Murder at the Art & Craft Fair (6 page)

Chapter Ten

After eating our lunch and giving it time to head off
on its journey, we pushed ourselves to our feet and ambled off to check off the
last thirty booths. Since it was well past noon by this point and an afternoon
nap sounded better with each additional step, we decided to take in the last
thirty booths without waiting on a bench after the first fifteen for the girls
to catch up. We’d passed only a couple of booths when I ran into another
exhibitor who sold one of my two weaknesses. This time it was another
photographer, Roger Ballard from Versailles, Kentucky, not an author. Lou and I
stopped to look over his handiwork, and I left with two of his creations. One
was a photograph of two horses. The other was a waterfall. He also had a morning
shot taken at Yosemite, the one in California, not the one in Kentucky, and an
ocean shot that interested me too, but a policeman has only so many walls on
which to hang photographs. I gave the man the rest of my life savings and Lou
and I trudged on, anxious to stay ahead of the girls, who were probably buying
who knows what.

We continued to look at more of the same things we had
already seen that day until we came to something a little different. The sign
said, Tom Kincaid, 3-D Wooden Puzzles, Murray, Kentucky.

“Where’s Murray?” I asked.

When he told me, I said, “You’re a long way from
home.”

He informed me that the Hilldale show is a good one
for him each year, one of five fall shows he does in our neck of the woods. He
informed me that he also did shows in Winchester, Danville, Midway, and Berea.
When I learned that there were other shows in our part of the state, I cringed,
until I learned that each of the other shows had already taken place. I was
heartbroken. He told me that it also allowed him to get away from his wife, who
was jealous and once she came to a show an hour away looking for him, thinking
that he was off with some woman instead of off selling his wares. I laughed
when he said that. He said the twelve shows he does each year allows him the
only peace he gets, since he and his wife didn’t have any children and she was
always complaining about something. At shows, he was respected. At home, he was
not.

The conversation turned from his married life to his
creative talent, and my mouth actually flew open as I looked closely at his
work and he explained it to us. He had wooden puzzles of every kind. Some small
and inexpensive, something a child could tackle. Others large and complex,
puzzles that could frustrate even someone like Lou, who has loved putting
together jigsaw puzzles since he was a kid.

“See, each piece locks into the pieces next to it,
regardless of how many pieces the puzzle contains, or the shape of the puzzle.”

He picked up one of his creations and shook it to show
us that it wouldn’t come apart. I couldn’t believe that some of his puzzles
were spherical while others were pyramids or cubes. All of the puzzles were
already put together, and I was amazed that none of them, regardless of shape,
fell apart when he shook then, or even when they sat displayed on a table.

“Look at this.”

He removed a piece from one of the puzzles. All the
other pieces remained intact.

“Some of the small square puzzles have only ten or
twelve pieces. Some of these big ones have hundreds of pieces. While there is
definitely a difference between the degree of difficulty in putting together
one of my small puzzles to completing one of my larger more complex puzzles, I
did build in a cheating mechanism, so to speak. See, here, each puzzle piece
has a number on it, on the inside, where you can’t see it when the puzzle is
put together. All of the inside pieces are numbered on two sides. Some people
don’t look at the numbers, because they want solving it, so to speak, to be as
complicated as possible. Others are more easily frustrated, and while you can’t
know exactly where Piece 10 goes, you know that somewhere it connects both to
Piece 9 and Piece 11. And of course no two pieces are the same.”

Lou and I talked for a few minutes until we saw The
Shopping Network closing in on us. There is no way that two men should shop
slowly enough that two experienced, shopping women should catch up with them,
so we needed to move on. But Lou and I were so impressed that both of us bought
a puzzle to take home and play with, when our work wasn’t frustrating us
enough. My selection was a replica of the Empire State Building. It stood
approximately four feet tall and Kincaid told me it was one of his best
sellers. I knew I had good taste. Lou opted for a puzzle that seemed even
harder to me. His was a globe, which Kincaid told us was ten-and-a-half inches
in diameter, and had a lot of inside pieces.

+++

A few minutes later, with the Empire State Building
standing at my feet and obstructing my view, Lou and I plopped down on a bench,
each of us waiting for the love of his life. I looked around for someone to
give me a sticker that read, “I Survived the Hilldale Art & Craft Fair,”
but I couldn’t find any such person. I wondered if I had enough strength to
make it back to the car, and then I remembered that I’d promised Jennifer I
would buy her something. That is if there was still something out there that
she hadn’t already purchased for herself.

As Lou and I sat there a little girl walked up to us
and pointed to my puzzle.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a puzzle.”

She laughed. “What is it really?”

“It’s a 3-D puzzle.”

“It looks like a statue that you broke and tried to
put back together.”

I decided it was time for me to gain the upper hand.

“What’s your name?”

“Kotty Dree.”

“That’s an unusual name.”

“It’s really not my name, but I couldn’t say my real
name when I was little, and I pronounced my name Kotty Dree.”

The girl looked like she was three or four years old.
I wondered how old she was when she was little. The pretty little girl with
long, pretty, curly hair continued.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, but since my
mommy is standing there looking at you and will hit you over the head if you
try to grab me, I guess it’s okay to talk to you.”

“Actually, I’m policeman. It’s okay to talk to a
policeman.”

“My mommy says it’s not nice to lie.”

“Did you lie?”

“No, you did. You said you’re a policeman. You don’t
even got a uniform.”

“That’s because I’m a special policeman.”

“Oh, that splains it."

“It does.”

“Yeah, my friend has a sister who’s in a special class
at school. My mommy said that’s for people who can’t do the real work. Is he a
special policeman, too?”

The little girl pointed at Lou, who was doing his best
to hide his grin.

“He’s even more special than I am.”

“He looks it. Can he talk?”

“Not so anyone can understand him.”

The little girl walked over and patted Lou on the
knee. “Poor special policeman.” The little girl turned and noticed that her
mother was ready to leave, something I had been praying would happen for the
last minute or so. “Well, I gotta go now. And I hope someone can fix your
broken statue.”

Lou and I were about to discuss which of us was the
most special when I noticed the girls we came with were heading toward us. They
looked invigorated as they marched toward us. Jennifer had only a couple of new
trinkets, but Thelma Lou arrived carrying a large pyramid puzzle she had
purchased for Lou. I hated to get ahead of him on our reading list, so maybe
when he was working on his second puzzle Jennifer and I could be locking lips.
Of course, since Lou was more skilled in constructing puzzles than I was, I
figured he might be able to put together both of his puzzles and still come
over and help me finish the top twenty floors of my skyscraper.

I am a man of my word, so I turned to Jennifer and
asked, “Well, what did you see that you want me to buy for you?”

She gave me the standard, “You don’t have to buy me
anything, Cy,” before giving me an answer I would have dreaded to hear before
I’d arrived, but welcomed at that moment.

“Why don’t we go home and think about it and come back
tomorrow for a while after church?”

+++

I don’t know if Jennifer and Thelma Lou were more
tired than they let on or if they felt sorry for Lou and me, but they suggested
that Lou and I go home and take naps and come back to pick them up at 6:00.
Going home was a little more difficult than it sounded. I was thankful that
Lou’s trunk was empty except for a hidden spare tire and an emergency kit when
we arrived at the art and craft fair, because it was full when we rode home.
Besides that, both Jennifer and I had to hold some of our purchases on the way
home, and there were more purchases at Thelma Lou’s feet. It took only a few
minutes to get to Thelma Lou’s house, where Lou and I got out and helped the
girls carry their purchases into the house. Because there were four of us, it
took only one trip each to accomplish this. The pyramid puzzle that Thelma Lou
bought for Lou never made it to her house. She figured there was no need for
that. I didn’t bother to fish out the scarf I bought for Jennifer. I would give
it to her when we returned in a couple of hours. Since my purchases and Lou’s
were almost the same, all that mattered when we got to my house was that I got
one of everything except for the puzzles. While I did take one of the puzzles,
I made sure that I picked up the one that I had bought. I considered trying to
put a few pieces together to see if it frustrated me. If I liked it, I could
purchase another puzzle the next day. Then, thoughts of a nap pushed working a
puzzle out of my mind. I figured if I was that fascinated by those puzzles I
could borrow Lou’s two when he wasn’t working them, and I could loan him the
one I bought. Lou helped me carry everything I’d bought into the house, but because
things had changed next-door we were not accosted by my neighbor or her ball of
fur. Even if she had rushed me, at least on one trip I had my Empire State
Building to use as a battering ram. Its maker had told me that it would hold
together under fire. Well, maybe not fire, but under attack. I merely hoped
that I would not have to find that out.

Chapter
Eleven

The number of drive-in theaters across the country is
dwindling each year, and although there is still a drive-in theater within a
reasonable driving distance of most people in Kentucky, most of them close
after Labor Day weekend or sometime close to that. While the drive-in closest
to us no longer stays open year around the way it used to during the heyday of
drive-ins, it does stay open until mid-November, which is important if you want
to go to the drive-in on an early October night. Also, every other weekend’s
fare is made up of old movies, and this was the classic movie weekend. The
drive-in decided to devote both October classic movie weekends to something
that might get people in the mood for Halloween. On this the first of those two
weekends, they were showing a couple of William Castle directed features,
House
on Haunted Hill
and
Homicidal,
and even though both features were
approximately fifty years old, both movies were designed to make you hold your
date a little closer. I had no problem with that.

On the way home from the art and craft fair I’d
noticed that Jennifer did indeed wear jewelry, and I thought of that again when
Lou and I arrived and I noticed that she was no longer wearing any. I chalked
that up to the fact that a necklace or earrings could easily catch on my shirt
during a Kodak moment at the drive-in, and smiled. But thinking of it did
remind me to ask Jennifer to take a list to the drive-in of possible gifts I
could buy her the next day when we returned to the downtown event.

+++

It gets darker earlier in October than it does in
June, even though it is still Daylight Savings Time, and Lou and I were serious
about getting a spot near the back of the drive-in. We also wanted to be close
to the concession stand, because after taking a vote, it was unanimous that we
continue to eat something our doctors would not recommend, but only on that
weekend, and another weekend in the distant future. There were only a handful
of cars when we arrived at the drive-in, and most of those had chosen to park
near the front and the playground equipment or close to the concession stand.
Only one other car had parked on the back row, and Lou pulled into a spot near
the middle of that row. We got out of the car to check out what the concession
stand had to offer, as if we were expecting something new, or anticipated
listening to someone tell us about the chef’s specials. One look behind me told
me that we wouldn’t be all that alone. While October temperatures can
fluctuate, this particular night was comfortable, but that probably didn’t
matter to the two boys hiding out in the trees behind the drive-in, waiting to
see a couple of scary movies for free. I wondered how many other freeloaders
would arrive to watch the movies under cover of those trees. I also wondered if
a drive-in employee would walk the grounds to discourage this practice.

We stalked off to claim our grubstake, or was it
merely our grub? A few minutes later, the four of us returned, all of us loaded
down with hot dogs, potato chips, popcorn, pizza, soft drinks, and candy bars.
After we polished off all of that, we’d consider a return trip to pick up some
ice cream bars. I had a feeling that my Wii wouldn’t recognize me on Monday
morning. I knew it would shout at me and call me obese, but I was used to that.
I wondered if some day I could lose enough weight that it would merely call me
fat, or overweight.

While we ate, Jennifer used her index finger to remove
a dab of mustard from the edge of my mouth and reposition it on the tip of my
nose. Immediately, I leaned forward to rub noses with her, and she laughed. I
took advantage of the situation and gently pressed my lips to hers. I concluded
that going to the drive-in with her exceeded any previous drive-in memories
with Lou. Lou and I never put our lips together, and the last time we shared
the back seat at the drive-in was when either his parents or my parents took us
to the drive-in when we were young.

After the four of us polished off a pepperoni pizza,
which followed the hot dogs and chips, we slowed down and settled back, fluffed
our pillows, so to speak. Jennifer dipped her hand into the popcorn bag and
motioned for me to scoot away from her. Then she tossed a kernel of popcorn at
me, which I tried to catch in my mouth. It bounced off my upper lip, and I
grabbed it as it bounded off my shirt. I stuffed it in my mouth. It had been
quite some time since I had eaten only one kernel of popcorn at a time. I
grabbed the popcorn bag from Jennifer, selected one popped kernel and aimed for
her open mouth. She snapped at it like a turtle, but was no more successful
than I. We continued to take turns until Lou, without turning around, said, “Whoever
gets popcorn all over my car has to clean it up.” Some people are just no fun.

After we finished eating and cleaning up, and I had
wiped my hands on a napkin and followed that with a wet nap, I reached down to
the floorboard in front of the back seat, plucked a bag and handed it to
Jennifer. Realizing that it was much too large to hold an engagement ring, she
opened it to find the scarf I had bought for her. She wrapped it around my neck
and hers, and then reeled me in. This caused Lou to part lips from Thelma Lou
long enough to say, “No P.D.A.” as he pointed at the contingent of boys who
were a mere thirty feet or so away from us, and were watching the show that
preceded the movie. That was okay. It would be dark soon. I received a short
wish list from Jennifer which contained a few inexpensive items she might like,
but I was negligent when she requested a similar list from me. She asked me
what I’d bought for myself that day, and after taking a moment to backtrack
down three aisles of booths, I told about the books, the photographs, and the
puzzle I’d purchased. My list was followed by a comment of “Men” from her,
which she followed up by saying, “I think you bought more than I did.” I
remembered each trip to Lou’s car to deliver each row of purchases, and
responded by saying, “No, Dear, I think your stuff weighed three more pounds
than mine.”

+++

Darkness arrived, and after a dissertation from the
movie screen on all the delicacies that the concession stand had to offer, and
previews of movies to come during the rest of the month,
House on Haunted
Hill
burst upon the screen, complete with an introduction from William
Castle, who was trying to imitate Alfred Hitchcock, minus his distinctive
voice.
House on Haunted Hill
starred one of the best actors at being
campy, Vincent Price, whose character paid people $50,000 to spend a night in a
house where murders had taken place. The movie had all the elements of a
classic haunted house tale, but never took itself too seriously.
Homicidal
was
Castle’s tribute to Alfred Hitchcock’s
Psycho,
only it contained more
than one disturbed person. I found one elderly woman to be quite a hoot with
all of her knocking. Well, she couldn’t talk, and she had to express her
opinions some way.

While both movies were campy, the four of us found
them quite entertaining, and ended up watching the movies a lot more than we
had expected. And Lou and I dashed back to the concession stand between movies
to pick up four ice cream bars. And yes, Jennifer and I did take care of any stray
ice cream that might have taken up residence on each other’s mouths. At least
it was dark enough that we were no longer being spied on by any little boys who
thought our practice gross. Who knows? Maybe those boys were scared away by
some of the movie’s content, or their parents had found out where they were.
But then, their parents could have been there, too, twelve trees down, or in a
steamed up car.

Both movies were short by today’s standards. Short
compared to some of the movies back then, too. That allowed us to exit the
drive-in the same day we entered it, which isn’t always the case. When
Homicidal
ended in time for us to get Cinderella home before her coach turned into a
pumpkin, we joined in the procession of headlights beating a hasty retreat from
the drive-in. No one had fallen asleep. At least no one in Lou’s car. And so we
talked all the way home about the two movies and the fun time we had had that
day. Morning would arrive far too soon, and church not long after that. As I
looked ahead to Sunday, I anticipated a shorter version of Saturday’s jaunt
through the art and craft fair, stopping only at the booths that fascinated us
and only long enough to purchase a few items and take in the festivities. If I
had time before church, I planned to put together a few of the pieces of my
Empire State Building puzzle to see if I wanted to purchase a second puzzle on
Sunday, or if I would borrow Lou’s if one puzzle wasn’t enough to frustrate me.

As I thought ahead to Sunday, I figured that by
mid-afternoon we would leave Hilldale City Park and go to Thelma Lou’s and hang
out for a while. Thelma Lou had already offered to cook for all of us on Sunday
night. Jennifer wasn’t leaving to go home until Monday morning. I figured the
two of us would have a more leisurely time together on Sunday. I figured wrong.