aunt, her face shining with happiness. “Tell!”
Felix lifted his chin at Jottie, delegating the task.
“It was nothing,” Jottie began. “Nothing terrible. The Reverend Holy James Shee came to town once a year to save everyone’s soul. Every year,he’d go to the quarry and walk on water, and folks would scream and cry and get baptized and give Holy James Shee all their money.”
Felix chuckled. “Jottie couldn’t stand that part.”
“Well, I knew he was walking on something,” Jottie went on. “So Felix and I drove out to the quarry and went swimming around, and sure enough, we found a big board stuck right under the water for Holy James Shee to walk on, the old sinner.” She paused. “So we took it.”
“And then what?” urged Willa breathlessly. “Did he fall in?”
“He did,” Jottie said. “He didn’t notice that the board was gone until he stepped out of his little holy boat and sank like a stone.”
“Jottie stood there and laughed,” Felix said.
“I did not! Not the whole time, anyway. Once his white robes got wrapped around his neck and he started shrieking for help, I didn’t laugh.”
“You ran,” said Felix. He grinned at Willa. “Jottie turned tail and ran, and that was how everyone knew it was us who’d done it.”
“I was only a child! I was scared!”
“She was guilty,” said Felix. “And do you know who our daddy whipped? Me. He whipped me until his switch broke, and he had to go out and cut himself another one to finish up.”
“Poor Father,” mourned Willa, reaching to touch his sleeve.
“I’m sorry, honey,” said Jottie sympathetically.
“Don’t be,” said Felix. “Daddy got a lot of pleasure out of it.”
“Felix! Daddy whipped you because you were so bad the rest of the time, he figured it was your idea!” said Minerva. “You were the worst boy in town!”
“Wasn’t,” said Felix.
“Oh! You!” Her wicker chair crackled with her indignation. “Who practically chopped Jottie’s hand off with a sword? That you stole! Who put that ladder on the roof of the Statesman Saloon?” Her voice rose. “Who took Daddy’s barn apart piece by piece until it fell over? Sold his own baby brother to the Gypsies? Stole Gaylord Spurling’s coatrack every single week like
clockwork
and put it in Miss Shanholtzer’s parlor?” she demanded. “Who?”
“I give up,” said Felix blandly. “Who?”
“Yoo-hoo! Jottie! You-all up there?” Harriet and Richie bobbed out of the darkness, the first of the evening visitors.
“Wait!” Willa held out a hand to stay the moment. “Tell about the coatrack. Why did you put it in—” But it was too late. Felix was rising to his feet. Willa slumped back in her chair.
“Harriet!” cried Jottie. “How-you, honey? Hey, Richie. Come on and sit down!”
“Why, Felix! I haven’t seen you in a hundred years!” Harriet cried. She flapped her hand at him. “Lord, honey, sit down! It’s too hot to stand up.” She squinted across the gloom. “I don’t know why you don’t get any older, Felix. The rest of us look like something the cat dragged in, and you’re just the same as twenty years ago.”
He grinned at her. “I got gray hair.”
“I don’t see any gray hair,” said Harriet. She moved toward him across the dark. “Show me a gray hair.”
He bent his head, and she stretched out her hand—
There was a loud crack as Richie shifted in his chair, and Harriet snatched her hand away. “Dark as a pocket tonight, isn’t it?” she said to no one in particular, plopping down beside Bird. “I’ll bet we’re going to get a storm before the night’s out, don’t you?”
Underneath the talk of heat, the low voices of the men began. “How’s the chemical business these days?” Richie asked.
“Can’t complain.” Felix drew on his cigarette.
“That right?” said Richie. “Then you’re the only one who can’t.”
“I heard everything down at Everlasting was fine.”
Richie made a
Felix lifted his chin at Jottie, delegating the task.
“It was nothing,” Jottie began. “Nothing terrible. The Reverend Holy James Shee came to town once a year to save everyone’s soul. Every year,he’d go to the quarry and walk on water, and folks would scream and cry and get baptized and give Holy James Shee all their money.”
Felix chuckled. “Jottie couldn’t stand that part.”
“Well, I knew he was walking on something,” Jottie went on. “So Felix and I drove out to the quarry and went swimming around, and sure enough, we found a big board stuck right under the water for Holy James Shee to walk on, the old sinner.” She paused. “So we took it.”
“And then what?” urged Willa breathlessly. “Did he fall in?”
“He did,” Jottie said. “He didn’t notice that the board was gone until he stepped out of his little holy boat and sank like a stone.”
“Jottie stood there and laughed,” Felix said.
“I did not! Not the whole time, anyway. Once his white robes got wrapped around his neck and he started shrieking for help, I didn’t laugh.”
“You ran,” said Felix. He grinned at Willa. “Jottie turned tail and ran, and that was how everyone knew it was us who’d done it.”
“I was only a child! I was scared!”
“She was guilty,” said Felix. “And do you know who our daddy whipped? Me. He whipped me until his switch broke, and he had to go out and cut himself another one to finish up.”
“Poor Father,” mourned Willa, reaching to touch his sleeve.
“I’m sorry, honey,” said Jottie sympathetically.
“Don’t be,” said Felix. “Daddy got a lot of pleasure out of it.”
“Felix! Daddy whipped you because you were so bad the rest of the time, he figured it was your idea!” said Minerva. “You were the worst boy in town!”
“Wasn’t,” said Felix.
“Oh! You!” Her wicker chair crackled with her indignation. “Who practically chopped Jottie’s hand off with a sword? That you stole! Who put that ladder on the roof of the Statesman Saloon?” Her voice rose. “Who took Daddy’s barn apart piece by piece until it fell over? Sold his own baby brother to the Gypsies? Stole Gaylord Spurling’s coatrack every single week like
clockwork
and put it in Miss Shanholtzer’s parlor?” she demanded. “Who?”
“I give up,” said Felix blandly. “Who?”
“Yoo-hoo! Jottie! You-all up there?” Harriet and Richie bobbed out of the darkness, the first of the evening visitors.
“Wait!” Willa held out a hand to stay the moment. “Tell about the coatrack. Why did you put it in—” But it was too late. Felix was rising to his feet. Willa slumped back in her chair.
“Harriet!” cried Jottie. “How-you, honey? Hey, Richie. Come on and sit down!”
“Why, Felix! I haven’t seen you in a hundred years!” Harriet cried. She flapped her hand at him. “Lord, honey, sit down! It’s too hot to stand up.” She squinted across the gloom. “I don’t know why you don’t get any older, Felix. The rest of us look like something the cat dragged in, and you’re just the same as twenty years ago.”
He grinned at her. “I got gray hair.”
“I don’t see any gray hair,” said Harriet. She moved toward him across the dark. “Show me a gray hair.”
He bent his head, and she stretched out her hand—
There was a loud crack as Richie shifted in his chair, and Harriet snatched her hand away. “Dark as a pocket tonight, isn’t it?” she said to no one in particular, plopping down beside Bird. “I’ll bet we’re going to get a storm before the night’s out, don’t you?”
Underneath the talk of heat, the low voices of the men began. “How’s the chemical business these days?” Richie asked.
“Can’t complain.” Felix drew on his cigarette.
“That right?” said Richie. “Then you’re the only one who can’t.”
“I heard everything down at Everlasting was fine.”
Richie made a
Similar Books
