Play It Again, Spam (9 page)

"Maybe, but this is the only road from my place to here. We didn't pass a blue Saturn, did we?"

She sighed. "No. I'm just worried, that's all. Like I said before, this isn't like him."

"People change."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, uh - take me, for instance. I used to be really opinionated and headstrong. Some folks even called me grumpy, hard to

get along with. But all that's changed in the last year, thanks to my bogus marriage and subsequent breakup. Since then I've been

a far more compassionate person."

She cocked her tiny head, indicating interest, so I obligingly pulled alongside the lilac and turned off the engine.

"I married a very handsome, charming man who just happened to be a bigamist."

"Oh,my!" I smiled bravely. "Barely a month after our marriage he sprang the bad news on me. He did it over the phone, no

less. At any rate, I thought my heart would break - maybe it did. Maybe when the two halves grew back together, a new

Magdalena was formed."

"Miss Yoder, do you mind if I smoke? I know you have a no-smoking rule at the inn, and I usually don't smoke anyway, but I

find that when I'm really upset. . ." She fumbled in her purse.

"Light up and die, toots."

"I know smoking causes cancer, but like I said, I very seldom do it."

"I didn't mean the cigarettes would kill you, dear. No one smokes in this car, not even my sister Susannah."

She stopped fumbling. "Very well, I can do without. But I want you to know, Miss Yoder, that my husband is not cheating on

me. And John is definitely not a bigamist."

I suppressed a sigh of pity. "Appearances can be deceiving, dear. I don't mean to scare you, but there is a potential bigamist

lurking in every woman's bush."

"John has no interest in other women."

"You mean - ?"

"He has no interest in sex, period. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but John lost interest as soon as we were married.

Not just in sex, but in me as a person. I'm not even sure that he loves me anymore."

I restrained myself from asking if John had an available twin brother. It would be nice if a man loved me, of course, but the

horizontal mambo, as Susannah so crudely calls it, is strictly for the birds.

"How long have you been married?"

"Forty-nine years."

"Wow. Any children?"

She smiled. "No children. I met John at a New Year's Eve party, and we were married on Valentine's Day. He was already

teaching at Duquesne, and I was headed for New York to do an engagement at Carnegie Hall. We've been busy ever since with

our own lives - children never even were considered. Not in the beginning. Then my arthritis started acting up, and John was

forced to retire and - well, it's now that we regret not having a family. People like us sort of deserve the lives we've built for

ourselves, don't we?"

My face stung. I am not childless by choice. I would love to have married and had a child - a house full of children, for that

matter - but that just wasn't in God's plan. I couldn't very well have a child outside the bounds of holy matrimony, now could I?

And until very recently - here in Hernia, at least - if a single woman adopted a child, she'd have the morals police down on her

faster than a hen on a June bug. Boy, would Lodema Schrock ever love to get her meddling mitts on a woman that foolish!

"I would have loved to have been a mother," I croaked.

"Oh, Miss Yoder, I didn't mean you. Honest, I didn't." She seemed so genuinely distressed at my distress, that I decided to

forgive her. Of course she needed to be taught a mild lesson first.

"That's all right, dear. Now tell me something. If you and John are trapped in this loveless, sexless marriage - well, why don't

you just get a divorce? Not that I approve of divorce, you understand. But it does seem to be the thing to do these days.

It was my turn to feel like a worm. The poor dear looked as pitiful as Susannah did the day I told her Santa Claus didn't really

exist. Trust me, due to that one slip of my tongue, last Christmas was downright miserable. "But I can't divorce John! If I did, I'd be

all alone.

"Don't you have other family?"

"I'm an only child, and my parents are dead."

"Cousins?" I asked hopefully. Surely everyone has a cousin somewhere, don't they? Of course with me being my own cousin,

it's something I'd never thought about.

She shook her head. "Everyone's dead now."

"Friends?"

"My concert schedule kept me on the road too much. You see, Miss Yoder, that's why I need John. That's why I must find

him." She fumbled in her purse again, saw my stem look, and thought better of it. "And John needs me too."

I nodded, although between you and me, I was beginning to doubt that men needed anything that couldn't be bought at

Walmart. "I'm sure he does, dear."

"You don't believe me, do you? Well, it's true. I'm all that John has as well. His family is gone too, and he's always found it

hard to make friends."

"Even at work? In the history department?"

"Even there. He's never had what you might call a zingy personality. But he was more fun to be with when he was young."

I said nothing. The scars on my tongue prove it.

"Really, he was. He made me laugh sometimes."

"If you say so, dear."

She said nothing for several minutes.

"Well" I said at last, "we could drive around some more-maybe head over toward Bedford. Maybe he's at Walmart."

"Let's go back to the inn," she said quietly. "I'll wait for him there."

I put my sanity on the line and called my sister's fiancé, Melvin Stoltzfus. I used my private line, which can only be accessed

from my bedroom.

"Hernia police," a cheery voice said. It clearly did not belong to Melvin.

My sigh of relief rustled the leaves in downtown Pittsburgh. "Zelda, dear, this is Magdalena. I need some help locating the

whereabouts of one of my guests."

"Have you lost someone again, Magdalena?"

"No, and I didn't lose my fifth-grade Sunday-school class. They put sleeping pills in my coffee and sneaked out through the

window. And it's not my fault - I told Reverend Schrock to put bars on it!"

"Oh. Well, who is missing this time?"

"A guest of mine. Dr. John Burk. Actually, he's not a real doctor - he's a fud."

"What did you say?"

"He's a Ph.D., dear."

"Oh. Well, how long has this fud been missing?"

"Uh - well, only a couple of hours, but his wife is really worried. Isn't there anything you can do to help?"

"Magdalena, you know I'd like to help, but Melvin has his rules."

"Yes, but he's not on duty today, is he?"

"Actually, he is. He just ran over to Sam's to buy some band aids. He got a nasty paper cut."

"Making airplanes again?"

"Judge not, Magdalena. Isn't that what the Bible says?"

I sighed. It is so hard to be charitable when the word is filled with idiots.

"Zelda, I'm not asking that you issue an all-points bulletin or contact the F.B.I. I just want you to help me keep an eye out for

this Burk fellow."

It was Zelda's turn to sigh. A self-confessed agnostic, she is a much better Christian than I.

"Okay. Give me a brief description."

"Six feet, maybe two hundred and fifty pounds, mostly bald, and has a cumulus cloud crowning his cranium."

"What?"

"Never mind dear. Just put down that he always looks troubled."

"Gotcha. Now I can't promise - just a minute." She put me on hold for the entire length of "Muskrat Love" by Captain and

Tenille. Just when I was about to confess my sins and plead to be removed from hell, she got back on the line. "Sorry, they were

stuck again."

"Those crippled bats you wear?"

"They're not crippled bats, Magdalena, they're eyelashes. These are the new Tammy Faye Ultralites. They're not supposed

to stick like that. Now, where was Mr. Burk last seen?"

"The PennDutch. He stormed off after a tiff with his wife and drove off in a new blue Saturn."

"Oh,my."

"Zelda, what is it?"

"Are you sitting down, Magdalena?"

"Yes." Actually, I was lying comfortably on my bed, my feet propped on a pile of pillows.

"Do you think he might have run off with Susannah?"

"What? You haven't been using that bourbon-based eyeliner again, have you?"

"That was blush, and the color was called bourbon. Look, Magdalena, I'm trying to be helpful."

"Then what's this stuff about Susannah running off with a geriatric Pittsburgher, for crying out loud? She's marrying Melvin

the day after tomorrow!"

I heard the receiver on the other end thud against Zelda's desk, strike something else, and then land on the floor with a loud

crack. Only then did I remember that Zelda was hopelessly, and inexplicably, in love with her boss.

"Zelda, I'm sorry! Zelda, can you hear me?"

The noxious song about amorous rodents must have been on tape, because I got to hear it three more times.

By the time Zelda picked up, I was resigned to an eternity of torment.

"What did you say about my Melvin and Susannah?"

"I'm sorry, dear, I thought you knew. I mean, you work with the man, for pete's sake. But don't feel bad, dear - I found out just

yesterday afternoon."

She was panting like an overweight jogger. "This is for real, Magdalena, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, dear. The knot is to be tied Wednesday morning at his mother's farm. So you really didn't have a clue, huh?

Because Sam said you were throwing them a big party tomorrow night."

"I'm throwing Melvin a party. It's his birthday."

I glanced at the square on my calendar in which I'd drawn a tiny pitchfork. "So it is. Tell me, whose idea was this party, his or

yours?"

"I can't help it, Magdalena. He says he still loves me."

"He's incapable of loving himself, dear. Besides, you know this marriage won't last."

"Because Susannah's a slut?" she asked hopefully. I let that pass. The truth is the truth, after all.

"Now what's this about Susannah and Dr. Burk?"

She sighed - although come to think of it, it may have been a whimper. "I don't know anything about your Dr. Burk, but I saw

Susannah in a blue Saturn just a couple of hours ago."

"You did? Where?"

"Headed north to Bedford on Highway 96."

"Was she alone?"

"From what I could see. Then again, she is Susannah."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Face it, Magdalena, your sister does things in cars Henry Ford never dreamed of. Just last month I caught her up on Stucky

Ridge parked in one of those new VW bugs."

"So? She borrowed it from a friend."

"So, when I tapped on the window out tumbled the entire Hernia High baseball team and - "

"Okay, I get the picture. Let me rephrase my question. Was Susannah driving the blue Saturn?"

"It appeared so."

"Just wait until I get my hands on her scrawny neck," I hissed.

"Maybe there won't be a wedding after all."

"She might still be in Bedford," Zelda said, suddenly cheery again. "You know how your sister loves to shop."

"Walmart, here I come!"

"In the meantime - as soon as Melvin gets back from Sam's - I'll do a little patrolling and see if I can spot your English

doctor. He is English, isn't he?"

"Yes, and so are you!" I wailed in exasperation. Although Zelda and I stem from the same stock, no Amish person in the

world was going to claim familial ties with an agnostic who applied her makeup with a putty knife.

"Magdalena, can I ask you one favor?"

"Ask, and then I'm out of here."

"Well - uh - it's just that - you see -"

"Spit it out, dear."

Before Zelda could master her mouth there was a loud rap on my door and I was forced to hang up.

8

Come in!"

"I can't, Magdalena, it's locked." The rapping was louder, more insistent.