Mother Finds a Body by Gypsy Rose Lee

with my big mouth wide open. I had to tell him about my great great grandmother.
    â€œShe was a part of the Donner expedition, ya know.”
    Biff gave me a “really,” so I went into the story headfirst.
    â€œYeah. They were homesteading and they got lost in the mountains in the winter. Snow and wolves and no food. It must have been terrible. My grandmother was one of the few survivors. Grandpa used to tell me how the scouts found her. She was in a daze, of course, and her ears were frozen, but she looked so fat and healthy they couldn’t figure the thing out. By all rights she shoulda been damn near starved to death, lost for over a month like that. But not my great great grandmother! When they got her home and undressed her, what do you think they found?”
    â€œI dunno,” Biff said disinterestedly.
    â€œSteaks, all strapped around her body. Human steaks.”
    I kept on walking but I peeked at Biff from the corner of my eye. He was still staring straight ahead, so I gave him the blackout. “They recognized one piece of the meat as my great great uncle Louie. They could tell by the tattoo on his hip. It was a picture of the rock of ages. I was named after him; you know, Louie, Louise.”
    There was more to the story, but Biff made a dive for the bushes. I waited for him. I thought it was the wifely thing to do. When he came out, he was white around the eyes, so I didn’ttell him about my great great grandfather. I suddenly realized I’d better give Biff the family history character by character.
    We walked the next half mile silently. Then Biff’s complexion cleared a little. “Real pioneer stock,” he said. “Yep, that accounts for it.”

6 WE FOUND THE SHERIFF IN HIS OFFICE. HE WAS relaxed in a swivel chair, with his feet, in their high-heeled boots, propped up on the roll-top desk. He put down a copy of Variety when Biff and I walked in. Then he stood up to greet us.
    â€œWell, well, I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” he said jovially. He drew out a chair for me and one for Biff. Then he pulled out a bottle from a drawer in his desk. He poured three drinks into paper cups and placed them in front of us.
    â€œFirst of all,” he said, “we get sociable.”
    Biff gulped his drink.
    I nursed mine.
    â€œCome on, drink up,” the sheriff said. “You two look like a couple of beat coyotes. Nothing serious enough for such long faces.”
    â€œI’m afraid this is,” Biff said.
    â€œIf it’s about the fire, I was fixing to ask you a few questions,” the sheriff said. “Matter of fact, I was going to question you this morning. Then, when I saw that you really were a bunch of actors, I didn’t bother.”
    Biff sat on the edge of his chair. His expression was the same as when H. I. Moss would ask him to take a salary cut. Biff always knew he’d agree to the terms, but he liked to be coaxed.
    I knew he was going to tell everything, but he wanted to wait for the right moment.
    He didn’t have to wait long. The sheriff must have gone to the same school of acting. His timing was beautiful.
    â€œYep,” he said. “Soon’s I knew you were actors I knew you wouldn’t be mixed up in anything like that.”
    â€œLike what?” Biff asked cautiously.
    â€œWhy, that body we found in the woods during the fire,” the sheriff replied, as though we should know all about it. “Shot through the head. Body was in bad shape, too. Dead for a spell, all right.”
    I drank my drink on that.
    â€œYep. Looked like someone poured gasoline on it and then touched it with a match. We’ll be able to identify it, but . . .”
    â€œMother wouldn’t do that!” I said.
    The sheriff and Biff stared at me. The sheriff in surprise, Biff in annoyance.
    â€œWill you let me tell it, Punkin?” he asked. “You get too involved. And not only that, you keep pulling the