Amid thoughts of high heels, bad talent, and evening-gown malfunctions, Mrs. Harvard’s words raced through my mind again and again: “Longevity is the key, and the question is what could be gained.” As far as I could tell, only two people had been involved in this pageant promenade longer than dirt: Mr. Cummings III and the director himself. As most things dysfunctional start at the top, that seemed the place to begin.
I headed back to the library to see what Mr. Cummings III was up to now. I wasn’t even sure if he was alive to be up to something at all, since his son had taken over judging for him, but I’d start at the top and work my way through those Cummingses until I reached Adam if need be. The Jackson, Mississippi, phone book held a Mr. Randolph Cummings III and IV.
I was probably stupid to just pick up the phone and call cold. What was I going to say,“Hey,Mr. Cummings, are you a creep? Do you take pleasure in rigging a beauty pageant? Do you not have a life?” As soon as I asked myself that, it was clear the real question was missing:Why? Why would Mr. Cummings be willing to fix a beauty pageant? What would he gain? Why was he the one chosen to change his scores, if indeed he had? Either he was a man with no backbone or he was a man who had something to lose.
I didn’t stand much to gain by a phone call. What was he going to do, give me a confessional right over the telephone line? This would take a trip to Jackson, Mississippi. Work started Monday, so unless I was planning to do a story on why people had fish heads on the downspouts of their gutters, I needed to head to Jackson.
I wrote down both the business and home addresses and phone numbers of all of the Cummingses, then made my way to Jake’s for a talk. Nearly there, I heard the clicking of high heels and the whooshing of cascading following close behind. My greatest horror and newest fear called out, waving her arms in front of her face and all but skipping down the sidewalk.“Savannah, hey it’s me,Amber. Remember, we just had lunch together?”
“Yeah, I remember!”
“I have that program book you wanted. In fact I brought you all of mine. I was going to run them by your house, but figured you probably hadn’t even had time to get home yet. Do you want to sit down and look at them together?” she asked, hopeful. Looking at the stack of rather large program books, I politely declined.
“So you’ve done this three times already?”
“Yes, I know they say third time’s a charm, but to be honest with you, the third time su— Oh, my word, I almost said something very unladylike. Slap me and call my mama. But I believe four is fabulous, fantastic, and philanthropic. I’m not exactly sure what philanthropic means, but it is just a great word to say.”
“No, it’s OK, I understand,” I said, looking at her with pity at the possibility that she actually thought philanthropic started with an f. I was still trying to gauge whether she was imbalanced or simply overprocessed. “And sorry, I would love to sit down and go through these with you, but I have to take a really quick trip. But I promise, I will get these back to you very soon. Maybe we can even have lunch again.” I could have slapped myself.
“Oh, that would be wonderful. Let’s do it soon. I have a thousand more pageant stories to tell you. I know, let’s meet Monday.”
“Actually, I start work on Monday and my friend Paige and I, well, we set aside that day every week to catch up. How about Tuesday?”
“Oh, that’ll be just fabulous. I’ll try to go back and see if I can find some more pictures to show you. I could even bring my crown. Oh, Savannah,we are going to have so much fun! You take care now. I’ll see you soon,” she said, beaming.“I just know we are going to be the best of friends.”
I smiled the best I could, thanked her for the books, and headed for my car.
“Oh, yoo-hoo! Savannah!” the voice came again from behind.
“Yes,” I said, slowly turning to take in her radiant glory once more.
“There is a pageant tomorrow night in Hinesville.”
“Where in the world is Hinesville?”
“Just a hop and a skip up the interstate. Seeing as you wanted to see my program books and all, I thought you might want to go with me. I love to scope out the competition.”
At that moment I was presented with one of the greatest dilemmas I had been forced to encounter in my young life: whether to actually go see a pageant of my own free choice or refuse to allow my reputation to fall under such ill repute.Well, it would only be for research, I thought. I haven’t been to a pageant since I was old enough to say no. I probably need to be abreast of what happens in pageants. Did I just say abreast? If I go to that pageant, let alone spend an entire evening with Amber, I might come out of there robed in velvet and clogging. I can’t do it. I just can’t put myself through such needless affliction.
“You know, that might not be such a bad idea,” I said. “I haven’t been to a pageant in years. But I’ll need to meet you there. I’ll have to leave as soon as it’s over because I have to get out of town early the next morning.”
“Oh, Savannah Phillips, you will have the most wonderful time of your life. There’s singing and dancing,” she said, twirling herself around the sidewalk.“It’s sheer magic. I’ll get you directions and save you a seat, and I’ll give you all the inside information on the contestants. You’ll wish you had entered.” And with that, she skipped, sauntered, and cascaded away.
I got in behind the wheel and hated myself. I was almost certain I hated my job at this point too, but the one thing Amber had accomplished was make me feel amazingly better about my mother. In light of this new acquaintance, I realized Vicky wasn’t quite so unnatural after all. Then I was consumed with intense desire to see what Amber looked like in these program books resting on my lap.
The first one I opened was 1998 . There she was,Amber Topaz Childers, Miss Rose Petal Queen United States of America. Both she and her mother must have had a thing for jewelry. This was the first time Amber had gone to Miss Georgia United States of America. She looked exactly the same. She was obviously dedicated to her look.
I perused the remainder of the contestants because they captivated me. My eyes couldn’t help themselves. They were drawn to the hair, the makeup, the smiles, the queens. A picture snapped me out of my hypnosis. The portrait of Emma Elizabeth Riley, Miss Savannah United States of America, rested beneath Amber’s.
This was the Emma Riley I had known. She was undeniably the most beautiful girl in the entire school, possibly all of Savannah. She was perfect without being plastic. She was every beauty pageant’s dream contestant, and she won every pageant around town. She even won Miss Massie School her freshman year. She was the first freshman to ever hold the title. My mother said she waited two years after high school to compete in Miss Savannah United States of America. She wanted to be prepared, older, and more mature. Town talk has it that the entire city was shocked when Emma didn’t return Miss Georgia United States of America. She never competed again and, according to Paige, thus began her spiral to spandex.
The beautiful face stared back, forcing the question of how she had lost. And having witnessed her ability with the flute, even I knew she was talented. The girl could kick behind on that little sideways piece of machinery. Flipping over to the judges’ page, there I saw the face of Mr. Randolph Cummings IV. The director, Mr. Todd, had turned the reins over to his heir apparent as well, Carline Todd. The Templetons were still around, tallying up all of these fine scores.
The 1999 program book showed Miss Amber decked out in sequins, mane pulled up and sitting aloft her head . This was the year following Emma’s defeat, and Amber was now Miss Macon United States of America. But this year,Mr. Cummings IV was gone and the Templetons had been replaced by another Atlanta firm. I scanned her next book, and neither Mr. Cummings IV nor the Templetons had returned. It was definitely time to head to Mississippi. Questions needed answers. And as soon as I was through being terrorized by tiaras, I would see what stories Mississippi had to tell.
For a woman with no job, a flight to Mississippi would be impossible. For a father with a credit card, all things were possible. So I headed in his direction. I would broach the subject on two levels, honesty and flattery. Oh, and the fact that he owed me for sending me off to lunch knowingly with those two. When these three merged to form a plan, the humidity of May turned into nothing more than a gentle breeze. I spent an undue amount of time outside Jake’s with Duke, talking through my rhetoric. He got bored, so I reluctantly entered, heading in the direction of the Coke.
I caught Dad’s eye and motioned him in the back room. “I need to speak with you for a moment.”
He finished wiping remnants of the afternoon tourist traffic off the counter and followed me into his office. “What’s wrong, Savannah? Surely lunch couldn’t have done enough damage to require a private conversation.”
“What you did was wrong.”
“Welcome home, Savannah.”
“Oh, so now you’re saying I really owe you.”
“Let’s just be thankful your reputation is still intact.”
“Well, the thing I need to talk about is . . . well . . . I don’t feel like I can tell you everything right now, mostly due to the fact that I don’t know everything right now. But I do know that I need to go to Jackson, Mississippi, this weekend to do some research, and unfortunately the Bank of Savannah is empty.”
“I wasn’t aware there was a Bank of Savannah.”
“Well, there is, in its dwindling state. So I need to make a withdrawal from the Bank of Jake.”
“Oh, yes! I know that one very well. Your account there is busted, however.”
“I promise you, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t essential. I also promise I will pay you back everything even if I have to stay at home a week longer than I want. But I really need to do this, and I really need you to trust me without asking a lot of questions.”
Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, from which he took his platinum American Express.“Savannah, if there is one thing I know about you, it’s that you wouldn’t be asking me for money and offering to stay at home another week longer if you didn’t feel it was absolutely necessary.”
“You’re a smart man.”
“Very smart, don’t forget it. I also know you have bigger reasons for everything you’re doing that I will learn about soon enough. Whatever it is, all I ask is that you do it well and that you be careful,” he said, handing me his card, kissing me on my cheek, and walking toward the door.
“Dad, thanks. I love you totally separate of the fact that I’m holding your credit card in my hand,” I said, laughing.
He turned back around, laughing himself. “I love you too. And trust me, it is totally separate of the fact that you are holding my credit card in your hand.”
With that he disappeared to continue his commission for the day. “Listen to the wise people around you, and live a life that is always learning.”
Richard said people had been asking Dad and him questions all day long. “There’s been more learning going on in here than I’ve seen happenin’ in a schoolhouse in fifty years!”