Mary at the Old Railroad Trestle

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

         We arrived, eventually, at the General & Dry Goods after what seemed like an interminable wait. I slithered down from the wagon seat and had turned toward the store porch, when Mister Minister Termather spoke up: “I’ll wait.” I simply nodded politely and went on.

         Inside, the huge space stood quiet for a change. I could hear someone in the back room, probably Mr. Nichols, shifting bolts of cloth and boxes of stored goods, and Miz Nichols flitted between the cash register and the display tables.
         ”Mary! How are you? How good to see you? And how is your lovely mother—and your Aunt too?” I knew Miz Nichols was hinting to discover how last night’s proceedings had-well, proceeded.

         “Mamma is fine, ma’am. Aunt Grace was fine too  the last time I saw her.” Simpering a little at her clearly striving expression, I put her out of her misery. “That was last evening, Miz Nichols, and she were doin’ just fine, thank you much.”
The storekeeper’s wife suddenly fluttered so much I could not decide which she needed more:  a fan to wave in front of her flushed face, or to simply turn on into a hummingbird and fly right away, probably over to Aunt Grace’s residence to spy on the goings-on in that back parlour.

         I simpered a little more and started in the direction of the Notions table, which stood at the far end of the front room of the store. I had walked maybe twenty paces when the door opened again, and I heard that unwelcome voice. “Good morning to you, Miz Nichols, ma’am.”

         ”Why, Mister Termather! How lovely to see you this morning! How are you, and how is your lovely hostess?” as if I had not already answered that question to her satisfaction.

         ”Miz Haskell is just as fine as she can be, right as rain, and I thank you for inquiring. Incidentally, I stopped in specifically to extend to you an invitation directly from that admirable lady. “She asks if you would do her the honor, with your loving spouse, of attending two of her programmes this week, on Friday evening, and then on the Saturday evening as well.”

         Liar! He had as good as implied to me he would remain outside, when he offered to wait. Now he is in here flattering Miz Nichols and talking sweetly about my Aunt Grace-who is formidable, yes; but neither sweet, lovely, nor admirable. Not at all.

         ”Oh, we would jest LOVE to, I know Mr. Nichols will be just as absolutely thrilled as I am!” Any more gushing and I would expect puppy dogs and kittens to rain down from the ceiling, interspersed with butterflies and flowers. Oh, and hummingbirds of course, I frowned to myself, picking out the notions and lace Mamma had required of me. By the time I reached Miz Nichols at the counter, she was behind the register, and a hand reached to take the items from me and store them in a sack. A low voice said, “I’ll take care of the cost, ma’am.” I considered turning  my glare on him, the one I use on the town boys in our infrequent encounters, but then remembered I was still only fourteen (I did not realize yet that fourteen was all I would ever be) and in the presence of my elders. I elected for some discretion and only nodded a thank-you.

         Mister Minister picked up the sack from the gushing storekeeper and added his final bit of twist to the point. “Attend at Miz Haskell’s by eight P.M. of the evening, both on Friday and again on Saturday, if you please, ma’am.”
         ”Why certainly, sir! May I-would it be imprudent to ask who else might be in attendance?”

         Those unnerving eyes rolled in my direction, but I am certain Miz Nichols missed that move, as her own smile was nearly wide enough to split her jaw and certainly compacted her eyelids. She looked at that moment like the face of the frog whose body Auntie Grace so closely resembled.

         ”Wal, I do believe that Miz Lansing and Miz Wills will be invited, my dear lady. Certainly this lovely child’s mother Lucinda will be in attendance. And I myself, of course, as facilitator to the Spirits of the Dear Departed Ones.”

         “Of course, of course! Well, certainly Mister Nichols and I will be in attendance on both those dates! We are honored.” I wondered how Mister Nichols had been honored, since he did not know of the invitation yet, but just then, the hateful ol’ Snake took a’hold of my left arm, still toting Mamma’s sack of notions and lace in his own left hand, and tipping his head to Miz Nichols, bid her a fond good-bye and led me to the fron{indnett door. There he was forced to drop my arm in order to open the door for the approaching Miz Lansing and Miz Wills, speak of the devil (except he was already present at my side). Of course, the new invitation had to be extended to the two shopping ladies as well, and by this point Miz Nichols had fluttered up behind us to take part in the conversation. I sensibly elected to step outside and wait on the porch, as I preferred not to enter Mister Minister’s wagon until he reappeared, which he did shortly, sly smile intact, and motioned me toward the wagon. I climbed in without his assistance, he handed me the bag of notions and we rode once again in silence, until nearing Aunt Grace’s, I suggested dismounting there.

         ”No, no, my dear, you know your dear Mamma is waiting impatiently for these provisions, for Miz Haskell’s fashion which must be ready for our little (pause) get-together on this evening.” I turned to look at him, a task I do not often set myself, and suddenly realized that the unfamiliarites I occasionally caught in his accent might indicate that the man himself hailed from across the ocean. Interesting-but it did not solve my problem with him. THAT would not be rectified, mitigated, or avoided until he disappeared from my life; and that MUST occur before he let the cat out of the bag, either by speaking of my talent, or by encouraging it.