Bury the Hatchet in Dead Mule Swamp (27 page)

“You’ve got to call Jerry
right away, and tell him about this,” Adele admonished. “He’ll want
to order flowers.”

I looked at her askance.
“Whatever for? You’d think this was the prom. It’s a family night
with hay bales and a horse wagon.”

“Not for you, it isn’t.
Jerry is serious about you being his hostess. I’m sure he’s
thinking way beyond this weekend.” She puckered her lips and gave a
mincing little shrug.

“Um... Yes, I’m sure he
is,” I agreed as I pulled out my cell phone. But I knew Adele had
no idea exactly what he was thinking.

That evening, Chad called
to report that he and three friends would be leaving after
Brittney’s last class on Friday and should arrive by midnight. I
reminded him that I had no extra beds and they would be strictly in
camping mode at my house.

“Not a problem, Ma,” he
said cheerfully. “The girls are bringing a blow-up mattress and
Ryan and I will just sleep on the floor. The girls can have that
little room I used before.”

“There are two small rooms
off the living room—one each for men and women. You can consider it
the weekend dormitory.”

“Anything is better than
the dorms,” he said with a laugh.

“Glad to oblige, but you’ll
have to fight over the one bathroom,” I countered.

Jerry had urged me to take
a break from the decorating on Friday. It was hard for me to let
go. I’d been concentrating on getting everything set for so long it
didn’t seem right to just stop working on it. But the truth was the
school was ready to hold the biggest party of the decade in Forest
County, and despite the intense effort it took to pull it off, the
facility was pretty much in working order and the decorations were
looking good.

By Friday evening, the
black dress was pressed and safely hanging in a plastic cover in my
closet, the jade jewelry was cleaned; I’d shined my low black heels
and located black underwear. I’d had to buy a pair of stockings,
since I could find none in my drawer with no runs. The number of
times I’d worn a dress since moving to Cherry Hill could be counted
on one hand.

I’d been grocery shopping,
made a huge bowl of taco salad, filled the freezer with ice cream,
the refrigerator with milk and pop, and the cupboard with cereal,
salty snacks and cookies. A bowl of fruit sat on the counter. I
hoped I was ready for the college kids.

It was a good thing I’d
taken the day off, or redirected my efforts at any rate. Getting
ready for four young people and a dress-up affair was a project in
itself.

I dozed on the couch until
I was awakened by laughter and pounding footsteps on the terrace.
Just as someone knocked, I opened the door and the kids piled into
the living room. The rain hadn’t really stopped all week. In fact,
it was still drizzling, and water droplets glistened on their
shoulders and hair. The boys were lugging large duffel bags with
pillows and folded blankets tucked under their arms. A tall girl
carried an overnight case, and the other one had a backpack slung
over one shoulder.

Chad stamped his feet on
the mat and despite being in the presence of friends, gave me a
bear hug. “Ma, this is Ryan, Brittney and Audra.”

Ryan was short and skinny
with dark hair and eyes. Brittney was a willowy blond, and Audra a
plump brunette. They all smiled tentatively at me.

“Call me Ana. I’m glad you
made it without any problems. You’ll have those two little rooms
for sleeping,” I said, pointing to the far side of the living room.
“The bathroom’s upstairs, and there’s food in the kitchen if you’re
hungry.”

That seemed to break the
ice, and everyone began talking at once.

“The temperature’s dropping
like a rock,” Ryan said, letting the duffels and bedding fall to
the floor and rubbing his arms in an apparent effort to warm
them.

Brittney asked, “Which way
to the stairs?” and made a beeline when I pointed her in the right
direction.

Chad and Audra began to
sort out the equipment and poked their heads into the small rooms.
One was completely empty, and I’d begun to arrange the other as an
office, but all it held were a desk and chair and some boxes of
receipts and mail. “We’ll take the office room,” Chad
said.

Audra nodded approval and
began lugging a large duffel into the empty room. “I’ll get this
mattress blown up,” she announced to no one in
particular.

Because Chad had been here
before, he knew his way around the kitchen. The kids were soon
munching on pretzels and cookies and downing bottles of pop. They
quizzed me on how to get to the school, and if they’d be able to
arrange their props and practice the skit before show time. I gave
them all the necessary information, and headed upstairs to my
bedroom.

I could still hear their
laughter and chatting when I drifted off to sleep. As much as I
liked living alone, it was nice to occasionally have young people
in the house.

Chapter 42

My alarm went off at eight.
I quietly made coffee and slipped out the kitchen door with a few
snacks of my own in a tote bag. There wasn’t a peep coming from the
other side of the house where the young people had crashed sometime
after two a.m.

Thankfully, I arrived at
the school before anyone else. I knew the day would be one long
parade of deliveries, challenges, and probably a good many small
snafus to sort out.

I walked through the
building checking out all the rooms that would be in use. Most of
the activity would be centered in the main auditorium which would
serve as ballroom, theatre and general meeting place. However, the
front hallway, looking lovely as a sidewalk café, would also be
highly used. The setting was better than ever. Someone, Jerry I
presumed, had brought in several brightly painted doors and
fastened them somehow against the inside wall, increasing the
appearance of a row of small shops with outdoor tables. There was
also a life-size statue of a dog, with tongue lolling, seated
beside one door. Whoever brought it had added a collar and a leash
which trailed on the “ground”—the obedient dog waiting while its
master shopped. The sprinkling of autumn leaves on the floor and
the pots of chrysanthemums completed the atmosphere.

Down the hallway to the
left, the first room on the outside wall was ready to receive the
food. It was painted, cleaned, and filled with two rows of long
tables covered with plastic. Against one wall was another row of
tables, already arranged with piles of foam plates and cups,
napkins, and disposable flatware. Condiments were on yet another
table which also held three large beverage dispensers. I presumed
they were empty at this point. Trash cans flanked the doorway, both
inside the room and in the hall. The biggest problem with the food
service was that the kitchen was the opposite direction, down the
main hallway. Although Jerry had managed to get the refrigerator,
stove and hot and cold running water working, the cafeteria itself
had badly-damaged walls and wasn’t useable. The caterers, Janice,
Jimmie, and whoever else they recruited, would have to run back and
forth between the kitchen and the “food room.”

The next room to the left
was designated the coat room. It probably would have been good to
organize some sort of check system, but there hadn’t been time.
We’d managed to borrow a good many racks and hangers from churches
and businesses. And we’d put extra tables in the room. People would
have to fend for themselves, and hopefully wouldn’t leave valuables
in their wraps, although I realized small town folks had a
different mentality than I on this topic. They pretty much trusted
everyone. I thought again about the grisly scene Jerry and I had
found almost directly below where I was standing, and doubted that
any town could count on that sort of innocence any more, if it had
ever been real at all.

At the end of the hall, the
kids’ game room was also cleaned and painted. It looked like
Cheyanne might have stopped in on Friday as there were several
cartons of equipment stacked against one wall. Through the mesh of
plastic crates I saw balls, bowling pins, and other brightly
colored objects. Several hula hoops leaned against the
pile.

My last stops on the
checklist were the restrooms just across from the game room. They
were clean and all the stalls had doors that locked. Although the
sinks were stained, they had been scoured, and the hot and cold
water worked.

Beyond the lavatories, a
wire gate had been extended across the side hall and locked to
block access to the rest of the building. I knew there was a
matching gate which was closed around the corner at the far end of
the front hall. Seeing the gates made me wonder if people would be
able to access the upstairs. I climbed to the second floor and
found there was also a gate there, closing off the upper hallway. I
checked, and it was locked securely. At the far end I could see yet
another gate which would stop people who came up the stairs at the
east end of the building.

Everything seemed to be
prepared as well as could be expected, and better than I had dared
to hope.

I descended and headed back
toward the main entrance just in time to intercept a man and woman
who were carrying large black cases.

“We’re The Blue Grass,” the
man said. “The band. Where do we set up?”

Another man pulled open the
entrance door and struggled to drag a large box on wheels through.
I hurried to his aid, and jammed a triangular doorstop underneath
the heavy unwieldy door. Cold air rushed in and a breeze stirred
the leaves on the floor. It smelled like November, not
October.

“Straight through those
double doors,” I said. “You’ll be to the right on the stage. I’ll
show you.” Two more women with guitar cases traipsed in behind the
large wheeled box.

The day’s madness had
begun.

Before I finished showing
The Blue Grass where the electric outlets were, Janice, her husband
and Suzi pulled up in a van and began carrying in trays loaded with
tarts. I directed Janice to the kitchen. She said she’d find what
she needed and called over her shoulder that Jimmie Mosher and Jack
Panther were both going to help serve.

Loud music was coming from
the auditorium/ballroom, and I realized the band was playing a CD
for their entertainment while they were setting up.

Cheyanne must have arrived
in the meantime because I saw a flash of pink, head height,
disappear through the far door. A young boy, about six years old,
was running full tilt down the hallway, sliding on the loose leaves
and yelling with delight.

“Geronimo!” he screamed. He
ran up several stairs at the end of the hall, turned and jumped
into the leaves. His enthusiastic leap propelled him into a table,
which overturned, dumping the tablecloth and a vase of silk flowers
onto the floor. I hurried toward him with the goal of finding out
whose responsibility he was, and to right the table. Thankfully the
vase was plastic and didn’t break.

Cheyanne stuck her head out
of the game room door and admonished, “Cody, get in here this
minute. You can run off that energy in this room. Not in the hall.
Sorry.” Her voice had changed on the final word as she turned to me
and rolled her eyes.

“Yours?” I
asked.

“All forty-eight pounds of
him,” she giggled, grabbing his arm and forcing him through the
door. “He was with his dad last weekend, so you didn’t meet him
then.”

“Ms. Raven!” the guy from
the band who had introduced himself as Mick called, striding toward
me. “Can we get access to that balcony? We’d like to clamp our
lights on the railing.”

I wasn’t sure if my key set
included one for the gates, but I beckoned to him and we climbed
the stairs. There were several keys on the ring that I knew didn’t
fit the front door or the interior doors.

“That one,” Mick said,
jabbing a finger at a key that was entirely different from the
others.

I tried it, and the gate
accordioned open with some pushing, creaking and sticking. I was
irritated just because a man had felt the need to point out the
obvious to a female.
Better get over
it
, I told myself.
There are going to be a lot of requests and directives and
annoyances today
. Just to preserve my
position of authority, though, I had the key to the balcony already
between my fingers before we reached the doors.

“There you go. Will you
need access to this for the evening?” I asked.

“It would be good,” was his
immediate response. “I can run the light and sound board from up
here.”

“I’ll see if I can find
another key for the gates. We don’t want everyone in town to be
wandering through the building,” I said.

We had descended to the
railing at the front edge of the raked balcony, and as I looked
over, Chad, Ryan, Brittney and Audra burst into sight in the main
ballroom. Mick immediately began snaking cords over the
edge.

“We’ll tape these to the
wall in the corner,” he said, “You won’t have to worry about anyone
tripping or getting caught in them.”

“This is awesome!” Chad
exclaimed, turning and taking in the décor on each side of the
room. “Ma! Where are you? We’re here. Where’s the murder going to
be?” he continued. Mick was still talking to me, but I couldn’t
take in two conversations at once.