Butter Safe Than Sorry by Tamar Myers Page A

only trying to be fun--will you look at that!"
    We'd been keeping watch on a living room, or perhaps a den, but it had suddenly sprung to life as Pernicious Yoder III entered, followed by a young woman. It took me a moment to recognize Amy, the young teller, because this evening she was dressed casually in jeans and an Obama '08 sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that rode much too high--Okay, I didn't recognize her at all until I heard her name spoken.
    "Thanks for coming, Miss Neubrander," Pernicious said. "I know this is highly irregular, and just so you don't feel too uncomfortable, I want you to know that Mrs. Yoder is in her bedroom watching television."
    "Yes, sir."
    Pernicious gestured for her to sit, which she did, perching like a bird on the edge of a red- and-green-checked wingback chair. He, however, remained standing. He who looms has the most power, I mused.
    "I suppose you're worried," he said, "that I might have some bad news for you. Especially given this economy--Fanny Mae, Freddy Mac--they sound like the Bobbsey Twins, heh, heh. Of course you're too young to remember those books--so am I, as a matter of fact, but I found a box of them in the attic at my grandparents' lake house when I was a boy. Forgive me. The older I get, the more I tend to ramble."
    "That's ridiculous," I hissed under my breath. "That man's no older than I am."
    "So old?" Agnes said, absolutely deadpan.
    I elbowed her--gently, of course. "Shhh."
    "The thing is," Pernicious continued to prattle, "I've come to regard you as a very valuable employee. Very valuable, indeed."
    Amy smiled, but she didn't look happy. "Thank you, sir. I try my best."
    "Yes, well, we at First Farmer's Bank like to reward our valuable employees, to let them know just how much we appreciate them. Therefore, it is my pleasure to inform you that you are being offered a promotion. Your new title will be Chief Assistant Clerk in Training and it comes with a salary increase of six percent."
    Amy gasped softly, touching her bosom with her right hand.
    "But, of course, Miss Neubrander, with a new pay grade come new responsibilities. You realize that, don't you?" Pernicious paused and peered at Amy like a heron about to pounce on a fish.
    "Yes, sir. Uh--what sort of duties, sir? I am a Christian, you know."
    Pernicious, who in my book is a wicked man, snickered. "It's not what you think, young lady. I told you that Mrs. Yoder is in the next room watching her favorite mind-numbing shows. American Idol --ha! What a load of crap. Those kids can't sing a note, if you ask me. Do you sing, Amy?"
    "I'm in the church choir, sir--if that counts."
    "Indeed, it does! Sing something for me, Amy."
    "Here? Now?" The poor child looked like she was about to be executed, and had been asked to choose between hanging and lethal injection.
    "No, a century from now on the moon. Of course here and now! Come on, let me hear something. Anything--one of your favorite hymns. Okay, I'll give you a minute to think about it. In the meantime, I have another favor to ask you."
    Amy squirmed, pushing her way to the rear of the wingback. "Yes, sir."
    "Don't look so scared, Amy. All I'm asking is that, from here on out, any comments you make--to anyone --concerning the--uh--unfortunate event be cleared by me first."
    I couldn't believe my ears! The unfortunate event had almost gotten the poor girl killed. Why on earth would Pernicious put a gag order on something that was a matter of public record anyway?
    The answer had to lie in inbreeding. When we become our own cousins, there is a danger that our thinking will become muddled, especially as we age, which Pernicious, by his own admission, felt he was doing. Shortly after her fiftieth birthday Cousin Feodora Yoder became convinced she was married to her toaster oven. It was a harmless delusion until she took it to bed, where it shorted out, causing second- degree burns on parts of her body that even the Good Lord hadn't seen.
    But Amy was