Fannie Flagg - Standing in the Rainbow

Yo-Yo had come to town he had wanted to win a contest. Last month he had lost the Bat the Ball contest by only three bats but coming in second was not good enough. Following his mother's motto If at first you don't succeed, try again he had tried over and over but without success. Bobby was beginning to wonder if he was destined to always be second at everything for the rest of his life.

This morning he had gotten to the theater an hour early so he could be first in line. He knew the longer you held the gum in your hand and warmed it up, the softer it would get. He had been first in line until three minutes before they opened the doors, when Luther Griggs and three of his friends pushed in front of him, so he wound up fourth in line. There was some consolation, however, because when the man started walking down the line so everyone could pick out their gum, he started at the other end and after all that pushing and shoving, Griggs wound up being last. Bobby heard Monroe let out a big donkey heehaw from the audience when it happened. After everyone had a piece, Mr. Mclntire then walked back to the side of the stage where the microphone was and announced in a booming voice, "Gentlemen, unwrap your gum."

Bobby's heart was pounding and his hands were sweaty as he struggled to unwrap the slickly sticky paper and get his gum out. He kept repeating to himself Nice and easy… don't get rattled. Soon the boys stood at attention with huge marshmallow-sized chunks of white powdery sugary hot pink bubble gum in their palms, waiting for the next signal from the man. Mr. Mclntire looked at his stopwatch, then said, "Get ready… begin!" In unison twelve boys jammed the gum into their mouths and furiously began chewing it like it was something they were trying to kill. Bobby forced himself to remain calm. He knew that part of the secret of a good bubble is not to start blowing until all the gum has been chewed properly… not too soft… not too hard…

Timing was everything. Wait, wait, he repeated over and over in his head. Don't get rattled, don't get rattled, wait, wait. He could hear that some of the boys had already started blowing but he waited until the moment he felt it was just right. Bobby started to blow, slowly at first, then as the bubble grew larger he increased his breathing, deeper and deeper each time, until his shoulders were heaving up and down with each breath. All around him bubbles were popping one by one, up and down the line, but Bobby kept going until he was the only one left. But he didn't know it and just kept on going. He was alone on the stage, all alone looking at the world through the soft pink gauze of a now vast bubble that was growing still larger and larger. There was complete silence in the theater. The entire audience was holding its breath. Will it ever pop? But it kept growing until the bubble covered his entire face and head and more. All the audience could see was an immense pink bubble with a boy's arms and legs below. It grew larger and larger until Bobby felt like he might float up in the air… out the door, over the buildings, and out into the world, never to return. Then it happened. He heard an amazingly soft slow pop and there he stood with bubble gum covering his entire face, including his ears and the top of his head.

"The winner!" screamed Ward Mclntire and the audience was on its feet applauding. What glory. What a triumph. Five minutes later Bobby ran into the Trolley Car Diner with gum still sticking to his eyelashes and ears, waving his free-pass book in the air, yelling, "JIMMY… I WON! I DIDN'T GET RATTLED. I WON!" But before Jimmy had a chance to congratulate him he had run out the door, headed for the drugstore to tell his father. When he got home his mother had to use kerosene to get all the gum out of his hair, and he used up all twenty-five passes in less than a week taking everybody to the movies but he didn't care.

He had blown the biggest bubble in the history of the contest, people said. Maybe the biggest in the entire state. From that day on he felt special.

Winning that contest meant he had been chosen to become a man of destiny after all.

As Bobby found out, sometimes in life you just get lucky and hit the right combination. After years of trying, one day you press the lever of the slot machine and all three cherries line up in the right order and you've hit the jackpot. Such was the case the day Beatrice Woods joined the Oatman Family Gospel Singers.

They had only been together for a few months when a producer from Hallelujah Records heard them sing in Atlanta. After they cut their first album, things started to happen. When Can't Wait to Get to Heaven climbed to the top of the gospel charts, offers started coming in from everywhere. The Singing News soon wrote that they were becoming the hottest new group of the year.

Soon their second album, Once I Was Lost but Praise the Lord Now I'm Found, named after a song Minnie had written inspired by Chester's disappearance, shot to the top of the charts as well. This combined with their appearance on the Arthur Godfrey show and they suddenly became the number one gospel group in the country. To Beatrice's delight, this sudden popularity meant traveling to almost every state in the Union and within six months they had even sung in the White House. By the end of 1949 they were booked fifty-two weeks out of the year and had their own big silver bus with THE OAT MAN FAMILY GOSPEL SINGERS written in big, bold, black letters on both sides.

Although this meant she did not see the family very often, Betty Raye was very happy for their success and equally happy that she was not involved in any of it. As far as she was concerned, her life was perfect. Quiet and peaceful. She did not have to be onstage performing every night and have to pack up and drive somewhere else for the next one. She got to sleep in the same bed in the same town week after glorious week. She had a nice little job she liked, all the books she could read, and went bowling once a week. For the first time in her life she was able to do the same old thing day after day and she loved it. At last she was beginning to feel as if she really belonged somewhere. She wanted it to go on forever. But one day Hamm Sparks walked in the door.

Hamm Sparks was an ordinary young man in most respects smoke a little, dance a little, drink a little, flirt a little. Ordinary except for the one thing. Ambition. When the Ink Spots sang "I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire" the lyrics failed to apply to him. Not that other young men were without ambition but Hamm Sparks burned with it. If he had been a car it would have been racing on all sixteen cylinders and running hot. So hot you got the feeling he could explode at any minute. But unlike some men, who were sick and driven with ambition, he'd never felt better in his life. Hamm thrived on it like it was mothers' milk.

Some would say later that he even glowed in the dark with it. And he had a plan, a goal in life, and at the moment it involved going to college on the G.I. Bill, waiting on tables in the dorm six hours a day, and selling Allis-Chalmers tractors on the weekends and during summers to help support his mother and two younger sisters. Work was something he was not afraid of or resented. He had been working since he was ten years old. Work for him was just a means to an end. In America, no matter how poor you started out or where you came from, you could go as high as you wanted if you were willing to work for it. Hamm thought this was about as good a deal as you could get. It gave him hope for a bright and shining future and he was on his way. He did not know exactly where ye the would figure that out later; all he knew was that he was in a hurry. He had to make up for lost time. He ate fast, talked fast, walked fast, and hardly ever slept. He shook hands, patted backs, and never missed an opportunity to introduce himself to everyone he ran across. What brought him to Elmwood Springs that one particular day was Bess Goodnight. In 1942 he had passed through town on a train headed to Fort Leonard Wood and, like a lot of the other soldiers, had thrown his name out the window, hoping to get someone to write to him. Bess Goodnight wrote to him throughout the war. Like so many of Bess's wartime pen pals, Hamm came to visit her whenever he was near enough to make it over to Elmwood Springs. He got a big kick out of Bess and loved to take her out to the cafeteria for lunch. Hamm loved the idea of good food in a hurry but this Saturday, while going through the line, he slowed a bit when he noticed the pretty girl in the glasses standing behind the steam table waiting for him to tell her what vegetables he wanted. Usually he passed right by the vegetables, on to the desserts, but today he stopped. This girl stood with a spoon in one hand and a small brown plastic bowl in the other, waiting for his order. He looked down at the steam table at the choices.