Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 02 - Apple Pots and Funeral Plots (11 page)

Chapter 12

I bought a raffle ticket for the quilt and then sneezed passed the next booth: fresh cut long-stemmed red roses in beautiful glass vases and, of course, apple pots.
Roses always look so beautiful, but my allergies just won’t let me get anywhere near them.
I tell Tom that I save him a fortune by being allergic.

Edith spotted me and waved as I came up to her booth.
“Hey,
Liza
.
How’s it going?”

“Fine.
What’s the library doing at the festival?”

“Promoting reading.
I have several story-telling sessions in the library this week.
I’m hoping to get some of the kids to come in and listen to the stories.”

“That’s great.”

She pointed at
Shelby
.
“Is that your dog?”

“Yeah.
I pretty much take her everywhere I go when I’m on vacation.”

“That’s good.” She reached over and petted
Shelby
.
“It’s sad when people have animals and then they never take them anywhere.”

“That’s not me.”
I patted
Shelby
and remembered my earlier experience with the big hole. “She’s my protector.”

“Everyone needs one of those.”

“Danielle had her beagle, Sadie.”

Edith laughed.
“She wasn’t much of a protector.
But she could find a half eaten sandwich in the library stacks with no problem at all.”

“I’ve heard that beagles are good at that.”

“Yeah, I watched Sadie once for Danielle and she got into almost everything at my house.
She especially liked to rummage through my purse.
It seemed like no matter where I put it, she found it.
I think I must have had some old gum or something stuck in the bottom because she would dig through the entire purse, throwing everything out, until she came to the bottom.”

“Where did Danielle go that she couldn’t take Sadie?”

“I don’t know.
She said she wanted to go exploring around the town and didn’t want to be pulled this way and that by her beagle’s nose.”

“Did she say anything when she got back from wherever she had gone?”

“No, but she was excited.
When I asked her what she’d been up to, she just smiled and told me I’d know soon enough.”

“I wonder where she went.”

“I don’t know but wherever it was, it made her allergies go crazy.
She was sneezing and coughing when I talked to her.
And then she said that she
was going
back to her room to take some medicine.
She died the next day, so I never got a chance to ask her where she’d been.”

“I wish she’d kept notes or something.
That would sure help me figure out what she was doing here and maybe why she died.”

“Actually, I think she did.
She had a small red journal with a lacy front that she carried around.
When she talked to me about my mom and dad, she’d jot notes into it.”

“I wonder what happened to it.
”

“It was probably sent back with her other personal things.”

“Probably.”
I glanced down at her story telling list.
“How is your search for storytellers going?”

“Okay, but I’m looking for more readers.”
She held the list up.
“Are you interested?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great!”
She took out an appointment book.
“What about tomorrow around three?”

“I’ll be there.”
I pointed to her table and teased, “I don’t see any apple pots here.”

She let out a long sigh.
“Never.”
Then she glanced toward the other booths.
“I think we’ve got plenty around here, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah.
I’m amazed at the different varieties of the same pot.
Do they all come from the same place?”

“Most of them come from a small town in
Mexico
, but some of the more elaborate pots come from
South America
.”

“How do you tell one from the other?”

“Look on the bottom of the pot.
They are usually stamped with the country of origin.”

“That’s right.
The three I’ve got say, ‘Made in
Mexico
.’
And they’re very plain pots.”

“Those are the ones you get with your meals at any restaurant or street vendor in town.
If you want a colored pot or one inlaid with silver, gold or jewels, you have to come to the festival.”

“No thanks, I’ll stick with the plain ones.
You can make good apple cobbler in them and that’s the part I like best, anyway.”

“Me, too.”

“By the way, I looked at where your parents’ house used to be, today,” deciding not to mention visiting her family’s funeral plot.

“Just a big enormous hole, huh?”

I shook my head and blew out a large breath of air.
“Yes.”

“It’s amazing.
When they brought the bulldozer in, they picked up every scrap of wood and disposed of it.
They said they were afraid it would all catch fire again when it got dry.”

“How?”

“Something about the heat of the sun hitting the sawdust.”

“That doesn’t happen in a regular lumber yard, does it?”

“No, but the sawdust was treated with several chemicals to keep the bugs from eating it.
I guess they’re pretty flammable, too.”

“Do you still own the property?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to rebuild?”

“Someday, but for now it’s a constant reminder that I don’t really know how my parents were killed, and until I do, I’m leaving that big hole alone.”

“Oh.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks again, Liza.”

“You’re welcome.”
I wandered by the next several booths but wasn’t really interested in them: jewelry and apple pots, Italian charms and apple pots, and homemade soap and apple pots.
I was
already
tired of apple pots and I wasn’t anywhere near done looking at all the booths.
Shelby and I walked through the carnival and over to the food contest tables and food booths.
Many people were signing up for the contests.
I saw the no-neck, Latino and Asian men at most of the tables.
Kate and Ted were even in one of the lines.

I walked over to them.
“What are you guys going to be eating?”

“Oh, no.”
Kate shook her head.
“Not me.
But Ted signs
up for them all.”

“I came close last year at the cheese pizza contest.”

“You were beaten by a man who ate ten more pizzas than you.”
Sarah said, as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but I’ve been practicing at
the pizza parlor and I think I’ll
win this year.”

I patted him on the arm.
“Good attitude, Ted.”

Ted
got
to the head of the line, so Kate and I stepped back to let the other contestants fill out their paperwork.

“How’s your investigation into Danielle’s death going?”
Kate asked.

“I’ve learned a few things.”

“Like what?”

“She was very interested in Sally’s death.”

“The old librarian?”

It was nice that she didn’t refer to her as the crazy lady, like most of the people in the town.
“Yes.
What do you remember about her?”

“She was a great librarian.
She could do several different voices when she read a story.
It was so cool.”

“Do you remember her husband?”

“Mr. J was cool, too.
He used to take school classes through the mines.
They were so dark and creepy.
I’ve probably been through many of them several times.
Every time he’d offer a trip through the mines, I’d sign up.”
She pointed over to Ted who
spoke
to the man about signing up for the pizza-eating contest.
“Ted even went a few times.
But he didn’t like it.
I loved it!”

“Did you feel safe in the mines?”

“Of course.
I once saw Mr. J walk blindfolded from one end of the mine to the other, without ever touching a fallen timber or wall of the shaft.
He was genius when it came to those mines.”

“It’s sad that he was killed in one.”

“I don’t know how it could have happened.
It seemed impossible for him to make a mistake when it came to those mines.”

“Accidents can happen to anyone.”

“That’s true.
He used to tell us that one little mistake could cause a cave-in very easily, so we were always very careful about following him and doing exactly what he told us.”

Just then Ted came running over.
“Okay, I’m all signed up.
Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving, Ted.”

He shook his head at Kate.
“So are you!”

She laughed.
“That’s true.”
She turned back to me and said, “Do you want to get something to eat with us?”

“Sure, what are you having?”

“The food’s really good here at the festival, so Ted and I have a food plan.”

“I like a girl with a plan.”

“Okay, so today we have the chicken teriyaki on a sti
ck with white rice because Ted
will be
eating a million hotdogs later.”

“Is every day based on what Ted
will
stuff down later?”
I asked.

“Yep.”
Kate smiled broadly.
“Tomorrow we have one of the salads,
usually chicken, because Ted will
be eating BBQ ribs later and they’re really filling.”

“Wednesday,” Ted continued, “We eat hamburgers and then later on I’ll stuff down the fries.”

“And on Thursday?” I asked.

“We skip lunch because Ted wants to save his appetite for all those cheese pizzas.”
Kate leaned over and whispered in my ear.
“I get a Tri-tip sandwich when he goes off to rest and get ready for all those pizzas.”

“On Friday, we usually have lots and lots of ice cream, because those hot chili peppers are very spicy.”
Ted shook his head and shuddered.
“It’s not my favorite event.”

“That only leaves Saturday.
What do you eat to get ready for the apple pot contest?”
I asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”
Ted shook his head sadly.
“It’s the main event and I never even make the finals.
We can eat whatever we want on that day.”

I put my hand around Ted’s shoulder.
“You can’t be the best at them all, Ted.
Since today is Monday, let’s go get the chicken-on-the-stick and rice.”

His face lit up.
“Great idea,
Liza
.”

The three of us walked over to the Chinese booth and ordered our lunch.
Then we went over to a dining section where twelve round white plastic tables were set up.
Most of the tables had red and white striped umbrellas in case the weather got hot.
It had been pretty cool since I’d been in Clainsworth; so we chose a table in the sunshine and sat down.

Bill had told me a little about the eating contests, but I still didn’t quite understand how the entire process worked, so after a bite of the chicken, I asked.
“So Ted, tell me how the contests work.”

“I only know how we do them here,” Ted replied, between bites.
“Other places do them differently.
They don’t have preliminary eat-offs and the eating time is longer.”

“That’s okay, you’re an expert as far as I’m concerned.”

He beamed.
“Starting at
three o’clock
we have the preliminary eat-offs.
Each person has thirty seconds to eat as much food as possible.
The person who eats the most goes on to the next round.
It usually takes five or six rounds, until they’re down to the top five.
Then those five compete at seven in the evening.”

“How many minutes do you get during the finals?”
I asked.