"The gates of repentance are always open." - Pesikta of Rab Kahana, page 142.
"Our father, our king, grant unto us a new year of happiness." - Evening service for the new year. The Union Prayer Book for Jewish Worship, 1945
Widowed Bella Mykoff Silverman and her recently divorced daughter, Janet Silverman Jones, were members of the dwindling Jewish community of Cole, descendants of much larger group who had immigrated to the area in the late 1800s and established businesses, homes, and a few synagogues which, sadly, were either falling into disrepair, or had closed, their contents having been donated either to other synagogues or to a camp in Utica, Mississippi. It was always of interest to "Yankee" tourists that there were any Jews in Mississippi, but the surviving group who remained in the Cole area were a hardworking, humorous, generally happy community. No racism existed between them and other white skinned people of the area though, unfortunately, some of the old timers still held on to outdated segregationist attitudes when it came to blacks who, for the most part, had served both Gentiles and Jews in subservient roles.
Bella'a parents owned, for many years, the only drugstore in town, across the street from their beautiful Victorian house.
When she turned eighteen, Bella married Sam Silverman, and they took over the store. Sam was "no stranger to the bottle," as the old saying goes, and it wasn't long beforre Bella had to hire extra help, then, finally, sell the store. Not long after Janet was born, Sam died. With help and determination, though, Bella maintained her natural beauty and wits, and held on to her property.
From the start, Janet was spoiled. She was the pride and joy of Bella, who, every afternoon, rolled her child around in a stroller, up and down the streets of Cole.
Fortunately, Janet had a sharp mind, and was an outstanding student. When Janet was fifteen, Bella inherited a fortune from a cousin in New York, and invested some of this money in Janet's education at a California university. After her graduation, janet landed a teaching position in a Los Angeles high school.
In 1961, Janet came home for the summer and was soon followed by a tall, dark marine by the name of William Jones. Within weeks, their engagement was announced.
Minor repairs were made to the crumbling old synagogue, and the reception was held in the palatial antebellum home of a family friend, The Oaks. Much todo and fesitvity surrounded the wedding.
After the wedding, Janet and William returned to California.
In June, 1963, after having given birth to a girl, Carrie, Janet phoned Bella, telling her the marriage was all over. Sadly, Janet returned to Cole several weeks later.
Now, Bella, Janet, and little Carrie lived in their restored Main Street home, and were close and happy, though Bella's occasional berating of Janet for this and that, and Janet's heavy smoking gave a puzzling impression to those who didn't know them that well. Bella and Janet, in a way, looked after each other.
Janet taught at Cole High School for two years, but grew tired of teaching. She was now a deputy clerk, and quite satisfied with that job.
Whenever there was a social event in Cole, Janet and Bella usually attended together. Janet talked continuously, and Bella always seemed to be around to keep things on an even keel.
Janet had a relatively quiet social life, though. Her closest friend was a short, handsome, distant cousin named Harry Kahn.
Harry was thirty two, and, like his brother, David, had inherited both a family clothing store and some valuable property which included the palatial old house they shared. They took turns minding the store, but also played a lot of golf, and were fond of parties.
After Fifi's funeral, which Harry attended with Bella and the weeping Janet, the three went to the home of Lu Heidenrich, a close friend, for lunch.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 14
Fifi's funeral was Wednesday morning at eleven o clock.
An air of shock and gloom prevailed in Cole.
Fifi's few close friends made cakes and coffee, and helped Jim receive callers.
Many visitors came to the house from Sunday afternoon until Tuesday evening.
Janie was feeling tired and low when she finally got to bed, but managed to appear attractive and fresh.
Jim was, in no way, scared of what might have been said, or what was being said of their separation and Fifi's death. In his mind, Fifi was at fault in every way for her condition. He did, however, feel heartbroken beyond words, and knew he'd probably never get over it.
Wednesday broke cloudy. At seven thirty, Jim awoke, showered, and was in the process of getting dressed when the telephone rang.
"Jim," Janie said, in a depressed voice. "I'm so tired! I just don't think I can make it to the funeral. I'm going to call Taylor Baker or Martin Roberts about a checkup."
"That's perfectly allright, Janie," Jim assured. "You've gone beyond the call of duty, anyway. Matter of fact, as you've probably figured out by now, I'm not staying in Cole. As soon as I can
get a few things straightened out, I'm leaving this nosy town! Without Fifi, life will never be the same. We had our problems, but she just couldn't get hold of hers without all that drink and stuff. This has been a hard decision for me, but I'm selling our property here and moving away."
"Good for you!" Janie congratulated. "I have confidence in you, Jim. I sincerely believe you can start a whole new life elsewhere."
"I'm glad you agree, Janie. Now, be sure to call a doctor and have him look at you!"
"I'm sure it's nothing but exhaustion."
"Thanks again, Janie," Jim concluded. "I'll be in contact with you about helping me go through some of Fifi's things."
The threat of rain loomed every minute of the funeral, which began in the chapel of the Glenn Funeral Home, with burial following in an old family cemetery about a mile from Cole. Only several of Fifi's family had been buried there, but Jim had heard her say, more than once, that she wanted to be buried there.
At approximately eleven thirty, about twenty cars, lights on, followed the Glenn hearse to the cemetery.
There were only four people in the special family seats: Jim; Mark Engle; family cousins Norman and Margaret Acker.
All Jim could think about during the funeral was what he was going to do when he left Cole.
As everyone was leaving the burial ground, several couldn't help hearing one voice in particular that sobbed and carried above all other moans and groans.
"Shut up, Janet," Bella Silverman said to her equally Jewish daughter, "before I slap your face!"
An air of shock and gloom prevailed in Cole.
Fifi's few close friends made cakes and coffee, and helped Jim receive callers.
Many visitors came to the house from Sunday afternoon until Tuesday evening.
Janie was feeling tired and low when she finally got to bed, but managed to appear attractive and fresh.
Jim was, in no way, scared of what might have been said, or what was being said of their separation and Fifi's death. In his mind, Fifi was at fault in every way for her condition. He did, however, feel heartbroken beyond words, and knew he'd probably never get over it.
Wednesday broke cloudy. At seven thirty, Jim awoke, showered, and was in the process of getting dressed when the telephone rang.
"Jim," Janie said, in a depressed voice. "I'm so tired! I just don't think I can make it to the funeral. I'm going to call Taylor Baker or Martin Roberts about a checkup."
"That's perfectly allright, Janie," Jim assured. "You've gone beyond the call of duty, anyway. Matter of fact, as you've probably figured out by now, I'm not staying in Cole. As soon as I can
get a few things straightened out, I'm leaving this nosy town! Without Fifi, life will never be the same. We had our problems, but she just couldn't get hold of hers without all that drink and stuff. This has been a hard decision for me, but I'm selling our property here and moving away."
"Good for you!" Janie congratulated. "I have confidence in you, Jim. I sincerely believe you can start a whole new life elsewhere."
"I'm glad you agree, Janie. Now, be sure to call a doctor and have him look at you!"
"I'm sure it's nothing but exhaustion."
"Thanks again, Janie," Jim concluded. "I'll be in contact with you about helping me go through some of Fifi's things."
The threat of rain loomed every minute of the funeral, which began in the chapel of the Glenn Funeral Home, with burial following in an old family cemetery about a mile from Cole. Only several of Fifi's family had been buried there, but Jim had heard her say, more than once, that she wanted to be buried there.
At approximately eleven thirty, about twenty cars, lights on, followed the Glenn hearse to the cemetery.
There were only four people in the special family seats: Jim; Mark Engle; family cousins Norman and Margaret Acker.
All Jim could think about during the funeral was what he was going to do when he left Cole.
As everyone was leaving the burial ground, several couldn't help hearing one voice in particular that sobbed and carried above all other moans and groans.
"Shut up, Janet," Bella Silverman said to her equally Jewish daughter, "before I slap your face!"
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 13
At the Cole Hospital, Fifi was in bad shape.
The apparent reason for her fall at the club was, it was determined, a bad combination of pills and alcohol.
In the lobby of the hospital stood Barlow McGee, Janie Engle, and Dr. Martin Roberts, another of the three Cole doctors.
Barlow seemed nervous. Finally, he walked to the telephone booth. He closed the door, and sat down. At first, he thought about not calling Jim, but he was one of the few people who knew where he was. Thus, he called the hotel where Jim was staying, in Natchez.
"Hello, the room of Jim Ballinger, please." He paused. Jim answered.
"Jim--hey, boy. This is your ole buddy, Barlow!"
"What the hell are you calling me for?" Jim replied. "You haven't told anybody where I am, have you?"
"Shut your mouth!" Barlow said. "I have some news that might surprise you."
"What?"
"It's about Fifi."
"Tell me!"
"Fifi passed out at the country club this afternoon. At first, we thought she was just drunk, but it turned out more serious! Jim, we're here at the Cole hospital. I suggest you come here immediately!"
"I'll get there as soon as I can, Barlow! Thanks for calling!"
Jim showered and dressed, and headed for Cole.
"I have a confession to make," Barlow said, confronting the crowd, who were now seated, all sipping coffee.
"What is it?" Janie asked.
"I've known where Jim has been all along. The morning he left, he made me swear not to tell anybody. He told me to keep an eye on Fifi."
"I'll be damned!" Dr. Roberts said. "What next!"
"I just had to tell Jim about Fifi," Barlow said. "He's been staying in Natchez, and he's on his way here right now." Addressing Janie, Barlow continued, "I know you won't tell anyone Jim's whereabouts. You know how things get out of balance in this place--stories get embellished, spread around. I'm damned tired of this little town! The ones who gossip about the wrongs of others are, actually, the most wrong!"
"Now, Barlow," Janie replied, "you know I wouldn't gossip about Fifi or Jim! Fifi's always been my dearest friend!"
"Well," Barlow said, "when he gets here, please don't say anything about Natchez. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Let him tell you."
Suddenly, one of the nurses entered the lobby. "Dr. Roberts, Mr. Anderson in room fourteen is dizzy again."
"Certainly," the doctor said, rising. He turned to Barlow and Janie. "You people going to stay here all night?"
"Night?" Janie gasped.
Dr. Roberts walked to one of the windows, opened the curtains, and revealed the darkness.
"Oh, Lord," Barlow said, "I didn't realize it was night already. I've got to get back to the club."
"I'm going on home now," Janie said. "But I sure won't get much sleep."
"We'll call you the first time there is any news," Dr. Roberts said.
"Feel free to call any time!" Janie assured.
As she was walking toward her car, Janie came face to face with Mark. They both stopped.
"Hello, Mark."
"Hi, Janie. Any more news on Fifi?"
"You needn't even go in," Janie replied. "We know nothing yet."
"Well," Mark said. "I might as well go to the snack bar. I haven't eaten all day!"
"You haven't?" a worried Janie replied.
"No. I worked overtime today--just didn't get around to it."
"Well, why don't you come by my house and I'll cook us dinner."
"Uh--I couldn't--I mean--we--," Mark continued.
"Don't argue," Janie interrupted. "If you remember anything about my cooking, you'll not leave hungry!"
"Well, I don't see how it could hurt, Miss Janie," Mark replied. "Give me a little while to go home and wash up, and I'll be there in a few minutes!"
"Fine, Mark."
As they drove home separately, Mark and Janie thought about some of the happy and sad moments of their marriage. They, in a way, were still concerned about each others well being, but realized that a permanent life together would be impossible.
At one o clock Sunday morning, everything was silent in the lobby of the Cole hospital.
Jim, sound asleep in a chair, was suddenly awakened by Dr. Roberts.
"Fifi died at twelve forty.
The apparent reason for her fall at the club was, it was determined, a bad combination of pills and alcohol.
In the lobby of the hospital stood Barlow McGee, Janie Engle, and Dr. Martin Roberts, another of the three Cole doctors.
Barlow seemed nervous. Finally, he walked to the telephone booth. He closed the door, and sat down. At first, he thought about not calling Jim, but he was one of the few people who knew where he was. Thus, he called the hotel where Jim was staying, in Natchez.
"Hello, the room of Jim Ballinger, please." He paused. Jim answered.
"Jim--hey, boy. This is your ole buddy, Barlow!"
"What the hell are you calling me for?" Jim replied. "You haven't told anybody where I am, have you?"
"Shut your mouth!" Barlow said. "I have some news that might surprise you."
"What?"
"It's about Fifi."
"Tell me!"
"Fifi passed out at the country club this afternoon. At first, we thought she was just drunk, but it turned out more serious! Jim, we're here at the Cole hospital. I suggest you come here immediately!"
"I'll get there as soon as I can, Barlow! Thanks for calling!"
Jim showered and dressed, and headed for Cole.
"I have a confession to make," Barlow said, confronting the crowd, who were now seated, all sipping coffee.
"What is it?" Janie asked.
"I've known where Jim has been all along. The morning he left, he made me swear not to tell anybody. He told me to keep an eye on Fifi."
"I'll be damned!" Dr. Roberts said. "What next!"
"I just had to tell Jim about Fifi," Barlow said. "He's been staying in Natchez, and he's on his way here right now." Addressing Janie, Barlow continued, "I know you won't tell anyone Jim's whereabouts. You know how things get out of balance in this place--stories get embellished, spread around. I'm damned tired of this little town! The ones who gossip about the wrongs of others are, actually, the most wrong!"
"Now, Barlow," Janie replied, "you know I wouldn't gossip about Fifi or Jim! Fifi's always been my dearest friend!"
"Well," Barlow said, "when he gets here, please don't say anything about Natchez. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Let him tell you."
Suddenly, one of the nurses entered the lobby. "Dr. Roberts, Mr. Anderson in room fourteen is dizzy again."
"Certainly," the doctor said, rising. He turned to Barlow and Janie. "You people going to stay here all night?"
"Night?" Janie gasped.
Dr. Roberts walked to one of the windows, opened the curtains, and revealed the darkness.
"Oh, Lord," Barlow said, "I didn't realize it was night already. I've got to get back to the club."
"I'm going on home now," Janie said. "But I sure won't get much sleep."
"We'll call you the first time there is any news," Dr. Roberts said.
"Feel free to call any time!" Janie assured.
As she was walking toward her car, Janie came face to face with Mark. They both stopped.
"Hello, Mark."
"Hi, Janie. Any more news on Fifi?"
"You needn't even go in," Janie replied. "We know nothing yet."
"Well," Mark said. "I might as well go to the snack bar. I haven't eaten all day!"
"You haven't?" a worried Janie replied.
"No. I worked overtime today--just didn't get around to it."
"Well, why don't you come by my house and I'll cook us dinner."
"Uh--I couldn't--I mean--we--," Mark continued.
"Don't argue," Janie interrupted. "If you remember anything about my cooking, you'll not leave hungry!"
"Well, I don't see how it could hurt, Miss Janie," Mark replied. "Give me a little while to go home and wash up, and I'll be there in a few minutes!"
"Fine, Mark."
As they drove home separately, Mark and Janie thought about some of the happy and sad moments of their marriage. They, in a way, were still concerned about each others well being, but realized that a permanent life together would be impossible.
At one o clock Sunday morning, everything was silent in the lobby of the Cole hospital.
Jim, sound asleep in a chair, was suddenly awakened by Dr. Roberts.
"Fifi died at twelve forty.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 12
Meanwhile, Taylor and Ginger were getting nowhere with what Taylor had intended to be a reconcilation talk. Every time they would start to talk, the conversation always ended up on the subject of Marie. Ginger could not help but feel that Taylor's fun was not over.
"Are you sure you're not giving her any money?" Ginger asked.
"I told you, I'm through with her!" Taylor snapped back. "Please believe me--I'm through with her!"
"How many times had you been with her before I caught you the other night?"
"One or two."
"I don't believe that!"
"You want me to call Marie? You can talk to her yourself!"
"That's the last thing I want to do!"
"What have the children been saying?"
Ginger said nothing.
"Okay, Ginger," Taylor said. "You and I both know what happened. I messed up. Let's get this out in the open. Do you want us to stay together?"
"You'll get visitation rights, of course, but I don't think we belong together any more!" Ginger replied. "We haven't really been right for each other for some time. Maybe ther'll come a day we'll feel differently, but I don't think that'll be any time soon."
"Yep!" Taylor, his face reddening, said. "It's like it's always been--you say, 'we,' and you mean, 'you.' You always wanted to make the decisions about everything. You had to do this, you had to do that. I--"
"Good thing we met out here in separate cars," Ginger concluded, as she walked toward hers, and out of Taylor Baker's life forever.
"Are you sure you're not giving her any money?" Ginger asked.
"I told you, I'm through with her!" Taylor snapped back. "Please believe me--I'm through with her!"
"How many times had you been with her before I caught you the other night?"
"One or two."
"I don't believe that!"
"You want me to call Marie? You can talk to her yourself!"
"That's the last thing I want to do!"
"What have the children been saying?"
Ginger said nothing.
"Okay, Ginger," Taylor said. "You and I both know what happened. I messed up. Let's get this out in the open. Do you want us to stay together?"
"You'll get visitation rights, of course, but I don't think we belong together any more!" Ginger replied. "We haven't really been right for each other for some time. Maybe ther'll come a day we'll feel differently, but I don't think that'll be any time soon."
"Yep!" Taylor, his face reddening, said. "It's like it's always been--you say, 'we,' and you mean, 'you.' You always wanted to make the decisions about everything. You had to do this, you had to do that. I--"
"Good thing we met out here in separate cars," Ginger concluded, as she walked toward hers, and out of Taylor Baker's life forever.
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 11
Fifi Ballinger awoke at ten thirty that morning. She had been on pills ever since Jim had left that past Thursday.
Determined to straighten her marital status out, she phoned John Madison.
John did not usually work on Saturday, but happened to be in his office, looking for a book, when the telephone rang.
"John," Fifi said. "I want to make an appointment with you."
"I know what you want, Fifi," John said, "and I would be glad to represent you. However, Clara and I have just been too close to you and Jim as a couple for me to represent you--either of you! I had to tell Mark and Janie Engle the same thing when they were divorced--plenty of people. Of course, I hope you'll understand."
"In other words," Fifi said. "I will have to get another lawyer."
"Yes. So will Jim. I want to remain a friend to both of you."
"Well, I'll be damned if you're my friend any more! I suggest you try another profession!"
"Fifi!" John retorted. 'I've been a lawyer for many years. I think I know what's best!"
Fifi slammed the receiver down. Uncertain as to why she behaved in the manner she did, she cried for a few minutes. She then arose, and headed for the liquor cabinet. No sooner had she prepared a drink and gotten settled back into bed, than the doorbell rang. For a minute, she thought about not answering. But there would be rumors. Finally, she answered.
"Just thought I'd come by and see my friend," Janie Engle said. "Did I wake you?"
"Oh," a shocked Fifi replied, "no. C'mon in."
Janie couldn't ignore the empty glasses, and general disorder of the room.
"Let me dress," Fifi said.
"Oh, no," Janie replied. "I'm not staying long. Don't go to any trouble over me! I just thought I'd come by and see how you were."
They sat down.
"I've been the news lately," Fifi cried. "Oh, Janie! I don't even know where Jim is--no one knows! I called John Madison a little while ago about the divorce, and he cut me short!" Growing louder, she continued, "He preached to me that he wouldn't represent either of us. Disgusting, ain't it!"
"He did the same thing when Mark and I separated. Have you been entertaining, Fifi?"
"No, let's plan something."
"Well, I was just noticing all these empty glasses. Can I help you clean up?"
"Oh, Lord," Fifi said. "I'm so embarrassed! It's just these past few days have been a little too much for me. Honestly, I had to do something to calm my nerves!"
Janie arose, and began tidying up.
"Please don't go to any trouble over my house!" Fifi said. "Don't worry about it."
Janie ignored Fifi, and proceeded with the chores. She picked up four glasses, and took them to the kitchen. Fifi, totally embarrassed, headed for the bedroom.
"I'll be right back, Janie."
"Okay."
When she reached the bedroom, she headed straight for her drink. She took the glass, put it to her mouth, and gulped it down. Two nerve pills followed. Fifi returned to the living room, as Janie completed the cleaning.
"Ya really are helpful," Fifi said. 'If I knew anything about hairstyling, I'd help you sometimes!"
"Think nothing of it!" Janie said.
The two sat down again.
"You do know a little about sewing, don't you?" Janie asked.
"Uh, yes," Fifi, knowing what would come next, answered.
"Well, tonight I've got to make some things for my nieces. Why don't you just come help me! we can sew and visit. We haven't had a good visit since I don't know the day!"
Fifi thought about it. She knew she'd probably be drunk, and, even if she wasn't drunk, she'd be doped up.
"Can I make it another time, Janie? You know how it is." She hoped Janie understood.
"Why, certainly," Janie answered. "I understand how things are. I've got to be going. Take care of yourself--please."
"You know I will," Fifi, another drink in mind, said.
That afternoon, several of the youth of Cole gathered at the country club. There was swimming, dancing, golfing, and a barbeque. The college students attending the party would buy drinks and give them to the underage, the only reasons several of the teenagers were there.
Among those present were Jack Fisher and Margaret Henson, Bill Kazan and Karen Ingram, and Clyde Henson and Kathy King.
Fifi, unaware of the youth gathering, decided to escape from her problems and retreat to the club.
Before she left the house, she popped another pill, then took a large gulf of wine. This, she thought, would "get me going."
When she drove up to the club, the unusual number of cars didn't scare her away. She merely assumed there were a lot of golfers, as there usually were on Saturday.
When she entered the clubhouse, she headed straight for the bar.
"Good afternoon, " shouted Barlow McGee, the jolly manager of the club who was a friend of the Ballingers. "How's my baby doing?"
"Gimme martini, Barlow," Fifi, slurring her words, said, as she sat at the bar.
"Comin' right up!" Barlow said. As he was preparing the drink, several college students came storming in, immediately found seats, and made themselves comfortable.
"What the hell is goin' on?" Fifi asked.
"Nothing much," Barlow replied. "The young gang are having a little get together. They really have a good time out here!"
"I didn't know they would be here today," Fifi said, sniffing.
Steven Lee and Valerie Black, both in swimwear, walked through the adjoining ballroom.
"Why aren't those kids dressed?" Fifi asked.
"Aw," Barlow replied. "Leave 'em alone! Here, take your martini outside and enjoy this beautiful day!"
"Thanks," Fifi replied. "Put it on my bill."
As Fifi proceeded to the pool, she overheard Steven say to Valerie, "That's the lady who ran her husband away."
Fifi's first thought was to throw her glass at Steven. Subduing herself, she sat down on a recliner, and stared at the fun everyone was having around and in the swimming pool.
"Don't you know that's my pool?" Fifi yelled.
The youths, apparently believeing Fifi was joking, were amused.
"Get out of my pool!" Fifi said.
"Yeah," Jack said. "We all wish we owned this pool! Unfortunately, not all of us are that lucky!"
"But this is my pool!" Fifi cried. She quickly arose, and ran toward Margaret, who jumped in and began swimming across.
Fifi ran to the clubhouse.
"Barlow! Barlow!" she screamed.
"What's the matter, Fifi?" Barlow asked.
"One of those damned children is swimming in my pool!"
"Are they causing any trouble for you?"
"I don't know," Fifi, breathless and shivering, answered. "They are swimming in my pool!"
"Look, Fifi," Barlow continued, "let's go back to the kitchen. I didn't think you looked well from the time you came in. Are you sure you're okay?"
As several of the youths giggled and whispered among themselves, Barlow grabbed Fifi by the arm and led her into the kitchen.
"What's the matter, Fifi? Are you feeling okay?"
At that moment, Fifi dropped her glass, and fell to the floor. As she lay there on the cold linoleum, Barlow phoned an ambulance.
Determined to straighten her marital status out, she phoned John Madison.
John did not usually work on Saturday, but happened to be in his office, looking for a book, when the telephone rang.
"John," Fifi said. "I want to make an appointment with you."
"I know what you want, Fifi," John said, "and I would be glad to represent you. However, Clara and I have just been too close to you and Jim as a couple for me to represent you--either of you! I had to tell Mark and Janie Engle the same thing when they were divorced--plenty of people. Of course, I hope you'll understand."
"In other words," Fifi said. "I will have to get another lawyer."
"Yes. So will Jim. I want to remain a friend to both of you."
"Well, I'll be damned if you're my friend any more! I suggest you try another profession!"
"Fifi!" John retorted. 'I've been a lawyer for many years. I think I know what's best!"
Fifi slammed the receiver down. Uncertain as to why she behaved in the manner she did, she cried for a few minutes. She then arose, and headed for the liquor cabinet. No sooner had she prepared a drink and gotten settled back into bed, than the doorbell rang. For a minute, she thought about not answering. But there would be rumors. Finally, she answered.
"Just thought I'd come by and see my friend," Janie Engle said. "Did I wake you?"
"Oh," a shocked Fifi replied, "no. C'mon in."
Janie couldn't ignore the empty glasses, and general disorder of the room.
"Let me dress," Fifi said.
"Oh, no," Janie replied. "I'm not staying long. Don't go to any trouble over me! I just thought I'd come by and see how you were."
They sat down.
"I've been the news lately," Fifi cried. "Oh, Janie! I don't even know where Jim is--no one knows! I called John Madison a little while ago about the divorce, and he cut me short!" Growing louder, she continued, "He preached to me that he wouldn't represent either of us. Disgusting, ain't it!"
"He did the same thing when Mark and I separated. Have you been entertaining, Fifi?"
"No, let's plan something."
"Well, I was just noticing all these empty glasses. Can I help you clean up?"
"Oh, Lord," Fifi said. "I'm so embarrassed! It's just these past few days have been a little too much for me. Honestly, I had to do something to calm my nerves!"
Janie arose, and began tidying up.
"Please don't go to any trouble over my house!" Fifi said. "Don't worry about it."
Janie ignored Fifi, and proceeded with the chores. She picked up four glasses, and took them to the kitchen. Fifi, totally embarrassed, headed for the bedroom.
"I'll be right back, Janie."
"Okay."
When she reached the bedroom, she headed straight for her drink. She took the glass, put it to her mouth, and gulped it down. Two nerve pills followed. Fifi returned to the living room, as Janie completed the cleaning.
"Ya really are helpful," Fifi said. 'If I knew anything about hairstyling, I'd help you sometimes!"
"Think nothing of it!" Janie said.
The two sat down again.
"You do know a little about sewing, don't you?" Janie asked.
"Uh, yes," Fifi, knowing what would come next, answered.
"Well, tonight I've got to make some things for my nieces. Why don't you just come help me! we can sew and visit. We haven't had a good visit since I don't know the day!"
Fifi thought about it. She knew she'd probably be drunk, and, even if she wasn't drunk, she'd be doped up.
"Can I make it another time, Janie? You know how it is." She hoped Janie understood.
"Why, certainly," Janie answered. "I understand how things are. I've got to be going. Take care of yourself--please."
"You know I will," Fifi, another drink in mind, said.
That afternoon, several of the youth of Cole gathered at the country club. There was swimming, dancing, golfing, and a barbeque. The college students attending the party would buy drinks and give them to the underage, the only reasons several of the teenagers were there.
Among those present were Jack Fisher and Margaret Henson, Bill Kazan and Karen Ingram, and Clyde Henson and Kathy King.
Fifi, unaware of the youth gathering, decided to escape from her problems and retreat to the club.
Before she left the house, she popped another pill, then took a large gulf of wine. This, she thought, would "get me going."
When she drove up to the club, the unusual number of cars didn't scare her away. She merely assumed there were a lot of golfers, as there usually were on Saturday.
When she entered the clubhouse, she headed straight for the bar.
"Good afternoon, " shouted Barlow McGee, the jolly manager of the club who was a friend of the Ballingers. "How's my baby doing?"
"Gimme martini, Barlow," Fifi, slurring her words, said, as she sat at the bar.
"Comin' right up!" Barlow said. As he was preparing the drink, several college students came storming in, immediately found seats, and made themselves comfortable.
"What the hell is goin' on?" Fifi asked.
"Nothing much," Barlow replied. "The young gang are having a little get together. They really have a good time out here!"
"I didn't know they would be here today," Fifi said, sniffing.
Steven Lee and Valerie Black, both in swimwear, walked through the adjoining ballroom.
"Why aren't those kids dressed?" Fifi asked.
"Aw," Barlow replied. "Leave 'em alone! Here, take your martini outside and enjoy this beautiful day!"
"Thanks," Fifi replied. "Put it on my bill."
As Fifi proceeded to the pool, she overheard Steven say to Valerie, "That's the lady who ran her husband away."
Fifi's first thought was to throw her glass at Steven. Subduing herself, she sat down on a recliner, and stared at the fun everyone was having around and in the swimming pool.
"Don't you know that's my pool?" Fifi yelled.
The youths, apparently believeing Fifi was joking, were amused.
"Get out of my pool!" Fifi said.
"Yeah," Jack said. "We all wish we owned this pool! Unfortunately, not all of us are that lucky!"
"But this is my pool!" Fifi cried. She quickly arose, and ran toward Margaret, who jumped in and began swimming across.
Fifi ran to the clubhouse.
"Barlow! Barlow!" she screamed.
"What's the matter, Fifi?" Barlow asked.
"One of those damned children is swimming in my pool!"
"Are they causing any trouble for you?"
"I don't know," Fifi, breathless and shivering, answered. "They are swimming in my pool!"
"Look, Fifi," Barlow continued, "let's go back to the kitchen. I didn't think you looked well from the time you came in. Are you sure you're okay?"
As several of the youths giggled and whispered among themselves, Barlow grabbed Fifi by the arm and led her into the kitchen.
"What's the matter, Fifi? Are you feeling okay?"
At that moment, Fifi dropped her glass, and fell to the floor. As she lay there on the cold linoleum, Barlow phoned an ambulance.
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 10
Saturday morning, Taylor joined his sister, Mildred, for breakfast at the Waffle House.
"I'm so sorry about all this," Mildred said.
"Well, I have only myself to blame," Taylor said. "My real concern now is the children. Sam's nineteen and Barbara's fifteen, and they're either going to hate me--or--I don't know! I don't want them taking sides!"
"Nobody's perfect," said Mildred, lighting a cigarette.
"There's also this mess with Clarence Donovan. I knew he wasn't perfect, either, but he's on the verge of losing his pharmacy if he doesn't straighten things up."
"People in Cole have an amazing way of forgiving," Mildred said. "Why, if everyone here was judged by the scandals, that is, if no one forgave, we'd have no community. No one would be speaking to each other!"
"I'm going to call Ginger today and see if we can talk."
"Good idea," Mildred said.
Later that day, Leora Carter answered the phone when Taylor called Ginger.
"May I please speak to Ginger?" Taylor asked.
"Who's calling?" Leora sarcastically replied.
"Please let me speak to my wife!"
There was a pause.
"Ginger, this is Taylor."
"Why are you calling?" Ginger asked.
"You might not go along with this, but I want us to have a meeting, to talk, soon."
"When?"
"As soon as possible, Ginger! Whether you know it or not, I still love you. I want to see our children. I can't seem to keep up with them."
"Keep up with them?" Ginger angrily replied. "We're the ones who can't keep up with you!"
"Why don't we meet out at the lake?"
"Fine. What time?"
"One thirty."
"See you then."
Taylor showered, shaved, and dressed, anticipating the afternoon ahead.
"I'm so sorry about all this," Mildred said.
"Well, I have only myself to blame," Taylor said. "My real concern now is the children. Sam's nineteen and Barbara's fifteen, and they're either going to hate me--or--I don't know! I don't want them taking sides!"
"Nobody's perfect," said Mildred, lighting a cigarette.
"There's also this mess with Clarence Donovan. I knew he wasn't perfect, either, but he's on the verge of losing his pharmacy if he doesn't straighten things up."
"People in Cole have an amazing way of forgiving," Mildred said. "Why, if everyone here was judged by the scandals, that is, if no one forgave, we'd have no community. No one would be speaking to each other!"
"I'm going to call Ginger today and see if we can talk."
"Good idea," Mildred said.
Later that day, Leora Carter answered the phone when Taylor called Ginger.
"May I please speak to Ginger?" Taylor asked.
"Who's calling?" Leora sarcastically replied.
"Please let me speak to my wife!"
There was a pause.
"Ginger, this is Taylor."
"Why are you calling?" Ginger asked.
"You might not go along with this, but I want us to have a meeting, to talk, soon."
"When?"
"As soon as possible, Ginger! Whether you know it or not, I still love you. I want to see our children. I can't seem to keep up with them."
"Keep up with them?" Ginger angrily replied. "We're the ones who can't keep up with you!"
"Why don't we meet out at the lake?"
"Fine. What time?"
"One thirty."
"See you then."
Taylor showered, shaved, and dressed, anticipating the afternoon ahead.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 9
Friday afternoon, Steven Lee, the tall, seventeen year old great nephew of Julia Armstrong, finally paid a visit to a lonesome Bob Armstrong.
Bob was sitting on the front porch and saw Steven as the lanky lad walked up the front sidewalk. Wearing gym shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes, Steven perspired and brushed his long hair away from his hot forehead.
"Hey, buddy!" Bob greeted.
"Hey, Bob," Steven replied, in his youthful, deep voice. "Sorry for not visiting in so long!"
"Aw--don't apologize," Bob replied. "You look like you've been running."
"Yep," Steven replied. "I just got through with track practice."
"Then go back to the kitchen and get us two coca-colas out of the ice box!"
Steven, at the young age of seventeen, had experienced quite an interesting life to the people of small town Cole.
When he was seven years old, his beautiful mother died. Steven was too young at the time to understand this tragedy.
Over the years, Steven began to look more and more like his mother. His face, hair color, eyes--these features daily reminded the people of Cole that Steven Lee once had a beautiful mother, and now she was gone.
When Steven was nine, his father, George, sold their home, and the two moved to an older, smaller house in a less desirable part of town. In this area, Steven fell in with a tougher group of friends. He matured early, both physically and emotionally, and his "growing pains" included regular sessions of drinking, smoking, minor vandalism, and having sex with black girls. None of the adults knew about this misbehavior, until one night when Steven and several other teenagers were hauled in to the local police station, busted for underage beer possession. George, understandably upset, grounded Steven for several weeks, and during that time Steven did a lot of soul searching, got more involved with the small youth group at the Episcopal church, and began learning more useful skills such as yard work, laundry, etc. He soon outgrew his petty crimes, did better in school, and developed a loyalty to elderly relatives whom he visited more regularly than others his age did.
George remarried a woman from Lake Providence, Louisiana, named Edwina Bingham, whom he had been dating for several months. Steven was shocked by the marriage, though. During the honeymoon, steven stayed in the home of his father's close friends, a Jewish family named Karl Katz, Karl's sister, Miriam, and Miriam's husband and daughter, Joe and Jeidi Mayer. The four convinced Steven that things, somehow, always worked out for the best, and even though Edwina might not "hold a candle" to his real mother, there would be other good qualities she would possess. The few days at the Katz-Meyer home inspired Steven.
After the remarriage, the Lee's again moved--this time, to a new house, one mile north of Cole. Steven reached full physical maturity by age seventeen, acquired better manners, and hung out with nicer friends. While still considered "cool," gone were Steven's wildest days, and he showed a lot of promise.
Steven returned with the cokes, handed one to Bob, and took a seat in one of the wicker chairs on the porch.
Knowing how interested Steven was in the adult goings on of Cole, Bob began discussing the events of the past week.
"Yeah!" Steven said. "I've heard a thousand different stories! Since you were at the party, straighten me out!"
Bob, after several days of a particular story, forgot the main thread, and never kept the facts straight. Thus, he added to the Cole rumors. "Well, the doctor--what's his name?"
"Taylor Baker."
"Yeah--baker--well, anyway, Taylor Baker went home and beat his wife. Then, Mark Engle, the fellow at the post office, comes running in and screams, 'Taylor just knocked his wife out!'"
Of course, Steven knew that Bob, even though he was at the party, was quite confused. He was really amused by the routine. Thus, Bob continued.
"Then, John throws Sam--yes, that's his name--Sam Masters, out for having a bottle of vodka."
Steven knew that part well. He'd heard it from Sam and Joycie.
"I'll bet Joycie was upset!"
"Upset?" Bob replied. "She almost had a damn fit! Anyway, you know they've been fighting over there a lot. I'm eating with them. Clara tells me that every day Joycie has a bad day, Clara herself has a bad dat. Clara cries an awful lot, you know!"
Steven then wanted the scoop on Jim and Fifi Ballinger.
"You heard anything about Fifi Ballinger?"
"The unfortunate thing about Fifi," Bob began, "is that she's not only a whiskey head, but also a pill head!"
Steven laughed.
"It's not funny!" Bob said. "The man that sprays for termites told me he was in the store next to Janie--what's her name?"
"Janie Engle."
"Yes--Janie Engle--the girl that runs the beauty parlor! Anyway, the guy that sprays for pests in the old building next to the beauty shop says he saw Fifi go into the shop the other morning, and she looked drunk. Well, I'll bet you anything she was on pills that morning! I hear she goes in Clarence Donovan's drugstore and buys all sorts of pills, things most people buy once or twice a year--Fifi goes in there every week and buys 'em by the carton!"
Steven wanted to avoid further discussion about the Donovan drugstore, as he knew of some his girlfriends who'd illegally gotten birth control pills there in the past.
"Do you know when Julia will be home?" Steven asked.
"When I talked to her last," Bob replied, "she said she'd be home in a few days, then back to New Orleans!"
They were discussing Mary Anne's condition when a brown Buick drove up in front of the house, and parked. Jack Fisher and the girl he was then dating, beautiful Margaret Hensen, got out, and joined Bob and Steven on the porch.
"We've been looking for you all afternoon, Steven," Jack said.
"Aren't you excited about tonight?" Margaret asked.
"Whatever is going on tonight?" Bob asked.
"Steven has a date with Valerie Black!" Margaret said.
"I don't believe I know her!" Bob said. "Give me some background."
"Well," Jack said, "with the exception of Margaret, she's one of the most beautiful girls at Cole High! She's being chased by two or three other boys.
"Yes," Margaret chimed in, "and old Steven has ner tonight."
"Be careful, Steve!" Bob joked.
Everyone laughed.
"Don't worry," Steven said. "I will."
After some close calls in the past, Steven meant what he said!
Bob was sitting on the front porch and saw Steven as the lanky lad walked up the front sidewalk. Wearing gym shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes, Steven perspired and brushed his long hair away from his hot forehead.
"Hey, buddy!" Bob greeted.
"Hey, Bob," Steven replied, in his youthful, deep voice. "Sorry for not visiting in so long!"
"Aw--don't apologize," Bob replied. "You look like you've been running."
"Yep," Steven replied. "I just got through with track practice."
"Then go back to the kitchen and get us two coca-colas out of the ice box!"
Steven, at the young age of seventeen, had experienced quite an interesting life to the people of small town Cole.
When he was seven years old, his beautiful mother died. Steven was too young at the time to understand this tragedy.
Over the years, Steven began to look more and more like his mother. His face, hair color, eyes--these features daily reminded the people of Cole that Steven Lee once had a beautiful mother, and now she was gone.
When Steven was nine, his father, George, sold their home, and the two moved to an older, smaller house in a less desirable part of town. In this area, Steven fell in with a tougher group of friends. He matured early, both physically and emotionally, and his "growing pains" included regular sessions of drinking, smoking, minor vandalism, and having sex with black girls. None of the adults knew about this misbehavior, until one night when Steven and several other teenagers were hauled in to the local police station, busted for underage beer possession. George, understandably upset, grounded Steven for several weeks, and during that time Steven did a lot of soul searching, got more involved with the small youth group at the Episcopal church, and began learning more useful skills such as yard work, laundry, etc. He soon outgrew his petty crimes, did better in school, and developed a loyalty to elderly relatives whom he visited more regularly than others his age did.
George remarried a woman from Lake Providence, Louisiana, named Edwina Bingham, whom he had been dating for several months. Steven was shocked by the marriage, though. During the honeymoon, steven stayed in the home of his father's close friends, a Jewish family named Karl Katz, Karl's sister, Miriam, and Miriam's husband and daughter, Joe and Jeidi Mayer. The four convinced Steven that things, somehow, always worked out for the best, and even though Edwina might not "hold a candle" to his real mother, there would be other good qualities she would possess. The few days at the Katz-Meyer home inspired Steven.
After the remarriage, the Lee's again moved--this time, to a new house, one mile north of Cole. Steven reached full physical maturity by age seventeen, acquired better manners, and hung out with nicer friends. While still considered "cool," gone were Steven's wildest days, and he showed a lot of promise.
Steven returned with the cokes, handed one to Bob, and took a seat in one of the wicker chairs on the porch.
Knowing how interested Steven was in the adult goings on of Cole, Bob began discussing the events of the past week.
"Yeah!" Steven said. "I've heard a thousand different stories! Since you were at the party, straighten me out!"
Bob, after several days of a particular story, forgot the main thread, and never kept the facts straight. Thus, he added to the Cole rumors. "Well, the doctor--what's his name?"
"Taylor Baker."
"Yeah--baker--well, anyway, Taylor Baker went home and beat his wife. Then, Mark Engle, the fellow at the post office, comes running in and screams, 'Taylor just knocked his wife out!'"
Of course, Steven knew that Bob, even though he was at the party, was quite confused. He was really amused by the routine. Thus, Bob continued.
"Then, John throws Sam--yes, that's his name--Sam Masters, out for having a bottle of vodka."
Steven knew that part well. He'd heard it from Sam and Joycie.
"I'll bet Joycie was upset!"
"Upset?" Bob replied. "She almost had a damn fit! Anyway, you know they've been fighting over there a lot. I'm eating with them. Clara tells me that every day Joycie has a bad day, Clara herself has a bad dat. Clara cries an awful lot, you know!"
Steven then wanted the scoop on Jim and Fifi Ballinger.
"You heard anything about Fifi Ballinger?"
"The unfortunate thing about Fifi," Bob began, "is that she's not only a whiskey head, but also a pill head!"
Steven laughed.
"It's not funny!" Bob said. "The man that sprays for termites told me he was in the store next to Janie--what's her name?"
"Janie Engle."
"Yes--Janie Engle--the girl that runs the beauty parlor! Anyway, the guy that sprays for pests in the old building next to the beauty shop says he saw Fifi go into the shop the other morning, and she looked drunk. Well, I'll bet you anything she was on pills that morning! I hear she goes in Clarence Donovan's drugstore and buys all sorts of pills, things most people buy once or twice a year--Fifi goes in there every week and buys 'em by the carton!"
Steven wanted to avoid further discussion about the Donovan drugstore, as he knew of some his girlfriends who'd illegally gotten birth control pills there in the past.
"Do you know when Julia will be home?" Steven asked.
"When I talked to her last," Bob replied, "she said she'd be home in a few days, then back to New Orleans!"
They were discussing Mary Anne's condition when a brown Buick drove up in front of the house, and parked. Jack Fisher and the girl he was then dating, beautiful Margaret Hensen, got out, and joined Bob and Steven on the porch.
"We've been looking for you all afternoon, Steven," Jack said.
"Aren't you excited about tonight?" Margaret asked.
"Whatever is going on tonight?" Bob asked.
"Steven has a date with Valerie Black!" Margaret said.
"I don't believe I know her!" Bob said. "Give me some background."
"Well," Jack said, "with the exception of Margaret, she's one of the most beautiful girls at Cole High! She's being chased by two or three other boys.
"Yes," Margaret chimed in, "and old Steven has ner tonight."
"Be careful, Steve!" Bob joked.
Everyone laughed.
"Don't worry," Steven said. "I will."
After some close calls in the past, Steven meant what he said!
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 8
Thursday morning, Janie Engle opened her beauty shop, as usual, at seven thirty. There were no appointments until nine thirty. Thus, she made a cup of coffee, and sat in the small lounge, in the back of the shop. Thursday was a light day, anyway. Her two assistants were off, and things were quiet. Janie enjoyed the peace.
She had just started reading an article in Ladies Home Journal when she heard the front door open. She arose, and walked into the shop.
"Fifi!" Janie said to her friend. "What on earth are you doing here?"
Fifi seemed intoxicated, and her speech was slurred. "Ya gotta fix me up! Got 'nother man. He's gonna be waiting at the train depot!"
"What are you talking about?" a concerned Janie asked.
Fifi made herself comfortable in a chair. "Just fis me up--the works!"
"You don't even have an appointment, Fifi! I can't just start from scratch. I have to get everything ready!"
"Go ahead," Fifi laughed. "I'll be here!"
"I'll be right with you, Fifi," Janie said. She walked back to the lounge, and phoned Jim.
Jim was still asleep. He had no idea that Fifi, who slept beside him, was gone. He awoke, and answered, "Hello."
"Jim--Janie. I'm sorry to wake you, but do you have any idea where your wife is at the moment?"
"Of course!" Jim said. "She's right here." He reached for Fifi, but, of course, felt nothing. He turned around quickly. "What th--where the hell is my wife? What's going on?"
"Please be calm," Janie said. "Be patient. I don't know what the matter with Fifi is, but she's here in my shop, insisting I do her hair. She sounds drunk--can't get here words straight. She keeps telling me she left you--that she's gonna meet an army officer at the train depot. Jim, do you realize that the depot closed ten years ago? What on earth is Fifi saying?"
"She's probably taking pills again," Jim said. "I'll be right there!" He hung up, dressed, and headed for the beaity parlor.
Janie stalled. "Won't you join me for a cup of coffee, Fifi?"
"I--I want my hair fixed! I got a train waiting!"
"Where is the train you're getting on?"
"Right 'ere at 'a Cole depot!"
"Who is the army officer?"
"My secret love," Fifi hollered. "You wouldn't know 'im. We're gonna elope outta here."
Janie, by now, was certain there was something wrong with Fifi.
Suddenly, Jim stormed in. He ran up to Fifi and grabbed her. "What the hell are you doing here? Why did you leave the house?"
Fifi trembled, and looked toward Janie for help. "He's gonna kill, Janie! Save me!" she cried loudly.
"What is wrong with her?" Janie cried.
"Nothing--nothing!" Jim replied, avoiding Janie's eyes. "We just had another small argument last night. I think Fifi took some more pills. She has these terrible delusions when she does these things!"
"Don't you think you better see Taylor Baker?" Janie asked.
"Nothing is wrong," Jim said, "that cannot be corrected soon." He looked toward Fifi, and squeezed her arm. "Right?"
"Wrong!" Fifi yelled, and ran to Janie. "He's lying when he says nothing is wrong! Jim is a liar! For the past year, our life together has been pure hell--one fight after another. It's a good thing we don't have any children!"
"You're a liar!" Jim said.
"Please believe me, Janie," Fifi continued. "We might have looked good on the outside--dancing, drinking--but, in reality, we fight like cats and dogs." Fifi quickly pulled her skirt up, revealing a large bandage on her right leg. "See this! He go a knife to me!"
"My God!" Janie gasped. "When did that happen?"
Like a wild, dumb animal, Fifi growled and sneered at Jim. "You're a liar and a cheat! You hear me? A liar and a cheat!"
"Okay!" Jim, all patience lost, said. "Okay! I'm a liar and a cheat. Well, Fifi, I'm leaving you! I won't be around any more to protect you when you raid the drug cabinet! You say I'm always beating you--well, I'm leaving! I won't have any reason to beat any more--and you won't have any reason to take it!"
"Leaving me?" Fifi, shocked, replied.
"You couldn't have said it nicer!"
"Uh--oh--good!" Fifi, surprised, said. "Get gone. Get your belongings out of the house--I don't want you any more!"
Jim walked out.
Fifi sat down.
"Want me to go ahead and fix your hair?" Janie asked.
"Why?"
"What about the army officer?"
Fifi didn't know what Janie was talking about.
She had just started reading an article in Ladies Home Journal when she heard the front door open. She arose, and walked into the shop.
"Fifi!" Janie said to her friend. "What on earth are you doing here?"
Fifi seemed intoxicated, and her speech was slurred. "Ya gotta fix me up! Got 'nother man. He's gonna be waiting at the train depot!"
"What are you talking about?" a concerned Janie asked.
Fifi made herself comfortable in a chair. "Just fis me up--the works!"
"You don't even have an appointment, Fifi! I can't just start from scratch. I have to get everything ready!"
"Go ahead," Fifi laughed. "I'll be here!"
"I'll be right with you, Fifi," Janie said. She walked back to the lounge, and phoned Jim.
Jim was still asleep. He had no idea that Fifi, who slept beside him, was gone. He awoke, and answered, "Hello."
"Jim--Janie. I'm sorry to wake you, but do you have any idea where your wife is at the moment?"
"Of course!" Jim said. "She's right here." He reached for Fifi, but, of course, felt nothing. He turned around quickly. "What th--where the hell is my wife? What's going on?"
"Please be calm," Janie said. "Be patient. I don't know what the matter with Fifi is, but she's here in my shop, insisting I do her hair. She sounds drunk--can't get here words straight. She keeps telling me she left you--that she's gonna meet an army officer at the train depot. Jim, do you realize that the depot closed ten years ago? What on earth is Fifi saying?"
"She's probably taking pills again," Jim said. "I'll be right there!" He hung up, dressed, and headed for the beaity parlor.
Janie stalled. "Won't you join me for a cup of coffee, Fifi?"
"I--I want my hair fixed! I got a train waiting!"
"Where is the train you're getting on?"
"Right 'ere at 'a Cole depot!"
"Who is the army officer?"
"My secret love," Fifi hollered. "You wouldn't know 'im. We're gonna elope outta here."
Janie, by now, was certain there was something wrong with Fifi.
Suddenly, Jim stormed in. He ran up to Fifi and grabbed her. "What the hell are you doing here? Why did you leave the house?"
Fifi trembled, and looked toward Janie for help. "He's gonna kill, Janie! Save me!" she cried loudly.
"What is wrong with her?" Janie cried.
"Nothing--nothing!" Jim replied, avoiding Janie's eyes. "We just had another small argument last night. I think Fifi took some more pills. She has these terrible delusions when she does these things!"
"Don't you think you better see Taylor Baker?" Janie asked.
"Nothing is wrong," Jim said, "that cannot be corrected soon." He looked toward Fifi, and squeezed her arm. "Right?"
"Wrong!" Fifi yelled, and ran to Janie. "He's lying when he says nothing is wrong! Jim is a liar! For the past year, our life together has been pure hell--one fight after another. It's a good thing we don't have any children!"
"You're a liar!" Jim said.
"Please believe me, Janie," Fifi continued. "We might have looked good on the outside--dancing, drinking--but, in reality, we fight like cats and dogs." Fifi quickly pulled her skirt up, revealing a large bandage on her right leg. "See this! He go a knife to me!"
"My God!" Janie gasped. "When did that happen?"
Like a wild, dumb animal, Fifi growled and sneered at Jim. "You're a liar and a cheat! You hear me? A liar and a cheat!"
"Okay!" Jim, all patience lost, said. "Okay! I'm a liar and a cheat. Well, Fifi, I'm leaving you! I won't be around any more to protect you when you raid the drug cabinet! You say I'm always beating you--well, I'm leaving! I won't have any reason to beat any more--and you won't have any reason to take it!"
"Leaving me?" Fifi, shocked, replied.
"You couldn't have said it nicer!"
"Uh--oh--good!" Fifi, surprised, said. "Get gone. Get your belongings out of the house--I don't want you any more!"
Jim walked out.
Fifi sat down.
"Want me to go ahead and fix your hair?" Janie asked.
"Why?"
"What about the army officer?"
Fifi didn't know what Janie was talking about.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 7
Taylor arrived at the same time Joycie and John were having an argument. Clara, remaining silent, witnessed a brutal verbal exchange between her husband and granddaughter. Taylor could hear the shouts, as he walked up the front sidewalk.
"Sam Masters is nothing but a damn bum!" John said.
"You're a crazy old man!" Joycie replied. "You don't know Sam at all!"
Taylor rang the doorbell.
"Oh, Lord, John," Clara said. "You two, please shut up! Joycie, please go to your room. Joycie left, as John answered the door.
"Taylor!" John welcomed. "Come in and have a drink!"
"Oh, have I had a day!" Taylor sighed.
Clara brought Taylor a double scotch, and sat down, ready to listen.
Joycie, meanwhile, thought for the next few minutes about her argument with John. Finally, from her bed, she called Sam.
"Please come and get me, Sam," Joycie begged.
"You're finally ready to elope?"
"Yes," she answered. "You'll have to come quick. It's easier for us to leave from here than me going all the way back to Florida. I'll--I'll meet you on the street behind the house! Oh, Sam, when I'm with you, nothing else matters."
"I'll be there as soon as I can," Sam said.
Meanwhile, John, Clara, and Taylor were discussing the events of Saturday night. They carefully avoided the business between Taylor and Marie, and lingered more on how the whole town found out.
"You never know what people will do--er--say, in Cole!" Clara said.
"Things have really been blown out of proportion," John stated. "I heard someone in the grocery store say that, instead of Jim beating Fifi up, that you beat Ginger up!"
Taylor thought about that remark. "Could you explain that, Clara? What do you mean?"
"Well," Clara began, "in the beauty shop, Janie Engle said that Marie had been going all over town telling everyone how much she loves you. Apparently, she caused a lot of this nonsense talk!"
"Well," John said, "I think we've talked enough about the matter. How are Jim and Fifi, Taylor?"
"Fine," Taylor, his mind on Marie's alleged remarks, replied. "Just fine."
It had not struck Taylor until that moment that Marie was the main cause of all his martial and general business problems. She had distracted, he realized, not only his loyalty to home and work, but also his sense of honor. She, by "letting the cat out of the bag," had done the main damage, he thought.
After more drinks and chatter, Taylor left the Madison's house. Destination: the home of Marie Treacher.
At that same time, Bob Armstrong was talking to Julia over the telephone.
"Yes, that was some party," Bob hollered. "Jim drags Fifi out, and half an hour later, Taylor Baker comes in and says, 'Jim beat up Fifi.'"
"A doctor can't go around spilling the beans about his patients!" Julia replied. "Hell, I never trusted that Taylor Baker, anyway!"
"Somebody told me this morning that a man from the state board of health was here investigating Clarence Donovan," Bob continued.
"Clarence Donovan's another one who should be run out of town!"
"Listen," Bob said, "the real reason I called you was to find out how our girl is!"
"She's fine," Julia said. "I'm the one whose tired! I've made a hundred trips up and down those steps today! The next time you see young Joycie Madison, warn her to have her 'chillens' early in life!"
"She'll have to get married first, honey!" bob laughed. "She's just a picture of innocence now!"
Owing to the thoughts then in Joycie's head, she could have really surprised Bob and Julia.
After saying "goodnight" to her grandparents and apologizing for her behavior, Joycie went to her room, packed, and turned out the lights. Suitcase in hand, she then climed out the back window.
Sam never showed up.
Joycie realized, after some deliberation, that her whole idea to elope was just a big joke to Sam.
Taylor drove past Marie's house severeal times before he stopped, mainly to assure himself that her rough husband, Mack, was gone.
Finally, he had to courage to stop. He'd only stay a few minutes, and he didn't care what people said--he was going to get several things straight, once and for all. He would merely attempt to find out how much Marie talked, and to distinguish truth from rumor.
Taylor nervously walked to the door. He rang the doorbell. marie, clad in lingerie, answered.
"I knew you wouldn't let me down!" Marie said, grabbing Taylor. "Please sleep here with me tonight. Mack won't be back until tomorrow."
Taylor brutally pushed Marie away.
"I came here for one reason, and one reason only!" he yelled.
"Taylor," a shocked Marie said. "Calm down. Please! Come sit down and tell me what the matter is!"
"I'll kill you if I have to," Taylor said. "Are you going to answer what I ask you?"
"It depends on what the question is."
"I want to know something from you--one thing--then I'm gonna get outta this hole! How much have you talked about our relationship? I know it didn't leak out without someone telling, and it sure as hell wasn't me!"
Marie was silent.
"You tell me, or I'll kill you right here!" Taylor, raising his fist, yelled. "I'm in so much trouble, I don't care what happens now!"
Marie lit a cigarette, and sat back on the sofa.
"Tell me!"
"Please--please get out of here and leave me alone! I'm going to call the police if you don't get out of here! You're being completely unreasonable. You should have known all along that everyone knew about us! Leora Carter was just too sumpathetic to talk to your wife about it much, but she knew. You never understood that."
Taylor sighed. A long silence followed.
"Who else knew besides Leora? Was there anyone in particular you told?"
"My sister, Betty Rayburn."
"Are you completely crazy? Your sister has one of the biggest mouths in town! Why did you tell
her?"
"Betty and I share everything," Marie laughed.
"Well," Taylor said, "there is one thing you aren't going to share--me! I'm through with you forever. You've ruined my family life--and practically ruined my reputation as a doctor! It might do me good to leave this town!"
"Wouldn't you take me with you?"
"You've got to be kidding!" Taylor laughed. "Do you realize that there is little hope of reconciliation between me and my wife? You must be nuts, just as I had imagined."
"But you told me you loved me!"
"To make this less painful for both of us, I'll be blunt! I don't love you, Marie. I'm leaving this house right now!"
As Taylor walked toward the door, he turned around and said, "Go cry to your husband. He probably still loves you!"
Marie sat motionless for awhile. Her show was over. Another lover had just walked out of her life, and she began thinking of the next. He would be much younger, she thought.
"Sam Masters is nothing but a damn bum!" John said.
"You're a crazy old man!" Joycie replied. "You don't know Sam at all!"
Taylor rang the doorbell.
"Oh, Lord, John," Clara said. "You two, please shut up! Joycie, please go to your room. Joycie left, as John answered the door.
"Taylor!" John welcomed. "Come in and have a drink!"
"Oh, have I had a day!" Taylor sighed.
Clara brought Taylor a double scotch, and sat down, ready to listen.
Joycie, meanwhile, thought for the next few minutes about her argument with John. Finally, from her bed, she called Sam.
"Please come and get me, Sam," Joycie begged.
"You're finally ready to elope?"
"Yes," she answered. "You'll have to come quick. It's easier for us to leave from here than me going all the way back to Florida. I'll--I'll meet you on the street behind the house! Oh, Sam, when I'm with you, nothing else matters."
"I'll be there as soon as I can," Sam said.
Meanwhile, John, Clara, and Taylor were discussing the events of Saturday night. They carefully avoided the business between Taylor and Marie, and lingered more on how the whole town found out.
"You never know what people will do--er--say, in Cole!" Clara said.
"Things have really been blown out of proportion," John stated. "I heard someone in the grocery store say that, instead of Jim beating Fifi up, that you beat Ginger up!"
Taylor thought about that remark. "Could you explain that, Clara? What do you mean?"
"Well," Clara began, "in the beauty shop, Janie Engle said that Marie had been going all over town telling everyone how much she loves you. Apparently, she caused a lot of this nonsense talk!"
"Well," John said, "I think we've talked enough about the matter. How are Jim and Fifi, Taylor?"
"Fine," Taylor, his mind on Marie's alleged remarks, replied. "Just fine."
It had not struck Taylor until that moment that Marie was the main cause of all his martial and general business problems. She had distracted, he realized, not only his loyalty to home and work, but also his sense of honor. She, by "letting the cat out of the bag," had done the main damage, he thought.
After more drinks and chatter, Taylor left the Madison's house. Destination: the home of Marie Treacher.
At that same time, Bob Armstrong was talking to Julia over the telephone.
"Yes, that was some party," Bob hollered. "Jim drags Fifi out, and half an hour later, Taylor Baker comes in and says, 'Jim beat up Fifi.'"
"A doctor can't go around spilling the beans about his patients!" Julia replied. "Hell, I never trusted that Taylor Baker, anyway!"
"Somebody told me this morning that a man from the state board of health was here investigating Clarence Donovan," Bob continued.
"Clarence Donovan's another one who should be run out of town!"
"Listen," Bob said, "the real reason I called you was to find out how our girl is!"
"She's fine," Julia said. "I'm the one whose tired! I've made a hundred trips up and down those steps today! The next time you see young Joycie Madison, warn her to have her 'chillens' early in life!"
"She'll have to get married first, honey!" bob laughed. "She's just a picture of innocence now!"
Owing to the thoughts then in Joycie's head, she could have really surprised Bob and Julia.
After saying "goodnight" to her grandparents and apologizing for her behavior, Joycie went to her room, packed, and turned out the lights. Suitcase in hand, she then climed out the back window.
Sam never showed up.
Joycie realized, after some deliberation, that her whole idea to elope was just a big joke to Sam.
Taylor drove past Marie's house severeal times before he stopped, mainly to assure himself that her rough husband, Mack, was gone.
Finally, he had to courage to stop. He'd only stay a few minutes, and he didn't care what people said--he was going to get several things straight, once and for all. He would merely attempt to find out how much Marie talked, and to distinguish truth from rumor.
Taylor nervously walked to the door. He rang the doorbell. marie, clad in lingerie, answered.
"I knew you wouldn't let me down!" Marie said, grabbing Taylor. "Please sleep here with me tonight. Mack won't be back until tomorrow."
Taylor brutally pushed Marie away.
"I came here for one reason, and one reason only!" he yelled.
"Taylor," a shocked Marie said. "Calm down. Please! Come sit down and tell me what the matter is!"
"I'll kill you if I have to," Taylor said. "Are you going to answer what I ask you?"
"It depends on what the question is."
"I want to know something from you--one thing--then I'm gonna get outta this hole! How much have you talked about our relationship? I know it didn't leak out without someone telling, and it sure as hell wasn't me!"
Marie was silent.
"You tell me, or I'll kill you right here!" Taylor, raising his fist, yelled. "I'm in so much trouble, I don't care what happens now!"
Marie lit a cigarette, and sat back on the sofa.
"Tell me!"
"Please--please get out of here and leave me alone! I'm going to call the police if you don't get out of here! You're being completely unreasonable. You should have known all along that everyone knew about us! Leora Carter was just too sumpathetic to talk to your wife about it much, but she knew. You never understood that."
Taylor sighed. A long silence followed.
"Who else knew besides Leora? Was there anyone in particular you told?"
"My sister, Betty Rayburn."
"Are you completely crazy? Your sister has one of the biggest mouths in town! Why did you tell
her?"
"Betty and I share everything," Marie laughed.
"Well," Taylor said, "there is one thing you aren't going to share--me! I'm through with you forever. You've ruined my family life--and practically ruined my reputation as a doctor! It might do me good to leave this town!"
"Wouldn't you take me with you?"
"You've got to be kidding!" Taylor laughed. "Do you realize that there is little hope of reconciliation between me and my wife? You must be nuts, just as I had imagined."
"But you told me you loved me!"
"To make this less painful for both of us, I'll be blunt! I don't love you, Marie. I'm leaving this house right now!"
As Taylor walked toward the door, he turned around and said, "Go cry to your husband. He probably still loves you!"
Marie sat motionless for awhile. Her show was over. Another lover had just walked out of her life, and she began thinking of the next. He would be much younger, she thought.
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 6
Word leaked out, and, by Monday morning, telephones were continually ringing in the houses of Cole.
Leora tried to hold back as much as possible, but many people got the "scoop" from her. By noon, Leora decided to take the telephone off the hook. Though on edge, she did manage to hold her temper in front of the children.
Tuesday, Taylor moved to a local motel, until further arrangements could be made.
Wednesday morning, to top it off, Clarence Donoban, Taylor's shifty pharmicist, entered the office.
"Taylor," Clarence began, "we're in trouble."
"What do you mean, we're in trouble?" Taylor snapped.
"Somehow--the--word got around--about your big mouth."
"What are you talking about?" Taylor, burning with anger, replied.
"The word got out about when--when you returned to that party--and told everyone about Jim and Fifi. Obviously, though, things are mixed up even further! Marie Treacher is going all over town telling people how much she loves you--and wanting to know how Jim and Fifi are doing!"
"I have never been in trouble like this," Taylor sighed. "I might lose my home, job, everything, all because of one night of whiskey and cheap sex." He paused. "What's your problem, anyway?"
"Today there was an inspector from the state board of health in--in the drugstore. I didn't know he was an inspector. One of the soda jerks was filling a prescription."
"You damn fool!" Taylor shouted, slamming his fist down on his desk. "How could you be so stupid?"
"Hold your horses, Taylor," the trembling old man said. "You know I've been too busy to fill every prescription you send me, and my other pharmicist moved away about a year ago, remember? I haven't been able to hire anyone else yet."
"So, you're letting the soda jerks fill prescriptions now?" Taylor sarcastically asked. "How sweet!"
Clarence stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
At five thiry that afternoon, Taylor was walking out of his office as the telephone rang.
"Dr. Baker," he wearily answered.
"Oh, Taylor," Marie said. "I've got to see you, we've got to talk!"
"Where are you, Marie?" Taylor replied.
"I'm in a hurry, can't talk now. My husband will be home any minute. Oh, Taylor, let's meet at your cabin tonight."
"I've got news for you, baby," Taylor replied. "You've caused me more trouble than pleasure. The party is over, Mrs. Treacher!"
"I've got to see you!" Marie cried. "I want things to get straight between us!"
"Things are as straight between us as they'll ever be!" Taylor said. "You're not going to make any more trouble for me!"
"Why did you tell me you loved me, you damn idiot?"
"I don't remember that," Taylor replied. "But I do remember giving you a lot of money. You've ruined my chances of ever having the full respect of my family, even this community, again. You got your money from me--now, leave me alone!"
"Well, Dr. Baker," Marie said. "You haven't heard the last of me!"
Simultaneously, both telephone receivers were slammed down.
As Taylor was driving home, he decided to call on the Madison's. He figured they would listen to him, and hoped they'd understand. After all, it was their party he went to on that fateful night!
Leora tried to hold back as much as possible, but many people got the "scoop" from her. By noon, Leora decided to take the telephone off the hook. Though on edge, she did manage to hold her temper in front of the children.
Tuesday, Taylor moved to a local motel, until further arrangements could be made.
Wednesday morning, to top it off, Clarence Donoban, Taylor's shifty pharmicist, entered the office.
"Taylor," Clarence began, "we're in trouble."
"What do you mean, we're in trouble?" Taylor snapped.
"Somehow--the--word got around--about your big mouth."
"What are you talking about?" Taylor, burning with anger, replied.
"The word got out about when--when you returned to that party--and told everyone about Jim and Fifi. Obviously, though, things are mixed up even further! Marie Treacher is going all over town telling people how much she loves you--and wanting to know how Jim and Fifi are doing!"
"I have never been in trouble like this," Taylor sighed. "I might lose my home, job, everything, all because of one night of whiskey and cheap sex." He paused. "What's your problem, anyway?"
"Today there was an inspector from the state board of health in--in the drugstore. I didn't know he was an inspector. One of the soda jerks was filling a prescription."
"You damn fool!" Taylor shouted, slamming his fist down on his desk. "How could you be so stupid?"
"Hold your horses, Taylor," the trembling old man said. "You know I've been too busy to fill every prescription you send me, and my other pharmicist moved away about a year ago, remember? I haven't been able to hire anyone else yet."
"So, you're letting the soda jerks fill prescriptions now?" Taylor sarcastically asked. "How sweet!"
Clarence stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
At five thiry that afternoon, Taylor was walking out of his office as the telephone rang.
"Dr. Baker," he wearily answered.
"Oh, Taylor," Marie said. "I've got to see you, we've got to talk!"
"Where are you, Marie?" Taylor replied.
"I'm in a hurry, can't talk now. My husband will be home any minute. Oh, Taylor, let's meet at your cabin tonight."
"I've got news for you, baby," Taylor replied. "You've caused me more trouble than pleasure. The party is over, Mrs. Treacher!"
"I've got to see you!" Marie cried. "I want things to get straight between us!"
"Things are as straight between us as they'll ever be!" Taylor said. "You're not going to make any more trouble for me!"
"Why did you tell me you loved me, you damn idiot?"
"I don't remember that," Taylor replied. "But I do remember giving you a lot of money. You've ruined my chances of ever having the full respect of my family, even this community, again. You got your money from me--now, leave me alone!"
"Well, Dr. Baker," Marie said. "You haven't heard the last of me!"
Simultaneously, both telephone receivers were slammed down.
As Taylor was driving home, he decided to call on the Madison's. He figured they would listen to him, and hoped they'd understand. After all, it was their party he went to on that fateful night!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 5
Meanwhile, Ginger, Taylor's wife, was, unbeknownst to her husband, returning to Cole. She decided to return home earlier than expected, and surprise Taylor. The surprise, unfortunately, would not be as planned.
Ginger had, for some time, suspected adultery on the part of Taylor and a young, well shaped woman by the name of Marie Jones Treacher.
On the way home, Ginver decided to stop by the country cottage and pick up some recipes she had left there. As she drove toward the cabin, she saw Marie's car parked next to Taylor's. There were no lights on in the cabin. It hit her suddenly, but what she had been suspecting for months, she now realized was true. She turned around, and headed for town.
Ginger went to the home of her best friend, Leora Carter, who had recently been divorced. Ginger and Leora intimately shared each other's secrets. Leora was ready, at any time, for Ginger to call on her as a witness to a divorce case.
Ginger went to the door. After ringing the doorbell, she heard Leora approaching.
"Hello, dear," Leora, in her housecoat, said.
"I'm in trouble," Ginger said, "and I need your help."
As the two sat down, Leora lit a cigarette. "What's the matter, Ginger?"
"Did you go to John and Clara's party tonight?"
"Yes. I didn't stay long, though."
"Do you remember seeing Taylor?"
"Let me see," Leora thought back. "Uh--yes! He had to leave, though."
"I see," Ginger said. "Oh, Leora, I know this sounds like an inquest, but did he return?"
"I don't know. When I left, he had not."
"I have a funny feeling something is going on."
"You mean--Marie Treacher?"
"Yes," Ginger said. "I decided to come home early. I stopped by the cabin on the way, and saw her car parked by my husband's!"
"Oh, God," Leora said. "All this time--along along, I thought you were only imagining these terrible things!"
"Leora, do you think you can be a witness for me tonight?"
Leora thought about her two small children, asleep, upstairs.
"The children--I can't just leave them here."
"I'm desperate," Ginger said. "You must come to the cabin with me! I've got to get to that cabin."
"I'll arrange something," Leora said.
Leora made sure the lights of her next door neighbor were on, and telephoned her.
"Catherine, I'm sorry to call this late, but do you think you could come over here and sit with Melvin and Susan for a little while. I won't be gone long, and they're asleep."
"Certainly," the neighbor said. "Cathy just got home from a date. She hasn't gone to bed yet. I'll send her over."
"Thank you very much, Catherine," Leora said.
After Leora dressed, the two women headed for the cabin.
The two cars were plainly in sight, still at the cabin, as ginger and Leora drove up.
"Get the keys out of the glove compartment," Ginger said.
"Ginger, I'm nervous about this. Suppose they have a gun."
"I'm not even considering such trivia," Ginger angrily said. "All I want to do is catch them!"
"I can't understand this," Leora said. "Marie's married, too."
"She's probably a whore," Ginger said. "I wasn't enough for Taylor! This is probably not the first time, but he won't get by with it, this time!"
Once inside the cabin, Ginger whispered to Leora, "Stay in front. I'll let you know when I need
you.
Ginger walked through the narrow hall, and stopped at the bedroom door. From inside the bedroom, she could hear the bed rattling and Marie's groans. She flung the door open, and switched on the light.
Taylor quickly turned over. "What th--?"
"What are you doing here, you damn bastard?" Ginger screamed. "Why aren't you at home with your wife and children?"
"Uh--I--what are you doing here? How did you get here?"
"What do you mean? I'm going to take both of you to court!" Ginger cried.
Leora entered. "Well, let's get dressed! You never know who else might be coming by!"
"This is no time for jokes," Marie chimed in.
"Stay out of it," Taylor said to Marie. "You better get dressed and get out of here."
Ginger and Leora said nothing, and walked out.
As the two women headed home, Leora said, "I think you've proved your point, Ginger. I'll be your witness, and I'm sure there won't be any problem with alimony! Look, honey, I'm sorry this happened. Life goes on."
"Meet me for church in the morning!" Ginger said.
"Will do!" assured Leora.
Ginger had, for some time, suspected adultery on the part of Taylor and a young, well shaped woman by the name of Marie Jones Treacher.
On the way home, Ginver decided to stop by the country cottage and pick up some recipes she had left there. As she drove toward the cabin, she saw Marie's car parked next to Taylor's. There were no lights on in the cabin. It hit her suddenly, but what she had been suspecting for months, she now realized was true. She turned around, and headed for town.
Ginger went to the home of her best friend, Leora Carter, who had recently been divorced. Ginger and Leora intimately shared each other's secrets. Leora was ready, at any time, for Ginger to call on her as a witness to a divorce case.
Ginger went to the door. After ringing the doorbell, she heard Leora approaching.
"Hello, dear," Leora, in her housecoat, said.
"I'm in trouble," Ginger said, "and I need your help."
As the two sat down, Leora lit a cigarette. "What's the matter, Ginger?"
"Did you go to John and Clara's party tonight?"
"Yes. I didn't stay long, though."
"Do you remember seeing Taylor?"
"Let me see," Leora thought back. "Uh--yes! He had to leave, though."
"I see," Ginger said. "Oh, Leora, I know this sounds like an inquest, but did he return?"
"I don't know. When I left, he had not."
"I have a funny feeling something is going on."
"You mean--Marie Treacher?"
"Yes," Ginger said. "I decided to come home early. I stopped by the cabin on the way, and saw her car parked by my husband's!"
"Oh, God," Leora said. "All this time--along along, I thought you were only imagining these terrible things!"
"Leora, do you think you can be a witness for me tonight?"
Leora thought about her two small children, asleep, upstairs.
"The children--I can't just leave them here."
"I'm desperate," Ginger said. "You must come to the cabin with me! I've got to get to that cabin."
"I'll arrange something," Leora said.
Leora made sure the lights of her next door neighbor were on, and telephoned her.
"Catherine, I'm sorry to call this late, but do you think you could come over here and sit with Melvin and Susan for a little while. I won't be gone long, and they're asleep."
"Certainly," the neighbor said. "Cathy just got home from a date. She hasn't gone to bed yet. I'll send her over."
"Thank you very much, Catherine," Leora said.
After Leora dressed, the two women headed for the cabin.
The two cars were plainly in sight, still at the cabin, as ginger and Leora drove up.
"Get the keys out of the glove compartment," Ginger said.
"Ginger, I'm nervous about this. Suppose they have a gun."
"I'm not even considering such trivia," Ginger angrily said. "All I want to do is catch them!"
"I can't understand this," Leora said. "Marie's married, too."
"She's probably a whore," Ginger said. "I wasn't enough for Taylor! This is probably not the first time, but he won't get by with it, this time!"
Once inside the cabin, Ginger whispered to Leora, "Stay in front. I'll let you know when I need
you.
Ginger walked through the narrow hall, and stopped at the bedroom door. From inside the bedroom, she could hear the bed rattling and Marie's groans. She flung the door open, and switched on the light.
Taylor quickly turned over. "What th--?"
"What are you doing here, you damn bastard?" Ginger screamed. "Why aren't you at home with your wife and children?"
"Uh--I--what are you doing here? How did you get here?"
"What do you mean? I'm going to take both of you to court!" Ginger cried.
Leora entered. "Well, let's get dressed! You never know who else might be coming by!"
"This is no time for jokes," Marie chimed in.
"Stay out of it," Taylor said to Marie. "You better get dressed and get out of here."
Ginger and Leora said nothing, and walked out.
As the two women headed home, Leora said, "I think you've proved your point, Ginger. I'll be your witness, and I'm sure there won't be any problem with alimony! Look, honey, I'm sorry this happened. Life goes on."
"Meet me for church in the morning!" Ginger said.
"Will do!" assured Leora.
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 4
There were no guests still at the Madison's house when Sam and Joycie returned around midnight.
As they walked up the sidewalk, Joycie said, "Please come in. My grandparents are probably drunk. They won't care."
"No way, baby," Sam said, as he stuck his near empty pint of vodka in his back pocket. "Let's go to the garage apartment."
Trembling both in eager anticipation of private time with Sam, and fear of being caught, Joycie agreed.
As they proceeded toward the garage, Clara, garbage bag in tow, stepped outside the back door
"You're just in time help clean up, kids!" Clara said.
"Maybe you better go home after all," Joycie said to Sam. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I wanna stay, baby doll," Sam said. "Let's go upstairs!"
Sam boldly proceeded toward the unlocked apartment and went inside.
"Can he drive home?" Clara asked.
"Don't worry, Grandma," Joycie replied. "Let me help you, then I'll check on him."
"I hardly think it's appropriate that you go up there alone with him at this hour!"
"Appropriate?" Joycie snapped. "What's been going on here all night?"
"Young lady, I don't want your grandad upset!" Clara replied, as she saw John headed in their direction. "Go on up there, but come down as soon as you can!"
Joycie rushed up to the apartment. As she and Sam were getting comfortable on the sofa, John's footsteps could be heard headed in their direction. Without knocking, John swung the door open.
"How was the party?" Sam, in a low, drunken voice, asked.
John said nothing.
"Well," Sam said, louder, "How was it?"
"What the hell's wrong with you?" John asked.
"Sam was just asking about your party!" Joycie replied.
"Well, I think it's time he goes home!" John said.
As Sam tried to rise to his feet, he fell back on the sofa. Instead of trying to get up again, he reached into his back pocket for the bottle.
"No!" Joycie whispered. "Put it back!"
Suddenly, John, moving closer to Sam, asked, "What are you trying to hide from me?"
"Nothing," Sam replied, pushing the bottle back into his pocket.
"What difference does it make?" a suddenly angry Joycie asked. "Show him, Sam!"
"Want the rest?" Sam laughed, retrieving the bottle.
"I should have known!" John said. "You're drunk, you young slob!"
"We've both been drinking!" Joycie said. "Don't get so upset!"
"Why?" John asked. "Why have you been drinking?"
"Why?" Joycie replied. "What do you mean--why? What the hell do you think has been going on here all night? It looks like you've been serving liquor as if it's going out of style! How many empty glasses are down there?"
"I don't care what's been going on here!" John angrily replied. "I certainly don't approve of my granddaughter drinking behind my back! We don't see much of you, what with your mother living in Florida, but your late dad was our only son. We'll never know if the accident that killed him was alcohol related or not. He was driving along Highway 61 and his accelerator got stuck and you know what happened next!"
"I was just a baby then," Joycie replied. "I'm sorry if we've hurt you, but I'm college age now, and my mom doesn't have a problem with me drinking a little."
"You are responsible for this mess, Masters!" John said to Sam. "You led my granddaughter to drink!"
"That's not true," Joycie said. "I drank on my own accord!"
"I don't want you around here," John said to Sam.
"You're very unreasonable!" Joycie said.
"No, I'm not!" JOhn yelled. "I just don't want anybody around here that's going to--to harm you!"
Sam and Joycie looked at each other, and laughed. Without further discussion, Sam left.
"I know you're only visiting here a short while, honey," John said. "I can't stop you from seeing him, but I'm warning you--be careful!"
In silence, Joycie went to her room.
As they walked up the sidewalk, Joycie said, "Please come in. My grandparents are probably drunk. They won't care."
"No way, baby," Sam said, as he stuck his near empty pint of vodka in his back pocket. "Let's go to the garage apartment."
Trembling both in eager anticipation of private time with Sam, and fear of being caught, Joycie agreed.
As they proceeded toward the garage, Clara, garbage bag in tow, stepped outside the back door
"You're just in time help clean up, kids!" Clara said.
"Maybe you better go home after all," Joycie said to Sam. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I wanna stay, baby doll," Sam said. "Let's go upstairs!"
Sam boldly proceeded toward the unlocked apartment and went inside.
"Can he drive home?" Clara asked.
"Don't worry, Grandma," Joycie replied. "Let me help you, then I'll check on him."
"I hardly think it's appropriate that you go up there alone with him at this hour!"
"Appropriate?" Joycie snapped. "What's been going on here all night?"
"Young lady, I don't want your grandad upset!" Clara replied, as she saw John headed in their direction. "Go on up there, but come down as soon as you can!"
Joycie rushed up to the apartment. As she and Sam were getting comfortable on the sofa, John's footsteps could be heard headed in their direction. Without knocking, John swung the door open.
"How was the party?" Sam, in a low, drunken voice, asked.
John said nothing.
"Well," Sam said, louder, "How was it?"
"What the hell's wrong with you?" John asked.
"Sam was just asking about your party!" Joycie replied.
"Well, I think it's time he goes home!" John said.
As Sam tried to rise to his feet, he fell back on the sofa. Instead of trying to get up again, he reached into his back pocket for the bottle.
"No!" Joycie whispered. "Put it back!"
Suddenly, John, moving closer to Sam, asked, "What are you trying to hide from me?"
"Nothing," Sam replied, pushing the bottle back into his pocket.
"What difference does it make?" a suddenly angry Joycie asked. "Show him, Sam!"
"Want the rest?" Sam laughed, retrieving the bottle.
"I should have known!" John said. "You're drunk, you young slob!"
"We've both been drinking!" Joycie said. "Don't get so upset!"
"Why?" John asked. "Why have you been drinking?"
"Why?" Joycie replied. "What do you mean--why? What the hell do you think has been going on here all night? It looks like you've been serving liquor as if it's going out of style! How many empty glasses are down there?"
"I don't care what's been going on here!" John angrily replied. "I certainly don't approve of my granddaughter drinking behind my back! We don't see much of you, what with your mother living in Florida, but your late dad was our only son. We'll never know if the accident that killed him was alcohol related or not. He was driving along Highway 61 and his accelerator got stuck and you know what happened next!"
"I was just a baby then," Joycie replied. "I'm sorry if we've hurt you, but I'm college age now, and my mom doesn't have a problem with me drinking a little."
"You are responsible for this mess, Masters!" John said to Sam. "You led my granddaughter to drink!"
"That's not true," Joycie said. "I drank on my own accord!"
"I don't want you around here," John said to Sam.
"You're very unreasonable!" Joycie said.
"No, I'm not!" JOhn yelled. "I just don't want anybody around here that's going to--to harm you!"
Sam and Joycie looked at each other, and laughed. Without further discussion, Sam left.
"I know you're only visiting here a short while, honey," John said. "I can't stop you from seeing him, but I'm warning you--be careful!"
In silence, Joycie went to her room.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Correction to previous blog
Actually, Chapter 3 of book 1 of Winners and Losers begins prior to the paragraph which begins, "Prominent at the party were a loud, slaphappy acting couple--," so the previous post should have read that it was chapters 2 and 3. The next post will be from book 1, The Gentiles, chapter 4.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Winners and Losers, book 1, chapter 2
As the guests headed to the Madison's party, it was evident that speing had officially arrived in Cole. Many of the legendary flowers and trees that drew so many of the tourists who passed through the tiny town were in full bloom, lining the neat, well planned streets. Sweet, much welcomed sounds of the season prevailed. Older folks who, in the winter, rarely left their warm homes, were beginning to show signs of life again--taking walks, going downtown, getting their "color" back. Winter colds were clearing up. School was nearing an end. The public librarian began planning the summer reading program. The swimming pool and recreational area were being painted and spruced up. Trees and grass were greening. A familiar warmth existed not only in the weather, but in the people, most of whom were more hospitable to each other at this time of the year. And it was in this hospitable spirit that John and Clara had decided to throw this party, which, by eight pm, was in full swing.
Guests were coming and going; some would just briefly drop in, and some would stay for hours.
One brief visitor was Janie Engle, an attractive, fifty year old divorcee who operated the ladies beauty parlor in Cole. Only a few minutes after she walked out the back door, her ex husband, Mark, entered the front door. Dr. Taylor Baker, an aging loudmouth and two timing husband, had to notice the near meeting of the divorced couple.
"Hey, Mark," Taylor shouted, patting Mark's back, "your ex wife just walked out the back door!"
"I don't give a damn!" Mark replied, walking to the bar.
Much chatter followed. People rambled on with such petty remarks as, "Janie is dating some army fellow now," or, "Mark's personality hasn't changed a bit." Mark was distressed by what he knew was nobody's business but his and Janie's, and he wished, for the moment, that he could lift all those whom he overheard gossip about the situation up and throw them out the front door. As he circulated around the house, Mark had memories, good and bad, of his twenty year marriage to the former Janie Rogers, who'd been the most beautiful girl of Cole High School.
During those ever difficult teenage years, they'd dated. On graduation night, they decided they belonged together permanently, and eloped to Alabama. They returned to Cole several days later, much to the relief of their families, and settled. Mark went to work on his family plantation, and Janie opened her small beauty parlor. Times were tough. Janie soon learned that she would not be able to bear children.
They planned to leave Cole, but Janie's mother became ill. Thus, they stayed to care for her. by the time she died, the couple was well settled in Cole, by which time Mark was working for the post office, and Janie had established her beautician business profitably.
For their sixteenth wedding anniversary, they'd planned to spend a weekend on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Mark forgot, Janie cried, and, for the next four years, they fought like "cats and dogs." Janie developed ulcers, and Mark was always coming up with an excuse for her absence at gatherings. Finally, they agreed that both would be happier apart. They decided, although Cole was small, they could avoid each other. They parted without regret.
Then only sad part about the whole divorce was that most of their friends in Cole felt that Mark and Janie were, apart, unhappy. After all, they figured, who could happily, after twenty years of marriage, part? As Mark and Janie knew, they could! However, that fact didn't stop their friends. Thus, whenever there was a party, both were invited. When, by chance, they did meet, it wasn't too painful. The only painful part was the people who made something out of it.
Prominent at the party were a loud, slaphappy acting couple, Jim and Fifi Ballinger. They were the "fuhn" couple of their group, regularly partying, dancing, and drinking. Occasionally, though, they would have a small argument and Jim would usually end up leaving, Fifi getting drunker and sadder all the while. tonight, their afgument had become more than a "spat," and Jim ended up grabbing Fifi by the neck and saying, "Let's go home, dear--we'll settle this later!"
About fifteen minutes after they left, Clara confronted Taylor, addressing him as "Dr. Baker," which Taylor knew probably meant he had a professional call over the telephone. "Dr. Baker," Clara continued, "you have a call."
"I should have known," Taylor said. "I can't go anywhere without having a call!" Calming down, he went to the telephone.
Bob Armstrong was helping at the bar, near the telephone, and couldn't help noticing the weird expression on Taylor's face. After the doctor hung up, he got his coat.
"You're not going!" Clara politely said.
"Afraid I must," Taylor apologized, "but I'll be back. This shouldn't take too long!"
"Well," Clara sighed, "do try and come back."
The call had been from Jim Ballinger. The argument that began at the Madison home had ended in a violent physical encounter in the kitchen of Jim and Fifi.
After more drinks and cursing each other, Fifi, in a fit of anger, grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed Jim. Jim managed to grab the extinguisher from Fifi, and knock her down. Bruises had formed on her arm, and her lip bled.
"Come on in, Taylor," Jim said, at the back door.
"What the hell has been going on here?" Taylor asked, noticing the mess on the floor and Jim's torn shirt.
"I'm afraid Fifi and I went a little too far this time," Jim said, as Taylor followed him back to the bedroom. "Sometimes we aren't the fun couple we seem to be!"
Fifi, laying on the bed, cried, "Just--just stay away from me!"
"Taylor is here to look at you," Jim said. "I don't think you're well, Fifi!"
"You're out of your mind!" Fifi shouted. "Why don't you get the hell out of this house? I don't need a doctor! I need a new husband!"
"Shut up!" Jim said. "Taylor is going to look at you!"
"That lip might require a stitch or two--I'm not sure," Taylor said, as he began his examination.
"Why don't you sew her whole mouth up?" Jim replied. "It would keep her quiet for awhile!"
"I think you better go in the kitchen for awhile, Jim," Taylor replied. "Fifi doesn't need all these snide remarks."
Jim, turning toward Fifi, said, "I'm sorry. I'll be cleaning up in the kitchen." He left the room.
"If oyu put stitches in this lip, how long will I need them?" Fifi asked.
"You won't need them," Taylor replied. After a pregnant pause, he asked, "do you and Jim fight like this very often?"
Fifi said nothing.
"If you do," Taylor continued, "you should stop it before you kill each other."
"I'm so sorry we made you leave the party, Taylor," Fifi apologized. "This type thing has never happened before."
Doubting Fifi's assertion, Taylor said, "I understand," as he closed his medical bag.
They arranged for an appointment for a check up, and Fifi thanked him for his kindness.
On the way back to the party, Taylor became very angry about the Ballinger's misbehavior, and decided to get drunk when he returned to the party, and not be bothered by anything.
"So glad you could come back!" said Clara, greeting Taylor. "Everything settled?"
Taylor laughed, and announced, "Jim just beat up Fifi!"
By ten thirty pm, no one at the party was feeling any pain. Music was playing, and several couples were dancing. The telephone rang again. Bob answered.
"Is Taylor Baker there?" a soft, female voice asked.
"He isn't taking any more calls tonight," Bob replied.
"Oh, I think he'll take this one. Please get him."
Bob approached Taylor.
"You have another phone call, Doc."
"Tell 'em to get another doctor!" Taylor hollered.
"You might want to take this one!" Bob replied.
Suddenly remembering whom it might be, Taylor staggered to the phone.
"Hello," he said, his expression brightening. "Yeah--don't worry about that--my wife is at her mother's--I'll be there in about ten minutes, baby." With that, he hung up. Unbeknownst to him, several at the party knew what was going on.
After Taylor left, he headed for a cottage he owned about ten miles out in the country.
Guests were coming and going; some would just briefly drop in, and some would stay for hours.
One brief visitor was Janie Engle, an attractive, fifty year old divorcee who operated the ladies beauty parlor in Cole. Only a few minutes after she walked out the back door, her ex husband, Mark, entered the front door. Dr. Taylor Baker, an aging loudmouth and two timing husband, had to notice the near meeting of the divorced couple.
"Hey, Mark," Taylor shouted, patting Mark's back, "your ex wife just walked out the back door!"
"I don't give a damn!" Mark replied, walking to the bar.
Much chatter followed. People rambled on with such petty remarks as, "Janie is dating some army fellow now," or, "Mark's personality hasn't changed a bit." Mark was distressed by what he knew was nobody's business but his and Janie's, and he wished, for the moment, that he could lift all those whom he overheard gossip about the situation up and throw them out the front door. As he circulated around the house, Mark had memories, good and bad, of his twenty year marriage to the former Janie Rogers, who'd been the most beautiful girl of Cole High School.
During those ever difficult teenage years, they'd dated. On graduation night, they decided they belonged together permanently, and eloped to Alabama. They returned to Cole several days later, much to the relief of their families, and settled. Mark went to work on his family plantation, and Janie opened her small beauty parlor. Times were tough. Janie soon learned that she would not be able to bear children.
They planned to leave Cole, but Janie's mother became ill. Thus, they stayed to care for her. by the time she died, the couple was well settled in Cole, by which time Mark was working for the post office, and Janie had established her beautician business profitably.
For their sixteenth wedding anniversary, they'd planned to spend a weekend on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Mark forgot, Janie cried, and, for the next four years, they fought like "cats and dogs." Janie developed ulcers, and Mark was always coming up with an excuse for her absence at gatherings. Finally, they agreed that both would be happier apart. They decided, although Cole was small, they could avoid each other. They parted without regret.
Then only sad part about the whole divorce was that most of their friends in Cole felt that Mark and Janie were, apart, unhappy. After all, they figured, who could happily, after twenty years of marriage, part? As Mark and Janie knew, they could! However, that fact didn't stop their friends. Thus, whenever there was a party, both were invited. When, by chance, they did meet, it wasn't too painful. The only painful part was the people who made something out of it.
Prominent at the party were a loud, slaphappy acting couple, Jim and Fifi Ballinger. They were the "fuhn" couple of their group, regularly partying, dancing, and drinking. Occasionally, though, they would have a small argument and Jim would usually end up leaving, Fifi getting drunker and sadder all the while. tonight, their afgument had become more than a "spat," and Jim ended up grabbing Fifi by the neck and saying, "Let's go home, dear--we'll settle this later!"
About fifteen minutes after they left, Clara confronted Taylor, addressing him as "Dr. Baker," which Taylor knew probably meant he had a professional call over the telephone. "Dr. Baker," Clara continued, "you have a call."
"I should have known," Taylor said. "I can't go anywhere without having a call!" Calming down, he went to the telephone.
Bob Armstrong was helping at the bar, near the telephone, and couldn't help noticing the weird expression on Taylor's face. After the doctor hung up, he got his coat.
"You're not going!" Clara politely said.
"Afraid I must," Taylor apologized, "but I'll be back. This shouldn't take too long!"
"Well," Clara sighed, "do try and come back."
The call had been from Jim Ballinger. The argument that began at the Madison home had ended in a violent physical encounter in the kitchen of Jim and Fifi.
After more drinks and cursing each other, Fifi, in a fit of anger, grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed Jim. Jim managed to grab the extinguisher from Fifi, and knock her down. Bruises had formed on her arm, and her lip bled.
"Come on in, Taylor," Jim said, at the back door.
"What the hell has been going on here?" Taylor asked, noticing the mess on the floor and Jim's torn shirt.
"I'm afraid Fifi and I went a little too far this time," Jim said, as Taylor followed him back to the bedroom. "Sometimes we aren't the fun couple we seem to be!"
Fifi, laying on the bed, cried, "Just--just stay away from me!"
"Taylor is here to look at you," Jim said. "I don't think you're well, Fifi!"
"You're out of your mind!" Fifi shouted. "Why don't you get the hell out of this house? I don't need a doctor! I need a new husband!"
"Shut up!" Jim said. "Taylor is going to look at you!"
"That lip might require a stitch or two--I'm not sure," Taylor said, as he began his examination.
"Why don't you sew her whole mouth up?" Jim replied. "It would keep her quiet for awhile!"
"I think you better go in the kitchen for awhile, Jim," Taylor replied. "Fifi doesn't need all these snide remarks."
Jim, turning toward Fifi, said, "I'm sorry. I'll be cleaning up in the kitchen." He left the room.
"If oyu put stitches in this lip, how long will I need them?" Fifi asked.
"You won't need them," Taylor replied. After a pregnant pause, he asked, "do you and Jim fight like this very often?"
Fifi said nothing.
"If you do," Taylor continued, "you should stop it before you kill each other."
"I'm so sorry we made you leave the party, Taylor," Fifi apologized. "This type thing has never happened before."
Doubting Fifi's assertion, Taylor said, "I understand," as he closed his medical bag.
They arranged for an appointment for a check up, and Fifi thanked him for his kindness.
On the way back to the party, Taylor became very angry about the Ballinger's misbehavior, and decided to get drunk when he returned to the party, and not be bothered by anything.
"So glad you could come back!" said Clara, greeting Taylor. "Everything settled?"
Taylor laughed, and announced, "Jim just beat up Fifi!"
By ten thirty pm, no one at the party was feeling any pain. Music was playing, and several couples were dancing. The telephone rang again. Bob answered.
"Is Taylor Baker there?" a soft, female voice asked.
"He isn't taking any more calls tonight," Bob replied.
"Oh, I think he'll take this one. Please get him."
Bob approached Taylor.
"You have another phone call, Doc."
"Tell 'em to get another doctor!" Taylor hollered.
"You might want to take this one!" Bob replied.
Suddenly remembering whom it might be, Taylor staggered to the phone.
"Hello," he said, his expression brightening. "Yeah--don't worry about that--my wife is at her mother's--I'll be there in about ten minutes, baby." With that, he hung up. Unbeknownst to him, several at the party knew what was going on.
After Taylor left, he headed for a cottage he owned about ten miles out in the country.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Winners and Losers, book 1, The Gentiles
"And we humbly beseech thee, of thy goodness, O Lord, to comfort and succour all those who, in this transitory life, are in trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity." Episcopal Book of Common Prayer, 1928
Chapter 1
Eighty year old Bob Armstrong sat down by his rotary telephone, lifted the receiver, and dialed 0 for the operator.
"Give me New Orleans, area code five zero four, six nine one zero one two five."
Bob was calling his wife, Julia, who was visiting their daughter, thirty nine year old Mary Anne.
Mary Anne, in her third month of pregnancy, had been having some problems. She had only one other child; a twelve year old boy, Clarence, and was just as surprised as everyone else when she learned she was, after all these years, again pregnant. Julia went immediately to New Orleans when she learned of Mary Anne's difficulties, and helped her with the cooking and housework. Julia saw to it that Mary Anne stayed in bed as much as possible. Mary Anne's husband, Carson Toddman, was on the road a lot in his pharmaceutical business.
"Julia, this is Bob. How is everything?"
"I feel like I'm the one in labor!" Julia replied, in her usual caustic manner. "I might take this baby and feed it to the alligators!"
"Hell fire, Julia," Bob replied, "don't talk like that!"
"Are you eating all right?" Julia asked.
"Yeah," bob answered, "John and Clara across the street are feeding me every day. They're good neighbors. I insisted on paying them, of course, and John's so tight he wouldn't have it any other way!"
"Certainly," Julia replied. "Have they thrown any parties since I've been gone?"
"That's why I called, honey. I didn't want to miss you if you called here tonight, so I called you first. I'm going to John and Clara's in just a little while for cocktails."
"What's the occasion?"
"Nothing, really. They're just getting some old friends together."
"Well, Julia cautioned, "for God's sake, don't drink too much. I don't want you to fall and break your neck on the way home."
"Well," Bob replied, "until the town of Cole fixes the broken streetlights, getting across the street at night is a challenge for even a sober man! I promise I'll be careful, though. I'll give you a report on it tomorrow."
"I'm sure you will! By the way, has young Kevin been by to see you?"
"No, not yet."
"Well, he said he'd come by and help you with anything you need. I guess his schoolwork takes up a lot of time--he might be having tests or something. Has the maid been by?"
"Yes, and she's careful as ever dusting around all your old silver and stuff."
"Well, tell her to be extra careful dusting the frames of the portraits. Some art history gal from Atlanta whose doing her dissertation on painter Thomas Healy wants to visit soon and look at our antebellum portraits."
"Hope she doesn't find any skeletons in the closet!" Bob laughed.
"Bye!" Julia replied, as she slammed the receiver on her end, down.
At the Madison home, directly across the street from Bob and Julia's, Clara and John were awaiting the arrival of guests.
"How does it look?" asled Clara, surveying the spotless living room and adjoining bar.
"Couldn't be nicer," John, already drinking, replied.
The doorbell rang. John answered. "Greetings, neighbor," he welcomed bob.
"Thought I'd come by a little early," bob said. "After all, you two are feeding me well. It'll do me good to help you!"
"How is Mary Anne?" asked Clara.
"We really don't know," Bob replied. "She's mighty tough, though. It's not every day that a woman who is almost forty has a baby!"
"Will Julia be there until the baby is born?" Clara asked.
"Hell, no!" Bob laughed. "She's too damn restless for that!"
Joycie Madison, the attractive eighteen year granddaughter of John and Clara who was visiting from Florida for a few weeks, entered.
"How's my honey?" Bob asked, as the two hugged.
"I'm fine, Mr. Bob," Joycie replied.
"Joycie has a date with Sam Masters tonight," Clara said.
"Oh-oh!" bob laughed.
Kevin Savacier, too, had a good laugh when he'd, some months earlier, received a better at summer camp from his friend, Donnie Back, who talltled that when he and some mutual friends were going around town one night looking for bicycles to borrow to ride, they heard strange sounds emitting from the garage apartment behind the Madison house. Climbing up the side tree and peering inside the lighted room, they saw, according to Donnie's letter, "Sam and Joycie [were] screwing. He had his fist up her pussy, and she was beating him off! You'd have thought they'd at least have had the courtesy to close the curtains, but I guess they didn't think anyone would climb the tree to look inside, man!"
In the more subdued company of older folks inside the main house now, Joycie just blushed. "Sam's okay, Mr. Bob."
"Come in at a decent hour, honey," John said.
"Certainly," Joycie replied. "I'll get out of your way now so you can get ready for your party. See ya later!"
"When I was a girl, I'd have never acted so anxious. In those days, young ladies waited insude until their callers arrived," said Clara, Joycie having already left before Clara concluded her comments.
Bob again laughed, and recalled a tempestuous courtship of himself and Julia, fifty years earlier.
Chapter 1
Eighty year old Bob Armstrong sat down by his rotary telephone, lifted the receiver, and dialed 0 for the operator.
"Give me New Orleans, area code five zero four, six nine one zero one two five."
Bob was calling his wife, Julia, who was visiting their daughter, thirty nine year old Mary Anne.
Mary Anne, in her third month of pregnancy, had been having some problems. She had only one other child; a twelve year old boy, Clarence, and was just as surprised as everyone else when she learned she was, after all these years, again pregnant. Julia went immediately to New Orleans when she learned of Mary Anne's difficulties, and helped her with the cooking and housework. Julia saw to it that Mary Anne stayed in bed as much as possible. Mary Anne's husband, Carson Toddman, was on the road a lot in his pharmaceutical business.
"Julia, this is Bob. How is everything?"
"I feel like I'm the one in labor!" Julia replied, in her usual caustic manner. "I might take this baby and feed it to the alligators!"
"Hell fire, Julia," Bob replied, "don't talk like that!"
"Are you eating all right?" Julia asked.
"Yeah," bob answered, "John and Clara across the street are feeding me every day. They're good neighbors. I insisted on paying them, of course, and John's so tight he wouldn't have it any other way!"
"Certainly," Julia replied. "Have they thrown any parties since I've been gone?"
"That's why I called, honey. I didn't want to miss you if you called here tonight, so I called you first. I'm going to John and Clara's in just a little while for cocktails."
"What's the occasion?"
"Nothing, really. They're just getting some old friends together."
"Well, Julia cautioned, "for God's sake, don't drink too much. I don't want you to fall and break your neck on the way home."
"Well," Bob replied, "until the town of Cole fixes the broken streetlights, getting across the street at night is a challenge for even a sober man! I promise I'll be careful, though. I'll give you a report on it tomorrow."
"I'm sure you will! By the way, has young Kevin been by to see you?"
"No, not yet."
"Well, he said he'd come by and help you with anything you need. I guess his schoolwork takes up a lot of time--he might be having tests or something. Has the maid been by?"
"Yes, and she's careful as ever dusting around all your old silver and stuff."
"Well, tell her to be extra careful dusting the frames of the portraits. Some art history gal from Atlanta whose doing her dissertation on painter Thomas Healy wants to visit soon and look at our antebellum portraits."
"Hope she doesn't find any skeletons in the closet!" Bob laughed.
"Bye!" Julia replied, as she slammed the receiver on her end, down.
At the Madison home, directly across the street from Bob and Julia's, Clara and John were awaiting the arrival of guests.
"How does it look?" asled Clara, surveying the spotless living room and adjoining bar.
"Couldn't be nicer," John, already drinking, replied.
The doorbell rang. John answered. "Greetings, neighbor," he welcomed bob.
"Thought I'd come by a little early," bob said. "After all, you two are feeding me well. It'll do me good to help you!"
"How is Mary Anne?" asked Clara.
"We really don't know," Bob replied. "She's mighty tough, though. It's not every day that a woman who is almost forty has a baby!"
"Will Julia be there until the baby is born?" Clara asked.
"Hell, no!" Bob laughed. "She's too damn restless for that!"
Joycie Madison, the attractive eighteen year granddaughter of John and Clara who was visiting from Florida for a few weeks, entered.
"How's my honey?" Bob asked, as the two hugged.
"I'm fine, Mr. Bob," Joycie replied.
"Joycie has a date with Sam Masters tonight," Clara said.
"Oh-oh!" bob laughed.
Kevin Savacier, too, had a good laugh when he'd, some months earlier, received a better at summer camp from his friend, Donnie Back, who talltled that when he and some mutual friends were going around town one night looking for bicycles to borrow to ride, they heard strange sounds emitting from the garage apartment behind the Madison house. Climbing up the side tree and peering inside the lighted room, they saw, according to Donnie's letter, "Sam and Joycie [were] screwing. He had his fist up her pussy, and she was beating him off! You'd have thought they'd at least have had the courtesy to close the curtains, but I guess they didn't think anyone would climb the tree to look inside, man!"
In the more subdued company of older folks inside the main house now, Joycie just blushed. "Sam's okay, Mr. Bob."
"Come in at a decent hour, honey," John said.
"Certainly," Joycie replied. "I'll get out of your way now so you can get ready for your party. See ya later!"
"When I was a girl, I'd have never acted so anxious. In those days, young ladies waited insude until their callers arrived," said Clara, Joycie having already left before Clara concluded her comments.
Bob again laughed, and recalled a tempestuous courtship of himself and Julia, fifty years earlier.
prologue to Winners and Losers, part 3
From the journal of Kevin Savacier
August 14, 1973
As I get ready to return to college, I just happened to run across this wacky journal I kept in high school. Man, what a trip! What's really incredible about all this, though, is that it really happened! When I left the "sticks" of Cole (my still beautiful hometown that I'll always cherish, though I don't plan to move back here after I graduate), it didn't really hit me how sheltered and parochial I'd been until I made a lot of friends from all over the world at Tulane University in New Orleans. New Orleans is a lot of fun, but to this day, my friends there don't believe some of this shit that went on in Cole. If Tommy McLarin wasn't around to back me up (remember, he's the guy I grew up with who moved away when his folks closed their jewelry business in Cole, and we ended up together again at Tulane), they'd never believe some of my stories! But my gang at Tulane is all so cool I don't even get pissed off any more when they call Cole "the sticks." In a way, it is, but, man, those are some peaceful roads and I'll always respect the values I was taught there which have, in some ways, kept me out of a lot of trouble here in the often wilder city!
"Kevin," my mom recently told me, "if I hear that song, 'Mama don't take my kodachrome away' over your radio once more, I'm going to smash the damn radio!" Well, now that I'm looking over this journal, I can't help but think of another song of today, the Carpenters' "Yesterday Once More."
August 14, 1973
As I get ready to return to college, I just happened to run across this wacky journal I kept in high school. Man, what a trip! What's really incredible about all this, though, is that it really happened! When I left the "sticks" of Cole (my still beautiful hometown that I'll always cherish, though I don't plan to move back here after I graduate), it didn't really hit me how sheltered and parochial I'd been until I made a lot of friends from all over the world at Tulane University in New Orleans. New Orleans is a lot of fun, but to this day, my friends there don't believe some of this shit that went on in Cole. If Tommy McLarin wasn't around to back me up (remember, he's the guy I grew up with who moved away when his folks closed their jewelry business in Cole, and we ended up together again at Tulane), they'd never believe some of my stories! But my gang at Tulane is all so cool I don't even get pissed off any more when they call Cole "the sticks." In a way, it is, but, man, those are some peaceful roads and I'll always respect the values I was taught there which have, in some ways, kept me out of a lot of trouble here in the often wilder city!
"Kevin," my mom recently told me, "if I hear that song, 'Mama don't take my kodachrome away' over your radio once more, I'm going to smash the damn radio!" Well, now that I'm looking over this journal, I can't help but think of another song of today, the Carpenters' "Yesterday Once More."
Friday, July 1, 2011
Winners and Losers prologue, part 2
[From the journal of Kevin Savacier, age 17, February 17, 1970]
True, our town and county have had a very historic past! Antebellum structures in various states of repair are all over the place, not to mention the written record of peoples achievements here, but at the present, I see little hope for a future unless some things shape up, not the least of which is the behavior (or lack thereof) of many of our populace. Small town people being what they are, there's a lot of loose talk going around. I've also noticed some serious prejudice from some of our white merchants, and I can't help believing that these outdated opinions led to the closing of several of our businesses which included: McDavid's Pharmacy; Borden Distributing Company; Abbie's Fashions; Jen's five and ten cent store.
One building that I'm concerned about in particular is the solemn old structure on the corner of Wallis and Main Street, facing Main. Not long ago, this building housed Silverman Drug Store, anderson's hardware, the Kiwanis Hall, McLarin Jewelers, and a dancing school. It is now completely empty, not because of the businesses closing, but because those businesses moved to other buildings. The only store completely closed was McLarin's (the family, I'm told, having moved to New Orleans), and I really miss my buddy, Tommy McLarin, though we're keeping in touch, and he's invited me to visit him in New Orleans after school's out this summer. Tommy recently wrote that his mom and dad inherited some family property near downtown, and recently opened another jewelry store near Canal Street.
Meanwhile, back here in "little ole" Cole, I think our downtown situation is really pathetic.
We do have two large banks; four grocery stores; and a large hardware store. Also, there are three men's clothing stores, and one women's store. A barber shop is on one end of Main Street, and a beauty parlor, a couple of blocks north of the barber shop. If these businesses are to survive, we must support them. "Trade at home," as the Chamber of Commerce slogan goes.
We also have two furniture stores, four lawyers, two dentists, and three doctors, that I know of.
Several gasoline service stations and other stores are around town, but I can't name them all. The two cleaners and one remaining jewelry store are doing "par," it seems to me, "for the course."
People really need to "trade at home." Don't get products elsewhere that can be gotten in Cole.
Such things as records and mail order equipment are rare here, but there is positively no excuse to buy a car elsewhere, when we have two legitimate car dealers (one of whom will send your film off to be developed!_.
As for the drugstores, we've two. That's all I will say for the drugstores!
There's not a lot to do in Cole. My mom and dad don't have to nag me much about getting a summer job, though, as I work year round for one of our neighbors, Mr. Garton, better known to locals as "gart" or, to the younger, "Uncle Gart." Uncle Gart runs the two movie theatres we have, and he keeps me busy on weekends alternating between the indoor theatre downtown (named, aptly, "Downtown Theatre") and the more exciting drive in theatre, a few miles south of town, called "The Auto Vue." Dad's an insurance salesman, and Mom works part time t the Chamber of Commerce, so I probably hear more than my share of gossip. I think I'll write a lot of it down over the next few months. For a small town, Cole has a diverse ethnic breakdown. The way I see it, it's basically three groups: the Gentiles, composed of mostly white and colored people who attend the six churches that attractively line the main drag through town, Cotton Street,and a few churches in outlying areas. Then, there are the Jews. It's always been interesting to me that such a small town in rural Mississippi would have a substantial jewish population, but according to my grandparents, it was really a lot largerr in past years, and many of them intermarried and/or moved on. Finally, there is also a distinct segment of Lebanese. These folks are, of course, also Gentile, but I think the stories of the ones I know are interesting, lo, even spicy enough to give them their own "book," if you will, that book comprising the closing of this three part story.
True, our town and county have had a very historic past! Antebellum structures in various states of repair are all over the place, not to mention the written record of peoples achievements here, but at the present, I see little hope for a future unless some things shape up, not the least of which is the behavior (or lack thereof) of many of our populace. Small town people being what they are, there's a lot of loose talk going around. I've also noticed some serious prejudice from some of our white merchants, and I can't help believing that these outdated opinions led to the closing of several of our businesses which included: McDavid's Pharmacy; Borden Distributing Company; Abbie's Fashions; Jen's five and ten cent store.
One building that I'm concerned about in particular is the solemn old structure on the corner of Wallis and Main Street, facing Main. Not long ago, this building housed Silverman Drug Store, anderson's hardware, the Kiwanis Hall, McLarin Jewelers, and a dancing school. It is now completely empty, not because of the businesses closing, but because those businesses moved to other buildings. The only store completely closed was McLarin's (the family, I'm told, having moved to New Orleans), and I really miss my buddy, Tommy McLarin, though we're keeping in touch, and he's invited me to visit him in New Orleans after school's out this summer. Tommy recently wrote that his mom and dad inherited some family property near downtown, and recently opened another jewelry store near Canal Street.
Meanwhile, back here in "little ole" Cole, I think our downtown situation is really pathetic.
We do have two large banks; four grocery stores; and a large hardware store. Also, there are three men's clothing stores, and one women's store. A barber shop is on one end of Main Street, and a beauty parlor, a couple of blocks north of the barber shop. If these businesses are to survive, we must support them. "Trade at home," as the Chamber of Commerce slogan goes.
We also have two furniture stores, four lawyers, two dentists, and three doctors, that I know of.
Several gasoline service stations and other stores are around town, but I can't name them all. The two cleaners and one remaining jewelry store are doing "par," it seems to me, "for the course."
People really need to "trade at home." Don't get products elsewhere that can be gotten in Cole.
Such things as records and mail order equipment are rare here, but there is positively no excuse to buy a car elsewhere, when we have two legitimate car dealers (one of whom will send your film off to be developed!_.
As for the drugstores, we've two. That's all I will say for the drugstores!
There's not a lot to do in Cole. My mom and dad don't have to nag me much about getting a summer job, though, as I work year round for one of our neighbors, Mr. Garton, better known to locals as "gart" or, to the younger, "Uncle Gart." Uncle Gart runs the two movie theatres we have, and he keeps me busy on weekends alternating between the indoor theatre downtown (named, aptly, "Downtown Theatre") and the more exciting drive in theatre, a few miles south of town, called "The Auto Vue." Dad's an insurance salesman, and Mom works part time t the Chamber of Commerce, so I probably hear more than my share of gossip. I think I'll write a lot of it down over the next few months. For a small town, Cole has a diverse ethnic breakdown. The way I see it, it's basically three groups: the Gentiles, composed of mostly white and colored people who attend the six churches that attractively line the main drag through town, Cotton Street,and a few churches in outlying areas. Then, there are the Jews. It's always been interesting to me that such a small town in rural Mississippi would have a substantial jewish population, but according to my grandparents, it was really a lot largerr in past years, and many of them intermarried and/or moved on. Finally, there is also a distinct segment of Lebanese. These folks are, of course, also Gentile, but I think the stories of the ones I know are interesting, lo, even spicy enough to give them their own "book," if you will, that book comprising the closing of this three part story.
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