Wild Dream

by Duncan, Alice

  “Well,” amended Addie conscientiously, “I don’t reckon I mean shifty in the negative sense.”

  Charley thought about it and asked, “Is there another sense, my dear?”

  She peeked up at him and he realized her cheeks had gone pink. “Oh, I’m sorry, Charley. I’ll bet you think I’m awful, talkin’ about a man of God in such a way.”

  “Nothing could make me think you’re awful, Addie.” Charley wanted to emphasize his words with a kiss, but expected such a blatant display of affection would be considered indelicate by the local prudes.

  “Thank you, Charley. You’re such a fine gentleman. I swan, you take my breath away.”

  He shook his head, amused. He didn’t guess he’d ever get her to believe he was no such thing as a gentleman, but only a poor horn player who’d strayed from the path of righteousness and been redeemed by her goodness.

  “What I meant was, Father Bernardo is real quick to adopt other people’s good ideas, is all.” Addie marched along in silence for a second or two and added fairly, “Although I reckon that’s not such a bad thing, especially out here. He’s real nice.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Oh, Mr. Wilde!”

  The exclamation stopped Charley and Addie in their tracks, and both turned toward the voice.

  When Charley realized Mrs. Chavez was barreling straight for his chest, he barely had time to brace himself before she hit. He guessed his expression must be pretty eloquent of his astonishment when Addie giggled. Feeling utterly helpless, he held his arms out to his side and wondered what he was supposed to do now.

  “Oh, Mr. Wilde!” Mrs. Chavez cried again.

  She didn’t let him go, but continued to sob onto his chest. Charley felt very uncomfortable and was on the verge of asking Addie to rescue him yet again when Mrs. Chavez pushed herself away from him. He staggered backwards.

  “Oh, Mr. Wilde, you saved my baby’s life!” Mrs. Chavez whirled around and this time flung her arms around Addie.

  Eyebrows arching in surprise, Addie stared over Mrs. Chavez’s shoulder at Charley, who couldn’t contain a chuckle.

  “He saved my baby’s life, Miss Addie. He did! He did!”

  Patting Mrs. Chavez in a comforting manner, Addie murmured, “That’s my Charley, all right.”

  She glared at Charley to let him know he shouldn’t be laughing. When he mouthed the words, “But you laughed at me,” she looked grumpy and returned her attention to the weeping Mrs. Chavez.

  Another female voice cried, “Addie! Mr. Wilde!” Addie jerked her head up.

  Charley looked too, and discovered Mrs. Paul rushing towards them. A sudden urgent desire to flee assailed him, but he recognized it as being cowardly and stood his ground. If Addie could face this next menace with fortitude, so could he.

  Addie finally pried Mrs. Chavez away and after one last hug for Charley, she left them, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes. Her place was immediately claimed by Mrs. Paul, who seemed to be crying, also.

  “Oh, Addie and Mr. Wilde, I just don’t know how to thank you for taking my Homer under your wing the way you’ve done. Why, every week he just can’t wait until he can go to your place for another cornet lesson. And he’s trying so hard to be just like you, Mr. Wilde.”

  Charley wanted to tell Mrs. Paul that she should beg her child to emulate somebody with sturdier morals, but he didn’t guess he’d better.

  “And Addie, it’s so wonderful of you to let Homer have lessons at your farm. There’s not a place in our house that isn’t full of children.”

  “You know it’s no bother, Glenda. And Homer’s a fine boy. Why, I’ll warrant he just got bored with nothin’ to do, is all, and thought the gangs sounded romantic.” Addie shot Charley a look which told him he’d better not say a word. “He’ll be just fine. You’ll see.”

  Wiping her streaming eyes, Mrs. Paul said, “I reckon you might just be right, Addie. And it’s all because your fine man took an interest in him, too.”

  “Shucks, ma’am—” Charley got no further, because Mrs. Paul interrupted.

  “And it’s so wonderful about your engagement, too! Why, I can’t think of two nicer people to get married!”

  “Thank yo184 |u, Glenda. I’m so happy I could bust.”

  “Me, too,” said Charley, because he was.

  Mrs. Paul dripped away, and they resumed their walk to Calhoun Park. Charley had just begun to hope they’d make it all the way to the park at last, when yet another cry rent the air.

  “Mr. Wilde!”

  This time the voice came from a set of distinctly masculine vocal chords. Charley and Addie turned around to find Father Bernardo rushing towards them.

  “Oh, dear, I hope nobody told him about me callin’ him shifty.” Addie chewed her lip.

  “I’m sure nobody would do such a thing.”

  Her look told him she didn’t believe it for a minute. She resumed chewing her lip nervously.

  “Mr. Wilde, it’s good to see you today.”

  Father Bernardo’s smile was one that invited a body to respond in kind. Charley did so, and stuck out his hand in greeting, as well.

  “How-do, Father Bernardo. It’s good to see you, too.”

  “Good day, Miss Adelaide.”

  “Hello, Father Bernardo. Beautiful day for a fair, isn’t it?” Addie shook the priest’s hand, still looking edgy.

  “I just wanted to congratulate the two of you on your upcoming nuptials. You’re getting a fine woman in Miss Adelaide Blewitt, Mr. Wilde.”

  “I think so, too, Father.”

  “And you’re getting a fine, fine man, Miss Addie. Why, everybody in town is talking about how Mr. Wilde saved Mrs. Chavez’s little girl, helped Homer Paul out of a bad fix, and is teaching Sun in His Eyes how to play the horn.”

  “They are?” Charley gaped at the priest.

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Wilde. Around here no good deed gets by without notice. Or a bad one, either, for that matter.”

  With a thought to Fermin Small, Charley allowed as to how Father Bernardo might just have something there. His insides knotted up for a second, but his optimistic bubble shoved the knot aside.

  “Isn’t he wonderful, Father Bernardo?” Addie hugged Charley’s arm.

  “I guess he is at that, Miss Addie. His men all look up to him, too. Why, your Mr. Gilbert was telling me just yesterday afternoon that you’re the only thing that’s held the band together all these years, Mr. Wilde. I’d be willing to bet your men consider you their savior.” Father Bernardo made a quick sign of the cross and looked up toward the heavens. “No disrespect intended.”

  Since Charley was unused to blushing, he didn’t recognize the heat under his collar as a blush until Addie poked him and said, “Why, he is their savior, Father. And just look at him. He’s turnin’ all red about it!”

  “Addie!” Charley muttered, embarrassed to death.

  Father Bernardo chuckled. “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to being treated as a hero, Mr. Wilde. We latch onto our heroes whenever and wherever we find them around here, and the town seems to have latched onto you. Heroes are few and far between in these parts. It’s a pleasure to welcome one to our community.”

  The priest gave Charley and Addie another pleasant smile and strolled away. Addie sighed. “I reckon he’s not so shifty after all, Charley.”

  This time, when they continued their walk to the park, they made it all the way without interruption. Feeling vastly relieved, Charley greeted his men.

  “Guess I’d better join the boys now.” Charley found himself strangely reluctant to have Addie leave his side. He bent and whispered, “Tell me where you’ll be sitting. I’ll play ‘Wood Up Quick Step’ just for you.” He felt a little foolish until he saw how pleased she looked.

  “I’ll sit right down in front, Charley. Everybody expects it, anyway, ‘cause of Aunt Ivy. I’d like that real fine if you were to play it ‘specially for me.”

  She stood quickly on her tiptoes and
gave Charley a little kiss on his cheek, right in front of God and everybody in Rothwell. Inspired by her boldness, he wanted to pull her into his arms and give her a real kiss but didn’t, out of deference to her position as a respected lady in the community and his as hero. Hero. Good grief.

  Oh, my, what a glorious day, Addie thought. And it was the day she and Charley were going to announce their love to the world. When she returned to the wagon to help Aunt Ivy carry their baked goods into the church, she felt perfectly dandy.

  Her happiness shriveled slightly when her Aunt Pansy’s loud nasal whine smote her ears.

  “Well, there you are! I declare, I’d begun to think the two of you were hiding from me.”

  Ivy didn’t hear her and continued reaching for the iced cupcakes Addie had baked yesterday. Addie heard her, though, and frowned. Although she knew it to be disloyal, she couldn’t seem to look upon her aunt Pansy in a kindly manner. The woman just had a way about her—a negative way, in diametric opposition to Addie and Ivy’s sunnier, friendlier dispositions.

  “How do you do, Aunt Pansy,” Addie said formally, maintaining her stiff demeanor on purpose.

  “I’m bad, though I’m sure you don’t really care. My lumbago hurts like thunder and my rheumatism is worse than it’s ever been. And I got robbed five weeks ago, and the sheriffs in two whole towns can’t get up enough gumption to arrest the men who did it.”

  Addie’s soft heart melted immediately. She gave her aunt a quick hug. “You mean they know who the criminals are and aren’t doing anything about it?”

  A caustic smile settled on Pansy’s face. “They do and they aren’t. But I’ll make ‘em do it today, ‘cause I’ll recognize the devils. You bet.”

  “Mercy sakes.” Addie’s hand strayed to her bosom and she stared at her sourpuss aunt for a moment before she resumed unloading the wagon. It did not escape Addie’s notice that Pansy didn’t offer to help, but stood back and glared at her and Ivy.

  “What did the robbers take, Aunt Pansy?” Addie asked politely as she toted an angel-food cake to the bake sale table inside the church.

  “They didn’t get away with anything,” her aunt said smugly. “I shot one of ‘em.”

  “My goodness.” Addie didn’t know what else to say except that such an action on her aunt’s part didn’t surprise her much. She opted not to mention it as the thought was not borne of a flattering assessment of her aunt’s sturdy frontier character, but rather the feeling that Pansy would probably enjoy shooting people if she had a chance.

  It was undoubtedly a good thing ladies didn’t form gangs and ride around the countryside terrorizing people like gentlemen did. Addie could feature her aunt Pansy as the leader of just such a gang. The family would never live it down.

  Ivy noticed her sister just then and smiled at Pansy, who didn’t smile back. Addie thought it was just like Ivy to be polite, even if Pansy wasn’t.

  “‘Afternoon, Pansy,” Ivy said pleasantly, picking up her horn and holding it to her ear. “Nice day for the fair, isn’t it?”

  “Humph,” Eyeing her sister’s hearing horn with distaste, Pansy said, “What did you go and make such a blasted mess of your horn for, Ivy?”

  Addie could have smacked Pansy when she saw the look of distress cross Ivy’s face. Why, Ivy was exactly right about Pansy. Pansy was a mean-hearted, nasty old—old—old biddy. Addie longed to say so aloud, but had been taught better manners than that. Instead, she said stoutly, “I decorated Aunt Ivy’s horn, Aunt Pansy. It’s pretty, and we like it. Everybody in Rothwell likes it.”

  “It figures. This place always was a dratted backwater.”

  Although Addie longed to ask Pansy what the much-smaller Arleta was if Rothwell was such a backwater, she didn’t. She drew herself up straight and looked down her nose at Pansy. It was a credit to Addie’s native ability and steady practice on Fermin Small that she carried the haughty look off so well, as she was a good four inches shorter than Pansy.

  She did it, though. Addie noticed with triumph that Pansy began to look uncomfortable after only a second or two of Addie’s look.

  Ivy, recovering composure that had been crushed by her sister, said, “Pansy, you’ll never change. You may make tolerable bread-and-butter pickles, but you’re as mean as the day you were born.”

  Addie hadn’t heard her aunt Ivy sound so mad since the last time Pansy visited.

  “The day I was born? Well, I like that. You came into the world screaming fit to kill. It’s no wonder you’re deaf, Ivy Blewitt. You must have busted your own eardrums with your constant squalling.”

  “Well, of all the nerve! I may be deaf, Pansy Blewitt, but at least my own brother didn’t make me live in another town because he couldn’t stand the sight of me!”

  Addie wasn’t sure whether Pansy gasped or not, as her own gasp sounded so loud in the still air.

  “How dare you?” Pansy screeched.

  “How dare I? How dare I? It’s the Lord’s honest truth, Pansy Blewitt, and you know it! Why even Papa couldn’t stand to be around you for more than five minutes at a time. He used to leave the house whenever you came in it!”

  “He did not!”

  “He did, too!”

  Oh, dear. Addie wasn’t sure what to do. She was a little afraid of getting in between the sisters when they were ripping at each other this way. She’d seen her father do it once, and get himself mauled for his efforts.

  Fortunately Mr. Topping, alerted by the noise, appeared on the church steps. His pink cherub’s face shone in the May sunshine, and he smiled at the Blewitt sisters as he came down the stairs towards them.

  Addie held her breath and prayed hard when the preacher—bravely or foolishly; she knew not which—stepped between the sisters. “What a pleasure it is to see you here today, Miss Pansy. Why, you haven’t been to Rothwell in ages and ages.”

  “And a good thing, too,” Ivy muttered.

  When Pansy did no more than utter a scathing snort, Addie began to breathe more easily. She gave Mr. Topping a smile of encouragement.

  “And how have you been, Miss Pansy?” Mr. Topping still seemed to be striving for a friendly manner.

  “I almost got myself robbed and murdered the other day, Mr. Topping,” Pansy said dramatically, making it sound as though the barely averted disaster was all Mr. Topping’s fault.

  “Well, now, that’s a real shame, Miss Pansy.” Darting a glance between the sisters, he made an obvious decision to avert violence, and grabbed Pansy by the shoulder. “Why don’t you come inside the church with me now, Miss Pansy. I think my dear Eustacia has some of her special cider punch inside.”

  “That sour apple water she makes up?”

  Addie gasped and uttered a shocked, “Aunt Pansy!”

  After Mr. Topping’s initial start of consternation, he swallowed hard and gave Addie a What can one expect? look, which she returned in kind.

  Ivy, who’d heard her sister’s remark, gasped, too. “Why, you miserable old shrew! I declare, you’re a disgrace to the Blewitt name!”

  Pansy sniffed, but had the grace to look slightly abashed. She generally tried to confine her nasty barbs to the family.

  Addie and Ivy glared after her as Mr. Topping led Pansy up the stairs and into the church.

  “I declare, Addie,” Ivy said bitterly, “if that woman wasn’t my own sister, I wouldn’t even speak to her.”

  “I don’t blame you, Aunt Ivy. I wouldn’t, either.”

  The two Blewitt ladies finished emptying the wagon. They pointedly ignored Pansy each time they entered the church with more baked goods.

  Chapter 19

  The former America City, Georgia, Brass Band was scheduled to take to the makeshift stage at twelve noon and entertain the citizens of Rothwell and Arleta during the lunch hour. Addie made sure she and her aunt Ivy were in their places well before the appointed time, because she wanted to be sure they got a seat up front. Neither she nor Ivy asked Pansy to join them for lunch, and Addie made a point of not l
ooking for her bad-tempered aunt in the gathering crowd.

  “She can just sit all alone by herself.”

  Ivy gave Addie a little kiss on the cheek to thank her for her support. “I agree, Addie. I don’t want to give myself indigestion by having to listen to her bellyache all through the potato salad.”

  Just then, Addie spied Sun in His Eyes and his boy Cloud. The two stood away from the crowd of Rothwellites and Arleta-ites, looking somewhat uncomfortable. Addie stood up in a fluff of petticoats and waved both arms in the air. “Sun! Sun! Over here!”

  To Ivy, whom she’d startled by her abrupt leap to her feet, Addie said, “They can eat with us, Aunt Ivy. That way, if Pansy does decide to bother us, she won’t dare.” Her aunt Pansy had mentioned her fear of Sun more than once, a prejudice so absurd Addie didn’t even try to dissuade her of it.

  “Good idea, Addie.” Ivy turned around and beckoned the two fellows as well.

  Addie noticed wryly that her aunt Pansy wasn’t the only Indian-fearer among the spectators. A wide path cleared as Sun and Cloud headed through the crowd. To diffuse any unpleasantness, she walked towards them with her hands held out in greeting, daring anybody to object at the risk of having to deal with her.

  Mr. Topping called a greeting to Sun, too, further relaxing the crowd, and Addie silently blessed the good man. Then and there she resolved to put an extra nickel in the collection plate tomorrow.

  “Charley Wilde good horn teacher,” Sun announced as soon as he and Cloud were seated.

  “Is he now?” To Sun’s boy, she said, “Howdy, Cloud. Are you goin’ to be takin’ up the cornet, too?”

  The ten-year-old nodded solemnly. “Only if Charley Wilde teach me.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be happy to teach you.”

  With a somewhat wicked grin, Sun said, “I got me another horn for Cloud to use. We both take lessons.”

  “Now where on earth did you get another horn, Sun?”

  “Another foolish soldier,” Sun said smugly.

  “Poker?”

  “Poker.”

  “I swan, Sun, you’re teaching your boy some bad habits with your poker playin’.”