Pink Flamingoed

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Pink Flamingoed Page 3

by Steve Demaree


  “I picked Amy, because she knows the women on the street as well as the men, and she doesn’t have to rub noses or cheeks with Brad when she talks,” Cora replied.

  Amy did her best to tune out Melanie, as she told Brad about Barney.

  “Barney is a sweet old man, although I can’t say much for his wardrobe. Barney always wears a hat and a loud shirt, which is usually a short-sleeved flowery one in the summer, and, summer or winter, Barney always wears red socks, which, I might add, match his candy apple red 1949 Buick convertible quite nicely. Barney and Bertha are an item. Neither of them has ever married, and those of us on the street wish Barney would hurry up and pop the question. It’s really funny to watch Barney back that red Buick out of his driveway and drive two doors to Bertha’s and pull into her driveway.”

  “That gives me something to look forward to,” Brad replied.

  The group rang Barney’s doorbell. A few seconds later, Barney threw open the door.

  “Is Bertha with you?” Barney asked.

  “Here I am, Sweet Pea,” Bertha replied.

  “And here I am, my Lotus Blossom,” Barney returned.

  “That’s strange. She could hardly hear me when I was hollering in her ear, but just let Barney pop on the scene and her hearing improves dramatically,” Cora said to no one in particular.

  “Does anyone know if Doc Ramsey’s at home?” Barney asked.

  “I don’t know. Let’s just go over there and ring the doorbell,” Cora replied.

  Brad turned to Amy. She already knew the question before he asked. “Doc Ramsey lives next door. He is past seventy and still practices medicine. Not only does he practice medicine, but he goes to work six days a week and even makes house calls.”

  “I’ll be sure to make friends with him. Never know when I might slip on the ice and need a doctor.”

  “Or a nurse,” Melanie butted in.

  “I thought you were a real estate agent,” Brad replied.

  “I am, but if you’re the patient, I can be a nurse, too.”

  As Cora managed to pull Melanie’s claws away from Brad, Doc Ramsey’s car turned down the street. He pulled into his driveway just before the group reached his house.

  “Hi, everyone. Is this the Christmas caroling night?”

  “It sure is, Doc. Come and join us.”

  “Don’t mind if I do. Will there be something to eat? I haven’t eaten yet.”

  “There sure is,” Harry replied, “and the best thing is it’s free.”

  “Next year, we’ll have it at your house, Harry, and you’ll have to pay for it,” Cora said.

  “We won’t be able to do it at my house. My kitchen’s too small,” Harry replied.

  “Your kitchen is the same size as mine, Harry,” Cora responded.

  “Yeah, but Ethel’s getting up in age and it’s hard for her to fix for people anymore.”

  “Does that mean that you’re going to start taking Ethel out to eat, Harry?”

  “No, she’s still okay fixing for two. It’s those bigger numbers she can’t handle.”

  “That’s okay, Harry. I’ll be glad to have it at my house next year. Just make sure you buy all the food and drop it off.”

  Brad enjoyed listening to Cora and Harry go back and forth. He also noticed that Frank, Cora’s husband, was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Brad was beginning to wonder if Harry and Cora were friends or foes when Harry said something that answered Brad’s question.

  “Cora, don’t you love me anymore?”

  “You know I do, Harry, but you’re still a tightwad.”

  “How about me, Cora?”

  “How about you what, Melanie?”

  “Do you love me, too?”

  “Melanie, I love you so much I wish you were my own daughter, so I could ring your neck every time I catch you chasing another man.”

  “But you’ve got a man, Cora.”

  “Not only do I have a man, Melanie. I have a prince of a man.”

  “But I want a prince, too, Cora.”

  “Melanie, if you’d quit chasing every man you see, I might help you find your prince.”

  It was then that Brad realized that all of these people really cared about each other.

  Come to think of it, Brad thought, they’re acting like a lot of families I know.

  “Just two more houses,” Amy said to Brad, “and then it’s over to my place for the after-caroling party, so here goes. On our left we have the home of Lady Catherine McPherson. Lady Catherine claims to be a dramatic actress of the past, although no one on Aylesford Place has ever seen her act, including those who have lived here far longer than I have. Actually, all of us have seen Lady Catherine act, as she always dramatizes her every word.”

  “Sounds like Lady Catherine’s a character.”

  “She is, although she might not be the biggest character in her household.”

  “So, there’s a Mr. McPherson?”

  “There may or may not be a Mr. McPherson,” Amy replied.

  “You mean she might have someone tied up in the basement?”

  “You might be more correct than you think,” Amy answered. “Supposedly, Lady Catherine’s grandson Norman lives in the basement. I have never seen him, because he never comes out in the daytime.”

  “So, we either have a vampire or a dastardly criminal type? Should we break in some day carrying a crucifix?”

  “I don’t know. I’m more in favor of the criminal theory myself. And so, Mr. Holmes, would you care to guess what our Norman does for a living?” Amy asked.

  “Well, Dr. Watson, from your emphasis on the word Norman, it seems elementary that our young recluse works at Bates Motel. Am I correct?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Holmes, but being new to our hamlet you’re probably unaware that Hopemont has no Bates Motel. While I have no idea whether or not our Norman would hurt a fly, he is the night clerk at the Resting Place Motel.”

  “How interesting, Dr. Watson. And I assume it has been Norman’s job to make it a final resting place for some.”

  “Oh, no, Mr. Holmes. I have no idea whether or not our Norman has discontinued the lifetime of any of the motel’s guests, but if so, I imagine he was smart enough to dispose of the bodies.”

  “You’re quite right, Dr. Watson. I say, does this burg have a swamp, or would our Norman’s basement flat have a dirt floor, by any chance?”

  “I am enjoying your conversation immensely, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, but if you’ll save the rest of it for another time, I’ll ring the bell so that we can sing to Lady Catherine and our alleged murderer,” Cora suggested.

  Cora pressed the doorbell.

  “Now, remember, everyone. This is Lady Catherine. We won’t start singing until after she’s greeted us.”

  Brad wondered what Cora meant, but figured he would soon find out.

  In a matter of seconds the door opened and out stepped a woman wearing a more than ample supply of make-up and the brightest red lipstick Brad had ever seen. She also wore a red silk blouse adorned with a large brooch, and long skirt that looked like Scarlet O’Hara had made it out of an extra set of drapes. Brad wondered if this outfit was in style at some time. His character sketch was interrupted by the woman’s address.

  “Is this my neighbors I see before me? The night has fallen and the nightingales are about to sing. Oh, beautiful nightingales. Sing forth from your lips of honey.”

  And this is the more normal one? Brad wondered.

  The group sang their customary three songs, and then Cora asked, “Lady Catherine, will Norman be joining us this evening?”

  “Alas, but fair Master Norman is slumbering below to gain strength so that he can leave to collect his silver coins. But hark, let us embark on our journey to the Mitchell’s and then on, on, on to the feast of the gods.”

  “But Lady Catherine, the night is still young. It is only 7:40 and Norman does not have to be at work until 11:00.”

  “So true. So true. But Master Norman must con
tinue to repose to maintain his strength for the call of the night.”

  “Hey, Amy. What happened to Mr. McPherson, or was there ever a Mr. McPherson?” Brad whispered.

  Amy did her best not to laugh, knowing what Brad must have been thinking.

  “I tried to warn you. Really I did,” Amy replied as she suppressed a giggle that wanted to emerge.

  “One other thing, Amy. Does Melanie know about Norman? After all, Norman is single, isn’t he?”

  At this point Amy could control herself no longer. She laughed and then turned red as the group’s attention turned to her. Luckily, it was dark enough that no one noticed that she was blushing.

  “Something you’d like to share with the group, Amy?”

  “Later, Cora. Later,” Amy replied.

  “Control yourself, oh fairest of the tour guides. We still have one more house to go,” Brad reminded Amy.

  “Well, your comments aren’t much help. Luckily, we will end our journey with one of the street’s saner couples, Jim and Kathy Mitchell. Jim’s a salesman. He sells office equipment and travels extensively. Fair Kathy hibernates most winter days and nights cuddled up with the latest novel. When summer comes, she spends her days shopping with her newlywed daughter, who teaches at an elementary school. The two of them run around looking for bargains at specialty stores and yard sales. And now, this concludes today’s tour. You are now invited to the home of this year’s tour guide for refreshments and a time of mingling with your new neighbors.”

  “Thank you so much, my lady. I accept your gracious hospitality.”

  Once the group had sung to Kathy and a seldom-home Jim, Cora made an announcement.

  “Okay, everybody, let’s head to Amy’s, put on a few pounds, and visit with one another.”

  A Heart-To-Heart Talk

  Amy exchanged her role as a tour guide for that of a hostess. Now the leader of the group, Amy mounted the front steps of her home, inserted the key in the lock, and turned to face the group.

  “Okay, everybody. We’re through singing. Now all of you come in and get all of the food you can eat and something to drink.”

  “Come on Brad. I’ll race you to the Christmas tree cookies,” Cora challenged.

  “How about if I just escort you in?” Brad replied as he held out his arm for Cora.

  Brad entered Amy’s house and saw that she was quite prepared for the season and the crowd. Mistletoe hung from the light fixture in the center of the living room and from the door casing between the living room and the dining room. Christmas trees stood in two corners of the spacious living room. One contained lights of many colors, tinsel, and many ornaments. Each ornament looked much different than any other. A tree skirt wrapped around the bottom of the tree, and the first of what Brad assumed would soon be many presents snuggled next to the tree out of the way of straying feet. A tree which contained white lights and dozens of Chrismons stood in another corner.

  Brad turned and looked at tables containing many kinds of food and drink. It took one table to hold each of the drink containers. According to the cards placed in front of the urns, Amy had prepared hot chocolate, spiced tea, three types of coffee, and eggnog. A much longer table held sandwiches, vegetables and dip, and other finger foods, and a third table held fruit and cream pies, and three cakes; red velvet, chocolate, and applesauce raisin, and two types of brownies; chocolate walnut and butterscotch.

  Wait until Harry sees all of this, Brad thought.

  “Okay, everyone, just throw your coats in the study and help yourselves. I’m not going to feed you,” Amy said in a manner that told Brad she felt comfortable with her guests.

  “Let me show you where to put your coat, Brad,” Frank offered.

  Frank led Brad through the house and into the study, arriving before the others.

  “I hope Cora’s manner hasn’t offended you.”

  “Oh, not at all, Frank. She makes me feel like one of the family.”

  “And you are. I think you’ll really like it here. Other than Amy, Allison, Melanie, and the Armbrusters, most of us have lived here for quite some time, and although we don’t always act like it, we’re quite fond of each other.”

  “Oh, there you are, Brad. I was wondering where you’d gotten off to. Don’t talk him to death, Frank. This boy’s got to eat.”

  Frank and Brad smiled at Cora’s comments. Cora took Brad by the arm and led him to the food.

  “Help yourself, Brad,” Cora encouraged, acting like the hostess.

  “I believe I will. I’m famished and I’d better make sure I get there before Harry does.”

  “You learn fast, rookie, and if I see Harry coming this way, I’ll trip him to buy you some extra time.”

  Brad looked around. Amy’s house looked nothing like his, and not just because it contained furniture and Christmas decorations. While both houses contained living rooms that occupied the front left of the house, the dining room resided at the right front side of Brad’s house. In Amy’s house, the front door emptied into a hallway, and to the right of the hallway was a small office which led to a study. Everyone reached Amy’s dining room through her living room, and on this night, everyone reached Amy’s dining room.

  Brad looked around at the smiling faces of those who welcomed him as if he had lived there all his life. Suddenly, Brad didn’t feel as lonely as he did on his long drive that morning. He had been in Hopemont only a few hours, but already felt comfortable in his new surroundings.

  Brad perused the table, trying to decide what to take.

  “Take some of everything,” he heard the voice beside him say, and turned to face a smiling Barney, wearing a now visible red, white, and green shirt with Christmas trees all over it.

  “By the way, I’m Barney Flowers. You must be the new guy.”

  “Yeah, I’m Brad Forrester. But I thought your name was Sweet Pea.”

  Barney laughed and both men began to fill their plates.

  “Bertha can call me whatever she likes as long as she keeps on calling.”

  “She seems like a nice lady.”

  “The best.”

  The two men continued to talk and followed those in front of them until they had a chance to peruse both tables and take what they wanted to eat and drink. Both men held plates filled with delectable treats. Then, Barney ended the conversation.

  “I’d better let you find a seat. It’s hard to eat and drink standing up.”

  Brad turned to face a walking soliloquy. But then she couldn’t be a soliloquy if she was talking to him, instead of herself.

  “A Christmas cake, a spot of tea, and thee. Is this a new neighbor I see before me?”

  Brad tried not to stare at Lady Catherine’s more than amply supply of make-up.

  “Why, dear, Lady Catherine, it’s so good to see you again.”

  “We’ve met before?” asked a surprised Lady Catherine.

  “Only as one person meets another from the stage to the audience, my dear lady.”

  “Oh,” Lady Catherine exclaimed.

  “And who was I that evening?”

  “The star, as always, Lady Catherine. The star.”

  Lady Catherine blushed, tried to remain humble, and began to reply when someone cut through the crowd, freeing Brad from his audience with Lady Catherine.

  “I saw that,” Amy said from behind. “You naughty boy.”

  Brad turned around and smiled sheepishly at his beautiful new neighbor.

  “I’m sorry, fair maiden. I couldn’t resist. Norman must’ve made me do it. Besides, Lady Catherine is always on stage. Maybe I was referring to her greeting just a few minutes ago.”

  “Well, you’re still a naughty boy, but I’m impressed. You’re fitting in quite nicely for a newcomer. Now you’d better find a seat before you spill everything all over my fine oriental rug.”

  “You bought your hairpiece in the Far East, did you?”

  Amy shivered as she realized how much she was enjoying the new guy’s company.


  “You’d better start behaving or I’m going to call Melanie.”

  “Did I hear someone call my name?” interrupted the real estate agent whose antennae were always up.

  “Yes,” Brad answered. “I believe Amy said she could use some help in the kitchen.”

  Before anyone could answer, Harry came charging through heading for more food and almost knocked Brad off balance.

  Amy grabbed Brad by the arm much as a teacher would a disobedient schoolboy.

  “I told you to sit down. Now, sit here next to Cora before you mess up my orien...uh, carpet,” Amy ordered before turning away to talk to some of the rest of her guests.

  Brad continued to watch his next-door neighbor as she turned and walked away. He focused in on Amy so well that he almost did not hear Cora.

  “You two seem to be getting along quite well for two people who’ve just met,” Cora interjected, wearing a smile Brad could easily decipher.

  “Oh, didn’t you know? We’re cousins on my mother’s side.”

  “And how is your mother’s side?” Cora asked.

  Brad mentally reprimanded himself, forgetting for a moment that no one got the best of Cora. Then, without losing step, he returned Cora’s volley.

  “Oh, it’s much better, thank you. The appendectomy worked wonders. I’ll be sure to tell her you asked about her.”

  “Yes, please do, and please remember to let her know you caught up with Cousin Amy. I’m sure she’d be pleased to know.”

  “Oh, very pleased. Although mother never let on, Cousin Amy was always her favorite.”

  “And my favorite, too. And is she your favorite cousin, Brad?”

  “Absolutely. Cora, I don’t know how I’ve been able to live all these years without her, or without you, dear Cora.”

  “Nor, I without you, Brad. But we were talking about Cousin Amy. Tell me, how long has it been since you last saw her?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m terrible when it comes to time, but my guess would be about two minutes now.”

  “Sometimes two minutes is such a long time.”

  “But when I am with Cousin Amy, time always seems to pass so quickly.”

 

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