The Mezzo Wore Mink (40 page)

“
Say your line!” insisted Moosey.

Ian grabbed hold of Pequot and hauled him over to the door. Pequot was still growling.

“
Your line!” said Moosey, baring his teeth.

“
Gooble-gobble,” said Pete.

“
Thwang!” sang Moosey’s bow. The arrow, mercifully devoid of an actual arrowhead, hit Pete right in the chest with a resounding “thwack!”

“
Son of a bitch!” yelped Pete. “You shot me! Is this in the script?”

“
Whoop-whoop-whoop,” hollered Moosey, leaping onto the stage, wielding his tomahawk in his free hand.

Pete gave a girlish scream, turned tail feathers and hopped off the table quicker than you could say “Little Feather scalp-um gobble-gobble.” Moosey chased him all the way to the sacristy to great applause and general hilarity.

“
I think he would have killed me!” Pete puffed. “Was that a real tomahawk?”

“
Yeah,” I said. “But he probably wouldn’t have killed you. I think it was just method acting.”

“
Sure,” said Pete, glaring at me. “That’s probably it.”

•••

Cynthia’s belly dance to
Over the River and Through the Woods
was especially moving, especially when she got to the part that went “Oh, hear the bell ring, Ting-a-ling-ling!” Her Nubian hips rang every bell on her girdle and then some. The Little Lemmings, all seven of them, dressed as cranberries, were on their best behavior as they sang along with their father’s nightclub stylings.

Following Cynthia’s galloping gyrations, Muffy and Varmit Lemieux, Pocahontas and John Smith respectively, performed the
Indian Love Call
, complete with lute and sacbut accompaniment.

“
When I’m calling you…ooo…ooo,” sang Varmit.

“
I will answer too…ooo…ooo,” answered Muffy, batting her eyes.

The vegetables and side dishes came wandering onto the table two-by-two and hand-in-hand, providing choral backup. The cranberries swayed back and forth in rhythm.

“
When I call, our love will come true,” sang Muffy and Varmit.

“
You’ll belong to me,” answered the vegetables.

“
I’ll belong to youuuuu.”

•••

We were treated to a dramatic reenactment of the
First Thanksgiving
with Billy Hixon as Miles Standish, Beaver Jergenson as Squanto, and Bootsie Watson as Priscilla Mullins. Mr. Christopher provided the narration and many other Indians and pilgrims had one-liners to spice up the story.

“
Ugh!” said Beaver. “Me show-um how to plant-um corn.”

“
Thank thee, gentle Squanto,” said Billy.

The
Hymn to the Living Gobbler
was the finale, of course, and I was looking forward to it, but before that I had to get married.

After the Thanksgiving dramatization, Marjorie struck a chord with her spoken and signed version of
Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast
, and then, as the Consort began to play, Meg’s bridesmaids began the short walk down the aisle. I was standing by the side door at the front of the north transept with Father Tony, also dressed in pilgrim garb.

“
Who’s that?” said Tony, nodding toward the balcony.

“
That’s the Exorkizein,” I said.

“
Exorcists?”

“
Your Greek is pretty good,” I said with a grin. “I hope they’re just here to watch.”

“
Too late now,” said Tony, giving me a nudge. “Time to go.”

Tony and I went to our positions on the table. The vegetables, side dishes, Indians and pilgrims moved back and gave us room. Pete waddled in from the other side, his tail feathers resplendent in the spotlight. He took his place beside me.

“
Lookin’ good,” I whispered.

“
Thank thee, gentle Squanto,” he said under his breath.

Bev was the first maid-of-honor, followed by Crayonella, Elaine and Cynthia. They were all dressed the same—dark yellow dresses made of a material suggestive of buckskin, with a design that conveyed the impression of Indian princesses. They all had yellow flowers in their hair and carried bouquets of yellow flowers. Four black women. Very pretty. Very PC. I tried to look past them but couldn’t see Meg.

Then, the music changed and there she was, walking by herself, a vision of loveliness. She didn’t carry any flowers, but walked down the aisle, head high, hands at her side, and took her place by my side. She reached down and took my hand.

“
Dearly beloved,” began Father Tony, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man’s innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church.”

Meg and I had chosen the 1662 service with a few changes, it being the closest to the one that real pilgrims might have used.

“
I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it.”

We didn’t answer, but looked at each other and smiled. Then my nose twitched and I smelled something burning.

“
Hayden Konig, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her and serve her, comfort and honor her, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

“
I will.” The odor was stronger now.

“
Megan Farthing, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love him and serve him, comfort and honor him, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

“
I will.” Meg smelled it now. I could see her eyes dart toward the back of the church.

“
Then repeat after me. I, Hayden…”

I repeated the vows, trying to keep my mind on the task at hand.

“
I, Megan,” began Father Tony, leading Meg through the same ritual. I could now see other people looking around from the corner of my eye. I didn’t see any smoke, but the smell was pervasive.

“
You may place the ring on her finger and repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed…” I followed his lead.

“
With my body, I thee worship,” I pledged, “and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

“
Let us pray,” said Father Tony, oblivious to the smell. Then I heard a low growl come from under the platform where we were standing.

“
Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. For as much as Hayden and Megan have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, I now pronounce you…”

It was at that moment that all hell broke loose.

•••

Gamba, the vegan dog, had followed his nose under the giant dining table and found a nest of Minques taking refuge behind the orange material draping the front of the platform. He was not amused. Gamba was easily the match for one Minque, maybe two. But there were more. A lot more. The odds weren’t good. Still, he had quite a pedigree—half Rottweiler and half Dachshund, a tough little dog bred to hunt badgers. Added to that, he’d never tasted meat and seemed quite anxious to do so. All this may not have been the exact analysis of the situation that went through his little canine brain at that moment, but was probably a better explanation than his actual thought process, a process that went something like this:

“
Roooowwwwwrrr!”

Minques shot from under stage like brown, furry bullets out of a scattergun. Crayonella screamed and tried unsuccessfully to climb up the nearest pilgrim. Bev bent over and smacked one of the creatures on the snout with her flowers.

“
Get out of here!” she screeched. “You…you…Minque!”

Elaine and Cynthia had taken refuge by standing on the front pew, a position taken by most of the women (and some of the men) in the congregation as fifteen or twenty Minques beat a panicked exit toward the front doors with a mad Rott-wiener in hot pursuit.

•••

Dave and Nancy had their hands full. They’d planned to come into the church and watch the wedding ceremony, but the DANGLs had marched into town to protest the halting of the sale of Camp Possumtickle. The DANGLs had arrived in the park, bought Ferris wheel tickets from D’Artagnan, and subsequently disrobed, timing their demonstration so they’d be very visible, riding atop the Ferris wheel, just as
The Living Gobbler
came to a close. They had all twelve bucket seats filled with thirty-six DANGLs when Dave and Nancy, sitting in the office having a cup of coffee, spotted them and came running.

Dave and Nancy rounded up the ones on the ground, three and four at a time, and took them over to the Police Station. When the station filled up, they took them to the Slab. Dave called for help from the Boone PD, but Appalachian State had a home football game and they couldn’t spare the manpower for a bunch of Christian nudists.

•••

Collette had been walking into town from her basement apartment, determined not to have anything to do with the wedding, but curious nevertheless. She planned to stand outside and watch as the wedding party exited the church, but, upon reaching the square, found the town deserted, most of the occupants either out of town visiting relatives, inside relaxing, or at
The Living Gobbler
performance. Adding to her confusion were piles of clothes in the park. Lots of them. She grabbed her cell phone and tried to call Dave. Imagine her surprise and subsequent panic when she heard Dave’s ring coming from a phone sitting on top of a pair of khaki pants. She never bothered to look up into the Ferris wheel but ran screeching toward St. Barnabas.

Collette flung wide the doors of the church. The Minques didn’t even slow as they raced past her. “It’s the Rapture!” she wailed, bursting into the confluence of panicked Minques, vegetables, Indians, ticket-holders, assorted pilgrims, and one enthusiastic Rott-wiener. “We who are alive shall be caught up in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air—First Thessalopians 4:17! It’s the Rapture! It’s the Rapture
and I’ve been left behind!”

•••

The Exorkizein, not content to wait until
The Living Gobbler
performance finished, had taken the occasion to light some candles in the choir loft and do a bit of wand waving while Marjorie was bewitching the audience with her rendition of
Hiawatha.
While the Exorkizein were busy watching the performance, one of the lit candles fell into the organ pipe case. They didn’t think much about it until they smelled the smoke. They tried, in vain, to open the case, but it was locked and they were far too late. All five of them had snuck down the stairs and were standing by the front doors just as Collette came in screaming.

•••