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Granny Boudreaux’s car would need an alignment, tune-up and wash after the abuse heaped upon it today, Marge thought as she swerved to avoid some ruts and gave up on others, taking them head on. No one said a word until she left the bumpy dirt road and turned onto the smooth highway back to Sinful proper.
“Our Army career is finished before it even started,” said Gertie. “No adventure. No GI Bill to finish college. No teaching degree. No cute Army men. I’d better pick which Sinful man momma wants me to marry now and just get it over with.”
“We don’t know that that Cole guy’s going to put in a bad word for us,” Ida Belle said. “Besides, the two of them are more than just friends. I could tell by the way they looked at each other. She won’t let him keep us out.”
“They have a history, that’s for sure,” Marge said. “But I saw the way he looked at us. A man doesn’t like to be shown up by girls, especially an Army man, no matter how good Aunt Louanne looks in her shorts. I think they’ll still take us, but we can forget about Mr. Parker recommending us for any exciting jobs.”
* * * * *
According to the sign posted at the Sinful Bus Stop, the 9:45 Trailways bus to New Orleans would be right on time. From there they’d take a bus that would take them to Fort McClellan, Alabama. Sinful had a long tradition of sending off their citizens to the military with a community pancake breakfast, and the women of the Sinful Baptist and Sinful Catholic pulled out all the stops, serving up pancakes, grillades and grits, sweet potato biscuits, coush-coush and Big Eddie’s homemade boudin sausage.
And then there were the protesters. When it came to sending women off to the military, some people didn’t like it much. Across the street from the bus station stood a small crowd of residents holding signs in protest. People like their old home ec teacher, Mrs. Blanchard, who felt a woman’s place was in the home.
Even though Marge’s Aunt Louanne had assured the three that Mr. Parker, whom they had kidnapped and stuffed in a hot trunk, “agreed to let bygones be bygones,” Gertie kept expecting the other shoe to drop. So far, so good. Still, it saddened her that Mr. Parker wouldn’t be recommending them for more exciting jobs than typing and filing. But even if she was assigned to peel potatoes all day, she just wanted in so she could prove herself. She knew the ladders of opportunity for men and women in the military were of different heights. Women’s ladders were stepstools while men’s were extension ladders. Same as anywhere else. She’d already made her peace with that. Well, okay, maybe she hadn’t, but whatever that top step for women was, she wanted the chance to reach it. Marge and Ida Belle wanted that as well. Hopefully, they’d all be able to do that and stay together at the same time. What good was a Swamp Team 3 if they were apart?
Standing in front of the bus station with family and friends, Gertie reflected on all that had happened the past week. Barbara, her cousin, had moved on from Harvey and was now dating a mechanic from Mudbug. Harvey, meanwhile, ended up with a black eye from Celia’s daddy and a butt full of buckshot from Barbara’s. Barbara had made sure the incriminating photos were tacked up in all the prime spots, including the windshield of Celia’s daddy’s car. Luckily, the only witnesses to the black eye and butt full of buckshot were people who felt Harvey deserved what he got and suddenly couldn’t remember a thing, so neither daddy ended up in jail. Celia was now without a boyfriend, her prince charming dropping her like a hot potato. All-in-all a good week, thought Gertie.
A tear rolled down her face. As excited as she was to be heading to the Army, she was going to miss all the shenanigans of the Swamp Team 3. Never again would they go “undercover” and wreak havoc in Sinful. When they would return years from now they’d be fully matured adult women, and fully matured adult women did not do the kinds of things they did last week. Well, except for Miss Louanne, but she was a special case, Gertie supposed. At this very moment she was off galivanting somewhere taking photos, leaving her shop in the care of Marge’s mother. Before she’d left, though, Louanne had prepared a special bon voyage meal for the Swamp Team 3 of shrimp etouffee. They’d bombarded her with numerous questions about Cole Parker and their past working relationship. As always, she’d been tight lipped about it all.
Gertie’s mother, who stood next to her, burst into tears and brought Gertie out of her reverie.
“Don’t you cry,” she said to Gertie, having noticed the tear. “Now you’re making me cry!”
Marge’s mother, who had an arm around her daughter, looked at Marge, who was preoccupied with watching Marie as she turned the corner down the block, making her way toward them.
“Why aren’t you crying?” Marge’s mother asked. “Aren’t you going to miss me?” Then she burst into tears.
The dads glanced at one another and rolled their eyes.
“Yes, momma, I will miss you,” Marge said, sounding as though she’d said it a million times to her mother today.
“I packed a dress I made for you this summer,” Marge’s mother said, sniffing. “A pretty little one-shoulder. Drives men wild.”
“If you say so,” Marge said, keeping her eye on Marie as she got closer.
“That reminds me,” Gertie’s mom said, pulling out a large Tupperware container from her ginormous purse. Gertie shook her head. Her mother’s purses were getting bigger every year. Gertie vowed right then to check herself in to the nearest insane asylum if she ever looked down one day and saw a piece of luggage standing in for a purse. “I made a wiener casserole in your honor, from that recipe book you made your senior year in home ec class.” She looked over at Marge’s mom. “She called it the ‘wienerole.’” She patted Gertie on her head. “My little genius.” A tear fell down her face.
Marge’s mom sighed. “I’m just hoping the Army can teach my Marge how to cook. Lord knows I never could.”
Gertie glanced over at Ida Belle, who was rolling her eyes at the sentimentality. But Gertie knew in a small way she was jealous. Her mom wasn’t here to make a fuss over her. Her daddy, well, he’d driven her to the bus station and that was about it. Gertie’s and Marge’s moms must have felt it as well, because they both abandoned their own daughters and went to Ida Belle and smothered her with hugs.
Marge took the opportunity to escape her mother and scooted alongside Gertie. “My aunt called last night to wish us luck.”
“Where from?”
“She didn’t say.”
She never did.
“She hasn’t heard from that Parker fellow, has she?”
Marge shook her head. “No. As far as I know he never said anything about us to the higher ups.” Marge glanced back and saw Marie approaching them.
“I was afraid I was going to be late.” Marie held a brightly wrapped package and handed it to Marge. “Here’s a little going-away gift.”
Marge’s face creased with worry. “You shouldn’t be spending your money buying me a gift.”
Marie waved her off. “I was called over to the funeral home in Mudbug. The family of the deceased liked what I did so much they tipped me. Besides, it’s not much, just some stationery and a pen. But maybe it’ll help you remember to write.”
“I don’t think I need much of a reminder,” Marge said.
Someone shouted, “The bus is coming!” and a cheer broke out in the crowd, drowning out the mothers’ wailing. Ida Belle managed to escape their embrace and joined her friends. Gertie noticed her looking around the crowd.
“Walter’s over there, staring at us,” Gertie said.
“I wasn’t looking for him.”
“Yes, you were. He looks like he wants to come over here and kiss you.”
“I bet he kisses better than the last Sinful man you kissed,” Marge said, snickering.
“If I were you,” Gertie said, “I’d go kiss Walter. You really don’t want the last man in Sinful you kissed to be Harvey. My last man was Beany Germain, so I’m on the hunt for a more suitable last kiss.” She smiled. “And I think I see him now.” Brawley Tagart. Definitely not a pocket-protector guy. He was a mechanic who worked in Marge’s dad’s gas station. Way out of Gertie’s league. But all the men who shipped out kissed whatever girls they pleased, why couldn’t she? “I’ll be right back.”
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Gertie’s words cut through Ida Belle. She hadn’t really thought much about it, but Harvey Chicoron was the last Sinful man she kissed. Something about that was leaving a sour feeling in her gut. She pulled her gaze to Walter, who slouched against a lamp pole with a puppy dog expression on his face.
She turned back to Marge. “Well, I may have to do something about that too.” She stormed over to Walter before she could talk herself out of it. He straightened up as she approached.
“Don’t ask me why, but Harvey Chicoron was the last man in Sinful I kissed,” she said to him.
“That was you in the picture, wasn’t it?” Walter asked. “I could tell you were up to something that day. Look, Ida Belle, I’m going to be leaving for the Marines next week, and, well, I know I’ve never told you this, but...” he stopped, trying to gather his words.
“The bus is here,” Ida Belle said. She didn’t have much time left. “Even if it was for a good cause, I don’t want Harvey to be the last man I kissed from Sinful. I’d rather it be someone... special. Someone like you.”
His face brightened. “Really?”
“So if you don’t mind—”
He didn’t allow her to finish. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him.
She had no idea how long their lips were joined together. But when they parted, it felt far too short. She heard Gertie calling to her to get on the bus.
“That was nice,” he said, smiling.
Now Marge was yelling for her. She leaned in, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Goodbye, Walter. We’ll see each other when we return to Sinful,” she said, before quickly walking away.
“Write me!” he yelled.
She turned back to take one last peek at him.
And ran into a street sign.
Dang! He did it to her again.
Gertie rushed up and grabbed her hand. “Come on!”
“My luggage,” Ida Belle said.
“It’s okay. My dad is getting our luggage loaded. We need to get on the bus.”
They rushed up the stairs of the bus and sat in two seats behind Marge. Gertie turned to Ida Belle, grinning. “I gave Brawley a big smacker. You’re not going to believe this, but Beany’s was better. How was yours?”
“Nice,” Ida Belle said. “It was nice.”
“Nice?” Marge said, turning around in her seat to face them. “That’s it?”
“Okay,” Ida Belle said, “it was very nice.” The best kiss she’d ever had. She glanced out the window and noticed Walter staring up at her. “It was a nice goodbye kiss. Between friends.”
“Something tells me he’d like to be more than just friends with you,” Gertie said.
“Could we talk about something else?” Ida Belle looked out in the crowd and noticed Harvey, sporting a shiner and carrying two cups of orange juice. He glared at their bus. “Harvey never looked better.”
Marge pressed her face against the window. “I think he’d look better with two black eyes.”
“There’s Marie waving,” Gertie said.
Marge opened the bus window, stuck her body out, and waved to her. Then she pulled back inside. “I hope she’ll be okay.”
“You worry too much about Marie,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle watched as Harvey made his way through the crowd toward Marie. Marge noticed too. She leaned in toward the window. “What’s he doing?”
Harvey stood several feet from Marie, then scooted closer. He smiled to her. She ignored him. He said something to her and she turned to him. He held up one of the cups of orange juice.
She accepted, finally smiling at him.
“Oh no,” Marge said, getting up from her seat.
“Where are you going?” Gertie asked.
“I’m going to go warn her about him.”
“She already knows about him,” Ida Belle said. “Besides, it’s just a cup of orange juice. You know Marie, she’s super polite. It would be impolite not to accept.”
“Then I’ll remind him to stay away from her.” Marge charged down the aisle toward the door, but it was now closing.
“Take your seat, Miss,” the driver said.
“I have to go out one minute.”
“You get off, you stay off,” the driver said.
Ida Belle called out to her, “Marge, get back here.”
“She is way too overprotective of Marie,” Gertie whispered.
Marge rushed back to her seat and leaned into the window, watching as Marie said something back to Harvey.
“She knows all about Harvey,” Gertie said. “There’s no way she’d get involved with him.”
“You don’t think?” Marge asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “She’s too smart for that.”
Marge sighed but kept her eye on them until the bus made it to the end of Main Street and turned onto the highway.
Marge finally settled down and soon the three were quiet, probably lost in their own worlds, just as Ida Belle was. Thoughts of Walter mingled in with thoughts of how her life was going to soon change. They passed a sign she’d passed a million times before when heading to Mudbug or New Orleans. Today it took on new meaning.
Leaving Sinful