I had the sensation of being underwater, with beautiful and lifelike fish swimming over my head.
I called out. “Hello! It’s Lee Woodyard.”
“Come on back.” I went into the workshop and found Wildflower working with a large electric stapler, fastening bands of what looked like foam rubber to an animal form. Her back was toward me, and the face of a raccoon looked at me from under her arm. Its eyes were lively, like the lifelike eyes of the raccoon in the display area. I had an uneasy feeling that the raccoon understood what was going on better than I did.
When I tore my eyes away from the raccoon’s gaze and looked around the shop, I saw that Chip Smith was leaning on a worktable, watching her.
Seeing Chip made me feel self-conscious. I remembered only too clearly the fight he and Sissy had had in our living room the previous evening.
Chip first looked dismayed when he saw me. Then his expression changed, and he looked slightly pleased. “Hey!” he said. “Here’s somebody who can back up my story.”
Wildflower looked around at me, and her expression was as blank as the raccoon’s.
“Chip says Sissy is mad at him,” she said.
“I’m also under that imposition—I mean, impression!” I said. Darn! My nervousness had been revealed by my twisted tongue. I went on quickly. “I really don’t blame her, Chip.”
He screwed his face up, looking as if I’d kicked him.
“And acting pitiful won’t get you any sympathy from me,”I said. “Sissy’s in a very difficult situation, and you seem to be making it worse.”
“I’m just trying to show her she has a friend.”
“She has lots of friends. She has me and my aunt and all the ladies at the shop. And that’s enough people to sway public opinion in a town the size of Warner Pier.”
“Yes, but I represent the Ace Smith camp, and I want to show her that not everybody thinks she’s…” His voice trailed off.
Wildflower spoke then, and her voice was sharp. “That not everybody thinks she’s a murderess and an unfit mother?”
“No! How could anyone think those things about Sissy?”
“It’s amazing what a little gossip can do,” Wildflower said.
“That’s what Sissy’s afraid of,” I said. “If she were to go around town with a man, particularly one who was pals with Buzz, it might make people think she’s dating again.”
Chip shook his head. “I don’t want to date her! I just want to show her she’s got a friend.”
Wildflower whacked the raccoon with three more staples. Then she spoke.
“Your intentions may be good, Chip, but Sissy doesn’t need any more talk of any sort right now.”
“I thought you raised Sissy with the idea that she should do what she wanted and forget about gossip.”
“No, Chip, I raised her with the idea she should do what was right—her idea of right—and not try to please everybody else. That’s how you wind up with your ass in a ditch.”
Chip looked puzzled.
“Didn’t you ever read Aesop’s Fables ?” Wildflower asked. “Remember the one about the man and his son taking their donkey to market? The son rides it, but someone says the father should ride. Then the father rides it, but someone says both should ride. Then they both ride it, but people don’t like thateither. Finally they rig a pole and carry the animal—again because of what a passerby says. And they drop the ass in a ditch and kill it.” She paused, then went on. “You’ve got to do what you think is right. And sometimes avoiding talk is the right thing to do. We don’t live in isolation. You’ve got to show some sense.”
It was quite a scolding, and it left Chip looking properly crestfallen. I felt sorry for him, despite my earlier words. After all, Sissy was a darling girl. Obviously guys were going to be interested in her, even if she did choose not to date at the present time. Chip seemed like a healthy, normal male; it was natural that he wanted to pay attention to her.
“I guess I feel guilty,”
I called out. “Hello! It’s Lee Woodyard.”
“Come on back.” I went into the workshop and found Wildflower working with a large electric stapler, fastening bands of what looked like foam rubber to an animal form. Her back was toward me, and the face of a raccoon looked at me from under her arm. Its eyes were lively, like the lifelike eyes of the raccoon in the display area. I had an uneasy feeling that the raccoon understood what was going on better than I did.
When I tore my eyes away from the raccoon’s gaze and looked around the shop, I saw that Chip Smith was leaning on a worktable, watching her.
Seeing Chip made me feel self-conscious. I remembered only too clearly the fight he and Sissy had had in our living room the previous evening.
Chip first looked dismayed when he saw me. Then his expression changed, and he looked slightly pleased. “Hey!” he said. “Here’s somebody who can back up my story.”
Wildflower looked around at me, and her expression was as blank as the raccoon’s.
“Chip says Sissy is mad at him,” she said.
“I’m also under that imposition—I mean, impression!” I said. Darn! My nervousness had been revealed by my twisted tongue. I went on quickly. “I really don’t blame her, Chip.”
He screwed his face up, looking as if I’d kicked him.
“And acting pitiful won’t get you any sympathy from me,”I said. “Sissy’s in a very difficult situation, and you seem to be making it worse.”
“I’m just trying to show her she has a friend.”
“She has lots of friends. She has me and my aunt and all the ladies at the shop. And that’s enough people to sway public opinion in a town the size of Warner Pier.”
“Yes, but I represent the Ace Smith camp, and I want to show her that not everybody thinks she’s…” His voice trailed off.
Wildflower spoke then, and her voice was sharp. “That not everybody thinks she’s a murderess and an unfit mother?”
“No! How could anyone think those things about Sissy?”
“It’s amazing what a little gossip can do,” Wildflower said.
“That’s what Sissy’s afraid of,” I said. “If she were to go around town with a man, particularly one who was pals with Buzz, it might make people think she’s dating again.”
Chip shook his head. “I don’t want to date her! I just want to show her she’s got a friend.”
Wildflower whacked the raccoon with three more staples. Then she spoke.
“Your intentions may be good, Chip, but Sissy doesn’t need any more talk of any sort right now.”
“I thought you raised Sissy with the idea that she should do what she wanted and forget about gossip.”
“No, Chip, I raised her with the idea she should do what was right—her idea of right—and not try to please everybody else. That’s how you wind up with your ass in a ditch.”
Chip looked puzzled.
“Didn’t you ever read Aesop’s Fables ?” Wildflower asked. “Remember the one about the man and his son taking their donkey to market? The son rides it, but someone says the father should ride. Then the father rides it, but someone says both should ride. Then they both ride it, but people don’t like thateither. Finally they rig a pole and carry the animal—again because of what a passerby says. And they drop the ass in a ditch and kill it.” She paused, then went on. “You’ve got to do what you think is right. And sometimes avoiding talk is the right thing to do. We don’t live in isolation. You’ve got to show some sense.”
It was quite a scolding, and it left Chip looking properly crestfallen. I felt sorry for him, despite my earlier words. After all, Sissy was a darling girl. Obviously guys were going to be interested in her, even if she did choose not to date at the present time. Chip seemed like a healthy, normal male; it was natural that he wanted to pay attention to her.
“I guess I feel guilty,”
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