Read Online Miss Dimple Disappears by Mignon F. Ballard - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mignon F. Ballard
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morning so early the sun was barely up. Why, Ida wasn’t even dressed, and here was poor old Ralph still in his long johns …” Lou paused to get her breath. “Anyway, she was hollering to wake the dead out there on the porch. Ida thought the poor soul must be dying.”
“So what was the matter? What happened?”
“A dog, she said . Ida snatched her inside, gave her a cup of coffee to kind of settle her down some, and Miss Dimple told her a big old dog had frightened her … chased her all the way up on the porch, she said.” Her aunt paused to thumb through her ration book. “Of course you have to wonder about somebody crazy enough to walk all over town before even the chickens are up. You’d think she’d be old enough to know better.”
Charlie frowned. “But, Aunt Lou, I don’t see how a dog could’ve had anything to do with Miss Dimple’s leaving.”
“That’s just it, you see. Ida said nobody on her street even has a dog like that, but just the same, it could’ve been a stray, so Ralph got out in his truck and looked for it after he dropped Miss Dimple off at school. They have small grandchildren, you know, and you can’t have a dangerous animal like that running loose.”
“Did she say when this happened?” Charlie asked.
“I believe it was a day or so before she pulled that disappearing act. Of course Ida didn’t know anything about Miss Dimple’s vanishing the way she did until we told her about it last night.” Aunt Lou pulled a grocery list from her purse and smoothed it out on the counter. “Jesse Dean,” she hollered, “give me about a half a pound of streak-o-lean, too, if you have it. I’m going to cook me up a good mess of greens tomorrow.”
“I hope she told Bobby Tinsley about this,” Charlie said, making a face. She hated turnip greens.
“Said she was going to. Ralph never did find that dog, either. Now you know that doesn’t mean I don’t believe there was one.”
“Uh-huh.” Charlie knew that was exactly what her aunt did believe. She gathered her groceries along with Miss Phoebe’s order and gave her aunt a kiss on the cheek. “Gotta run!” It was already getting dark and she still hadn’t done a thing about her hair.
“Tell your mama if she’ll bring me the sugar, I’ll bake some of my teacakes for her circle meeting next week,” her aunt called after her. Charlie hoped she would bake enough to have some left over. That was another thing the sisters didn’t have in common. Aunt Louise was a fantastic cook.
* * *
“Stand still and let me see if this hem is even,” Miss Bessie said. Charlie stood in front of the fireplace in her underwear while her neighbor slipped the skirt over her head. Charlie’s daddy had claimed Bessie Jenkins was so buck-toothed she could eat an apple through a picket fence, and she had a slight lisp to her speech, but that didn’t seem to bother Bessie’s longtime boyfriend, Ollie Thigpen. Ollie helped out on Paschall Kiker’s farm just outside of town and looked after the old man now that he wasn’t able to get around much anymore. He didn’t own a car and rode a bicycle just about everywhere he went, so most of their neighbor’s “outings” took place at her house unless the couple walked to church or to the movies, although once in a while Ollie treated her to supper downtown at Ray’s Cafe.
Turning slowly as she was directed, Charlie couldn’t help but notice the woman’s thinning reddish hair as she knelt below her. Now, humming a slightly off-key version of “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree,” she painstakingly measured the length of the skirt.
“You were gone so long I just had to guess at this.” Miss Bessie sputtered pins as she spoke. “So don’t blame me if the hem dips.”
Charlie didn’t care if it dipped or not. She had hurried home from town to take a quick “splash” bath and to roll her hair under in those hateful metal curlers that pinched and pulled, and she was not in
“So what was the matter? What happened?”
“A dog, she said . Ida snatched her inside, gave her a cup of coffee to kind of settle her down some, and Miss Dimple told her a big old dog had frightened her … chased her all the way up on the porch, she said.” Her aunt paused to thumb through her ration book. “Of course you have to wonder about somebody crazy enough to walk all over town before even the chickens are up. You’d think she’d be old enough to know better.”
Charlie frowned. “But, Aunt Lou, I don’t see how a dog could’ve had anything to do with Miss Dimple’s leaving.”
“That’s just it, you see. Ida said nobody on her street even has a dog like that, but just the same, it could’ve been a stray, so Ralph got out in his truck and looked for it after he dropped Miss Dimple off at school. They have small grandchildren, you know, and you can’t have a dangerous animal like that running loose.”
“Did she say when this happened?” Charlie asked.
“I believe it was a day or so before she pulled that disappearing act. Of course Ida didn’t know anything about Miss Dimple’s vanishing the way she did until we told her about it last night.” Aunt Lou pulled a grocery list from her purse and smoothed it out on the counter. “Jesse Dean,” she hollered, “give me about a half a pound of streak-o-lean, too, if you have it. I’m going to cook me up a good mess of greens tomorrow.”
“I hope she told Bobby Tinsley about this,” Charlie said, making a face. She hated turnip greens.
“Said she was going to. Ralph never did find that dog, either. Now you know that doesn’t mean I don’t believe there was one.”
“Uh-huh.” Charlie knew that was exactly what her aunt did believe. She gathered her groceries along with Miss Phoebe’s order and gave her aunt a kiss on the cheek. “Gotta run!” It was already getting dark and she still hadn’t done a thing about her hair.
“Tell your mama if she’ll bring me the sugar, I’ll bake some of my teacakes for her circle meeting next week,” her aunt called after her. Charlie hoped she would bake enough to have some left over. That was another thing the sisters didn’t have in common. Aunt Louise was a fantastic cook.
* * *
“Stand still and let me see if this hem is even,” Miss Bessie said. Charlie stood in front of the fireplace in her underwear while her neighbor slipped the skirt over her head. Charlie’s daddy had claimed Bessie Jenkins was so buck-toothed she could eat an apple through a picket fence, and she had a slight lisp to her speech, but that didn’t seem to bother Bessie’s longtime boyfriend, Ollie Thigpen. Ollie helped out on Paschall Kiker’s farm just outside of town and looked after the old man now that he wasn’t able to get around much anymore. He didn’t own a car and rode a bicycle just about everywhere he went, so most of their neighbor’s “outings” took place at her house unless the couple walked to church or to the movies, although once in a while Ollie treated her to supper downtown at Ray’s Cafe.
Turning slowly as she was directed, Charlie couldn’t help but notice the woman’s thinning reddish hair as she knelt below her. Now, humming a slightly off-key version of “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree,” she painstakingly measured the length of the skirt.
“You were gone so long I just had to guess at this.” Miss Bessie sputtered pins as she spoke. “So don’t blame me if the hem dips.”
Charlie didn’t care if it dipped or not. She had hurried home from town to take a quick “splash” bath and to roll her hair under in those hateful metal curlers that pinched and pulled, and she was not in
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