Dee to join me in the parlor.
"Just had me some tea, Miss Yoder. But I'd be glad to sit and shoot the breeze for a spell."
I happily drank Billy Dee's share of the reward. "So how did supper go?" I asked casually. I was dying to know. I also wanted to know who had done the dishes.
Billy chuckled. "You missed a night to remember, Miss Yoder."
"Please... Magdalena."
He nodded. "Yep, it was quite something. The Congressman and his missus, and that Delbert guy, they all liked my venison stew. Although the Congressman didn't like the bay leaf. But them other folks! Whew! You'd'a thought I'd drug a skunk in, the way they all scooted down to the other end of the table."
"How about the other dishes? Did you taste them?"
"Some. But you couldn't pay me enough to taste that mess Jeanette served up. Leeks is something that happens to your faucet. Not something you oughta be eating.
"However, that casserole your cook brought over sure hit the spot. Had me two helpings of that."
"What casserole, and what cook?"
"You know, that sort of short woman with the... uh...the uh...the big...uh..."
"Freni? Freni Hostetler was here?" The department Freni was big in was all too obvious. Susannah and I have often mused that her branch of the family had somehow usurped all the mammary genes in our pool. It may be only a slight exaggeration, but if Susannah and I laid flat on our backs we would make excellent putting greens.
"Yeah," said Billy Dee, "Mrs. Hostetler, that's her name."
"But Freni doesn't even work for me anymore!"
"You fire her?"
"She quit. But with Freni it's all the same. How long was she here for?"
"Just brought the casserole and left. Oh, she did ask where you were. Seemed kinda disappointed you weren't around."
"Well, that's the breaks. How was Linda's salad?"
"Miss Yoder, I mean Magdalena, when I don't know the name of something, I ain't likely to eat it."
"But it was just a salad."
"That's what she said, but there were vegetables in there I ain't never seen before."
Considering the state of Sam's produce, I doubt if even Linda could provide the correct nomenclature. "What about Lydia's vegetarian curry?" I asked. "That sounded delicious to me."
Billy sighed. "Mrs. Ream is an awfully nice woman, and I didn't want to hurt her feelings, not after she ate my stew and everything, so I tasted the stuff."
"And?"
His expression told me everything. "Couldn't get more than a bite down," he said needlessly. "But I did like the
Congressman's beans. And you know what? Even that stuff Joel made wasn't that bad. I ain't never had broiled bananas before, but they're better than they sound. In fact, everyone liked them so much, Joel had to get up and make some more."
"I'll have to get his recipe," I said, although I was pretty sure I wouldn't like them.
Billy Dee and I chatted on a bit more. He confessed that he and Lydia had done the cleanup and all the dishes, but Lydia had made him promise not to give her any credit for the good deed. He also informed me that the next day's plans were pretty much the same as they had been for today. Except, of course, that his team was going to be more vigilant and not let the
Congressman's party get away from them. To that end he had already taken the liberty of making up some sandwiches for his group.
"And don't worry about breakfast," said Billy Dee. "We'll each just make our own, if it's all right with you."
"That's perfectly fine. Didn't the Congressman and Delbert have any luck at all today in their hunting?"
"They claim they didn't see a single buck worth taking. But," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, even though there wasn't a soul awake to hear us, "just between you and me, I don't think they even went hunting. Not after deer, anyway. No, sir, I don't think deer's their kind of game."
"Then what is?" What a shame Billy Dee was slipping from the rational category into the absurd.
Billy smiled a wide, Cheshire-cat-like grin. "I aim to find out tomorrow. For sure."
17
For only the second time I can remember, I outslept Susannah. The first time was the morning following my high school prom. No,
I was not up all night partying and drinking. I was up all night crying because Mama wouldn't let me go, even though I had been invited by Eldon Shrock, who was a fourth cousin twice removed, and the son of Hernia's mayor. Mama said, and Papa silently agreed, that dancing was the tool the devil used to get younger people to fornicate.
"All that rubbing together," Mama had explained, "leads to urges that the body can't control."
"But we'll mostly just be doing the twist," I argued. 'We won't even be touching."
"Just the same, Magdalena, vibrations will be jumping back and forth between the two of you, like lightning between two thunderheads."
"But, Mama, the twist is fun. It's no worse than drying off with a towel!" I demonstrated briefly for, her benefit.
Mama had blushed and turned quickly away. "Not even with your Papa could I imagine doing such a thing!"
That was it, then. No prom for me, just buckets of tears and eyes that stayed red for a week. Of course, for Susannah, who is ten years younger, everything was different. They were no longer doing the twist. Even the Freddy had flopped by then. At
Susannah's prom couples groped and grappled in a dimly lit gym, as thoroughly entwined as a French braid.
By then it was no use asking Mama why Susannah got to go and I didn't. By then the world had changed too much, and
Mama with it. At some point in the interim Mama had cut off the long braids she traditionally wore coiled around her head. I was still recovering from the shock of that when she bought a pair of pants to wear for working in the garden. Had Mama lived longer, she might eventually have worn slacks into town and put on lipstick. I still miss Mama terribly, but there is a part of me that is glad she went when she did. Perhaps it's unfair of me to say so, but mothers should look and act like mothers, don't you think?
At any rate, when I awoke that morning, it was because Susannah was shaking me and shouting in my ear.
"Go away," I said. I turned over on my right side and pulled my pillow over my head.
"If you don't come with me, then I'll just go by myself," Susannah shouted. "Shnookums must be absolutely frantic, not knowing where his mama is."
"His mama lives in a kennel in New Jersey, Susannah. Why don't you just write him a letter explaining that?"
"Very funny, Mags. Are you coming with me, or am I driving your car?"
"How did you sleep? Like a lamb?"
"Not bad, although, frankly, I can't remember anything after Doc said he wanted Shnookums to stay the night. Guess I was kind of tired from all the stress."
Poor Susannah, sometimes it's not even fun pulling the wool over her eyes. Grudgingly I got up and drove her over to
Doc's. Even before I got out of the car I could hear Shnookum's high-pitched barks through Doc's closed door.
Doc was just setting up to perform gall bladder surgery on a shar-pei when we arrived, but he seemed glad to see us nonetheless. "About time, ladies. This little dog of yours is anxious to get back home."
Susannah looked at me accusingly, and old Doc looked at Shnookums like he might regard a laboratory rat that had bitten him one too many times.
"How is he?" I asked. It doesn't hurt to be hopeful.
"He's as good as can be expected," said Doc noncommittally. For the moment at least, Susannah's mutt looked like the picture of health to me. As soon as he was released from his cage, Shnookums leaped into Susannah's arms, licked her face a couple of times, and then hopped unceremoniously into the nether reaches of her bosom. I didn't see him for the rest of the day.
When we got back to the house, I suggested to Susannah that we really ought to take advantage of the peace and quiet by doing a thorough dusting and sweeping of all the public rooms.
"But I promised Melvin I would go with him into Breezewood tonight to see a movie," my little sister whined. "I need to wash my hair and get ready."
"Susannah, it's only eleven o'clock in the morning. You'll have plenty of time to get ready. And which Melvin is this, anyway? Not Melvin Stoltzfus, our acting Chief of Police?" I was mature enough not to make any reference to the bull who hadn't liked being milked, and the consequences of that experience.
"Isn't he dreamy, Mags?"
I rolled my eyes and wrung my hands.
"Well, it's your fault, Magdalena. I hadn't see him for ages, and then you mentioned seeing him yesterday. So, this morning, while you were sleeping, I called him up and asked him out for coffee, and he invited me out for dinner and a movie instead."
"Why, bite my tongue! But in the meantime, you can help me with the housework, or you're not going to see one thin dime this week. " Papa, in his wisdom, left the farm to me with the provision that I see to Susannah's needs until such time as she proved herself competent and productive. If such a day ever comes along, I am morally, if not legally, bound to turn over half the estate to her. So far I haven't come close to worrying about an impending partnership.
Susannah made one of her defiant faces; one that Mama might have found amusing, but not me. "Okay, if you'll just chill for a minute. First let me run upstairs to my own room and find Shnookums his binky. I think it might be under the bed someplace."
I sighed deeply as I acquiesced. A happy Shnookums was a happy Susannah, and if retrieving her dog's binky from under her bed was what it took to get some work out of her, I could live with that. Even though the very notion of a pooch with a pacifier was beyond my comprehension.
"Okay, but make it fast. And don't touch anything in there. That's a guest room now. We have to respect our guests' privacy."
Susannah headed upstairs while I changed the head on the dust mop. I had just gotten the new cover on when I heard
Susannah scream. Even if the house had been full of people, I would have recognized that scream as hers. Hers is an exceptionally high-pitched scream, and while it won't break any glasses, it will curdle milk and put the hens off laying.
Only twice before, not counting Shnookum's bath in the batter, had I heard Susannah scream like that. Once was when she was about eight and stumbled across a still-born calf in the north pasture. The second time was when Reuben Metzer,
Hernia's onetime pharmacist and prominent pedophile, exposed himself to her. That happened during a lightning storm on
Susannah's tenth birthday. Even though there was an entire room full of little girls already in full scream by then, I immediately picked out Susannah's.
I flung the mop down and bolted up those impossibly steep stairs two at a time. That's when I found Susannah standing in the doorway, staring at the corpse that was clutching Mama's best dresden plate quilt.
Like I said before, it was immediately obvious to me that this was a corpse, a victim of murder, not just someone whose time had happened to come during a snooze on Susannah's bed. After I sent Susannah downstairs to look for the borax, I took the phone out into the hallway and called the police. It wasn't until Melvin Stoltzfus picked up the phone that I remembered Chief
Myers was out of town.
"I'm sorry, I must have a wrong number," I said. I'm normally not a fast thinker, but I would rather bury a corpse out in the north forty by myself than involve Melvin Stoltzfus.
"Magdalena, is that you? Tell Susannah my mother just called and she wants me to stop by and check out a buzz in her washing machine, so I won't be picking her up until six. Oh, and tell her I'll be wearing my green suit and a green and yellow checkered tie, so she'll know what to wear. Also, do you happen to know if she likes licorice, and if so, does she prefer the bites, the sticks, or the ropes?"
That did it. Melvin Stoltzfus deserved to have a corpse thrown in his lap while his superior was away. Literally, if at all possible. "Put your mother's washing machine and Susannah's licorice on hold, Melvin. I need you to come out to the inn right away. There's been a murder."
"Quit jumping to conclusions," said Melvin sanctimoniously. "It might just have been an accident. Did you call Alvin
Hostetler yet?"
"I'm sending you a compass for Christmas!" I screamed.
"A what?"
"Never mind! I'm not talking about Miss Brown, Melvin. This murder just happened. There's a corpse lying in Susannah's bed."
"Susannah's been murdered?"
