Read Online To Come and Go Like Magic by Katie Pickard Fawcett - Free Book Online
Authors: Katie Pickard Fawcett
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forty dollars at Donna’s Dress Shop, where my momma works.
Momma thinks all this is funny, but she doesn’t know how it is. All those popular girls will hate Priscilla for this. She’ll have to do something to get back on their good sides. You just don’t reduce Melody Reece to a regular person and get by with it.
I’m standing with Momma and Uncle Lu in front of the bandstand with the loudspeakers blaring in our ears and the Tiger Scouts running through the crowd like a bunch of hoodlums. I think about Jack and Lenny and Pop sitting in front of the hardware store in lawn chairs waiting for the parade. We could be there, too, if it weren’t for Uncle Lucius wanting to hear the Shrinersplay their songs in the bandstand. So here we are, listening to a bunch of old men make the saxophones screech and the trumpets blast off-key, but Uncle Lu smiles and claps to the music, never hears a wrong note.
When the sirens start, the band stops playing. The police cars and fire trucks inch past us. Everybody waves. The firemen throw hard candy to the crowd. Peppermints left over from the Christmas parade. And the Mercy Hill Band marches by playing “The Stars and Stripes Forever!” Uncle Lu stands up straight with his hand over his heart.
The royalty float is all white. Carnations and crepe paper. You can’t tell the real flowers from the fakes unless you’re close to the float. The girls are sitting on white thrones waving to the crowd. Melody’s smile looks like it’s been painted on her face, like her mouth’s smiling but her eyes are thinking about something else.
No one’s noticing, anyway. The crowd’s eyes are on the Tiny Miss, who can’t sit still. With her bubbly yellow dress spread around her and the crown of fake flowers on her head she looks like a blossom that’s slipped out of its pot. She wiggles and twists and clings to the side of her throne, getting as far away from the Tiny Mister as she can get. Everybody laughs. The Mister smiles and waves the way he’s supposed to, but the Tiny Miss looks like she’s about to cry.
On the heels of the royalty float the Shriners buzz by,big men scrunched up in minicars wearing boxy hats with tassels.
A fancy black convertible car comes by with the mayor in the front seat and two strange men wearing suits in the back. A wide white banner taped to the side of the car says GIBSON-CARTER COAL COMPANY—MERCY HILL’S ROAD TO THE FUTURE. All the men are waving little American flags and smiling at the crowd.
“The road to destruction!” Uncle Lu calls out, but there’s too much clapping for the men to hear.
Momma shakes her head at Uncle Lu.
“You’re one hundred percent right about that, Lucius,” Benny Moss says, edging his way through the crowd to stand beside Uncle Lu. “That bunch would be worse than the Matlocks.”
Will Epperson taps his cane on the sidewalk to get people to move over and slips in beside the other two men. “We don’t need strip miners in Mercy Hill,” he says, holding up his cane and shaking it at the fancy convertible.
“What are they talking—”
“Watch the parade,” Momma says.
The men in the black car keep smiling, waving their flags, and looking straight ahead.
And then comes the Reverend I. E. Fisher Jr., riding with the South Creek Baptist elders on a float with four pews and a huge wooden cross. The reverendposes with his Bible open like he’s ready to start a sermon any minute. One black pants leg has been cut up the side to accommodate the cast he’s been wearing since he fell during the monkey sermon.
The “church on wheels” barely gets by before the Jellico Springs band comes dancing down the street, doing a routine to “Locomotion.” The trumpet players are screeching on the high notes and the whole front row is out of step.
“That’s a snappy tune,” Uncle Lu says. He doesn’t know the words, doesn’t know it’s rock and roll. Nobody does. The preacher and the elders look back at the band
Momma thinks all this is funny, but she doesn’t know how it is. All those popular girls will hate Priscilla for this. She’ll have to do something to get back on their good sides. You just don’t reduce Melody Reece to a regular person and get by with it.
I’m standing with Momma and Uncle Lu in front of the bandstand with the loudspeakers blaring in our ears and the Tiger Scouts running through the crowd like a bunch of hoodlums. I think about Jack and Lenny and Pop sitting in front of the hardware store in lawn chairs waiting for the parade. We could be there, too, if it weren’t for Uncle Lucius wanting to hear the Shrinersplay their songs in the bandstand. So here we are, listening to a bunch of old men make the saxophones screech and the trumpets blast off-key, but Uncle Lu smiles and claps to the music, never hears a wrong note.
When the sirens start, the band stops playing. The police cars and fire trucks inch past us. Everybody waves. The firemen throw hard candy to the crowd. Peppermints left over from the Christmas parade. And the Mercy Hill Band marches by playing “The Stars and Stripes Forever!” Uncle Lu stands up straight with his hand over his heart.
The royalty float is all white. Carnations and crepe paper. You can’t tell the real flowers from the fakes unless you’re close to the float. The girls are sitting on white thrones waving to the crowd. Melody’s smile looks like it’s been painted on her face, like her mouth’s smiling but her eyes are thinking about something else.
No one’s noticing, anyway. The crowd’s eyes are on the Tiny Miss, who can’t sit still. With her bubbly yellow dress spread around her and the crown of fake flowers on her head she looks like a blossom that’s slipped out of its pot. She wiggles and twists and clings to the side of her throne, getting as far away from the Tiny Mister as she can get. Everybody laughs. The Mister smiles and waves the way he’s supposed to, but the Tiny Miss looks like she’s about to cry.
On the heels of the royalty float the Shriners buzz by,big men scrunched up in minicars wearing boxy hats with tassels.
A fancy black convertible car comes by with the mayor in the front seat and two strange men wearing suits in the back. A wide white banner taped to the side of the car says GIBSON-CARTER COAL COMPANY—MERCY HILL’S ROAD TO THE FUTURE. All the men are waving little American flags and smiling at the crowd.
“The road to destruction!” Uncle Lu calls out, but there’s too much clapping for the men to hear.
Momma shakes her head at Uncle Lu.
“You’re one hundred percent right about that, Lucius,” Benny Moss says, edging his way through the crowd to stand beside Uncle Lu. “That bunch would be worse than the Matlocks.”
Will Epperson taps his cane on the sidewalk to get people to move over and slips in beside the other two men. “We don’t need strip miners in Mercy Hill,” he says, holding up his cane and shaking it at the fancy convertible.
“What are they talking—”
“Watch the parade,” Momma says.
The men in the black car keep smiling, waving their flags, and looking straight ahead.
And then comes the Reverend I. E. Fisher Jr., riding with the South Creek Baptist elders on a float with four pews and a huge wooden cross. The reverendposes with his Bible open like he’s ready to start a sermon any minute. One black pants leg has been cut up the side to accommodate the cast he’s been wearing since he fell during the monkey sermon.
The “church on wheels” barely gets by before the Jellico Springs band comes dancing down the street, doing a routine to “Locomotion.” The trumpet players are screeching on the high notes and the whole front row is out of step.
“That’s a snappy tune,” Uncle Lu says. He doesn’t know the words, doesn’t know it’s rock and roll. Nobody does. The preacher and the elders look back at the band
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