss Uncle Ed giving the bride away.”

  Millie McGregor, as Red Riding Hood, fanned herself with her cape. “It’s sweltering back here. Wish I’d thought to play a character who doesn’t wear so many clothes!”

  “Better get ready. You’re on next,” Buddy Oglesby whispered behind them. He had been commandeered by his aunt to assisting backstage and looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

  Charlie jumped at the sound and stifled a cry. “Good Lord, Buddy, you nearly scared me to death! I didn’t see you back there.”

  Buddy made a face. “That’s because Aunt Emmaline made me wear black so the audience wouldn’t notice me. I’ve been burning up in this shirt all night, and during intermission I have to go back out to the lobby and give Virginia a hand with the bonds sales.”

  Charlie noticed that Jesse Dean, who was helping with props, wore dark clothing as well. From the wings on the other side of the stage, Annie watched, smiling broadly, as the fifth- and sixth-grade girls under her instruction finished their song and dance to a roar of audience applause. “How are we supposed to follow that?” Millie muttered under her breath. Then the stage went dark, and they hurried to take their places.

  After the excitement and energy that went into the parade and rally that afternoon, everyone seemed to be in a mood to relax and enjoy the show, and the audience responded with laughter to the fairy-tale skit and another that followed. Charlie and some of the others rushed to change backstage before joining the audience for the rest of the evening. The high school dancers seemed actually to enjoy their time onstage, and a quartet from the school chorus charmed everyone with several selections, including “Any Bonds Today?” a special song by Irving Berlin.

  Spying Miss Dimple sitting with Virginia in the back of the auditorium, Charlie and Annie slipped into seats beside them. “Have you sold many tonight?” Annie asked Virginia, who held on her lap the satchel containing bonds and receipts from earlier sales.

  She nodded. “Quite a few, and frankly I’ll be glad when all this is out of my hands. Thank goodness I was able to turn over to the bank the money we took in at the rally this afternoon.”

  “Isn’t Buddy going to give you a hand during intermission?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes, thank goodness! It’s going to take both of us to handle this crowd,” Virginia said. “Bobby Tinsley promised to send somebody over from the police department to give us a little security, but I haven’t seen a sign of him yet.”

  “Perhaps we should call,” Miss Dimple suggested. “I can’t imagine what’s holding him up.”

  “Where would we do that? Except for the gas station across the street, which is probably closed, the only telephone around is in the school office, and that’s locked,” Virginia said.

  “I’ll see if I can find the principal,” Charlie offered. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, and I saw Velma sitting down front. Maybe she knows who has a key.”

  “I think you should hurry,” Annie advised. “Buddy’s getting ready to award the prize for the best poster, and after that it’s intermission. Everyone who wants to buy bonds will start moving to the lobby.”

  “Then I suppose I’d better be ready for them.” Clutching the satchel, Virginia rose to her feet.

  “I’ll go with you,” Miss Dimple said, following her. “I can fill in until Buddy gets there.”

  Charlie and A
nnie went in two directions: Annie to find Velma Anderson, who taught secretarial science at the high school, and Charlie to locate Elias Jackson, the principal.

  Making her way through the crowd was like swimming upstream, but Charlie finally wove her way to a side aisle to get a better view and spied the principal in animated conversation with Phil Lewellyn, the pharmacist who had been partner to her father.

  “Well, of course you can use the phone in the office,” the principal said when Charlie explained the situation. “I’ll certainly feel better myself with someone from law enforcement around. I don’t understand what could be keeping them.”

  Charlie followed him down the familiar side hall and waited in the office while he made the call.

  “Well, that explains that,” he told her, frowning as he hung up the phone. “Warren Nelson says the chief was called out a while ago when somebody reported a break-in over on the north end of town, and Warren’s the only one left on duty, so he can’t leave.”

  Then I guess we’ll just have to deal with it on our own, Charlie thought. She didn’t suggest requesting the help of Deputy Dobbins because she didn’t think anyone would take him too seriously in his lilac ruffled gown.

  * * *

  The houselights were blinking when Charlie hurried back to her seat after spending most of the intermission dodging Linda Ann Orr’s mother, who just couldn’t understand why her daughter hadn’t won first prize in the poster contest. Annie, already seated next to Miss Dimple, admitted that she had taken refuge backstage for the same reason. “Oh, well,” she said, “according to my friend the Bard, ‘asses are made to bear…’”

  Virginia collapsed into her seat as the lights went down and let out an audible sigh. “Thank goodness that’s behind me! Never again!”

 

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