Madness In Maggody

Hizzoner and Mizzoner were dressed in their Sunday best. He was slapping backs and acting real genial, but there was something about his production that seemed forced. Every now and then, he shot narrow looks at a silver-haired man in a white suit and string bow tie. I cleverly deduced the recipient of this muted hostility was Petrel.

Mrs. Jim Bob was graciously accepting compliments and kind words with small nods. She could have been in the foyer of the White House, welcoming a select group of politicians' wives for a bridge party.

A big red ribbon barred the entrance. Kevin Buchanon was standing guard beside it, a pair of pruning shears in his hand. His Adam's apple bobbled as always; it was obvious he was taking pride in his assignment to defend the castle. The crowd was swelling as more trucks parked along the highway, and the blistering heat pouring down from above and bouncing up from the asphalt lot was not conducive to a general ambience of goodwill. Men were loosening neckties by the second, and women in panty hose were begi

Raz Buchanon, a tobacco-chawin' pain in the rear, was muttering all kinds of rebellious things to anyone fool enough to listen, and Elsie McMay was fa

Pretty soon, we heard an eerie noise from behind the building, and a dozen or so high-school students in band uniforms came into view, each red-faced and attacking an instrument. I waited to see if Mizzoner would start screeching about u

When the band mercifully stopped, Petrel stepped up to a microphone, intoned a few sentences about how pleased he was to serve the community and hoped its citizens could be considered his personal friends, and so on. He then introduced Jim Bob, who reiterated the neighborly sentiments and then introduced Mrs. Jim Bob, who did the same and then introduced Brother Verber, who blessed the building at such length that I started eyeing the crowd, which was milling about and mumbling about hot air and hotshots and that sort of u

Jim Bob wrestled the microphone away from Brother Verber and said, "Amen! There's just one more introduction I want to make afore we cut the ribbon and let you good folks into Jim Bob's SuperSaver Buy 4 Less, where you'll find bargains on every shelf and free refreshments in the international picnic pavilion. I want you all to give a big round of applause for the upstanding young boys of Maggody's championship baseball team. And here they come!"

The band began to play something. A couple of cheerleaders did their best to come cartwheeling across the area in front of the microphone, flashing starlit panties to the spectators' delight. The team, in full uniform from red caps to red-striped socks, marched into view, each looking straight ahead with no-nonsense expressions.

"No, they ain't," howled a voice in the back of the crowd.

"No, they ain't…what?" Jim Bob said, shielding his eyes to see better. He must have seen something, because his jaw dropped so far that the sun glinted on a filling. Before he could say anything further, a particularly enthusiastic cheerleader careened into Raz, who fell against Alex Sattering, who flailed his arms before he staggered into a third man, who whammed into Geraldo Mandozes, who snarled in Spanish and shoved him into a blond woman with sunglasses, who smashed into the van and went down like a load of bricks-all to the amusement of the cameraman, who was busily capturing it for the evening news.

Jim Bob sucked in a deep breath. "What ain't they?" he repeated loudly over the riot begi

Ruby Bee (of course; did you even doubt?) pushed through the crowd, her jaw leading the way. Following on her heels were the nine members of the Ruby Bee's Flamingos, each wearing a white baseball cap and a blindingly pink T-shirt with the team name on the front and a number on the back. They all looked terrified, and I didn't blame them.

The sight shut everybody up. Ruby Bee went to the microphone and elbowed Jim Bob aside. I want you all to meet the Ruby Bee's Flamingos. Ain't they something?" When the applause died, she gave Jim Bob a cool look and said, "And it's going on record now that this SuperSaver team ain't the town champions until they win the title, and we aim to challenge 'em to a game to determine who goes to the tournament."

Jim Bob was way too stu

"Why, that's the Mexican's young'un!"

"There's two gals on the team!"

"Do you see who that one is? That's Robin Buchanon's bastard. I was real sure he'd gone to an orphanage."

"What in tarnation happened to Elsie's fat little grandson? He looks like he done been attacked with a shovel!"

"Imagine picking your nose in front of everybody! That's disgusting!"

There was a lot of the above in the air, and the unrelenting heat was now getting competition from at least a hundred bodies, some of them obviously unwashed. I was getting queasy myself and trying to decide what to do when Kevin scratched his head, took a deep breath, snipped the ribbon, and yelled, "Y'all can come inside now!" It was the first intelligent thing he'd done-ever.

Jim Bob came to his senses and growled at the band to play something. The cheerleaders began to shriek out entreaties to make that goal and rickety rack, stop 'em in their track and go, go, go. Once everybody realized there would be no overt violence, they went, went, went.

I hung back until I had some breathing room, then went over to Ruby Bee and said, "Cute. Real cute."

She opted to misinterpret my remark. "Yes, they're the cutest things I've ever laid eyes on. You don't think the shirts are too bright, do you? I had to take what I could get at the sporting-goods store in Farberville and practically get down on my knees and beg to get them to put on the letters right then and there."

"Whaddya think?" Hammet called to me. "Ain't we sumpun?"

"Oh, yes indeed." I turned back and with admirable restraint said, "Do you feel this confrontation is in the best interests of community goodwill?"

Estelle clattered up in a pink shirt, a skirt, and high heels and looked down her nose at me. "I don't see why Ruby Bee has to account to you, missy. You may be the chief of police, but that doesn't mean you're entitled to get too big for your britches."

"Goodness gracious," Ruby Bee said as she fa

Two seconds later, I had the parking lot to myself I took a deep breath and counted to ten (in French, no less), called to the deputy that he could leave (no Les?), and followed the crowd into Jim Bob's SuperSaver Buy 4 Less.

The air conditioner was going full blast. The linoleum floor was shiny, the fluorescent lights bright, and the aisles wide enough to accommodate those wandering up and down with awed expressions. The three registers were ma