Cry Baby Hollow (32 page)

“That’s the spirit,” Vina told her, grinning as she turned to go back and heckle the photographer.

Part of Aubrey wanted to whistle up Drake - who was happily munching all the popcorn Mo could throw him - stomp home, and become a true hermit. Another, much bigger part, wanted to march over to Joe and explain to him that if he wasn’t there waiting for her at the finish line, she really had no incentive to keep fighting. The fact that he had that much power over her terrified her. The idea of admitting it to
him
was inconceivable. A happy middle ground involved beating the shit out of the opportunist with the perfect breasts who was standing at his side. She took a step forward.

“What are you going to do?” Matt asked, grabbing her arm.

Aubrey glanced over at him, all innocence and unconcern.

“While standing here like a high school girl at a dance who’s boyfriend just walked in with a girl from a rival clique is appealing, I thought I’d go be a mature adult and say hello to them. Last time I checked, Joe and I are both neighbors and friends. Until he tells me otherwise, I’m going to behave like it.” She smiled sweetly and gently pulled her arm out of Matt’s grasp. “Besides, it’s Mo’s turn in line. I need to get Drake and take my place or I’ll never get to go see the rest of the party.”

She strode away, trying to minimize her limp.

“You still have your sidearm?” Matt asked Larry.

Larry looked down at his bear suit, wondering how anyone, including himself, could get at it.

“Check,” Matt told him, retracting one of his arms into the banana and doing so himself. Larry patted his side and nodded. “One of Aubrey’s favorite tricks used to be to pick pocket drunks and steal their keys so they couldn’t drive home,” Matt explained. “She was really good at it.”

“You think there’ll be trouble?” Larry asked.

“Did she ever tell you about how she got divorced?” Matt asked him.

Larry shook his head. “I didn’t even know she was,” he admitted.

“Oh yeah,” Matt said gravely. “She was married to my best friend right up until she caught him in bed with another woman. The way I heard it, she drug them both out to the curb, buck-naked, and locked them out of the apartment building. Jason was a marine, Force Recon, and I can guarantee he didn’t go willingly.”

“So I guess that’s a ‘yes’ to there bein’ trouble?” Larry said.

Matt shrugged.

“I guess that depends on how much she really likes this guy,” Matt said.

Aubrey collected Drake and thanked Mo. He went to take his turn in the ring and Aubrey sauntered over to Joe, a little alarmed to see that a hole had opened in the crowd around them and the woman was demonstrating what type of circus act she was supposed to be. As Aubrey watched, she placed her palms flat on the floor and kicked her feet into the air. She hovered there in a handstand, and then began walking slowly forward on her hands. The men in the crowd roared their approval, and the women clapped politely. Aubrey decided she must have glued on her bikini top, because while her breasts swayed alarmingly and threatened to give her a black eye, her top stayed firmly in place. She was clever, Aubrey thought. A woman who lost her top at a party made a good story the next day, but this spectacle that promised to expose a breast but didn’t only left the men wanting more.

Joe saw her coming and walked over, meeting her halfway. He reached down and ruffled Drake’s mane playfully. Behind them, they heard a bark of laughter from the ring and both turned to see what was going on.

Vina had plucked someone from the crowd and was calling Matt to come over.

“Come on, Chiquita,” she yelled. “Your time has come. Here,” she said, pushing both Matt and the newcomer into the ring. “It’s the only way you don’t look like a complete idiot.”

The newcomer turned and Aubrey saw that it was someone in a gorilla suit. Vina arranged them in the ring and ordered the photographer to take the shot, then she shooed them away and glanced around at the line, trying to decide who was next.

“I see you brought your friend,” Joe said casually.

“I see you brought a whore,” Aubrey countered. So much for maturity.

Joe laughed.

“Hell, she doesn’t charge,” he told Aubrey with a wink. “How far you made it around the lake?” He asked with a sideways glance at her expression.

“I lapped it yesterday,” Aubrey lied with a grin.

Joe’s face broke into a huge smile. “Then let’s go get our picture taken,” he said, taking her arm and leading her toward Vina, “so we can get out a here.”

Aubrey raised her eyebrows.

“Won’t your date be upset?” She asked.

“Hell,” Joe said with a shrug. “I didn’t bring her. She latched onto me outside and wouldn’t let go. I was afraid I was gonna have to flirt with her all night before you got mad enough to come over.”

Aubrey laughed.

“Oh yeah, I could see what a sacrifice you were making when she kissed you.”

“You got no idea,” Joe assured her. “Not only has that girl pulled more trains than Amtrak, but I thought I was gonna have to hang a little pine tree in my helmet. She’s got the worst breath in three counties.”

“Poor thing,” Aubrey told him without the faintest hint of sympathy.

“You two,” Vina barked, waving them over. “Come on. You’re holding up the line.”

Joe let out a little whoop of delight when he realized the Fat Lady was Vina.

“You like it?” She asked him.

He whistled appreciatively.

Vina cackled with delight. “One of each of ‘em alone and one of them together,” she told the photographer. “Start with him,” she ordered, and called over one of her clown minions to go and get a chair.

Joe’s picture was taken, with Vina complaining the whole time that he hadn’t thought to bring a cannon, and then the clown came back with a small, wooden chair with a cane seat. Aubrey held it up menacingly, along with her whip and Drake hopped up onto the fez shaped stool obediently and bared his teeth when Aubrey told him to smile. Then Joe joined them and put his arm around her shoulder for the group shot, with Drake sitting happily at their feet.

Finally released from the obligatory photo shoot, their hands were stamped and they walked out to get a drink. When they got to the tent flap, Katie was blocking their path. Drake growled low in his throat and stepped back from her, his haunches raised. Aubrey placed her hand on his shoulder and tried to calm him down.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Katie told Aubrey, ignoring Drake’s reaction. Her voice was simpering sweet and her accent came more from Gone With the Wind than the Appalachians. “Joe just has the nicest things to say about you. He and I go way back,” she smiled.

“I hear you go way back with everyone,” Aubrey told her coolly. Joe blanched. “You grew up here, didn’t you,” Aubrey continued smoothly. “It must be so nice to have deep roots in a place. I’ve always moved so much, I feel as if I missed out on that small town ideal of knowing all your neighbors so intimately.”

Katie’s smile was sharp enough to cut a diamond. “I do so want to thank you for your help taking care of our little problem,” Katie said. “It’s so hard to be a Mosley in this town when people like that give us such a bad name. One rotten apple can spoil the whole bunch.”

“You’re welcome,” Aubrey said politely. “You can show your gratitude by keeping your tongue out of my boyfriend’s mouth.”

She smiled and brushed past her, going toward the drink cart without a backward glance. Joe and Drake followed in her wake. Joe looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to congratulate her or scold her.

“That isn’t exactly how we do things around here,” he said when he caught up.

“I guess I’ve been spending too much time with Vina,” Aubrey told him with a smile of deep satisfaction. “Besides, people around here don’t think I’m being rude, they just think I’m a Yankee.”

“Yeah well, she ain’t soon gonna forget that,” he cautioned.

Aubrey shrugged.

“I’m not soon going to forget that several members of her extended family almost killed me, so I guess we’re not destined to be the besties. Besides, she needs to consider herself lucky. If I had any pockets, she’d be getting more than pointed remarks.”

Joe smiled broadly.

“I should warn you, all this business of bein’ fought over is makin’ me rangy.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

They got alcoholic
snow cones and Aubrey realized immediately that it was a bad idea. The cold mist that covered the ground had her feet and ankles soaked, in spite of her costumes tall boots, and her teeth began to chatter as soon as she took her first bite.

Joe pulled off his jacket, threw it over her shoulders, and led her around to the back of the house where the third and largest of the circus tents had been erected. Inside, bleachers had been set aroun
d a stage with a karaoke machine set up on it, and everyone was having a grand time throwing popcorn and heckling their neighbors.

Joe helped Aubrey into a seat and then sat close beside her with his arm around her shoulder, glad for the excuse of her skimpy costume and the chilly night.

“We can’t stay long,” he whispered. “You and Drake have a good shot at a prize in the costume contest, but if the judge doesn’t see you, you can’t win.”

“Who’s the judge?” Aubrey asked, eager for anything to distract her from the horrible singing of the pudgy spandexed girl on stage.

“It’s a big secret,” he said. “Vina’s afraid of bribery. There’s a jug at the front, you probably didn’t even notice it, but people write suggestions for next year’s theme on ‘em and if Vina picks it, you become the costume judge. That way only she and the judge know who it is.”

“Oh no,” Aubrey breathed. “She wouldn’t…”

Joe laughed.

“Lemme guess. You picked the circus?”

“Maybe someone else did too,” Aubrey protested. “Maybe they’re the judge!”

Joe shook his head.

“We gotta get movin’,” he told her. “If it’s you, then you gotta get out there and look folks over.”

He helped her down from the bleachers and called Drake to come with them.

“You’re in luck,” he told Aubrey. “I’ve been the judge twice, so I’m kinda an expert.”

“Oh really,” she said, “and what were your themes?”

“The last one was Accidental Death, a few years before that I did Gods and Goddesses. That one was a heap a trouble. The Baptists decided we were all pagans, and the next year they changed the sign in front of the church to say: “Celebrate Satan’s Birthday with them, or God’s triumph with us.” So the year after that, Vina made the theme Satan’s Birthday Party and everybody came as a demon and had to bring a present. It was pretty hilarious. Mo won that year. He came as himself. Get it? Cause he’s a lawyer…”

Aubrey chuckled.

“Who won the Gods and Goddesses?” She asked.

“Vina. She went as Shiva with all the extra arms. It was pretty amazing. We had a lot of good ones that year. We had Zeus and a couple of naked cupids… Erma, Germaine, and Betty went as Cerberus, which was kinda cheating since he was a dog, not a god, but they still won best group.”

“And who did you go as?”

Joe blushed.

“Thor,” he told her sheepishly.

“Why is that embarrassing?” She asked.

“I wore really skimpy armor and girls kept peekin’.” Aubrey just bet they had. She would have peeked herself, and she’d already seen it all.

“So what am I looking for? Are there rules?”

“Well, Vina likes the person to have made it themselves as opposed to buyin’ it, and it obviously has to go with the theme. There are only the two categories, best costume and best group costume. Oh, and if you have to ask ‘em who or what they are, they’re disqualified. We’ve only got until nine to see as many people as possible,” he warned her. “That’s when the pumpkin lighting ceremony takes place and the winners are announced.”

“Keep your eye out for anyone with a limp or a really big bruise,” she told him.

He gave her a quizzical look.

“I’ll explain later,” she promised.

As they ambled around, stopping at booths and chatting with as many people as possible, Aubrey became more and more impressed.

John was a magician, doing actual tricks, and Charlie was a fire eater, though his flames were fake. There was a human blockhead, countless acrobats, high-wire walkers, and trapeze artists. Rose was dressed as a clown and driving around in an old children’s pedal car full of stuffed comrades. Someone had made a tiny mechanical flea circus. Erma was the bearded lady, and Micejah was a sword swallower. There were contortionists and strongmen galore. Betty, with a fez shaped stool around her waist like a skirt and a fake tiny pair of legs, was a midget. Lettie and Emaline were a shoe in for the group costume award as a pair of very realistic Siamese twins. Germaine was in a red and white sequined suit with sashes over her shoulders that looked like the bullet belts worn by bandits in the wild west, except hers were full of knives. Paloma tromped along behind her merrily, looking like she had been impaled on the Wheel of Fortune.

“Knife thrower!” Joe and Aubrey realized at the same time.

Aubrey hated to do it, since she knew it was probably expected of her, but she felt like she would have to give the best costume prize to Vina. There was simply no one who could compare with the Fat Lady. Vina had somehow contrived to make even her face, normally skeletal and sunken, plump and jowly. They roamed around until nine, but no matter how hard she tried, she could find anyone with a better costume.

Drake decided he didn’t mind his costume after all. Once he got past the initial discomfort, he stopped trying to shake his mane off every time Aubrey turned her back and instead focused on being cute and mooching popcorn and half-eaten hot dogs from his many admirers.

At nine, the creepy calliope music cut off abruptly and was replaced with a booming male voice.

“Come one! Come all! To the greatest show on Earth!”

“Isn’t that copyright infringement?” Aubrey asked Joe.

He shrugged.

A huge press of people began to flow from the tents and games along the midway out toward the back yard. Joe pulled Aubrey over to the side, so she wouldn’t get jostled.

“Let’s take a short cut,” he told her, heading for the front porch. He helped her up the steps and through the front door. Inside, the house was blissfully quiet.

“We got a few minutes before everyone gets out there,” he told her and helped her down into one of the big, deep chairs in the living room. Aubrey sighed with relief. Drake flopped onto the floor by her feet and rolled onto his back, legs pointed straight up.

“He’ll never eat Alpo again,” Joe warned her, dropping onto the sofa. He pulled off his helmet and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair.

“Jeeze, it was hot in that thing,” he told her. “Every year I’m either too hot or too cold.”

“Maybe next year you should go as Goldilocks,” she told him.