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Authors: Rita Mae Brown

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BOOK: Alma Mater
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door, peered in the keyhole. There wasn't any more light from that
angle.

Then she walked down the hall, careful not to step on the floor
boards that creaked, and opened the door to Vic's bedroom. Jinx was
sound asleep. Vic's bed was empty.

Mignon, at first, was shocked that her sister was in Chris's room.
Clearly, they weren't playing bridge. The shock quickly passed, curiosity taking its place. Mignon now had another secret to keep.

 

T

he distinctive tang of fall filled the air
;
a rich perfume of river,
leaves, and soil. Heavy with mist, opaque sunrise filtering
through silver, it was a late September morning according to

the calendar, but fall had arrived overnight. Nature's tempo changed,
creatures moved faster, birds' eyes glittered more brightly, crickets
sang louder. Even the river shrugged off its massive lethargy, flowing
with a quickened pace.

Jinx, usually loath to rise early, surprised herself by waking at six. Vic, already dressed, smacked her bottom.

"Bacon." Jinx sniffed.

"Fall," Vic replied.

"Mmm." Jinx's feet hit the floor. "When did you get back in?"
"Uh, fourish."

"Must be good."

"Better than good. Rhapsody."

Jinx, now in the bathroom, toothbrush smeared with paste, said, "Rhapsody. I'll remember that."

Frank chattered at breakfast, a brief burst of happiness before retir
ing to his home office. Mignon scrutinized her sister as though seeing
her for the first time, but she yakked like her old self.

Lisa Baptista tore down the drive at eight o'clock, honking all
the way.

 

"Wow!" Mignon, who had been helping her mother spread fertil
izer, let go of the handle and didn't notice as the spreader rolled down
the undulating lawn.

Vic ran after it, catching it while her mother shouted how expensive fertilizer was.

Chris and Jinx were plucking apples off the two trees since that
was the task R. J. had assigned them.

"Mignon!" R. J. yelled.

Mignon, squealing with excitement as she stood with Lisa admir
ing her "new" ancient Volvo, called, "I'm sorry, Mom. I'll be there in a
minute." She clapped her hands at Lisa, unable to contain her enthusi
asm. "This is so cool. Ultimate cool. Beyond cool. Frigid. December!"

"Well, the test was easy except for parallel parking. I had to do it
twice—I was so nervous—but Mr. Trasker was real nice. Glad I got
him for my test and not Miss Pyle. She'd have flunked me. She flunks
everyone. I mean, like, she can't stand the thought of anyone getting their license on their birthday."

Jinx climbed down the ladder, walking over to her younger sister.
"Wheels."

"Daddy bought them for me. Can you stand it!" Lisa jumped up
and down as though on a pogo stick.

"Pretty cool." Jinx smiled. "You are so spoiled rotten, Lisa. I didn't
get a car on my sixteenth birthday."

Vic joined them, Chris coming up behind her. "Jinx, your dad's making more money now."

"I have to pay for my insurance and the gas. Daddy says I have to
learn the value of money." She pointed to her gold earrings. "He says I
won't have any left for stuff like this, but I don't care. Wheels!"

"I'll bet Mom is thrilled," Jinx commented dryly.

"Yeah, she doesn't have to drive me anymore. She really is thrilled.
But you'd better come home. Even for ten minutes. Just come say hi
and don't have a fight. Then she'll be happy. And, well, I can't help it if
Daddy didn't buy you a car. But come home. Really. It will shut Mom
up."

"Mother will never be happy with me." A note of sourness crept
into Jinx's voice.

 

"Just agree with her." Lisa, exasperated and with a tendency to dra
matize, threw up her hands. "Morn is great if you agree with her. Doesn't
matter if you really believe it or not. Lie."

"You'll make a wonderful politician," R. J. said as she joined them.
"Happy birthday."

"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Savedge. May I take Mignon for a ride?"

"Of course." R. J. smiled. "Mignon, you will finish your job when you return. Right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The two girls hopped in the sturdy faded-blue vehicle and backed
around. As Lisa nosed down the driveway, a car careened in front of
her. She drove off the crushed oyster shells and onto the grass.

Mignon, nonplussed, said, "Georgia might be right behind her, so be
ready to get off the road again. If I were you, I'd get the hell out of here."

Lisa stepped on it once back on the driveway, sending shell bits
scattering behind her.

Sissy slammed the door of her Plymouth, leaving the motor run
ning. "Where's Frank?" she yelled to R. J., who was walking back down
the lawn.

"In the house."

Vic trotted over and turned off Sissy's motor just as Georgia ap
peared in the driveway. Georgia had the presence of mind to turn off her motor.

Piper barked nonstop.

"Where is the slut?" Georgia's eyes bulged.

Chris, without thinking, shrank behind Vic.

"I beg your pardon?" Vic played for time.

"Sissy, my slut sister, and don't look surprised when I say that. Oh,
hello, Chris, hello, Jinx." She waved at R. J., who rubbed her temples
for a moment and then strode back up the lawn.

"Well, Miss Wallace, I'm sure you have your reasons." Vic kept an
even tone.

"Reasons. Here's a reason." She held out her two hands indicating
the length of a penis, in this case about seven inches. "I caught her.
Oh, yes, I did—and I will kill her. I don't care if I spend the rest of my
life in jail. It will be worth it!"

 

"Georgia, we couldn't have that." R. J.'s voice soothed, silky smooth.
"Now, could we, girls? We just couldn't get by without seeing you out
and about. Sissy's not worth killing."

This pleased Georgia, somewhat diverting her righteous anger.
"That's nice of you to say." She lowered her tone. "I know,
I
have always
known" —she dropped half an octave on "known"— "that Sissy has her
weaknesses. No self-control. The smoking. The eating. The drinking.
Adding fornicating to that list is not exactly a major surprise. Not that I
spoke of it." She held up her hand as if asking for silence. "A woman is en
titled to a little pleasure, but this really is, well, this is too much."

"Could I fetch you a drink?" Vic asked pleasantly.

"Oh, honey, the sun's not over the yardarm." Georgia shook her
head. "But I could recover myself with some fortified orange juice. Yes,
that would be most refreshing."

Vic understood that the word "fortify" meant load the goddamned
orange juice with vodka. Since Georgia didn't wish to be seen guzzling
a vodka martini at quarter past eight in the morning, she'd make do
with laced orange juice.

Vic hurried into the kitchen, grabbed the 0J, and told Chris to get
the vodka from the bar. Then she filled the glass half with vodka, half
with orange juice.

"You'll flatten her," Chris observed.

"Are you kidding? Mother's milk to Georgia. This will kick-start
her day." She kissed Chris on the lips, lightly, and then sailed out the back door, glass in hand, napkin underneath.

"Oh, thank you, dear." Georgia knocked the contents back in three
huge gulps.

"Another?" Vic smiled.

"Wouldn't hurt me to get my vitamin C, now, would it?"

Vic returned shortly with another, although Georgia sipped this
one, as R. J. maneuvered her into a seat, hoping that Frank had shut the
door to his small office just off the house in what used to be the old
summer kitchen. If they could humor Georgia, maybe they could
avoid another catastrophe. Something usually got broken, and R. J.
preferred it not be anything in her house.

 

The three young women stood in a semicircle around R. J. and
Georgia, who were seated on the lawn furniture.

"Would you like toast?"

"I'd like to turn that immature vulgarian into toast. I'd like to toss
her in a crocker sack in the James. Oh, R. J., you don't know what I put
up with and all these years keeping her—depredations from Daddy. It
would kill him—indeed, it would."

Jinx winked to Vic. Vic reached over, running her forefinger over the back of Chris's hand.

"I know how you protect Sissy. We all do." R. J. wondered how
long this was going to take.

Georgia rolled her eyes. "Started when she was in tenth grade. Kissing and cuddling. Oh, my—my little sister was popular. Indeed.
For all the wrong reasons, and it didn't take long for the kissing and cuddling to progress to more, uh, athletic forms of contact with the
opposite sex. My sister is fairly fascinated with the hydraulics of the
male member." Georgia closed her eyes, sipping for the strength to
continue. She pointed at the three women, using her glass. "Girls, I re
member what it was to be young. Someone comes along, someone like
your Charly, and you can't sit still. The entire world revolves around
him. I know. But with Sissy, the entire world revolves around whoever
is around. And I don't think Daddy has a clue."

"You've done a good job keeping such upsetting information from
Edward. He is not the most liberal of men." R. J. kept pumping her up.

"That's putting it mildly. Daddy puts women on a pedestal, and he
expects them to stay there. Oh, yes." Another sip. "Well, I knew by the
time I was at Mary Baldwin that Sissy was going to have a very differ
ent personal history than myself. Very different. Mmm-huh. And she
never got pregnant. Not once. Her ovaries must be tilted. I know her
mind is."

"Miss Wallace, are you sure I can't bring you something to eat? We have some biscuits left from breakfast. You know how good they are."
Vic watched the orange juice go down.

"Oh, if it will make you happy. And I'd like some more orange
juice, too. Vic, honey, you have the best orange juice."

 

As Chris and Vic disappeared to fill the order, Jinx put a stool un
der Georgia's feet. If Sissy did emerge before her sister was plotzed,
this might impede Georgia's lurching up to assault her. "There you are,
Miss Wallace."

"Thank you, Jinx, you have always been the most thoughtful child.
You know I was watching those two go into the kitchen—salt and
pepper, aren't they? One just as blond and the other jet-black hair.
Such beautiful girls. Oh, well, where was I? Oh, thank you." She
smiled broadly as Vic and Chris brought her biscuits, jam, butter on a
tray, and another glass of orange juice. Vic had taken the precaution of
also putting a cup of hot coffee on the tray. "She's been going down
there to Don and Bunny's car lot. That's all right" —she waved her
hand as though dismissing the visitation— "I go there, too, but she's
fallen in with that Hojo. Thirty years difference between them if
there's a day, but Sissy says they're 'girl pals.' Well, let me tell you,
Hojo is not going to be a Sunday-school teacher. No, ma'am. And she tells my sister, 'You only live once. Do it now.' You get the idea."

R. J. crossed her long, lean legs. "Georgia, dear, exactly what did
she do?"

"Hojo? I don't know what she's up to, and Sissy won't tell. Not that
I'm interested." She popped a biscuit slathered in butter and jam into
her mouth. "Marry young. That's my advice. What did Sissy do? I
caught her giving Buzz Schonfeld a—I can't put it delicately. She had her mouth on his instrument, and the only reason I found her was because I went down to Don's to see a new truck. Just pricing."

"She did this at Uncle Don's?" Vic's mouth fell open.

"Not out on the parking lot." Georgia's voice rose. "No, she was
back in the ladies' room, and Hojo was guarding it—trying not to be
obvious. I knew perfectly well my sister was in there doing something.
I thought burning one." She held up her hand. "Oh, yes—smokes
dope. Grows it, too. Pin money. So I pulled my way right by Hojo,
who grabbed my belt, and there she was. I was appalled!"

"Is it statutory rape if a woman engages in oral sex with a minor?"
Jinx wondered.

"I don't know, but it's certainly bad manners. But then the Schon-

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