Mischief In Maggody

Brother Verber tugged on his lower lip as he tried to digest her proposal for sainthood. He'd seen those nasty little brats in the past, and they were by far the nastiest little brats he'd ever had the misfortune to see. The lot of them should have been drowned at birth. "I'm begi

"He started swearing before I even finished my explanation," Mrs. Jim Bob said with a sniffle of outrage. "His remarks were uncalled for and rude. I was quick to tell him so, but he kept right on with his curse words."

"He swore at you?" Brother Verber said incredulously. He started patting her knee again to express his dismay. "What precisely did he say?"

"Nothing a good Christian woman can repeat, especially in the House of the Lord. Brother Verber, if you don't mind, I'm afraid I'm going to have bruises all over my upper legs if you don't stop patting me."

"My deepest apologies, Sister Barbara. I was carried away with my heartfelt response to your story of verbal abuse and outrage. I was doing a terrible thing. I ca

"I would never do anything to cause you that kind of grief," she said solemnly.

"No, it's clear I deserve to be confronted by my venereal sin of overenthusing. I feel mighty badly about this, Sister Barbara, mighty badly. I fear I've taken a step in the direction of eternal damnation by causing you the tiniest bit of pain, just when you were inspired to do something selfless along the lines of an African missionary converting savages to the Lord. Do I hear Satan putting a check by my name in his ledger of si

"My leg is fine," Mrs. Jim Bob said, sorry she'd ever brought it up to begin with. "I just mentioned the possibility of bruises, that's all. Why, I'd be offended if anyone suggested your tender hand could cause me pain and suffering."

"Is it too late to pray for salvation?" he said in a hollow voice.

Mrs. Jim Bob glanced at her watch. "Well, actually it is. I've got to run along now, Brother Verber. I'm afraid Arly's already fetched those poor little bastards and will be looking for me." She stood up and gazed down at his bent head. "Why don't you come by the house this evening, Brother Verber? I'll have a nice, fresh pecan pie and a cup of coffee for you. You can be thinking about how I can get around this 'love, honor, and obey' problem."

He gave her a watery smile. "Will you allow me to ease my mind about those bruises I may have inflicted on your knee?"

Mrs. Jim Bob nodded, then hurried down the aisle and out the door before he suggested a "before" and "after" view of the knee in question. Which he seemed to think went all the way to the bottom hem of her girdle. She drove down the highway, turning her head the opposite way as she passed the Emporium since it was owned by a bunch of drug-using, naked devil worshippers, and slowing down as she came to the PD.

Arly's car was gone, which meant she wasn't back with the bastards. At the Kwik-Stoppe-Shoppe, Mrs. Jim Bob parked and went inside to buy several bars of good, old-fashioned lye soap. After a moment of consideration, she told the pimply clerk to put the entire case in the back of her car. She then drove home, went to her bedroom, sat primly on the edge of her twin bed, and unclipped her nylons in order to inspect the damage.

"Well, it wasn't worth fifteen dollars," Estelle concluded tartly. "I'd estimate more like fifteen cents."

Ruby Bee moved the popcorn bowl down the counter to a more convenient location. "So all she did was tell you to keep wearing aquamarine? Except for your beautician's uniform, that's all you wear these days-and no man with a fu

"I don't know what got into Madam Celeste," Estelle said, shaking her head. She tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth and sucked off the salt. "She kept looking out the window, and she didn't hear half of what I said to her. It got right tedious having to repeat myself over and over, like my tongue was the needle on a scratchy record. In the middle of a description of the man with the accent-she thinks he has a mustache, by the way-but in the middle of this, Mason came in and asked-"

"What kind of mustache? A big handlebar, or one of those pathetic little things that look like they're drawn with an eyebrow pencil?"

Estelle frowned over the bar. "I'll thank you not to interrupt me, Ruby Bee Hanks. I don't happen to know what kind of mustache, because Mason came in and asked Madam Celeste how she felt. She said she was feeling better, but then she upped and told me she had a headache and that the session was over just like that. It was all I could do not to say something, if you know what I mean."

"Not one hint of what kind of mustache?"

"Not one hint; I already told you that. I felt as if I'd been swept out the door like a ball of cat hair. What's more, she had plenty of time for Carol Alice Plummer. I chanced to meet her while I was walking down the road, and she-"

"Who'd you meet?"

"Don't mess with me, Ruby Bee. You can see with your own eyes that I am upset. If you're going to interrupt every single sentence that comes out of my mouth, I'll just go home and talk to the mirror. At least I won't be interrupted all the time."

"I didn't hear to whom you were referring," Ruby Bee said indignantly. "I can't follow your story if I don't know who we're talking about."

"Carol Alice Plummer, if you must know, Mrs. Hard-of-Hearing. You know her-her pa works at the body shop in Starley City, and she's a right cute girl with medium-light ash-blond hair. I seem to recollect she's a cheerleader and keeping company with the Swiggins boy what's on the football team."

Ruby Bee slid the popcorn bowl back within reach, having surreptitiously moved it while she was being yelled at most unfairly. "So Carol Alice came out of Madam Celeste's house just before you got there? Did she have anything to say?"

"I will tell you if you give me half a chance. She was bouncing down the road like her heels were rubber, with a kind of dreamy look on her face. I said good morning in a neighborly voice, intending to ask her if she might want to lighten a few dark streaks in her hair, but she went right past me. You'd of thought I was a ghost!"

"Well, I never," Ruby Bee gasped. "Isn't it a shame the way the young folks are reared these days? You'd think they learned their ma

"Or at Raz Buchanon's knee."

"Or from a carnival huckster with tattoos."

"Or from Robin Buchanon," Estelle contributed, enjoying the exchange. "Or from a traveling vacuum cleaner salesman. Or from a-"

Ruby Bee stuck up a finger. "Did I tell you what happened earlier today? It was most puzzling." When Estelle shook her head, Ruby Bee related the confrontation with the puny, vile-mouthed Buchanon child.

"I can't believe he talks like that," Estelle said, tossing off her beer with a snort.

"But the strangest thing is why he was with Arly. She never did say anything about why he was in her custody or what crime he had committed. If you'd heard him, you'd probably guess murder or armed robbery." Ruby Bee took a handful of popcorn and pensively chewed it. "It's outright mysterious, if you ask me. Why on earth would anybody want anything to do with Robin Buchanon's bastards? They're such dirty, nasty things that the social worker crossed them off her clipboard and never mentioned them again. The school wouldn't take them, as sure as I'm standing here. I thank my lucky stars I don't ever have to see any of them again. But I sure would like to know why Arly had that savage with her."