Miss Dimple Rallies to the Cause (12 page)

The cheering grew even louder as the band from Westside, the Negro high school, pranced by, and everyone laughed when the flower-covered float from the First Baptist Church proclaiming
God is love
was immediately followed by one decorated by local students from the University of Georgia with a banner reading,
To hell with Tech!

The mayor, Miss Dimple thought, took longer than necessary to welcome those assembled and to remind the good people of Elderberry that neighboring towns of Covington, Griffin, and Eatonton were working not only to reach their quotas but also to exceed them. This created quite a stir among the members of the population, many of who could be seen muttering to one another about outselling the competition, which, of course, is exactly what the mayor had in mind. Also, he added, everyone who purchased a twenty-five-dollar bond or larger would be treated to a short film at the Jewel featuring actor Walter Pidgeon and a real-life “Rosie the Riveter.”

Miss Dimple attributed the minister’s brief prayer to the heat of the afternoon, and was grateful for it. After the color guard led everyone in the Pledge of Allegiance, Alma, accompanied by a trio from the reed section of the high school band, gave her rendition of “America the Beautiful.” Thanks to the three young musicians, the soloist stayed more or less on key, and the few times she strayed, they managed to drown her out.

Dimple found she had been clenching her fists for the duration of the song, but had actually flinched only once. It had been less than a year, she recalled, since President Roosevelt had the salute to the flag changed from holding the right hand out toward the banner to placing it over one’s heart because the former resembled the heinous tribute to Adolph Hitler.

Virginia spoke briefly, reminding everyone that some types of bonds would pay nearly three percent a year, were backed by the U.S. Treasury, and should be a welcome asset someday to help buy a home or pay for an education.

“I’m sure most of you know Buddy Oglesby, who will be assisting me at the booth just behind us on the courthouse lawn for those who would like to purchase bonds or stamps. There will be a bond booth as well in the lobby of the high school auditorium for anyone attending tonight’s performance of our own
Home Front Follies
and, believe me, you don’t want to miss that as I understand Delby O’Donnell will take your breath away in his—er—
her
wedding finery! My good friend, Miss Dimple Kilpatrick, will have tickets for that available after today’s ceremony at the table to the right of the platform.”

The fellow from the War Finance Committee who followed Virginia had now removed his tie and loosened the collar of his shirt. He thanked the town, bragged on the Scouts, the bands, and even the soloist, reminding everyone of the importance of supporting their country in this all-important effort to bring the war to a victorious end, and sat down, mopping his face with a monogrammed handkerchief.

Members of the Home Guard took charge of holding back the surging crowd, forming orderly lines for the many who wanted to invest in war bonds and stamps. In the hour that followed, the Elderberry Woman’s Club made thirty-five dollars selling lemonade at five cents a glass, and Miss Dimple Kilpatrick ran out of tickets for the
Home Front Follies
. Tonight they would play to a packed house.

*   *   *

Charlie’s stomach growled as she waited backstage for their skit to begin. She and Delia had rushed home after the parade to gulp down a bowl of canned soup and a few soda crackers before they were due at the auditorium. Their mother would follow after she fed Tommy and dressed him for bed before the sitter arrived for the evening. Delia had asked Odessa’s niece, Violet, to help them out and was relieved when she agreed. The teenaged girl was wonderful with children and therefore popular with many of the town’s young mothers.

“I’m glad we’re early on the program so we can relax and enjoy the rest of the show,” Delia whispered. “I don’t want to miss Uncle Ed giving the bride away.”

Millie McGregor, as Red Riding Hood, fanned herself with her cape. “It’s sweltering back here. Wish I’d thought to play a character who doesn’t wear so many clothes!”

“Better get ready. You’re on next,” Buddy Oglesby whispered behind them. He had been commandeered by his aunt to assisting backstage and looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

Charlie jumped at the sound and stifled a cry. “Good Lord, Buddy, you nearly scared me to death! I didn’t see you back there.”

Buddy made a face. “That’s because Aunt Emmaline made me wear black so the audience wouldn’t notice me. I’ve been burning up in this shirt all night, and during intermission I have to go back out to the lobby and give Virginia a hand with the bonds sales.”

Charlie noticed that Jesse Dean, who was helping with props, wore dark clothing as well. From the wings on the other side of the stage, Annie watched, smiling broadly, as the fifth- and sixth-grade girls under her instruction finished their song and dance to a roar of audience applause. “How are we supposed to follow
that
?” Millie muttered under her breath. Then the stage went dark, and they hurried to take their places.

After the excitement and energy that went into the parade and rally that afternoon, everyone seemed to be in a mood to relax and enjoy the show, and the audience responded with laughter to the fairy-tale skit and another that followed. Charlie and some of the others rushed to change backstage before joining the audience for the rest of the evening. The high school dancers seemed actually to enjoy their time onstage, and a quartet from the school chorus charmed everyone with several selections, including “Any Bonds Today?” a special song by Irving Berlin.

Spying Miss Dimple sitting with Virginia in the back of the auditorium, Charlie and Annie slipped into seats beside them. “Have you sold many tonight?” Annie asked Virginia, who held on her lap the satchel containing bonds and receipts from earlier sales.

She nodded. “Quite a few, and frankly I’ll be glad when all this is out of my hands. Thank goodness I was able to turn over to the bank the money we took in at the rally this afternoon.”

“Isn’t Buddy going to give you a hand during intermission?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, thank goodness! It’s going to take both of us to handle this crowd,” Virginia said. “Bobby Tinsley promised to send somebody over from the police department to give us a little security, but I haven’t seen a sign of him yet.”

“Perhaps we should call,” Miss Dimple suggested. “I can’t imagine what’s holding him up.”

“Where would we do that? Except for the gas station across the street, which is probably closed, the only telephone around is in the school office, and that’s locked,” Virginia said.

“I’ll see if I can find the principal,” Charlie offered. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, and I saw Velma sitting down front. Maybe she knows who has a key.”

“I think you should hurry,” Annie advised. “Buddy’s getting ready to award the prize for the best poster, and after that it’s intermission. Everyone who wants to buy bonds will start moving to the lobby.”

“Then I suppose I’d better be ready for them.” Clutching the satchel, Virginia rose to her feet.

“I’ll go with you,” Miss Dimple said, following her. “I can fill in until Buddy gets there.”

Charlie and Annie went in two directions: Annie to find Velma Anderson, who taught secretarial science at the high school, and Charlie to locate Elias Jackson, the principal.

Making her way through the crowd was like swimming upstream, but Charlie finally wove her way to a side aisle to get a better view and spied the principal in animated conversation with Phil Lewellyn, the pharmacist who had been partner to her father.

“Well, of course you can use the phone in the office,” the principal said when Charlie explained the situation. “I’ll certainly feel better myself with someone from law enforcement around. I don’t understand what could be keeping them.”

Charlie followed him down the familiar side hall and waited in the office while he made the call.

“Well, that explains that,” he told her, frowning as he hung up the phone. “Warren Nelson says the chief was called out a while ago when somebody reported a break-in over on the north end of town, and Warren’s the only one left on duty, so he can’t leave.”

Then I guess we’ll just have to deal with it on our own,
Charlie thought. She didn’t suggest requesting the help of Deputy Dobbins because she didn’t think anyone would take him too seriously in his lilac ruffled gown.

*   *   *

The houselights were blinking when Charlie hurried back to her seat after spending most of the intermission dodging Linda Ann Orr’s mother, who just couldn’t understand why her daughter hadn’t won first prize in the poster contest. Annie, already seated next to Miss Dimple, admitted that she had taken refuge backstage for the same reason. “Oh, well,” she said, “according to my friend the Bard, ‘asses are made to bear…’”

Virginia collapsed into her seat as the lights went down and let out an audible sigh. “Thank goodness that’s behind me! Never again!”

“Did you make your quota?” Annie asked.

Virginia beamed at the idea of outselling the neighboring competition. “That and more—much more! Chief Tinsley finally got here—thank goodness—said it must’ve been a false alarm, and Buddy’s turning the money over to him. He’ll keep it in the safe over at the jail until the bank opens Monday.”

Somewhere behind the footlights, Sebastian began playing a jazzed-up version of “I Love You Truly” and, from the back of the auditorium, a tuxedo-clad “groomsman” ushered a weeping Bo Albright, in flowered hat and garish gown, to a seat in the front row; the soloist warbled “At Last” while the “minister” in an ancient frock-coat stopped up his ears in mock—or not-so-mock—horror. The wedding had begun.

The bridesmaids jogged, loped, and plodded down the aisle in a most undignified fashion while scratching themselves and tripping over the hems of their gowns. Two, who seemed to be in a race to finish first, even pummeled one another with their bouquets.

It would have been difficult to tell whether the audience laughed more when one of the grapefruit in Coach McGregor’s brassiere bounced onto the stage and rolled away, or when the “pregnant” bride waddled down the aisle with a huge pillow under his/her dress. In fact, after the show ended, everyone was still laughing so hard it took most of them a minute or so to react to the gunshot backstage.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

Ed Willingham tossed aside the tight cummerbund, loosened his tie, and fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief. Those stage lights were hot as blazes and his old tuxedo was a size too small. At least he didn’t have to wear a long dress or one of those ridiculous wigs like some of the other men. He had to admit he had fun as the shotgun-totin’ father of the bride, but Ed was glad it was over. He’d rather stand on his feet all day long poking about in somebody’s mouth than be under those stage lights in that dad-blasted tuxedo for another five minutes!

After bows, the “wedding party” (minus the bride’s pregnant padding, at Emmaline’s insistence) had assembled onstage for Bo Albright’s assistant to take pictures for next week’s
Eagle,
and Ed had made his way backstage as quickly as possible. The first one to reach the small dressing room, he hurried to shed his jacket and stiff, confining shirt and was buttoning a comfortable one he’d brought from home when everything suddenly went dark.

Stumbling into the hallway, he crashed into someone with an enormous pillowlike bosom trailing what seemed like an acre of lace.

Delby O’Donnell swore under his breath “Will you get off my foot? I can’t see a damn thing back here and if I don’t get outa this outfit, I’m gonna pass out from a heatstroke!”

“Sorry.” Ed backed away and stepped on somebody else. “Who’s messing with the lights back here?” he shouted, and had started to return to the dressing room to avoid further confusion when the deafening sound of gunfire stopped him in his tracks. Ed froze, crushed against the wall by Delby’s lace-shrouded bulk, as from the opposite side of the stage, someone shouted out in pain.

*   *   *

From her seat in the back of the auditorium, Charlie was horrified to see many in the audience flood the aisles in a rush to get to the door. Others, like her, were apparently too stunned to react right away. When the houselights came up she saw her mother and aunt Louise with determined looks on their faces bulldozing their way to one of the side doors that led to the backstage area.

“My uncle Ed’s back there!” Charlie yelled, jumping to her feet, but Miss Dimple put a hand on her arm.

“Wait! You’ll get crushed in all this crowd, and that won’t do your uncle or anyone else any good. I expect someone was playing with one of the props back there.”

What Miss Dimple said made sense, and Charlie restrained herself until she realized her uncle hadn’t brought along any ammunition for the BB gun he’d borrowed from Reynolds Murphy, and she couldn’t imagine why anyone else would need a firearm for the follies. When a cry went up from the backstage area, Charlie climbed over the seat in front of her and threaded her way down a side aisle with Annie close behind her.

“What happened? What happened? Is anyone hurt?” she asked several people as they clamored to find out what had taken place.

“I heard somebody’s been shot!” It was obvious that Oscar “Froggie” Faulkenberry was attempting to control the tremble in his voice. He held a picture hat of purple lace with a bedraggled pink flower drooping from its brim like a shield in front of him. “I was just coming offstage when it happened and have no idea what’s going on—but I intend to find out.”

“Is Doc Morrison still here?” somebody asked, and Charlie had to look twice to recognize her sister, who had changed from her Sleeping Beauty costume but still wore pink circles of makeup on her cheeks.

Elias Jackson, the high school principal, grabbed the mike and asked for order. “There has been an accident, but it’s nothing to be alarmed about,” he announced. “Please proceed calmly to an exit. If there’s a doctor in the audience, you’re needed backstage immediately.”