The Traveling Corpse (27 page)

Verna said, “We were lucky to get a big table
so quickly today. We could eat earliah and beat the crowd if you
Baptists and Methodists would let out soonah. Can't you pray any
earliah on Sunday mornings?”

Barb said, “I do well to get to my Sunday
School class at 9:30. Church follows.”

“We've got an 8:30 service,” Doc explained,
“but I like singing in the choir, and that's at the second service.
You Catholics seem to have a dozen Masses. You can even go on
Saturdays. You have a smorgasbord to choose from!”

“Speaking of smorgasbord,” Barb said, “let's
go to the buffet.”

When they had heaped their plates with fried
rice, spring rolls, smoked spareribs, sweet and sour pork, and an
assortment of other Asian dishes, Doc continued talking about
singing. “I thoroughly enjoy singing in my church choir and also
our BradLee Chorus. Both have terrific directors, and I've sung
under a lot of different directors in my lifetime. These choir
leaders are
good.
Most of us down here in these choirs are
seniors—well past our prime, but I'm amazed at the quality, at the
tones we old people can still produce. I thought when I retired
that my singing days would be over.”

“With your marvelous basso,” Von said, “you
can't retire. You're a star!”

Doc was embarrassed by the praise, but he
enjoyed being appreciated as much as he enjoyed still being able to
sing solos.

While they were waiting for their ice cream,
Annie said, “I know I shouldn't eat it, but it's the best ice cream
in town; it is so rich and creamy. I just can't pass it up.”
Laughingly, she added, “I'll eat the ice cream and let Art have my
fortune cookie.”

“That'll save ya a lot of calories,” DeeDee
teased. Annie smiled.

Brad had started a fun tradition that they
followed each Sunday. Each one read his/her fortune after breaking
the cookie open, and then they added two words—‘in bed.' DeeDee and
Doc got the biggest laughs. She read hers: ‘You will enjoy having a
great circle of friends—in bed!' Then Doc topped it with his: ‘You
will travel to many places—in bed.' Art was fast with a quip, and
Brad added an innuendo. The women raised their eyebrows in mock
displeasure. Doc quickly added, “I may be old, but I can still
remember—some things!” DeeDee pulled a face.

After finishing their little ritual, Barb
brought the group back to reality by saying, “Just what do you
think our fortune is going to be now? What should we be doing next
about this ‘problem' we've gotten ourselves into?” She looked
around the table. None of them offered a solution, so she
suggested, “If you don't have anything planned for this afternoon,
why don't you all come back to our house for a brain-storming
session? Is that okay with you, Brad?”

“Fine,” is all he said with a smile. Brad
loved having friends in their home. His first wife hadn't enjoyed
entertaining so they had seldom had company. Brad was delighted
when Barb invited people over even when the invitations were casual
and impromptu.

Art reminded them of the coming funeral
service, “Aren't you going to the memorial service for Jiggs?
That's at two o'clock this afternoon.”

“Oh, that's right. I forgot,” Barb said.
“Guess we'd better go, don't you think so, Brad?”

Her husband replied, “For sure.” He turned to
Art, “Glad you reminded us. As a member of the Board, I should
attend since Jiggs was such a loyal volunteer.”

Von said, “I was over at Old Main at 8
o'clock this morning with Tom-Tom and the other volunteers setting
up chairs for the service. Jiggs' granddaughter decided to have it
here in the park. They go to a little church in town; it wouldn't
be big enough to seat all the people who will be coming. Jiggs was
well liked. There'll be a crowd.”

“We'll be going to the memorial too,” Doc
said. “Then I have to go to Vespers at 4:30.”

“Are you singing?” Von asked.

“Yes, I promised the woman who's in charge of
Vespers this month that I would sing if she'd let me do some Welsh
hymns in honor of St. David's Day.”

“When's that?

“March second. It's a month early, but we'll
be away—over at my aunt's that Sunday.”

“And just what is St. David's Day?” Barb
wanted to know.

“Well, he's the patron saint of Wales. I was
named David for him. You all know that St. Patrick is the patron
saint of Ireland; well, St. David is the patron saint of Wales—only
the Welsh aren't as good at public relations as the Irish. Our
saint's day isn't very well known.”

“And you don't have as much fun on March
second as the Irish do on the seventeenth,” DeeDee teased.

“You're right, but I always enjoyed it. When
I was growing up in a Welsh farming community, we always had a
church supper on the second of March to honor the occasion. They'd
have daffodils on the table, hang the Welsh flag on the wall with
the big red dragon on it, sing some Welsh hymns and have a speaker
who'd talk about Wales. Did I ever tell you how I came to be born
in the U.S.A. instead of Wales?”

His friends shook their heads.

“Well, my great grandfather loved to sing,
and he particularly liked to sing in four-part harmony. For some
unknown reason to me, the English banned singing in four-part
harmony—wouldn't allow it! That was the last straw for him. He'd
heard that you could own your own land in America as well as sing
any way you wanted to. So he got on a boat and crossed the ocean,
and here I am!”

“That is so interesting!” Verna said. “All my
family are of French descent. They were not too fond of the English
either. I'm sure you all read Longfellow's
Evangeline
in
high school. Some of my ancestors hid out when the British rounded
them up and burned their houses. Since they couldn't go back to
their homes, they made their way from Newfoundland down to Maine.
If they hadn't, they'd have been put on a ship heading South like
Evangeline, and I'd have a Southern accent instead of this one from
Maine!”

Before they rose from the table, Annie said
to Barb, “I think you're right; we need to have a brain-storming
session. How about if we all come over after Vespers?”

“Good idea,” Doc said. “The program only
lasts about 45 minutes; then we have fellowship with a finger-food
supper. We can be at their house by six, or six-fifteen, can't we,
DeeDee?'

“No problem except there's a college
basketball game on TV tonight that I'd really like ta watch.
Tennessee's playing. I like ta root for tha Big Orange.”

“Dear me,” Barb sighed. “We are supposed to
be retired seniors, and we're so busy that we can't find time to
have a planning session.”

“Look,” Doc suggested to the B's, “DeeDee and
I can skip the supper after Vespers; then we can be at your place
by 5:30. Would that work? We can hash this out and still watch the
basketball game.”

“I've already made my sandwiches. I'll jest
bring them with us; we can share them with y'all,” DeeDee offered.
“There's plenty.”

Annie offered, “I made some cole slaw
yesterday. I'll bring it, and we'll make a party out of it.”

Verna added, “I've got most of a lemon cake
left; there'll be enough for all of us to have a piece. Is that
okay with you, Barb?”

“I love it!” Barb gushed. “Come on over;
it'll be the easiest party I've ever thrown.”

 

* * *

 

As they left the restaurant, Art opened the
car door for Annie then walked around their van and slid behind the
wheel. Before he turned on the ignition, Annie asked, “Would you
mind if we went by the pond to see if that trapper is there?”

“Do you know when he's coming?”

“No, but our sergeant called him yesterday.
She said she'd left a message for him. I don't know when he's
coming. Let's take a chance, shall we?”

“Okay by me,” Art said, “but I want to go
home first and get the golf cart. The sergeant can get away with
driving her cruiser across the golf course, but the rangers
wouldn't be happy with us if we tried it. Are you going to change
clothes?”

Annie answered, “Well, we want to go to the
memorial service; so I guess we can just leave on what we have.
Maybe I'll bring an old pair of sneakers to put on if we walk in
the field.” She looked at their casual clothes and added, “We
certainly don't dress up to go to church here in Florida like we
used to in Wisconsin.”

 

* * *

 

Art and Annie drove on the cart path to Blue
Number Five and crossed behind the tee to the pond. They stood by
the fence and looked over into the field where the ostriches and
emus were quietly grazing. She picked out ‘Carol,' but she was not
‘wearing' jewelry today. There was no alligator to be seen and no
human beings either, only a half dozen white cattle egrets were
hunting for food near the pond. The Andersens shrugged off their
disappointment and drove back to Old Main.

They were early for the service, but it
seemed easier to wait than to drive home and soon turn around and
return. As they entered the building, they heard the old familiar
hymn ‘Rock Of Ages'. Four BradLee musicians were rehearsing for the
coming funeral service. Without a break, the men segued into
‘Nearer My God To Thee'. For several years, the group had simply
been called ‘The Trio'. There was a piano, a bass viol, and a
trumpet player. But the men had recently added a fourth musician
who was talented enough to play the saxophone as well as the
fiddle; so now they were known as ‘The Plus One Trio'. Art
whispered to Annie, “I never heard them play any religious music
before except ‘When The Saints Come Marching In'! Aren't they
good?”

She answered, “They are amazing! They never
use any music. How they can end up together at the same time and in
the same chord beats me! They are four very talented old men who
are good enough to play any lounge in New York City! It's a treat
to listen to them play, and we get to hear them free here in
BradLee!”

Two couples sat down behind them. The
Andersens couldn't help but overhear them talking about Jiggs's
death. One said, “It is so sad about his untimely death.”

“Yes, and he was such a kind man; he never
did any harm to anyone,” another returned.

Art leaned over and whispered in Annie's ear,
“They certainly don't know the whole story, do they?”

She whispered back, “No, they don't, and
neither do we, if you think about it.”

Karl Kreeger and other Bingo volunteer
workers served as pallbearers. There wasn't much lifting involved,
they just rolled the closed casket down the center aisle on a
wheeled dolly. The pallbearers sat together on the front row of
chairs on one side of the aisle while Jiggs's son, daughter,
grandchildren and their assorted mates occupied those on the other
side. From her seat, Annie could see the left side of Karl's face;
it was as emotionless as a mask.

 

* * *

 

After the half-hour Protestant service,
friends of the deceased served light refreshments. Tables covered
with white paper for this special occasion were set up in the
Annex. Dolly and Molly, the twin sisters who helped in the kitchen
for Bingo, along with Herb Harris were taking care of the kitchen
duties. All mourners were invited to stay, but Annie said to Art,
“I'm still full from our dinner this noon. If you don't mind, let's
skip the food and go back over to see if the trapper's there
yet.”

Art liked the idea. They met the Davises at
the door. Doc said, “We've got a little while before Vespers. We're
going to see if the trapper's there.”

“That's where we're heading too.”

Before long, the B and V's, showed up. They
were all curious, wanting to know what was happening in this next
stage of ‘Our Mystery'. At Blue Number Five, they found Sgt.
Menendez and Deputy Juarez talking to a man that none of them had
ever seen before. When the sergeant saw ‘her seniors', she brought
the man over to introduce him. “This is Pete Peterson. He's the
trapper we've called in.” Pete laid a five foot long stick
carefully down on the ground before shaking hands with the
seniors.

There was no alligator in sight, but they
could see bait hung out over the water on the golf course side of
the pond. Annie decided that the trapper didn't want to be in the
field with the ostriches and emus. He chose to do his trapping on
the end of the pond where the only extra danger might be getting
hit in the head by some golfer with a bad slice. They settled down
to wait and watch.

In a low hushed voice, Pete told them, “This
here's a cagey one. I was here last night, but Mr. Alligator kept
out of sight. But, if he's still here, I'll git him.”

Doc asked about the bait he was using. Pete
explained, “It's a cow lung. I got me a twelve-ought hook inside my
bait. Last week, I had ta trap a ‘leven-footer. Fer that big of a
‘gator I put two hooks inside tha bait. Some trappers use a dead
rabbit er chicken fer bait er road-kill, but I'm partial to usin' a
cow lung. It's a treat, an' eventually Mr. Alligator, he'll swallow
it; he jest can't resist it. That rebarb's attached to a
three-eight inch nylon rope.” Pete pointed to a rope that ran from
the bait to a bar driven in the ground. “When he swallows that
bait, he also swallows tha hook an' rope. I jest hang it all there
on tha edge of tha water ta tempt Mr. Alligator. Once he swallows
it, I pull on tha rope. It kin be a struggle, but I'll win.”