Pink Flamingoed (2 page)

“I’d like her. I like readers,” Brad remarked.

“So, you’re a bookworm, are you?”

“Among other things,” Brad answered.

“Continuing with the family tree, Kenny’s next. He
just turned ten. He’s red-headed and freckled-face, and not only does he look
like Huckleberry Finn, he’s as much of a rascal, too. Anytime he can cause
problems for one of his sisters, he will.”

“So, he has red hair like you?”

“No, he’s a carrot top. Mine’s more auburn. Besides, I
don’t have freckles.”

“And what about the baby of the family?”

“Don’t let Mallory hear you call her a baby. She’s
five, but acts older. Her eyes are hazel. She has dark brown curls, and is as
cute as she can be. You’ll love her.”

The row of stately red bricks ended as Brad looked at
the large white frame church, which was now beside them. It was not a large
church, but Brad gathered that there was a fellowship hall in addition to the
sanctuary, and low windows told Brad there was also a basement. The good
condition of the church told Brad the people were proud of their church, and
there was enough money to maintain it.

“The Church on Aylesford Place,” Brad read. “Wonder
how long it took someone to come up with such a creative name?”

“I couldn’t venture a guess,” Amy answered. “That was
well before my time.”

“Before your time on this street, or your time on this
earth?”

“Both,” Amy answered. “Now, be quiet so I can keep up
with this giddy-up crowd. It’s hard to be a tour guide with this group.”

Brad noticed that the church was the last structure on
the left side of the street. He looked past the church and noticed a sign that
read: “Exit from Aylesford Park.”

Brad looked down a driveway that was protected on both
sides by a row of trees. He could not tell what lay beyond the trees. “What’s Aylesford Park?”

“Aylesford Park is our own private park. It has picnic
tables and playground equipment. There’s lots of room and loads of trees, and
it’s where you’ll have your singing debut.”

“My singing debut?”

“Yeah, it’s where we have our Fourth of July picnic.”

“But I thought tonight was my singing debut.”

“I meant your turn as a soloist. That is unless you
want to be a soloist tonight. I can check with the others if you like. Maybe
you’d like to do
The Little Drummer Boy
for us.”

Brad quit listening to Amy when he noticed the house
at the end of the street. It stood in front of the park. At least, Brad thought
it was a house. Unlike any other house on the street, this one had a high stone
wall all the way around it, and an iron-gated entryway. A huge stone mansion
hovered high above the street looking as if it could swoop down on trespassers
at a moment’s notice.

Even under the darkness of night with the snow beating
down upon them, all the other houses looked inviting. This one appeared as if
no one would lighten its doorstep unless forced.

“What’s this place?”

“This place, Mr. Holmes, is what is known as Warfield Place.”

“Which war was it in?”

From what little Brad could see of the house in the
darkness, it looked ominous, as if the ghosts of Aylesford Place dwelt within.
Brad expected a black cat to mount the wall at any moment. He must have
conveyed his feelings to the rest of the group, because they hurried across the
street.

“Aren’t we stopping here?” Brad asked. He had no
desire to dawdle, but he was curious why the group did not plan to sing at this
“house.”

“Not on your life,” Cora replied.

“You can say that again!” Harry added emphatically.

“Doesn’t anyone live here?” Brad asked.

“Depends on what you mean by
anyone,
” Harry
answered.

“What does he mean by that, Amy?” Brad asked, not
wanting to be the only one not in on the secret.

“Most people around here refer to the house’s occupant
as Witch Peabody, the Wicked Witch of the West.”

“Does that mean she has a black cat and a cauldron?”

“We’re not sure about that,” Amy answered, “but rumors
are rampant that she carries a gun and shoots at everyone on sight. When Pastor
Scott moved here, he decided to visit everyone on the street. Just as he
touched the iron gate and was about to open it, something whistled past his
ear. When we found out about it and kidded him that the Apostle Paul was not
afraid, Scott replied with, ‘Yeah, but Paul didn’t have a wife and three
children.’”

“Don’t forget to tell him about those Mormons,” Harry
interjected.

“Oh, yeah,” Amy said. “There were a couple of Mormon
boys who came down our street one time. All of us stood out on our porches to
see what would happen when they got to the witch’s house.”

“Yeah,” Cora said. “I’ve never seen two boys run so
fast. Their shirts had paint on them front and back. I guess they must’ve
caught her painting and she threw a bucket of paint at them. In any case, we
haven’t seen a Mormon since then.”

Brad smiled as he tried to picture those Mormon boys
on their escape mission.

“Whew, we made it across the street,” Harry said,
still looking a little scared of being so close to the witch’s broom closet.

“We probably shouldn’t be so hard on the old woman,”
Amy said. “Word is that she married once. Her husband died shortly after they
married. She never remarried.”

“How did he die?” Brad asked. “Stab wounds or bullet
holes?”

Harry laughed uncontrollably.

“I believe the autopsy report said they found him in
the secret passageway outside the conservatory and they think he’d been bludgeoned
with a lead pipe.” Harry answered, as soon as he had regained his composure.

“And I would have guessed it to have been a
candlestick,” Brad replied. “Was it Miss Peacock, by any chance?”

“Peabody,” Harry corrected.

“Ah, yes. Dear old Witch Peabody, the heir to the
war-torn estate. I believe I see her at the window. Doesn’t she look stunning
in black?”

Harry hid behind Brad, unaware that Brad had seen no
one at the window, but then the occupant of that house could see without being
seen.

Amy smiled when she thought of how quickly Brad had
become a part of the neighborhood. Not wanting to lose control of the
proceedings, she resumed her role of tour guide.

“So, there you have the left side of Aylesford. Any
questions, Mr. Holmes?”

“Well, I did have one, Dr. Watson. Why do all of the
houses have a ramp leading up to the front porch?”

“Not all of the houses. Witch Peabody’s house doesn’t
have a ramp. Anyway, the ramps are to show our sense of community. They are for
Allison Davenport, who lives up the street on this side,” Amy said, as she
motioned to a house not yet visited.

“I assume that means that you have an elderly lady
who’s confined to a wheelchair?”

“Allison gets around in a wheelchair, but she’s not
elderly, and I don’t think anyone would think of Allison as confined. Allison
has two wheelchairs, a manual one and a motorized chair, and she can navigate
either of them quite well.”

“What happened? Some kind of accident?”

“Allison fell off a horse when she was away at
college, and while it paralyzed her from the waist down, it didn’t take away
her spirit.”

“Well, that’s good, at least. So how does she navigate
the stairs?”

“One reason Allison bought the house was that it
already had an elevator in it. A previous owner had it installed because of her
arthritic knees. Now, we’d better go on, so we can catch up with the others.
Brad looked up and noticed that the others had gotten over their fright and
were standing on the other side of the street.

Brad paid attention to his new neighbor and the houses
she described as they walked down his side of the street, and a quick glance up
the other side of the street told him the opposite side of the street looked
similar. Only the house in front of the park did not fit in with the rest of
the street.

“The first house on this side of the street is vacant.
So, we’ll begin with Melanie Daniels’s house, but then I assume you already
know Melanie.”

“How would I know her? I just moved here.”

“You mean Melanie didn’t sell you your house? I didn’t
know any other real estate agent was allowed on Aylesford Place.”

“That’s because I didn’t buy my house from a real
estate agent. My grandparents owned it and left it to me.”

“You don’t mean the Pattersons?”

“You knew them?” Brad asked excitedly.

“I met them briefly right after I moved here. I knew
that your grandfather died, and I had heard that they had to put your
grandmother in a nursing home.”

“Yeah, that really hurt us, and now she’s gone, too. I
had no idea that my grandparents had decided to leave me their house,” Brad
said, as he felt a lump forming in his throat.

“So, if your grandparents owned the house, how come
you don’t know any of the neighbors? Didn’t you ever visit your grandparents?”

“Summer was my dad’s busy time, so we never came to
see my grandparents when we were out of school. They usually came to see us
between Christmas and New Year’s. Before this week, I’d only been to the house
once. When I was very young, I came to visit my grandparents for a week. That’s
probably why they left me their house. See, when I visited them, I kept raving
about how much I loved their big, old house. So, how did you come about
acquiring your abode, dear lady?”

“I did it the newfangled way. I bought it.”

“What a novel idea. However did you think of that?”

Amy smiled and shook her head.

As the snowflakes continued to pelt his body, Brad
could not help but think how lucky he was. Not only did he have grandparents
who had left him their house, but grandparents who had left him nice neighbors.
Brad continued to reflect until a comment from Cora jarred him back to where he
was.

“Watch out for Melanie, Brad. She thinks any man is
fair game. No man is safe around her. Just wanted to warn you.”

“She’s never come after me,” Harry remarked.

“I said a
man
, Harry.”

Brad wondered how long it would take before Harry
would learn to keep silent around Cora. Harry would never win a war of words
with her. Brad already knew that much.

“We think it’s funny that Melanie sells houses, yet
the house next door to her has remained empty for quite some time. Word is that
Melanie has made up her mind that she won’t sell the house to anyone except a
single man. Since she’s a one-woman real estate agency and has enough money to
live on, she can do whatever she wants.”

Cora stopped talking when the group got within earshot
of Melanie’s door. Cora climbed the steps, walked over and rang Melanie’s
doorbell. When a vivacious blonde in skin-tight ski pants  and  an  equally 
tight-fitting  sweater  opened  the  door, Brad surmised that Cora had aptly
described the young woman behind the door. The group sang three carols and
Melanie joined them as everyone strolled to the next house.

“Whoa! And who are you, handsome?” Melanie cooed, as
she spotted the new man in the crowd. “I think I could learn to like you,”
Melanie continued, as she walked over and put her two arms around Brad’s left
arm. There was enough light that Melanie noticed Brad’s cornflower blue eyes.
She wondered if it was a crime for a man to have such beautiful eyes.

“Down, tiger,” Cora said, before Brad had a chance to
reply. “Don’t go twisting your drawers in a knot.”

Not knowing where the scenario would go and wanting to
keep peace, Brad answered.

“I’m Brad. I just moved in down the street.”

“How did you get into the neighborhood without me
noticing you?” Melanie purred.

“His grandparents owned the house, and his wife and
four kids will be joining him next week,” Cora lied, as she tried to repel
Brad’s assailant.

“Well, if you need a cup of sugar or something, you
know where I live,” Melanie flirted, as she twirled around.

“Here, Melanie. This will cool you off,” Cora said, as
she picked up a handful of snow and stuffed it down Melanie’s coat.

The rest of the group laughed at Cora’s move. Melanie
did not seem to mind it, either. She kept her eyes on the tall, blond newcomer.

“Hey, Melanie! How come Bertha Callahan’s got a man
and you haven’t?” Harry asked.

“Why, Harry, I’m just waiting for you to leave Ethel
and come calling on little ole me,” Melanie purred.

“Oh, brother!” Cora exclaimed.

“Who’s Bertha Callahan?” Brad asked Amy.

“Coming up next, we have the home of Bertha Callahan,
the sweetheart of that daredevil, Barney Flowers. And you’d better sing loud.
Old Bertha doesn’t hear like she used to.”

“Hey, Harry, do you realize that you’re going to miss
Wheel
Of Fortune
and
Jeopardy?”
Melanie asked.

“Oh, Harry bought me a VCR,” Ethel interjected.

“Harry who?” Cora asked.

“Why my Harry, of course.”

“You mean Harry
paid money
for a VCR?”

“Harry always keeps his promises. Several years ago
Harry and I were shopping, and I told Harry we should get a VCR. Harry told me that $500 was too much for one of those contraptions, but if they ever came
down to $50, he’d buy me one. Well, they finally came down to $50, and I
reminded Harry of his promise.”

“That sounds like Harry. Just when everyone else is
buying a DVD player, old Harry finally springs for a VCR.”

“Hey, these things are nice. I can tape
Wheel
and
Jeopardy
and Vanna is there waiting for me when I get home, even if I
decide to wait until tomorrow to watch it.”

“We know, Harry. The rest of us have had VCRs for
years.”

Amy turned to fill in Brad on Harry’s interests.

“Harry and Ethel don’t watch much TV, but they always
watch
The Price Is Right
every morning, and every night they watch
Wheel
of Fortune
and
Jeopardy.”

“I must go over there sometime. I’ve never seen any of
those shows in black-and-white,” Brad replied.

Amy doubled over in laughter and slapped her knees.

Cora noticed Amy, shed a tear, and stopped to say a
prayer.

“Oh, God, please let Brad be the one for Amy.”

When Amy regained her composure, she replied to Brad’s
comment.

“I don’t how what compelled him to do so, but at some
point Harry splurged and bought Ethel a color TV. He still has an old push
mower, however. You know, the kind without a motor.”

This time it was Brad’s turn to laugh, only not as
vociferously as Amy did.

Amy noticed that they had arrived at Bertha’s house
and poked Brad to get his attention.

“Okay, good and loud, everybody,” Cora said as she
rang Bertha’s doorbell.

The growing group sang three songs before Bertha
realized they were there. When Bertha opened the front door, Cora hollered,
“Come on, Bertha! Get your coat! We’ll be at Barney’s house soon!”

“You say Barney’s with you. Where is he? I don’t see
him. Yoo-hoo! Oh, Barney. Where are you, my Sweet Pea?”

“Barney’s not with us! We’re going to his house in a
minute! Get your coat!” Cora hollered in Bertha’s ear.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Just a minute! I’ve got
it right here. I thought tonight was the night.”

As the group descended on Allison Davenport’s house
next door to Bertha, Bertha yanked on Cora’s coat sleeve and said, “This isn’t
Barney’s house. His house is the next one.”

“I know, Bertha dear, but we have to stop for Allison
first.”

As the group ascended the stairs to the porch, Allison
threw open the front door and wheeled herself onto the front porch. She was
bundled up and ready to go.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” Allison ordered. “Give me your
best Rudolph.”

Allison whipped the troupe into shape, listened to
their customary three songs, and then raced down the ramp and was the first to
arrive at the sidewalk in front of her house.

“See, I told you,” Amy said, as she elbowed Brad.

“Hey, does that thing have snow tires?” Amy asked, as
she caught up with her friend.

“No, just studs. They’re great for getting out in the
weather, but they sure tear up my carpeting,” Allison said, as she and Amy
enjoyed a good laugh.

“Hey, I don’t think I know you,” Allison said,
reaching her hand up to Brad.

“Hi, I’m Brad. I just moved in across the street.”

“So, someone is now living in the old Patterson
place.”

“Yeah, the Pattersons were his grandparents,” Amy
said.

“And his wife and four kids will be joining him next
week,” Melanie chimed in, while everyone else did their best not to give away
Brad’s secret.

As soon as Amy could get Allison aside, Amy let her
know that Brad’s fictitious wife and four kids were strictly to keep Melanie at
bay. Allison easily understood.

Amy returned to Brad in order to do her proper job of
tour guide and fill him in about Barney.

“Hey, why can’t I be the one to tell Brad about the
neighbors?” Melanie asked. “After all,
I am
the real estate agent. Who
should know more about this street than I do?”

“I picked Amy, because she knows the women on the
street as well as the men, and she doesn’t have to rub noses or cheeks with
Brad when she talks,” Cora replied.

Amy did her best to tune out Melanie, as she told Brad
about Barney.

“Barney is a sweet old man, although I can’t say much
for his wardrobe. Barney always wears a hat and a loud shirt, which is usually
a short-sleeved flowery one in the summer, and, summer or winter, Barney always
wears red socks, which, I might add, match his candy apple red 1949 Buick
convertible quite nicely. Barney and Bertha are an item. Neither of them has 
ever  married,  and  those  of  us  on the street wish Barney would hurry  up  
and  pop  the  question.  It’s   really funny to watch Barney back that red
Buick out of his driveway and drive two doors to Bertha’s and pull into her
driveway.”

“That gives me something to look forward to,” Brad
replied.

The group rang Barney’s doorbell. A few seconds later,
Barney threw open the door.

“Is Bertha with you?” Barney asked.

“Here I am, Sweet Pea,” Bertha replied.

“And here I am, my Lotus Blossom,” Barney returned.

“That’s strange. She could hardly hear me when I was
hollering in her ear, but just let Barney pop on the scene and her hearing
improves dramatically,” Cora said to no one in particular.

“Does anyone know if Doc Ramsey’s at home?” Barney
asked.

“I don’t know. Let’s just go over there and ring the
doorbell,” Cora replied.

Brad turned to Amy. She already knew the question
before he asked. “Doc Ramsey lives next door. He is past seventy and still
practices medicine. Not only does he practice medicine, but he goes to work six
days a week and even makes house calls.”

“I’ll be sure to make friends with him. Never know
when I might slip on the ice and need a doctor.”

“Or a nurse,” Melanie butted in.

“I thought you were a real estate agent,” Brad
replied.

“I am, but if you’re the patient, I can be a nurse,
too.”

As Cora managed to pull Melanie’s claws away from
Brad, Doc Ramsey’s car turned down the street. He pulled into his driveway just
before the group reached his house.

“Hi, everyone. Is this the Christmas caroling night?”

“It sure is, Doc. Come and join us.”

“Don’t mind if I do. Will there be something to eat? I
haven’t eaten yet.”

“There sure is,” Harry replied, “and the best thing is
it’s free.”

“Next year, we’ll have it at your house, Harry, and
you’ll have to pay for it,” Cora said.

“We won’t be able to do it at my house. My kitchen’s
too small,” Harry replied.

“Your kitchen is the same size as mine, Harry,” Cora
responded.

“Yeah, but Ethel’s getting up in age and it’s hard for
her to fix for people anymore.”

“Does that mean that you’re going to start taking
Ethel out to eat, Harry?”

“No, she’s still okay fixing for two. It’s those
bigger numbers she can’t handle.”

“That’s okay, Harry. I’ll be glad to have it at my
house next year. Just make sure you buy all the food and drop it off.”