Joan Hess - Maggody And The Moonbeams

"Hold on a minute." Heather sat down on a log and plastered the gum on her finger, then removed it. "Okay, I got it out." She picked out the sliver of wood, tossed it over her shoulder, and put the gum back into her mouth. "It might be better for me to go to the cabin. If Darla Jean's hiding in the area, she's more likely to listen to me than someone like you."

"Like me?"

"Oh, you know, like old and everything. Can I tell her she's not in trouble?"

"She's not in trouble if she shows up for supper," I said, resisting the irrational urge to force her to examine my teeth as if I were a racehorse about to be retired to pasture. "I'm more than willing to tell Mrs. Jim Bob and Brother Verber that she spent the afternoon repenting on her knees."

"You'd lie? Isn't that kinda like bearing false witness?"

"Yes, Heather, I suppose it is. You have any better suggestions?"

She mumbled a response and hurried down the path. I gave her a minute's head start, then headed for the lodge as rain began to rustle the leaves.

Jim Bob sat in his office at the back of the supermarket, scrolling through screen after screen of images of sweet young things baring their souls (and other things) for any and all to behold. The more innocent of the websites he'd found focused on hooters. Others were downright lewd, which isn't to imply he objected. Mrs. Jim Bob found her enlightenment in the Bible; he found his on the Internet.

He was downloading pictures from a site featuring pretty little cheerleaders that'd forgotten to put on their panties when Kevin Buchanon came into the office.

"Kin I ask you something, Jim Bob?"

Sighing, he deleted the image on the screen. "You just did."

Kevin sucked on his lip for a few seconds. "No, kin I really ask you something?"

"Two down, one to go."

"But, Jim Bob," Kevin said, lapsing into a whine that made Jim Bob's teeth ache, "I need some advice. I'd ask Arly, or even Ruby Bee, but they're gone for the week, in case you hadn't heard, along with Mrs. Jim Bob. Brother Verber is, too, but this ain't something I'd want to ask him about. I know he's the preacher, but-"

"Spit it out, Kevin."

"What?"

Jim Bob reminded himself that it was damn hard to find employees who were willing to work for minimum wage and had never heard of overtime pay. "You wanted to ask me something."

"I sure did, Jim Bob. Kin I sit down?"

"Does this look like a bus station? Just ask your question and then get back to work. I'm planning to leave in half an hour, and I'm gonna inspect all the aisles to make sure they've been mopped. Jim Bob's SuperSaver Buy 4 Less has a reputation in this community, boy, and I aim to make sure the floors are shiny and the shelves are neat and the produce is mostly fresh. Did you spray the fruit?"

Kevin tried to remember how all this had started. He'd had a question, but now Jim Bob had so many questions that it was murkier than a mess of collard greens. "Well, I guess it ain't a bus station," he said real carefully, "since the only buses that come through town are heading for Branson and they don't stop here. I was spraying the fruit when Idalupino startled me and… well, she grabbed the hose right out of my hand and said she'd finish up. I thought I'd wait till closing time and then wax the floors. I always wax the floors on Saturday night so they'll be nice and bright on Sunday."

"Is this conversation going anywhere?"

Kevin pondered this. "You got somewhere in mind, Jim Bob?"

"You had a question, Kevin," Jim Bob said, barely getting out the words. "Ask it."

"Well," Kevin said, wishing he could sit down but staying where he was, "it has to do with Kevvie Junior and Rose Marie being models in Hollywood."

"Say what?"

"Dahlia's convinced they can be in commercials on account of how cute they is. The thing is, as cute as they is, and ain't nobody better say otherwise, this ad-"

Jim Bob cut him off. "Do I look like somebody who gives a shit?"

"But I was wondering-"

"I get real irritated when I have to repeat myself. When I come in tomorrow, I'd better be able to see my reflection on every square foot of the floor. The oranges and apples had better be glistening like they'd been plucked straight from the orchards. The paper towels on sale better be stacked in a pyramid that damn near bumps the ceiling. Got that, boy?"

Kevin nodded, then left the office and retrieved his mop from a bucket of scummy water. He knew it'd been dumb to go to Jim Bob for advice, but he shore wasn't about to ask Idalupino after the way she'd cussed at him. She should have known better than to creep up behind him when he had the hose in his hand.

Estelle and I were seated at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes and trying to ignore Ruby Bee's grumbles, when the first crack of thunder shook the lodge from the chimney to the basement. Estelle's paring knife clattered on the floor.

"Goodness gracious," she said.

"It's a thunderstorm, for pity's sake," said Ruby Bee. "You plannin' to go upstairs and crawl under the covers?"

"You're a fine one to talk. You've been on pins and needles since we left this morning."

"Mostly because of your driving. I liked to have a heart attack when you passed that chicken truck outside Starley City." She glared at me as though I'd been driving the vehicle under discussion. "There we were, going up a mountainside, no guard rails or nothing, and-"

"I'm just glad you all made it," I said, "and the kids are, too. Do you want the potatoes sliced or quartered?"

Said kids erupted into the front room of the lodge seconds after rain began to pound down with such intensity that I found myself wondering if the lodge might shudder and slide into the lake. I went into the living room, where they were whimpering and shivering like puppies.

"There's firewood on the back porch," I said to Larry Joe. "Amy Dee, you and Lynette can help me make tea for everybody. Ruby Bee hasn't started frying the catfish yet, but we should be able to eat in an hour or so."

Mrs. Jim Bob came down the staircase like Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard . "I can only hope you made satisfactory progress this afternoon," she said as she peered sternly at them. "We only have a week, and the Robarts Foundation is counting on us to do our best."

She undoubtedly would have continued had not lightning hit so close to the lodge that I could feel the hair on my arms quiver. Thunder resounded almost immediately. The light bulbs snapped, crackled, and popped. Dimness of the most dismal sort enveloped us as though someone had thrown a moth-eaten blanket over the building.

"Armageddon is upon us," intoned Brother Verber as he stumbled into the room like a poorly constructed patchwork monster. "Fall to your knees and pray with me, children. 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for Thou art-'"

Although it was far from pitch black, the Dahlton twins began to shriek. Mrs. Jim Bob commenced a lecture that could not be heard over the continual outbursts of thunder. Big Mac fell to the floor and began to roll around, begging forgiveness for everything from stealing hooch from Raz to filching candy from the supermarket and putting a dead fish under the hood of my car. Lynette and Amy Dee clutched each other and sobbed hysterically. Larry Joe was paralyzed with either fear or revulsion.

"Stop this!" I said between claps of thunder. "This is a typical spring storm, not an assault from a SWAT team. We're perfectly safe here. Once the storm passes, we'll replace the bulbs and have supper. The range is gas, so we may end up eating by candlelight, but we will eat. Now let's get some wood and start a fire." I did not add that the dead fish incident would be discussed at a later date, but I figured I had a likely candidate to till my garden patch and keep it weeded for the season.