away. Every afternoon he watched the sky turn from burnt orange to salmon, pink and lime green to purple. Navy blue and pink clouds were reflected in the water, and as the sun slowly disappeared he watched the river change from teal blue to an iridescent green and gold that reminded him of the color of the tinfoil that came wrapped around expensive candy and then from rich tan to a deep chocolate brown. As the evening became darker, the birds and ducks that flew by became black silhouettes against the sky. He sat each night watching the evening change colors and the currents of the water make circles, until the moon came up behind him and rose over the river.
With the last of the sun fading, he could see the reflection of the green lights on the docks across the way and the stars twinkling in the river like small diamonds. What a show. This was better than any movie he had ever seen, and it was different every night. It was so wonderful at times he felt he wanted to do something about it, to try and stop time, make it last longer, but he didn’t know what to do. How can anyone stop time? He knew with each passing day his own time was running out, and there was nothing anybody could do to stop it. If he could, he would have stopped it right then and there on the river, while he was still well enough to enjoy it.
A few weeks later, Oswald was still feeling well, and Jack was still making everyone laugh except Mildred, and everything was going along as usual until Saturday morning, when Patsy showed up at the store to see Jack. One side of her face was red, and it was obvious that someone had hit her. Roy asked her how it had happened, but she said nothing. Butch, who had been in the store first thing that morning, was in a rage over it. Afterward all six-feet-four-inches and 128 pounds of him stormed down the street to Frances’s house in a fit and threw open the door.
“That just aggravates the fire out of me!”
“What?” asked Frances.
“Somebody hit Patsy!”
“Who?”
“I don’t know!”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. There’s a big old handprint on the side of her face.”
That afternoon an emergency meeting of the Mystic Order of the Royal Polka Dots secret society was called to discuss what could be done. After much talk back and forth, Betty Kitchen allowed that Roy might be right. She said, “There may be nothing we can do without getting those people back there all riled up. You all know what they are like.”
Mildred said, “Trailer trash.”
Frances said, “Oh, now, Mildred, that’s not a very Christian thing to say.”
“No,” said Mildred, “but it’s the truth.”
Butch admired her ability to hit the nail on the head. Frances got back to the point. “Now, I think we all agree that this is definitely a Polka Dot matter, and I think the least we can do is offer to buy her some decent clothes. Here it is, the dead of winter, and the little thing is still running around with no coat or shoes.”
“How much money do we have in our Sunshine fund?” asked Betty.
Frances went over to her gravy boat display, and lifted the top off the third one from the left, and pulled out $82. They took a vote to spend it all on Patsy, and the motion passed unanimously.
Betty said, “The next question is who and how are we going to ask the family if we can do it.”
Mildred said, “Why don’t we just take her to Mobile and do it ourselves? Why ask?”
Frances looked at her. “We can’t just take her, Mildred. They might have us all arrested for kidnapping. That’s all we need is to go to jail.”
“Yes, but if you go back there where they live they’re liable to turn the dogs on you,” warned Dottie. “Or shoot you.”
“Well, two can play that game,” said Butch, patting the sidearm he wore under his shirt. “They’re not the only ones around here with guns, you know.”
“Oh, Lord,” said Frances. “That’s all we need is gunplay.”
“Why don’t we go as a
With the last of the sun fading, he could see the reflection of the green lights on the docks across the way and the stars twinkling in the river like small diamonds. What a show. This was better than any movie he had ever seen, and it was different every night. It was so wonderful at times he felt he wanted to do something about it, to try and stop time, make it last longer, but he didn’t know what to do. How can anyone stop time? He knew with each passing day his own time was running out, and there was nothing anybody could do to stop it. If he could, he would have stopped it right then and there on the river, while he was still well enough to enjoy it.
A few weeks later, Oswald was still feeling well, and Jack was still making everyone laugh except Mildred, and everything was going along as usual until Saturday morning, when Patsy showed up at the store to see Jack. One side of her face was red, and it was obvious that someone had hit her. Roy asked her how it had happened, but she said nothing. Butch, who had been in the store first thing that morning, was in a rage over it. Afterward all six-feet-four-inches and 128 pounds of him stormed down the street to Frances’s house in a fit and threw open the door.
“That just aggravates the fire out of me!”
“What?” asked Frances.
“Somebody hit Patsy!”
“Who?”
“I don’t know!”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. There’s a big old handprint on the side of her face.”
That afternoon an emergency meeting of the Mystic Order of the Royal Polka Dots secret society was called to discuss what could be done. After much talk back and forth, Betty Kitchen allowed that Roy might be right. She said, “There may be nothing we can do without getting those people back there all riled up. You all know what they are like.”
Mildred said, “Trailer trash.”
Frances said, “Oh, now, Mildred, that’s not a very Christian thing to say.”
“No,” said Mildred, “but it’s the truth.”
Butch admired her ability to hit the nail on the head. Frances got back to the point. “Now, I think we all agree that this is definitely a Polka Dot matter, and I think the least we can do is offer to buy her some decent clothes. Here it is, the dead of winter, and the little thing is still running around with no coat or shoes.”
“How much money do we have in our Sunshine fund?” asked Betty.
Frances went over to her gravy boat display, and lifted the top off the third one from the left, and pulled out $82. They took a vote to spend it all on Patsy, and the motion passed unanimously.
Betty said, “The next question is who and how are we going to ask the family if we can do it.”
Mildred said, “Why don’t we just take her to Mobile and do it ourselves? Why ask?”
Frances looked at her. “We can’t just take her, Mildred. They might have us all arrested for kidnapping. That’s all we need is to go to jail.”
“Yes, but if you go back there where they live they’re liable to turn the dogs on you,” warned Dottie. “Or shoot you.”
“Well, two can play that game,” said Butch, patting the sidearm he wore under his shirt. “They’re not the only ones around here with guns, you know.”
“Oh, Lord,” said Frances. “That’s all we need is gunplay.”
“Why don’t we go as a
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