If I say I was slow getting out of bed the next morning, I wouldn’t be exaggerating. Glancing at the bedside clock as I struggled upright, I was amazed at the lateness of the hour. Lloyd would already be in his first period class—thank goodness for Lillian and Sam who’d gotten him off while letting me sleep in. Of course I’d have to come up with some explanation for lingering in bed, so having had a restless night would have to do. It was all I could think of, plus it had a certain ring of truth about it.
But I tell you, it was a wonder that I was able to crawl out and straighten up, what with all the creaking joints and aching muscles. I’d used parts of my anatomy the night before that hadn’t been called on in more years than I cared to think about. And they were letting me know that I wasn’t as young as I once was.
And, Lord, when I glanced in the bathroom mirror, I thought I’d faint. I looked like the wreck of the Hesperus after sleeping on wet hair. I’d tried to towel it dry when I changed clothes in the pantry the night before, but let me tell you, it was a frightful sight first thing in the morning.
I called Velma before leaving the bedroom and begged her to take me. “I’m in dire need,” I told her. “I’ve got to have some help.”
“I can fit you in if you get here in fifteen minutes,” she said. “I’m booked solid the rest of the day and tomorrow, too, right up to the time of the soiree. Then I’m closing up and going myself.”
“I’m on my way.” I hung up, grabbed a scarf to cover my head and dashed through the dining room and kitchen and out the back door, telling Sam and Lillian that hair had top priority and I’d be back soon. With Lillian calling after me that I needed breakfast, I got in the car and sped toward Velma’s Kut and Kurl. As I crossed Main Street, I heard and felt the thud and crash of the day’s first onslaught of the wrecking ball against the courthouse several blocks away. I gripped the steering wheel and gritted my teeth, feeling the loss of something that couldn’t be replaced. What made it even worse was knowing that Arthur Kessler would be watching with that satisfied smirk on his face.
Finally under the dryer, I had time to think over the night’s escapade and try to plan the day’s activities. And also to take a little nap, my head hanging askew as hot air dried my rolled hair.
One thing I can say for Velma, she’s fast even though she talks a blue streak. While she combed and backcombed my hair, I heard all about last night’s shooting on Main Street.
“Those boys,” she said, referring to the sheriff’s deputies, “looked all over creation and they never did find out who was doin’ it. I mean, they spread out all over the place, rattling doors and lookin’ in alleys and I don’t know what all. It’s the strangest thing, is all I can say. Who you reckon would do such a thing?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” I said. “Spray it real good, Velma, if you will. It has to last through the soiree tomorrow and church on Sunday.”
When I got back home, feeling and looking 100 percent better, Sam was sitting in the living room reading the paper. He looked up as soon as I walked in, Lillian right behind me with coffee and toast and predictions of wasting away to nothing if I didn’t eat something.
“Well, Julia,” Sam said, putting aside the paper and smiling at me, “you flew out of here with hardly a word this morning. Is everything all right?”
“It is now,” I said, sitting beside him and patting my hair. “I just slept wrong and had to get to Velma’s before she filled up. You know how important hair is. A messy head can just ruin your whole outlook.”
“I’ve noticed that myself,” he said, his eyes twinkling, as he stood up. “Well, I just wanted to be sure you were okay. Oh, and by the way, a bunch of us’re going to help Robert barbecue the pigs tonight, so I expect it’ll be an all-night affair.”
“You’ll enjoy that. Who all’s going to be there?”
“Whoever drops by, I guess. We’ll help feed the fires, tell a few tall tales and think we’re having a good time.”
“Um-hmm,” I said, drinking coffee and wondering what they’d be drinking throughout the night.
Sam leaned down and gave me a kiss. “If you don’t have anything for me to do, I think I’ll wander down to the courthouse and watch it come down. I expect the protesters will be out in force as well.”
“I should hope so. In fact, I hope they’ll run Arthur Kessler out of town, but I guess that’s too much to expect. And it’s too late now anyway. Too late yesterday even, what with him putting that hole in the back wall.”
He turned back, giving me a raised eyebrow. “I told you about that, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” I said, my heart jumping for fear that I’d mentioned something I shouldn’t have known. “Remember, you said it was the last thing he did yesterday before quitting time.”
“Oh, right.” He headed for the hall closet, opened the door, then called to me. “Julia, where’s my old bumbershoot? They’re predicting more thunderstorms this afternoon.”
My eyes popped open as I pictured the umbrella lying on the floor of the cupola where I’d left it. Putting my cup carefully on its saucer, I said, “It should be in the closet. That’s where it always is.”
I heard him rummaging around in the closet, mumbling to himself. “Well, it’s not here,” he said, then stuck his head into the living room. “I guess my hair will just get ruined.”
“Oh, you,” I laughed, thanking the Lord again for such a sweet-natured, unsuspecting and trusting man. Wesley Lloyd Springer would’ve been fuming and stomping around half the day. Then he would’ve told me for the thousandth time that everything had its place and everything ought to stay in its place. As if it were my fault that he couldn’t find what he wanted.
But not Sam. Sam simply chose one of the other umbrellas in the closet and went on his way. Of course, this time it was my fault that his bumbershoot was not in its place, but that’s not the point.
As soon as the house fell silent, except for Lillian singing “Beulah Land” in the kitchen, I called Etta Mae.
“Etta Mae? How’re you feeling this morning?”
She yawned. “Is it morning already?”
“Yes, and we have to figure out how to get that statue from Poochie and what to do with it when we get it. You have any ideas?”
“Well,” she said, as I heard the rustle of bed covers, “my car’s out. If it wouldn’t fit last night, it won’t fit today. You think we could lay it down in the back seat of your car?”
“I think we can. It’s only about five feet tall, so it ought to fit. But what’s worrying me is what we’ll do with it then.”
“Um, well, I kinda thought you already had that figured out.”
“Not exactly. I was too intent on just getting it and thought I’d worry about what to do with it when we got it. The thing is, Etta Mae,” I said, unburdening myself on her, “I can’t bring it here. Sam would have a fit if he knew what we did last night. And so would Lillian. They’re so protective, you know. So I’d as soon you don’t mention what we did.”
“Um, well, are you just going to hide her? I mean, like forever?”
“Oh, no. I want everybody to know that Lady Justice has been saved from destruction, and I want her put somewhere permanent so everybody can see her. Maybe the garden club could sponsor her, donate her to the town or something like that. I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“You mean like a garden ornament or something?”
“Well, that’s a possibility, I guess. I’ll have to give it some thought.”
Etta Mae gave it a little thought of her own for a second or two, then she said, “I’m not sure you have a lot of time to think. Poochie’s not the most reliable soul, you know, so I wouldn’t leave it with him too long. He could sell it for scrap metal if it’d bring anything.”
“Oh, my word, don’t say that. Etta Mae, we have to do something to relieve him of that temptation, and that means getting it out of his hands as soon as we can. The thing is, though, we can’t let anybody know that I had anything to do with getting her. They’d tell Sam, sure as the world, and I’d have a hard time explaining to him.”
“If that’s the case, then,” she said, “I think we can trust Poochie to keep her overnight. Then he can bring her to the soiree tomorrow. You know, like he was the one who got her down. By himself, I mean.”
“Oh, good,” I said, “I’ll gladly let him take all the credit for saving her. But just to be on the safe side, Etta Mae, you talk to him and tell him that getting a new used pickup is dependent on having that statue—in one piece, mind you—at Mildred’s tomorrow afternoon. Tell him I’ve already started calling the used car lots to be sure he’ll have a good selection. Tell him he’ll be driving that new vehicle first thing Monday morning.”
“I think you promised him today.”
“I know I did, but if he got it today we might never see him or Lady Justice again. You know how he is. Remind him that I’m an old woman who’s stove up today from all the exertions he put us through last night.”
“That’ll do it,” she said, “especially when he sees what shape I’m in. My back’s killing me.”
Ah, I thought with some satisfaction as I hung up the phone, it’s not just age that gets you.