Play It Again, Spam (18 page)

Both brothers, Yoder. And as we all know, you're the only one in Hernia with aredBMW."

"Which proves nothing. I was offering the woman a ride to church."

"Ha! She has her own car, Yoder."

"That she does. But a few of us are trying to see to it that she drives it as little as possible. The woman drives like a blind

teenager on steroids. She's clipped more mailboxes than Freni's clipped coupons."

Melvin smirked. "Yeah, she helps me meet my ticket quota."

"Melvin, why do you do this to me? Why do you constantly accuse me of things you know I haven't done? Of things that

haven't even been done?"

Melvin's mandibles moved silently for a full minute before the first sound escaped his lipless mouth. "Because you always

have an answer."

"I do?"

"I'm only going to say this once, Yoder, but you're kind of smart."

"What did you just say?" I longed to sit, but the nearest chair was behind the check-in counter, and legs weren't going to carry

me that far.

For just an instant both of Melvin's eyes met mine. "You're like the big sister I never had."

"Expound, dear." The brother I never had would have been nothing like Melvin.

"You always have the answers, Yoder. It's like you think, or something. Anyway, I just know I can always come to you for

help."

"Is that what you call it? Accusing me of murdering a centenarian ?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Yoder. I didn't say anything about a Roman soldier."

"Let me get this straight, dear. Your asinine accusations are merely your way of asking me for help?"

"This man has his pride, Yoder."

"If only this woman had a can of Raid, Melvin, you're pathetic, you know that?"

He actually hung his monstrous head in shame. For the first time ever I felt sorry for him, not just sorry that I knew him.

"Yoder, you'll help me, won't you?"

Okay, as a Christian woman it is behooving to me to be totally honest, so I will confess that for a mere nanosecond I had the

impulse to clasp his carapace to my scrawny bosom and give him the love Elvina obviously had not. Thank the Good Lord the

impulse passed so quickly.

"Yeah, I'll help you."

"You will?" Both eyes rotated upwards in their sockets and I knew he could see my face even though his nose was pointed

directly at the floor.

"But you have to agree to let me be in charge."

"Agreed."

"I mean totally in charge."

"Uh - okay."

"Great. Now go home, Melvin, and get ready for tonight's party, not to mention your wedding."

The huge head lifted slowly. "I can't do that. I mean, someone needs to keep an official eye on things."

"Then our deal is off-you're on your own. Swivel those orbs any direction you want, just not on me."

"Okay, Yoder, I'm going." He took a single step backward.

"Then be gone!"

"You drive a hard bargain, Yoder." Two more steps and he was almost to the door.

"Look, Melvin, we don't know what happened to Old Irma. Maybe she cut her thumb making breakfast, or maybe that's blood

from a piece of meat. At any rate, I have a search party organized and - "

"You do? Wow, Yoder, I have to hand it to you. You're really on the ball."

"Thanks, dear." There was no need to tell my numbskull nemesis that a guest of mine was missing as well, was there? After

all, omitting information is not a sin. Just pick your Bible if you don't believe me. There is plenty missing from that book.

I could tell by the way his arms were twitching that Melvin was coming dangerously close to hugging me. Since I would

sooner dance naked in downtown Hernia, I gave him a helpful push and slammed the door behind him.

The next thing I did was dial Lodema. Thankfully, she .I answered on the first ring.

"Reverend, is that you? It better be, because I have an emergency on my hands. I probably don't need to tell you that it

involves that old spinster, Magdalena. Big Magdalena, that is."

Of all things! Who would have guessed that the pastor's wife addressed him by his title in the privacy of their I own home? My

shock rendered me temporarily speechless. For the first time in months I could hear my heart pound.

"Reverend, are those bongos I hear in the background? Look, Reverend, you better not be up in Pittsburgh at your mama's

house. I've told you a million times I won't stand for a mama's boy."

I kindly hung up and dialed again. "This is Magdalena," I said before Lodema had a chance to blink, much less speak. "I need

your help."

"What? Magdalena, did you just call?"

"Don't be silly, Lodema. Did you get in touch with your husband?"

"Yes and no."

"I don't have time for riddles, dear. Pick an answer - just make sure it's the right one."

"Well, he's not at the motel where he said he'd be staying, but I think he rang just a minute ago. Your call must have

disconnected us."

"Think again, dear. We're part of the Bedford calling area now, and it's all computerized. Did you check with Esther

Gingerich?"

"Hugh didn't go fishing," Lodema said in a tiny little-girl voice. "He has the flu."

"Oh. Well, that's too bad, I'm sure." Now that was a lie. But an understandable lie, of course. You see, after my bogus

marriage to the bigamist Aaron became public knowledge, Hugh had been one of my most vocal detractors. If Hugh had had his

way, I'd still be picking feathers out of my teeth and scrubbing tar from between my toes.

"Is that all you wanted, Magdalena? To nag me about getting the reverend home in time for your sister's wedding? Well, I'm

doing my best. It's not my fault he gave me the wrong motel phone number."

"Of course not, dear. And I didn't call just to nag. You are a multifaceted woman, after all. I thought we might explore another

facet of you."

"Now who's speaking in riddles? Get off the phone, Magdalena. The reverend might be trying to call."

"Okay, but I need to ask you a quick question."

"You can buy formula number twelve at Sam Yoder's Comer Market. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"This has nothing to do with hair dye, dear. It's about Irma Yoder. Old Irma."

"What about her?"

"How well do you know her?"

Lodema's sigh rustled the thin blond hairs on my arm. "The woman has a tongue that could slice Swiss. You don't want to get

on her bad side. I can tell you that."

"Does she have any enemies?"

"Do you?"

"Touche, dear. But I mean real enemies, somebody who might want to do away with her-never mind, I get your point. Just tell

me this, did Old Irma have any plans for today? Anybody expected to drop by - maybe pick her up and take her shopping

someplace? Or to the doctor?"

"How should I know? I'm not her social secretary."

"Indeed, you're not, but you are her pastor's wife. You might have overheard some conversation that might give a clue as to

her whereabouts."

"Well, I didn't. Why the sudden interest in Old Irma?"

"It isn't sudden, dear. You know good and well I sometimes pick her up for church."

"Magdalena Portulacca Yoder, you should be ashamed of yourself."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're not dealing with an amateur, here, Magdalena. I know you want information on Old Irma, but I can't be of any help

unless you get to the point."

"Okay! Old Irma is missing, and so is one of my guests, and there's blood on the sink and the water was running, and since

you're the nosiest woman in the county, I thought if anyone would know anything, it would be you."

I would not have been surprised if Lodema had chosen that moment to shatter my eardrum. Instead she was remarkably

cooperative, which made me highly suspicious. Perhaps the reverend hadn't gone fishing after all, but merely around the bend.

Perhaps he had a gun pointed at his wife's dyed head and was forcing her to be nice for a change.

"Old Irma is not who you think she is, Magdalena," Lodema said without a trace of sarcasm.

"Give me a break, dear. I don't believe for one second that tired old rumor that Old Irma Yoder is really Milton Berle."

"Well, you must admit that was rather creative of me. Remember those old TV shows with Uncle Miltie?"

"I don't watch television, dear, and as the pastor's wife, neither should you."

"The reverend says that nature shows are a testimonial to the Creator."

"Can we please get back to Old Irma?" I wailed.

"Ah, yes, the mystery woman. Well, for starters, she's not one hundred and two."

Yes, she is - "

"She's one hundred and three. I checked her baptismal record. It's on file in the church office."

"Well, the nerve of the woman!"

"Exactly. But oh, Magdalena, there's much more. And I mean really juicy stuff."

"How juicy?"

"This will knock your socks off, as the young people say."

Always a cooperative soul, I slipped off my shoes. "Sock it to me, babe."

15

Hearty SPAM® Breakfast Skillet

2 cups frozen diced or shredded potatoes

½ cup chopped onion

¼ medium green bell pepper, cut into 1-inch thin strips

¼ medium red or yellow pepper, cut into 1-inch thin strips

2 teaspoons oil

1 (12-ounce) can SPAM® Luncheon Meat, cut into julienne strips

1 (8-ounce) carton frozen fat-free egg product, thawed, or 4 eggs

¼ teaspoon dried basil

¼ teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon pepper

6 drops hot pepper sauce

¼ cup shredded Cheddar cheese

In large nonstick skillet, cook potatoes, onion, and peppers in oil over medium-high heat 5

minutes, stirring constantly. Add SPAM®; cook and stir 5 minutes. In small bowl, combine egg

product, basil, salt, pepper, and hot pepper sauce; blend well. Pour over mixture in skillet.

Cover. Cook over medium-low heat 8 to 12 minutes or until set. Sprinkle with cheese; remove

from heat. Serves 6.

NUTRITIONAL INFORMATION PER SERVING: Calories 294; Protein 17 g; Carbohydrate 17 g; Fat

18g; Cholestero150mg; Sodium 725mg.

16

Is it a sin to salivate at the mere promise of juicy gossip? If so, call me the Whore of Babylon. You may even call me Lucifer, if you

must, because I was drooling like a three-month-old baby with a tooth coming in.

I have tried to be a good Christian neighbor to Old Irma, the Good Lord knows I have. But the woman is impossible to like.

Even Papa, who had the soul of a saint, prayed daily for charitable feelings toward the old crone.

There is no way getting around it; Irma Yoder is mean. True, it was Lodema Schrock who spread the word about the breakup

of my pseudo- marriage with Aaron, and who tried to drum me out of the Mennonite Women's Sewing Circle, but it was Irma who

stood in the doorway of Beechy Grove Mennonite Church and whacked me with her cane.

"You sitting down, Magdalena?" Lodema asked.

"Yes, and I'm bracing myself against the check-in counter. Let me have it."

"Well, you're never going to believe this, and I promised the reverend that I would never repeat confidences he shares with

me, but this one I overheard by accident, so strictly speaking, I'm not obligated to keep it to myself, am I?"

"Spit it out, dear!"

"Okay, hold your horses. I just want to do the right thing." Lodema sounded dangerously hesitant. "I mean, this is the right

thing, isn't it?"

I refrained from telling Lodema to have her tongue surgically removed. "The right thing is to find the old gal and make sure

nothing has happened to her. Who knows what information might be useful?"

"That's what I thought. So, here goes. Old Irma, when she was not so old, was once a cabaret singer in Paris."

"Get out of town!"

"I beg your pardon? You said you wanted to hear everything."

I am constantly reminded that, thanks to a worldly clientele, I am far hipper than your average Hernian. "That's just an