Miss Dimple Rallies to the Cause (11 page)

Elaine reached across the table and grasped her hand. “After that they’ll get their wings and be commissioned. They’ll go where they’re sent.”

They’ll go where they’re sent.
Those words occupied her thoughts all the way back to Atlanta. Mr. and Mrs. Martin were a pleasant couple and kind enough to offer her a ride, so Charlie tried to keep up with the conversation. In addition to their daughter in college, the Martins had a son who was in his last year of high school and eager to enlist in the military.

“He’s only seventeen,” his mother said, “and I’m not giving my permission for him to take that step just yet. I’m hoping the war will be over soon and he’ll be able to go on to college.”

Her husband, Charlie noticed, reached over and patted his wife’s hand. Charlie knew that he knew this war wasn’t going to be over anytime soon.

*   *   *

The week ahead was a whirlwind of planning for the approaching War Bond Rally and rehearsing for the entertainment afterward, but it didn’t take long for the news of Charlie’s engagement to spread like sunrise over the little town.

“I knew it! I just
knew
it!” Annie said when Charlie telephoned her Sunday night. After sharing her news with her family, Charlie couldn’t wait until the next day to tell her friend about the most glorious night of her life.

“You aren’t going to get married and leave us, are you?”

“You should know better than that! Your own brother’s an air cadet. Is
Joel
getting married anytime soon?”

Annie laughed. “Joel Gardner won’t even settle on a steady girlfriend. But you and Will…”

“What about Will and me?” Charlie asked.

“I wasn’t sure if you two would be able to wait that long,” Annie teased.

“Who says you have to wait?”

“Charlie, you
didn’t
?”
Annie’s words came in gasps. “
Oh, my gosh, you
did,
didn’t you?”

“For heaven’s sake, of course we didn’t. It would have been kind of awkward with another couple along—but it’s not that I didn’t think of it,” Charlie admitted.

Annie giggled. “I’ll bet Will thought of it, too.”

“If he didn’t, there must be something wrong with him, and I’m pretty sure there’s not. Damn it, Annie, this war just isn’t convenient at all!”

*   *   *

When Miss Dimple arrived at the library early the day of the rally to sell tickets for the evening’s entertainment they were calling
Home Front Follies,
the whole town of Elderberry was a corridor of red, white, and blue. Flags lined the main streets of town, and posters were plastered in every store window. Reynolds Murphy displayed a mannequin in an army uniform outside the five-and-ten. A sign on the box of small American flags on a table beside him read,
Wave one for me!
and were to be given to the children who came to watch the parade later that day.

At the library, Virginia was in such a frenzy, poor Cattus had taken refuge under a boxwood behind the chimney and refused to come back inside. “I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am to see you, Dimple!” she began. “People have been coming in to buy tickets for the follies since I opened the door this morning, the children are due soon for story hour, and then there are those who want to check out books.”

“I’ll gather the children on the porch for story time. Thank goodness the weather’s nice and we can set up a table out there for ticket sales,” Miss Dimple assured her. “Isn’t Buddy supposed to be helping with that?”

“Called earlier and said he was giving them a hand restringing the banner across Court Street as it had blown down during the night,” Virginia said. “He’ll be here later if you don’t mind filling in until then.” She stamped a copy of
Miss Minerva and William Green Hill
for Willie Elrod, who was already dressed in his Scout uniform for the parade that afternoon. “This is about the third time you’ve read this, isn’t it, Willie? Wouldn’t you like to try something else?”

But Willie shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not tired of this one yet.”

“I’ve always liked that book, too, but I think I know of another one you’ll enjoy as well.” Miss Dimple quickly scanned a shelf in the children’s section and pulled out a copy of
Treasure Island
. “Let me know what you think when you finish reading it,” she said, giving the book to Virginia to stamp.

Willie looked doubtful. “I dunno … what’s it about?”

“Oh, things like pirates, and treasure, and a boy not much older than you,” Miss Dimple said.

“Really?” Willie shoved the two books under his arm and hurried out the door, but she noticed he got only as far as the front steps before he sat down to leaf through it.

She settled the smaller children at the far end of the rustic front porch shaded by wisteria vines from the morning sun and read to them about Goldilocks and Snow White, as well as several of her favorite selections from
A Child’s Garden of Verses.
By the time the last little person had been collected, a line of people had assembled to purchase tickets for
Home Front Follies.

“Coach McGregor tells me he’s to be one of the bridesmaids,” Louise Willingham said as she bought a ticket for the show. She laughed. “Thank goodness Ed doesn’t have to wear a dress as father of the bride. Pastels wouldn’t flatter him at all.”

“Did Ed ever find his missing shotgun?” Miss Dimple asked, tossing Lou’s fifty cents into a metal box.

Lou shook her head. “No, and I can’t imagine what could’ve happened to it. Jesse Dean says he saw it last on the prop table and they’ve searched every inch of the backstage area. Reynolds Murphy gave him a BB gun from the dime store to use as a substitute, but that shotgun was special to Ed. It was a gift from his father.”

Miss Dimple said she certainly hoped they would find it and began to tear off tickets for the next in line. The cast of the womanless wedding as well as the other characters scheduled for tonight’s performance were a diversified assortment. She was sure the entertainment of the evening would be well worth the price of the ticket and was looking forward to a few hours of sheer frivolity, but yet …
that annoying sense that things were not as they should be still nagged at her, and
s
he just couldn’t put her finger on it.

*   *   *

Phoebe Chadwick stood with others from her rooming house with the crowd of people lining the streets to watch the parade. The afternoon was hot and the sun showed no mercy, but she was glad that at least it hadn’t rained. Across the street, her cook, Odessa Kirby, waited with her husband, Bob Robert, under the shelter of an awning in front of the hardware store, and Phoebe wished she had thought to stand on the shady side of the street. Bob Robert’s niece, Violet, would be marching in the parade with the band from the colored high school, and they had been looking forward to this all week. It was a given that they could outplay, outmarch, and outstrut their white counterparts at Elderberry High, and the group received cheers of applause whenever they appeared.

A few minutes later Lou Willingham and her sister, Jo, pushing her little grandson in a carriage, made their way through the crowd to a spot beside the Kirbys and acknowledged Phoebe with a wave. Lou’s husband, Ed, would be in the parade with the cast of the womanless wedding, and Charlie and her sister, Delia, along with Annie and several others, planned to ride on a float promoting the follies.

Beside her Lily Moss dabbed her face with a pink-embroidered hankie. “I do hope this isn’t going to last long! I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody didn’t have a heatstroke in this sun.”

“For heaven’s sake, Lily! I told you not to wear that sweater. It must be close to eighty out here.” Velma Anderson, who shared a room with Lily, dug in her purse and brought out a folded bulletin from the Methodist church, which she passed along for her roommate to use as a fan. Although flushed, Velma looked comfortable enough in her trim gingham dress, and Phoebe herself was glad she had thought to wear light summer clothing.

Much against her wishes, Dimple had been assigned a seat on a platform in front of the courthouse with the mayor and several other dignitaries, as that was where the rally was to take place. Phoebe looked around for Sebastian and found him conversing with Bessie Jenkins beside Murphy’s Five and Ten.

Flags waved, and excited children wove through the crowd of people who milled about, calling and waving to one another. A shout went up as they heard in the distance the measured beat of a drum, and onlookers pressed forward to get a glimpse of the soldiers in the Georgia Home Guard who would lead the parade. The uniformed volunteer group was made up of those who were either too young or too old for military service and would be responsible for defending the town if the need arose.

So many familiar faces. Phoebe Chadwick looked about.
Was it one of them? Someone she knew, had known most of her life? Which of these innocent-seeming bystanders was sending the malicious reminders that were making her life miserable?

C
HAPTER
T
EN

It was there! Just as expected. Inside the old Prince Albert tobacco tin concealed behind a loose brick in the corner of the wall were three tightly folded ten-dollar bills and a note that read:
Who are you and why are you doing this? Please leave me alone! I can’t give you any more.

But there
was
more where that came from, so why shouldn’t it be shared? The empty tin went back into its hiding place to wait for the next collection. And what a convenient find this place was! The wall surrounded an abandoned house on a backstreet of the town where few people ever went. There were no neighbors to pry; children were afraid of the deserted old place because they thought it was haunted; and today just about everybody would be at the parade.

In a few days, just when Phoebe Chadwick would begin to think it was all behind her, she would receive another reminder.

*   *   *

“Annie, what’s wrong? Is Emmaline on the warpath again?” Charlie hurried to find her place on the float near the front of the parade route. As Goldilocks she wore a white apron borrowed from the high-school home-economics department over a baby blue dress Bessie had quickly stitched together and a huge ribbon in her hair. She looked as ridiculous as she felt, but Annie didn’t smile.

“Frazier’s being shipped out.” Annie made room for her next to Delia, who dangled her legs from the flatbed truck and was wearing a red and white striped nightshirt with matching cap and fuzzy slippers for her part as Sleeping Beauty.

“Oh, Annie, I’m sorry! Where? When? Will you be able to see him before he leaves?” Still intoxicated with joy from her brief time with Will, Charlie felt her friend’s disappointment even more sharply.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t know—or at least he’s not telling. He’s supposed to call me soon, so maybe I’ll know more then.” Annie made a face and groaned. “Double, double, toil and trouble…”

“Uh-oh, don’t look now, but here comes your friend the deputy,” Delia whispered.

H. G. Dobbins hurried to the float in front of theirs while tugging a lilac ruffled dress over his head, and stopped to speak to Annie. “Guess I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “Maybe we can go somewhere for a Coke or something afterward.”

Annie’s face tightened. “I don’t think so,” she began. “I’m sorry, I have…”

But giving a hasty wave, Deputy Dobbins lifted his skirts, climbed on the float ahead, and found his place just as the truck jerked to a start.

*   *   *

Miss Dimple was relieved to find her seat was at the rear of the platform between Buddy Oglesby and Alma Owens, who was slated to sing “America the Beautiful,” which happened to be one of Dimple’s favorite songs. She hoped that just this once, Alma would stay on key. Virginia had confided that when Alma learned she was to be in charge of the rally, Alma had pestered her until she finally agreed to let her take part in the program.

Virginia shared the front row with the mayor, who had somehow managed to find a stovepipe hat in patriotic colors; the Baptist minister who would give the invocation; and a minor representative from the War Finance Committee, looking most uncomfortable in suit and tie. Behind them, Emmaline Brumlow, as chairman of the evening’s entertainment, sat next to the proud color guard from Elderberry’s Boy Scout Troop 39. Virginia, who disliked speaking in public, had confessed to her friend earlier that she had fortified herself with a generous glass of homemade muscadine wine in advance of the formalities. Dimple hoped the Baptist minister wouldn’t notice.

Dimple shifted her chair a few inches to take advantage of the shade provided by a redbud tree on the courthouse lawn, noticing that the ladies of the Cherokee Rose Garden Club had planted the area around it with vibrant yellow chrysanthemums. Beside her, Buddy held on his lap the satchel that held change for today’s sale of bonds and stamps. Miss Dimple kept a hand on her yarn-garnished handbag containing the change she would need for those who wanted tickets for
Home Front Follies
she intended to sell at the end of the ceremonies that afternoon.

She could hardly help noticing Buddy’s glancing constantly from right to left as if he expected to be ambushed at any second. He was a tall, gangling man whose spasmodic foot tapping and nervous habit of cracking his knuckles were beginning to be most annoying. Tempted to reach over and give the poor fellow a reassuring pat, Dimple was relieved when the Home Guard, followed by the high school band, turned the corner into Court Street with all instruments blaring “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” This was followed by a float carrying the cast of the womanless wedding dressed in all their finery and a decorated truck filled with several others who would take part in the show, including many of the high school dancers.

Shouts, cheers, laughter, and whistles greeted the marchers, and Miss Dimple waved at members of the green-clad Girl Scouts, most of whom she had taught as first graders, and at Willie, who, in his blue and gold uniform, marched proudly at the head of the troop of younger Scouts holding the American flag.