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Authors: Virginia Brown
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again.”
“Lord. It’s contagious. You’re rubbing off on me.”
“It could be worse. And before you say anything—I have good news.”
“Good for who? Me or you?” I poured sweet tea over my ice, drank half of it, then topped it off again. Sharita makes excellent sweet tea—sweet without being too syrupy, strong without being bitter, and plenty of it so Bitty doesn’t run out.
“For both of us. We’re going to be extras in the movie.”
“Extra what?”
“Extras. You know. People in the background. Pedestrians, diners, things like that. I ran into a movie person today. I think she’s the director’s assistant. Anyway, she said they’re going to need extras in a lot of the scenes. The one they’re shooting next is a period shot, so we get to wear clothes from the sixties. Isn’t that exciting?”
“All of my clothes from the sixties are in Mama’s ragbag. Why would you think I have clothes from the sixties?”
“For heaven’s sake, Trinket, we can fake it. We’ll just go to a thrift store and look for dresses that we can get altered. We have two days before we’re needed.”
“Bitty, I remember the sixties. Dress hems were between our knees and our ya-has. I have no intention of showing my thighs or my ya-ha, thank you very much.”
“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to do either one, isn’t it? We’re going as adults, not as Twiggy or Ann Margret. Our hemlines will be below the knees. Our hair will be teased. We’ll be elegant. Think Jackie Kennedy.”
“I don’t want to do it.”
“Don’t you want to be infamous?”
“You mean famous, and no, I don’t.”
Bitty smiled. “No, I meant infamous. Think about it. We’re going to be on the set of a movie that has the entire town in an uproar. What fun!”
“Something will go wrong. Something always goes wrong when you think it’s going to be fun. I know that. I know better than to let you talk me into anything, too. So no. I don’t want to do it.”
Why do I ever bother resisting? Bitty always gets her way. I don’t know how she does it, but she manages to overcome all objections and common sense to talk me into doing something I know isn’t a good idea. Sometimes I think it’s not Bitty who’s so dangerous; it’s me for going along with her.
Chapter 5
EARLY THE NEXT morning saw me, Rayna, and Gaynelle traveling down 78 Highway to Hickory Flat. It’s not much more than a collection of houses, a few stores, and a nice school that’s grown with the influx of kids from the surrounding areas. Railroad tracks run right in front of the school, and Johnny Payne lives on a street parallel to the school gymnasium. It’s a nice little house, snug and pretty with red brick and a yard with a white picket fence. Small town America. As we got out of the SUV, a train rattled down the tracks with a terrific noise.
“Are you sure he’ll be here?” I raised my voice to ask Rayna, and she nodded.
“He works second shift at the Walmart distribution center in New Albany. He’s a manager now.”
After his arrest and time in prison for kidnapping, Johnny Payne had spent years trying to get a decent job. Felons have very few choices. I was sure he regretted his impulsive decision to abduct Dixie Lee. Sometimes adolescents do foolish things.
A blue painted metal glider sat on the front porch, shifting slightly in the breeze as we waited for someone to answer our knock. Finally the door opened. A little girl looked up at us from under a mop of dark curls. She was about four or five and had on a Hello Kitty nightgown.
“Is your daddy home?” Rayna asked, and she shook her head.
“My daddy’s at work.”
“Is there another grown-up here?”
“My grandpa. He’s in the kitchen.”
Rayna smiled. “Would you ask him to come to the door?”
The little girl nodded and left the door open as she went to find her grandfather. Rayna whispered to us, “Grandpa is probably Johnny.”
Johnny Payne came to the door a few
“Lord. It’s contagious. You’re rubbing off on me.”
“It could be worse. And before you say anything—I have good news.”
“Good for who? Me or you?” I poured sweet tea over my ice, drank half of it, then topped it off again. Sharita makes excellent sweet tea—sweet without being too syrupy, strong without being bitter, and plenty of it so Bitty doesn’t run out.
“For both of us. We’re going to be extras in the movie.”
“Extra what?”
“Extras. You know. People in the background. Pedestrians, diners, things like that. I ran into a movie person today. I think she’s the director’s assistant. Anyway, she said they’re going to need extras in a lot of the scenes. The one they’re shooting next is a period shot, so we get to wear clothes from the sixties. Isn’t that exciting?”
“All of my clothes from the sixties are in Mama’s ragbag. Why would you think I have clothes from the sixties?”
“For heaven’s sake, Trinket, we can fake it. We’ll just go to a thrift store and look for dresses that we can get altered. We have two days before we’re needed.”
“Bitty, I remember the sixties. Dress hems were between our knees and our ya-has. I have no intention of showing my thighs or my ya-ha, thank you very much.”
“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to do either one, isn’t it? We’re going as adults, not as Twiggy or Ann Margret. Our hemlines will be below the knees. Our hair will be teased. We’ll be elegant. Think Jackie Kennedy.”
“I don’t want to do it.”
“Don’t you want to be infamous?”
“You mean famous, and no, I don’t.”
Bitty smiled. “No, I meant infamous. Think about it. We’re going to be on the set of a movie that has the entire town in an uproar. What fun!”
“Something will go wrong. Something always goes wrong when you think it’s going to be fun. I know that. I know better than to let you talk me into anything, too. So no. I don’t want to do it.”
Why do I ever bother resisting? Bitty always gets her way. I don’t know how she does it, but she manages to overcome all objections and common sense to talk me into doing something I know isn’t a good idea. Sometimes I think it’s not Bitty who’s so dangerous; it’s me for going along with her.
Chapter 5
EARLY THE NEXT morning saw me, Rayna, and Gaynelle traveling down 78 Highway to Hickory Flat. It’s not much more than a collection of houses, a few stores, and a nice school that’s grown with the influx of kids from the surrounding areas. Railroad tracks run right in front of the school, and Johnny Payne lives on a street parallel to the school gymnasium. It’s a nice little house, snug and pretty with red brick and a yard with a white picket fence. Small town America. As we got out of the SUV, a train rattled down the tracks with a terrific noise.
“Are you sure he’ll be here?” I raised my voice to ask Rayna, and she nodded.
“He works second shift at the Walmart distribution center in New Albany. He’s a manager now.”
After his arrest and time in prison for kidnapping, Johnny Payne had spent years trying to get a decent job. Felons have very few choices. I was sure he regretted his impulsive decision to abduct Dixie Lee. Sometimes adolescents do foolish things.
A blue painted metal glider sat on the front porch, shifting slightly in the breeze as we waited for someone to answer our knock. Finally the door opened. A little girl looked up at us from under a mop of dark curls. She was about four or five and had on a Hello Kitty nightgown.
“Is your daddy home?” Rayna asked, and she shook her head.
“My daddy’s at work.”
“Is there another grown-up here?”
“My grandpa. He’s in the kitchen.”
Rayna smiled. “Would you ask him to come to the door?”
The little girl nodded and left the door open as she went to find her grandfather. Rayna whispered to us, “Grandpa is probably Johnny.”
Johnny Payne came to the door a few
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