Josey's Dippity Do Doodlings

And the Prayer List Gets Longer - Episode 26

2011-08-06T10:02:00.000-05:00

The air became alive. This was big time stuff.

“We are talking about things happening right here in our town that could have national and global consequences. It’s not just the big cities that are being affected you know,” she said as she methodically looked at each member. “Where do you think terrorists and communists are going to set up their surveillance systems?”

All the wide-eyed members shook their heads.

“Right here, in our quiet out of the way, sleepy town. It’s where they can go undetected. You all know me and know I am not one to mention names,” she said. One by one, the members thought back to her many wild accusations in the past.

Glenda continued, “There have been a few new license tags spotted in the community, and our outlying woods are the perfect place for those kind of people to gather. And again, I don’t want to talk about other people, but let’s discuss the Zukerman’s frequent trips out of town. They’ve been members of this community for over five years now and have yet to join our church, or any church for that matter. Why is it that they stay to themselves so much?”

Only Aunt Birdie knew the history of Jay and Thelma Zukerman. She sadly shook her head as she remembered the delightful day she had spent with the two of them. As they had sat in his flower-laden dining room and had tea, Jay had related his past history to her, along with the testimony of his life. He had been a devoted pastor for many years. The strain of parish committees and the long arm of the denominational deity had strangled any hopes and dreams he had of making a difference in peoples lives.

A humble man before the Lord, he finally had concluded that the best way he could serve the Lord was to quietly wrestle the forces of hell on his knees, in the holy sanctity of his home or in his shop, surrounded by his beloved flowers.

And Thelma…what a prayer warrior. She was always the one to bake a cake or send a card to someone who was in need of a touch from the Lord. Twice a week, it was Thelma who visited the nursing home and read scriptures to the tired old forgotten souls of the town.

Glenda’s raspy voice pulled Aunt Birdie back into the present. “And the Chamber is also questioning the fact that maybe Joe Crocker isn’t up to speed as to what he needs to be looking for. He may be the sheriff, but the most complicated issue he has ever had to deal with was when they changed the boundary lines of Carington and he couldn’t figure out if the McNappy twins were caught drinking in this county or not.”

A series of amen’s followed her discourse. That was all the fuel she needed.

“And you all know that Debbie Kettermen sits on the school board and she said that Carly Sutton has been stirring up some trouble at the elementary school.”

Now the mere mention of Carly Sutton agitated the women. Carly was Carington’s first grade school teacher and she was prettier than a magnolia in bloom. Her lean, tanned legs set every hen in town to pecking on her. Being twenty-six and single, also added to her lack of popularity. Carly had tawny freckles that spattered over her dainty nose, which unfortunately only enhanced her green eyes, making every female in town envious. To top it all off, she could be found jogging the dusty streets of Carington every morning at 6:15 AM sharp, and every male in town eagerly awaited her arrival. Pink running shorts and crisp white bobby socks enhanced her tight rear and shapely thighs, and a short middie defined her jiggling upper torso.

You could always tell where Carly had passed because she left a trail of coffee grown cold, discarded newspapers, eggs dried on old stoneware plates and cigarettes with burnt out ashes dangling on them. The men were transfixed for a time, as memories carried them back to forgotten youths, and for this there was no forgiveness. Most anything else could be overlooked if the offender gave peace offerings of sweet smelling lotions or gaily wrapped potted plants, but beauty and youth caused a giant chasm, which no one could breach.

“Well what has she been up to now?” asked Diana Osterling, whose husband was one of the guilty ones that had taken to having his morning coffee at Cornbread Corner instead of the house, just so he could ogle the swift siren as she sped past the café.

Glenda tapped her Bible and folded her hands. “She has brought a request before the school board for the removal of the flag. Can you believe that? The American flag! I don’t know what they believe over there at Trinity, but we can’t allow this kind of thing to start. It’s just an example of what is going on and why we at the Chamber of Commerce thought there was a need to start our own Homeland Security committee.”

Now Carly had indeed questioned the flag, but as always, Glenda had not heard the entire request, nor the reason for it. The flagpole had been erected years ago and with the new school renovation, it was interfering with the drainpipes for the new plumbing system. Her request had been to move the flag, not to remove it.

(Stay tuned for the next episode)

A Cool Wind or Hot Air? - Episode 25

2011-07-28T18:24:00.000-05:00

“Well I’d like us all to bow our heads and wait on the spirit,” Josey said in a hushed voice. She knew this would cause a stir, since they didn’t often call upon the spirit unless there was a big job that needed immediate prayer.

Now, all eyes were upon her, which is where she wanted them. To draw the suspense out a little longer, Josey appeared to riffle through her Bible. When she knew she had everyone’s attention, she licked her lips, folded her manicured hands and raised her eyes upward.

“Lord, now You know we are not here to judge, we are here to help those in need. If that means calling down fire and brimstone to bring correction, then that’s what we have to do, for the good of the soul. And since this involves someone of the clergy, we know what a heavy burden we carry in praying for the deliverance and correction of those you send to lead us.”

Now Josey knew she had them intrigued. Though their heads were bowed, they were fairly twitching, in anticipation of the name she would reveal.

“Lord, as head of the prayer group I know you let me see a lot of things others don’t, since this is the only way I would know how to pray for these lost souls. Right now I lift up Mandy Brennan to you.” She waited for a second as she saw all the obedient heads nod in unison.

“Yes Lord,” they all recited.

“Now I don’t want to go into it that much Lord, because You know what I am referring to. But Lord, we all know drinking is lascivious behavior and one that is not looked at lightly by You, especially for the wife of a man of the cloth. Help her dear Lord and bring her deliverance from this addiction. Thank you for allowing me to be a vessel of honor before You. And thank you for giving me eyes to see, so I can bring special needs to this prayer group. We pray Lord, just show her the errors of her ways. And her, with two little children,” she whispered, as she shook her head and tsk’d tsk’d.

Josey really believed that without the intervention of the prayer group, Carington just could not survive. In her mind, if the weekly prayer warriors did not assemble themselves and run interference for all the sinners in town, Carington would be destroyed like Sodom and Gomorra of old.

As if on cue, strains of “Bringing in the Sheaths” crept through the closed door, reminding all who were present that it was their job to gather all the lost, and present them clean and spotless before the Lord. A new sense of urgency welled up in Josey as music filled the air around her.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

“What?” the members softly gasped.

“That cold wind. Be real quiet now, I believe it’s the spirit. Remember the Bible talks about the mighty wind coming in while they were all praying. Be real still now, so we don’t go and chase it off.”

Unbeknownst to Josey, Percy Putnum had slipped in the door to adjust the air conditioner thermostat. He’d had complaints about the size of the church’s electric bill, but he believed that if they would just replace the old model for a more efficient one, then the money problems would be solved.

Mertis could not hold back the sneeze that erupted.

“Now look at that, it’s gone,” Josey said, shaking her head as the cool blast was replaced with a dank smelling stillness.

Percy silently let himself out the door and braced himself against the wall as he laughed. Finally he had found an avenue for his old Army skills. He was quite amazed that he still had it in him to stealthily enter areas and leave without making a sound.

“Lord,” he prayed, between his laughter, “if that’s the best You’ve got for prayer warriors, we’re in trouble down here. I think we’d do better with that talking mule Nehemiah was on.”

Glenda Jackson sat on the Chamber of Commerce board and always had a wealth of information as to what was happening on the political side of things. When she spoke, everyone was quiet. She hurriedly opened her eyes to see what everyone else was doing, and saw that all eyes were still closed. Probably waiting for the return of the spirit, she thought sarcastically.

She cleared her throat. “Lord, we come before you, a group of women devoted to serving You and our community. We accept the responsibility You have given us and relish the opportunity to be a vital part of bringing change to the lives of those around us. There is a little issue that is causing strife in our community, and I would like to lift it up to you before it hits the Buzz Bee.”

Now she had the curiosity of the group. Anything important enough to get in the paper was their concern, and rightly so. They felt they should be made aware of all matters, prior to any of the other town’s people. Glenda waited just long enough to create some additional suspense, and when she felt the members would surely pop from anticipation, she began again.

“We have formed our own Homeland Security committee right here in Carington.”

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Prayer Requests or Picked Over Lives? - Episode 24

2011-07-24T16:20:00.000-05:00

The room was silent as each woman struggled within herself. They all had so many needs, but they also knew, to verbally tell this group was like taking an ad out in the Buzz Bee paper. So they continued alone, week after week in their own private hells, struggling with the details of life, and the isolation of having no one to talk to. It was really very comical. Here they all religiously gathered every week to pray and reach the heart of God, yet no one felt enough trust within the group to ask for help. So as always, they projected their prayers outside of their own lives, and set about bringing order to those in Carington who needed a dose of the spirit to bring them to their knees.

They kept an ongoing list of their targets. As long as the list continued to grow, the member’s fiery tongues were averted from lashing out at their own individual secret demons. They called out names of local residents they had seen or heard of committing some kind of sin, and woe be onto that person who landed on their prestigious list. With all their holy power, the group had no doubt that Michael the Arc angel himself would make a guest appearance at the home of whoever graced their list that week.

One by one, people’s private lives were openly discussed, as the committee decided on what would be the best way for the Lord to bring correction to the misguided souls. This week was no different as the women raised their voices to heaven, though unbeknownst to them, their prayers were so laden down with judgment, they never went any higher than the yellowed cottage cheese ceiling.

“Well I don’t know about you all, but I am concerned about Karen Foster. Why is it that the pastor’s wife doesn’t attend these prayer meetings? It just doesn’t seem right, and the whole town is talking about it. I think we need to ask the Lord to convict her. She just can’t seem to see the error of her ways,” stated Tootsie, as she remembered how Karen had treated her that morning.

“Amen, Amen,” murmured all the women.

Aunt Birdie always sat at the end of the table with her old gnarled hands quietly folded. As a child, her waif like appearance had earned her the nickname Birdie and it had stuck, but it was her daily feedings of wandering geese that conjugated in her backyard that had carried the name along. The women liked to discount her presence. Long ago they had labeled her an old timer, one who couldn’t quite keep up to speed with the changes that had been enacted in the church over the last forty years. Since her life was as dented and crinkled as the pages of her old Bible, they had chalked up her hard life as one who had some hidden sin. Otherwise, what excuse could there be for one who so faithfully followed the Lord? Got to be hidden sin somewhere, they thought.

Her eighty-seven years were as disposable as a baby’s diaper and just as offensive. Her weekly attendance was a constant reminder to the group of what was in store for them all as they silently examined her wrinkled skin, her Mrs. Magoo eyesight, and her white, receding hairline…and the members didn’t like it. They overlooked her prim, freshly starched lace collars, dainty cameo broaches and sweet gray eyes, but more importantly, they overlooked her standing with the Lord.

If anyone could open heaven’s doors, it was Aunt Birdie. Her arthritic knees had worn away the shellac on her old pine wood floors alongside her bed, as she sought His voice and direction for her beloved Carington. She didn’t take to talking about others, and surely did not approve of gossip, which is what the weekly prayer meetings had turned into. Still, she came as regular as the postal service, always delivering some kind of good news to the group.

“Well I wanted to thank the Lord for another beautiful day,” she said. Several of the women rolled their eyes at each other and took turns acknowledging her comment, as if she were a child.

“Yes Aunt Birdie. Forgive us, we were dealing with more important items, but yes, it was a beautiful day,” Josey said, giving Tootsie a nudge.

“Oh Lord yes,” piped in Tootsie, “such a pretty day, which is why I can’t figure out why in the world Bloomers wasn’t open today. I wanted to get some of those yellow daisies for my flower boxes and when I drove by, they were closed again. I think the Zukerman’s are having some marital problems, and from what I’ve heard, we need to pray for them. Seems Jay has gotten a roving eye, and Thelma is too busy watching those day time soap operas to notice.”

Aunt Birdie shook her head and jotted down the Zukerman’s name to pray for. She knew they were on a well-deserved vacation, and if she didn’t send up some prayers on their behalf, waggling tongues would spew seeds of destruction around town that would overtake the beautiful life they had created together.

Josey was literally vibrating from the news she was trying to contain, so as to present the “hot flash” as a prayer request, versus just gossip, which would incur a lifted eyebrow from Aunt Birdie. Finally she could not hold it one more minute and she didn’t want Glenda stealing her limelight with other trivial items.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Symphonies and Silent Prayer - Episode 23

2011-07-12T07:06:00.000-05:00

Dusk was falling on Carington. Lights slowly lit up the quaint little town as children wandered home for dinner, fathers plopped down into recliners and mothers bustled around kitchens. Cornbread Corner was serving chicken and dumplings and the cars parked out front signified there was a crowd tonight. One of the streetlights hummed as it tried to turn itself on and crickets began their evening symphony.

From Carington Heights church, a rainbow prism overflowed from the lit stained glass windows and spilled onto the street. As the women gathered for their weekly prayer meeting, the dank halls of the church became alive with chattering voices.

The first to arrive, Tootsie huffed and puffed as she strategically arranged chairs around the table. Mertis hesitantly entered the room and quietly placed her Bible upon the table.

“Well how you doing Mertis?” Tootsie asked, as she stopped to catch her breath. “I swear, I am going to have a talk with Pastor Foster about these kids. Why is it that they cannot replace these chairs like they found them? Every Tuesday I have to come in here and put this whole room in order. The teens need to find another night to meet on. Anyway, from the sounds of the music I hear coming out of this building, I think they are conjuring up the devil himself. Rock and roll, hippity hop, chanting. I never heard the likes when I was a kid. Bringing in the Sheaths always brought in the Lord for us. Don’t know how that head bopping music they play, can bring in anything, except trouble.”

Mertis sat down and closed her eyes. The old church brought back good memories. She drew comfort from the familiar smells of paste, tempera paint and Spic N Span. The cracked old linoleum had been washed so many times, it edges had curled up along the baseboards and the dim florescent lights flickered, as they cast an artificial light on the crayoned pictures, thumb-tacked to the paneled walls.

“Mertis, hello honey. You still with us?” Tootsie asked, as she placed a large platter of brownies on the table. “Didn’t know if you were praying to the Lord or doing that new fangled meditation. You know they say that is of the devil.”

Mertis shook her head, her dull blue eyes, misting over. “I was just remembering back to when we were kids and the church held that fundraiser for this old linoleum. Do you remember? Where have the years gone?”

She was interrupted as the women converged on the two of them. Greetings were exchanged and coffee cups filled, in anticipation of the meeting. The only one missing was Josey. As Glenda Jackson passed around the sign up sheet, everyone drug out their notebooks and pens, filled their plates with goodies and caught up on the local news.

Josey took a final drag of her cigarette as she raced into the parking lot. Late again. She stomped on the cigarette butt, slammed the car door, jammed her Bible into her tote bag and gave a final smack to her lips. Her heels resounded across the street as she sauntered up the walkway.

“Well hello ladies,” she called, as she made her way to the empty chair at the head of the table. “Tootsie, can you grab me a cup of coffee hon?” she asked, as she pulled a legal pad out of her bag.

She folded her hands and bowed her head and couldn’t help but notice that several of the women had new hairdos and manicured nails, and she knew it hadn’t been done in her shop. Well what goes around, comes around, she thought, as she made it a point to change some of her own shopping habits. She’d be darned if she was going to give them her business, when they didn’t have the decency to spend money at her shop.

“Ladies, let’s start with some silent prayer. Now the good Lord knows we are all gathered here tonight and if He wants something done, He will let us know.”

As the women bowed their heads, their minds were on everything but prayer. Not to mention that not one of them actually knew what a “silent prayer” was. The ambiance of holiness was disrupted as the old air conditioner coughed and a cell phone rang. Josey looked up and her keen eyes spotted Glenda hastily turning her phone off.

“Ladies, how many times have I asked you to turn off those things before you come into the house of the Lord? Just remember, if you can’t give Him a few minutes of your time, then He’ll be too busy for you.”

Glenda gave Josey an evil eye as she placed the phone in her purse. She was bound and determined to talk to Pastor Foster about this rotation deal for the prayer group leaders. Josey was the perfect example she needed, to prove her case as to why not all were called to lead.

Josey waited until she felt the presence of the Lord. Little did she know that the presence she felt, was really a downward draft from the air conditioning vent over her head. Once she felt that gentle whoosh, she knew it was time to begin.

“Who wants to start?” she asked.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Getting the Scoop at Stubby's - Episode 22

2011-07-09T12:06:00.000-05:00

Finally the end of the day, thought Josey as she watched Mandy stroll down the sidewalk.

“That one is going to need some hand holding.” Slowly she pulled the cord on the mini blinds, rubbed her aching back and made her way towards the back room. Glancing at the clock, she saw she had to hustle to get home, eat, and still make the prayer meeting tonight.

“Come on Corky, time to go home baby,” she said, fumbling for her keys. She snapped the lights off, pulled the door to and checked to make sure the burglar alarm was set. Giving a nod in Bud Taylor’s direction, she walked to the small parking lot behind her building. Settling into the warm seat of the car, she gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Goodness Corky, now just settle down,” she said, as she adjusted her sunglasses and shot the volume up on her radio. County music blared as she lit a cigarette.

The short drive home gave her a few minutes to think about the meeting tonight. “Good Lord,” she said into the wind, “I’ve been so busy today, I forgot to go over my prayer list. But with all the sin in this town, I don’t think we’ll have any trouble finding someone to pray for. What do you think Corky?”

Corky gave a nod of understanding and then went back to chewing on her old sock that Josey kept in the car for her. Josey sang along with “Ruby Don’t Take Your Love To Town,” as it blared on her radio and just as she was about to reach the crescendo, the announcer broke through.

“Folks, I hope all of you out there are paying close attention to your local weather reports. Hurricane Charlotte is quickly building in strength. . .”

Josey subconsciously turned down the radio as the announcer’s voice droned on.

“Interrupting my song for that kind of nonsense. Hello, Mr. Announcer,” she said, as she irritably turned the dial, “we are in the middle of the state here. One last stop darling,” she said to Corky, as she wheeled into Stubby’s Drive Thru Liquor store. She pulled forward and noticed the car ahead of her, waiting to pull on to the highway, blinker flashing. Honey colored hair caught her attention.

“What the heck, Corky, you see that baby,” she sputtered.

Her mind was working so quickly she could hardly speak. “Why I don’t believe my eyes. The pastor’s wife, at the liquor store? I knew there was something about that one. What the . . . why I’ve got to let Tootsie know about this.” She began to rummage through her purse for her cell phone.

Pulling forward, she gestured with her hand to Stubby. He was familiar with her hand signals. It meant the usual order, a carton of Virginia Slims 100’s, a bottle of gin and two six packs of beer, whatever was on sale. Stubby couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he watched Josey flailing around with her arms, as she spoke on the phone. She always reminded him of one of those dogs you see in the back window of cars. The ones where the dog’s head rotates back and forth with the movement of the car.

Josey nearly gasped, as Tootsie’s voice boomed through the phone. “Hey Josey, what are you doing? Do you know what time it is? I’m in the middle of getting ready for the prayer meeting.”

“Hush up for one minute, Tootsie. You are not going to believe what I just saw. You know that new preacher’s wife, Mandy? I just spied her leaving Stubby’s Drive Thru. Can you believe that? I told you there was something going on with her. What? I don’t give a hoot and a holler what anybody has to say in this town. Just because I am head of the prayer group does not mean I have to change my life. The Lord wouldn’t have put me in this position if He didn’t think I had something that group needed. I didn’t call to be preached at by you.”

As usual, Tootsie was lecturing Josey on how she should not be frequenting Stubby’s in the light of day. As he handed Josey her change she covered the phone with her hand and whispered, “Stubby, you know that car ahead of me? Who was that?”

Adjusting his pants and rolling the tobacco in his jaw, he smiled and said with a big yellow grin, “Why Josey, I do believe you are wanting some info from me. Now that might just cost you something.” He had been trying to get a date with Josey for eight years.

“Go on, you know I don’t date divorced men. You all carry too much baggage for me,” she said, as she adjusted the volume on her phone.

“Well for your information, that little lady bought a small bottle of brandy. That was one hot looking woman. I haven’t ever seen her before, but she can cruise through my drive through all day long. She had a northern accent, that’s about all I can tell you. You going to need some extras with the storm coming?” he asked, as he handed Josey her purchases and gave her side door a slap.

She gave him a wave and continued her conversation with Tootsie.

“Well Stubby just told me he sold her a gigantic bottle of bourbon. Now what would a preacher’s wife be doing with bourbon? I can hardly stand this. Just when I was in hopes the Lord was sending a shepherd to bring correction to this trash heap of a town, I find out the shepherd’s wife is fleecing the flock. Well I gotta go now. See you in about 45 minutes. Time I drop Corky off, touch up my face and have a little prayer time, I’ll be good as new. I feel like the Lord is going to do something mighty tonight.”

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Just a Touch of Sweetness - Episode 21

2011-07-01T08:58:00.000-05:00

Mandy shuddered. She’d been the object of too many welcoming committees. Too many towns and cities had given them the right hand of welcome and the left foot of fellowship. All she could think of was a group of nosey women strolling up to her front door, inspecting every flower and weed in the yard, and checking to see if the windows had been washed.

She had never grown past the feeling of being violated. It was worse now, since she had the kids. Mandy figured it must be her motherly instinct that caused her hair to stand on end. When that horde of women would surround her kids, cooing and clucking over them, it took everything she had not to slap their gnarly fingers from her children’s sweet cheeks.

“Honey, you doing okay?” asked Josey. She noticed that Mandy had gotten real quiet.

“Now don’t let that Tootsie scare you. She’s got a heart as big as the moon and she means well. If Tootsie takes a liking to you, you’ve got a friend for life, believe me.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” said Mandy, as she relaxed under Josey’s soothing hands. “It’s just a little overwhelming. What with unpacking, two kids, a new church, and being so far away from my family, you know.”

“Well, I can’t say as I do know, because this town is all I’ve ever known,” said Josey, as she dried Mandy’s hair. “And kids…well if the good Lord has a plan for me, then He better jack some guy in the head, because I’m not getting any younger. Not to mention, if my eggs sit any longer, they’ll be hardboiled,” Josey said with a laugh. “But my, my, I do love children. Always wanted a whole yard full of them. Now though, it seems like I’ll have to settle for just a pair.”

Mandy watched as Josey whipped the blow dryer out and began methodically drying her hair, section by section. The warm air soothed her and she closed her eyes. It was so seldom Matt had time to watch the kids for her that she was determined to enjoy every moment of the pampering. Besides, with her eyes closed, hopefully it was a signal to Josey that she was finished talking. She had enough to digest with just Tootsie and Josey. If they were any prelude to what awaited her, then Lord help her to get through meeting the entire congregation.

Josey had enough experience doing women’s hair to know when a woman just wanted to relax, so she used the time to study Mandy. She found herself envious of the young woman, and for Josey, that was unusual. There was something about this one that seemed to be bursting with sweetness . . . a goodness that was not seen too much in Carington.

Maybe it was the monotonous lives, the sameness, the going nowhere for so many people in town, the only way they had to bring drama into their lives was to create it. Constant sniping, griping and backbiting was a way of life, and they had all grown accustomed to it. Without it, what in the world was there to talk about? thought Josey.

She pulled her brush through the silky strands and gave the ends a little flip. The hair just rippled through her fingers. Josey had forgotten what it felt like to handle such pretty hair. She undid the towel around Mandy’s neck and spun her around to look at her handi-work. Mandy shook her head and the honey waterfall floated around her shoulders and down her back. Her cheeks were flushed from the blow dryer, giving her an unusually healthy glow. She smiled at Josey in the mirror.

Josey once more ran her fingers through the shiny locks. “Now, don’t you look pretty. You just keep your head up high and don’t let the folks in this town get you down. If you believe the Lord sent you here for a purpose, then you and your husband hold on to that. Give Him time to work on some hearts and everything will be all right.”

“Thank you Josey, that is so sweet,” said Mandy, as she fairly bounced out of the chair. “How did you know I needed to hear that?” she asked with a little laugh. “And I am going to take your advice. It was so nice meeting you, and I will be back, you can bet on that. Now if I can talk Matt into babysitting for me more often, I may even get extravagant and take time for a manicure and pedicure. Can you tell me where I can get some stamps and the best place for groceries?”

“Well you’re talking to the right person about stamps,” laughed Josey. “They call me the sweepstaking queen around here. The post office is right down the street on your right and the Piggly Wiggly is where you want to go for groceries. Make sure you shop on Wednesday mornings though, because that’s when all the sales start. If you’re not there at the crack of dawn, Mertis Taylor and Glenda Jackson will clean off those shelves.”

Tilting her head Mandy asked, “What do you mean sweepstaking?”

“Never mind honey, that’s for another day. Call me anytime for an appointment.”

She watched as Mandy gently opened the door, poked her head out and looked back.

“Go on girl, you go get em,” Josey said, as she flicked her wrist, her thumbs pointed upright, in a sign of victory.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Mandy Makes Her Move - Episode 19

2011-06-20T19:14:00.000-05:00

A crisp white tee shirt dove into jeans that encased a perfect size six figure. Oh boy, thought Josey, this cannot be good. As Mandy reached out her hand in greeting, Josey took in the well-manicured nails that matched the petite, cocoa painted toes. My word, even her lipstick matches her nails, thought Josey, this one has style.

“Hi, I’m Mandy and thank you for taking me on such short notice. We just moved in and with all the unpacking, I haven’t had time to do anything with my hair. Tonight we’re meeting the congregation for the first time, so I think I need some work. My husband, Matt Brennan, is the new pastor of Trinity church. I’ve been admiring your little town and I just love it.”

Little town, thought Josey, now isn’t that just like someone from the city, but she couldn’t help but like this woman. Maybe it was her eyes, or her soft voice. When Josey looked past the Barbie doll image she felt, rather than saw, that this woman had something going on, and it was going to be her mission to find out just what that was.

“Have a seat honey and let’s see what we can do for you.”

Josey called over to Tootsie, who was nonchalantly acting like she was reading a magazine.

“Tootise, there is the new pastor’s wife. Mandy, this is Tootsie, Tootsie, Mandy.”

Tootsie quickly dried her toes, wedged them into her shoes and plunked herself on the chair next to Mandy.

“Now, you’re just too cute. Where exactly do you come from? I’ve got to tell you, the whole town is sitting on pins and needles waiting on both of you.”

Before Mandy could respond to any of the questions, Tootsie went on, “Well Josey and I are both members of Carington Heights church and have been, long as we can remember. Josey is actually head of our prayer group. It’s supposed to be a surprise, but the whole committee is going to drop by to welcome you here. Were you really in the Peace Corps in Africa?” As she stopped to catch her breathe, Josey interrupted.

“Good Lord Tootsie, you trying to scare this one off? You’ve not let her answer one question. You’re mouth’s running like a jack hammer and if you don’t watch it, you’re gonna get your eye started on that ticking business again.”

Tootsie anxiously rubbed her eyes. “What, is it doing it again?” she asked.

“No,” Josey laughed. “I just said, if you don’t slow down, it’s going to.”

Mandy gave a big smile. “Oh don’t worry about scaring me. I love meeting new people and yes, I was in the Peace Corps and enjoyed every minute of it. When you see the needs of so many people, you realize how blessed you are. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant with my daughter, I think I would have stayed there.”

“Daughter, you’ve got a daughter?” asked Josey. “Honey, you don’t look old enough to be out of high school, let alone have a daughter. How old is she?”

Josey pumped up the chair and clipped a towel around Mandy’s petite shoulders. “Well, I have a beautiful four year old daughter named Madison and Mathew is my eighteen month old son. They keep me pretty busy, which is why I’m so grateful you could squeeze me in. Matt’s at home watching the two of them now.”

Tootsie had been silent long enough and leaned over towards Mandy’s chair so she could be heard over the running water. Josey ran her hands through Mandy’s thick hair, silently admiring it.

“How long has your husband been preaching?” Tootsie asked.

Josey silenced her with a look, as she continued washing Mandy’s hair. “Mandy’s here for some relaxation, so you just hush for a while. I’m sure she hardly gets out from under those two babies, so let her enjoy it.”

Tootsie was a little put off. She had always jealously guarded her and Josey’s friendship. She didn’t take kindly to anyone who even hinted at being of interest to Josey. She opened her purse and rummaged for her lipstick. “Well I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight at the prayer meeting Josey, and Mandy, it was so nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you real soon. When the committee shows up to welcome you, act surprised okay. No use letting on that I let the cat out of the bag.”
Stay tuned for the next episode!

The Finger of God-Episode 18

2011-06-12T07:03:00.000-05:00

She glanced at her watch and saw she had about fifteen minutes before her appointment. Just enough time for one quick smoke, she thought. Making a beeline for her car, she hastily opened the door and fumbled for her cigarettes. Ducking her head, she pulled on the cigarette and let the nicotine settle her. Like a fugitive, she fervently watched, making sure no one could see her. She had this down to a science. She kept a plastic container of handy wipes in her car at all times, alongside her saving grace, peppermint breath mints. Just a few more puffs to steady her nerves, she thought. Pulling down the mirror she gave herself the once over. She made sure there was no pecans from the cinnamon bun wedged between her teeth, threw out her cigarette butt and popped a peppermint into her mouth. Sliding some Coffee Kahlua lipstick over her full lips, she gave a jerk to her lopsided ponytail and smacked her lips.

“It’s show time,” she said aloud. How many times had she been through this? How many new places and faces had she been forced to deal with over the years? Her sincere love of people is what sustained her. She refused to believe man could possibly be so evil, and that is why she never gave up on people. She had a handful of good friends and all the other people she’d met throughout her life were mere acquaintances. The few she allowed to get close to her accepted all her flaws, her own private demons.

It was a good thing she was a creative person because she had to constantly be “on” when she was before the people. It was an unwritten requirement for all pastor’s wives that they always smile, forgive, and above all else, be holy. Mandy laughed to herself. And as soon as I find the secret to all those things, I will have arrived, she thought. She took a deep breath, reminded herself who she was in the Lord, and set out for one more battle, the beauty shop.

Now every woman knows about beauty salons. They are like being the new kid on the block that everyone is wary of. Until you establish a relationship with “the girls,” everything you do and say is chewed on like a piece of bubble gum, and if you’re not careful, you’re liable to get spit out.

The allure of the small town settled Mandy down. She was determined to enjoy herself today and build a new life for herself here. No one knew anything about her, so if she wanted to, she could use this opportunity to recreate herself. Be anyone or anything she wanted to be. It was all in how she presented herself to others, and that was an exciting thought.

Josey’s Dippity Do Beauty Salon was painted across the huge picture window in stenciled letters with flowers dotting the i’s and hanging on the tails of the y’s. That’s cute, Mandy thought, as she grabbed a hold of the doorknob. Taking one last deep breath, she arranged a smile on her face and opened the door. She let her eyes adjust, if that was possible. What she saw made her think she had stepped back in time, instead of into a beauty salon.

The walls were Pepto Bismo pink, the strong odor of permanents stung her eyes, and everywhere she looked there were pictures of naked babies. Suppressing a laugh, her eyes waited for some Disney character to pop out of a flower and when they landed on Josey, she was not disappointed.

Josey had a few seconds herself, to quickly survey her new customer. Long honey colored hair was held hostage by a pink scrungee, but wisps of the fine hair had escaped and framed a perfectly shaped oval face. The thickest eyelashes Josey had ever seen shielded huge amber eyes, and two dimples drew attention to a set of lush lips.

Looks like the finger of God went and stamped His approval on that face, thought Josey. The Lord may have given His approval, but once the women in town saw this one, watch out. They’d forgive you for most anything, except good looks. Somehow they just couldn’t get past that jealousy.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Nadine's Loose Lips-Episode 17

2011-06-04T08:48:00.000-05:00

Mandy laughed, “Cornbread Corner…what and where is that?” she asked. Her eyes quickly took in the pumpkin plank wood floors, the dainty lavender striped tablecloths on the wrought iron café tables and the huge antique coffee urn.

“Go south to the tip of town. It’s right next to Carington Heights church and it’s where this whole town has taken to meeting every morning for coffee and gossip.”

Shaking her head Nadine said, “Oh Lord, I shouldn’t have said that, and you being a pastors’ wife and all. I try to still my tongue, but like the Bible says, it’s got a mind of its own. Seems the older I get, the more I lose my wits and the smarter my old tongue gets.”

Mandy sensed Nadine’s frustration. “Well don’t worry about offending me. I’ve lived in the city too long, and please, I may be the pastors’ wife, but I know what you’re talking about with gossiping people. I’d love one of those luscious looking cinnamon rolls. I’ve got a hair appointment, but I’ll make time for one of those.”

“You going down to Josey’s?” Nadine asked, as she nervously glanced out the window.

Mandy noticed the look, “Yes, why?”

“Oh nothing. There I go again. You never mind. Here’s your cinnamon bun. You want some fresh coffee to go with that? I grind my own beans, unlike Rosa over there. Oh my goodness, there I go again. I am having one of those days I guess. See, that’s what happens when you don’t take time to read your Bible in the morning. Everything just goes wig whammy the whole rest of the day.”

“Wig whammy?” Mandy asked laughing, “and no, I think I’ve had enough caffeine for today.”

“You just watch yourself at that beauty shop,” Nadine said as Mandy headed for the door. Suddenly the tinkle of the bell when she opened the door, didn’t sound quite as sweet.

Nadine plunged her hands back into the sticky dough. “Don’t be a stranger, and anytime you need catering for your church, just give me a call, I’m in the book.”

Mandy bit into the thick bun and savored the buttery taste of cinnamon as it melted in her mouth. Maybe she should have gotten a cup of coffee, she thought. And a nice cigarette after that. No, she told herself, we are not going to go there. Her desire to smoke was one of the things she had not left behind in the city. Matt was so patient with her. Only he knew about her unyielding habit and his answer for it was prayer. For years she had secretly stolen out on her patio to light up. She laughed to herself, as she imaged the congregation seeing their fine upstanding pastors’ wife puffing on her cigarette like a frenzied dragon. In their eyes, there was no way one could be holy with a lit cigarette suspended between their fingers, yet at the same time, they devoured people with their tongues and licked their souls clean like satiated lions. Well the Bible does speak of the devil roaring about like a lion seeking whom he may destroy, Mandy thought, as she walked on.

She stopped to gaze in the shop windows. Purple pansies and yellow daffodils in a baby blue window box waved in the breeze, outside Lucille’s Dress Shop. A weathered one-armed manikin displayed a turquoise polyester pantsuit. Dead flies and lost bumblebees were wedged against the inside glass, never making it to their target, the beautiful bouquet of flowers in the flower box outside.

Kind of like life, thought Mandy. We beat up against the glass so hard to get what we want, when in reality, we walk right by what’s real and don’t even know it. She looked in amazement at the pavement that was covered in bugs. It was eerily like some kind of phenomenon. Where in the world did all of these dead bugs come from, she thought, as she shoved them aside with her foot.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

New Girl In Town - Episode 16

2011-05-28T10:11:00.000-05:00

Mandy Brennan decided to park down the street from the beauty salon so she could walk through town and get a feel for the place. After double-checking to make sure she had locked her car, she looked around and laughed. She had to keep reminding herself, this was not Chicago.

What a quaint little place, she thought. It was like a breath of fresh air after living in the city. White clapboards and dainty flower boxes delighted her weary eyes. The warm wind tousled her hair and brought with it the scent of newly mown grass. The heat of the summer day rose up from the pavement and lazily called to meandering lizards that played tag in the flower boxes. In Chicago, the coldness of the city had entered her bones and she prayed it had not reached her heart. When Matt had first gotten the assignment to Trinity, they both had been a little hesitant about taking it. The history of Trinity was not a good one. She could not figure out how there could be so much turn over of pastors, in one small church.

You had only to look at the enchanting town to wonder what was going on. She could see evil living and taking root in the heart of a city where high risers, like cement Legos, blocked out the sunlight, and the only green anyone ever saw was a taxi streaking by. But here, this was God’s country. The sunlight lit up the town and Mandy couldn’t wait to meet the residents who lived within its gentle rays.

The wind was gusting and tousling her long, honey colored hair. She leaned her head back and loved the feeling as her ponytail tickling her toned shoulders and back. She was thirty-two years old, but most people mistook her for about twenty-five. She never believed the comments they made about her, how gorgeous she was.

Unbeknownst to Mandy, she had drawn the curious eyes of several townspeople, as they enviously watched the young woman enjoying the sun and wind. The heady smell of cinnamon drew her towards Nadine’s Bakery. A hand carved goose squatted outside the door with a cheery sign suspended from its mouth that read, “Welcome, come on in.” Now isn’t that cute Mandy thought? You could never leave something like that outside in the city, it’d be snatched up and sold on the next corner. Yes, she was glad that after much prayer, she and Matt had decided to accept the new position. She needed a new start, and a renewing of her relationship with the Lord. After serving in the church for so long, she discovered she had built a wall of protection around her heart, and here in this place, it was going to come down. She truly loved people, but boy had she become disillusioned about them.

After years of being the target of backbiting Christians she had finally realized that they were like everyone else. Just because they were born again, did not mean their mortality had died. As Mandy pushed open the screen door, a merry tingle delighted her ears and a heavenly aroma rushed up to meet her. Behind the counter stood a plump, elderly woman with her arms plunged into a bowl of dough. Her tiny glasses had slid down the bridge of her narrow nose, and in Mandy’s eyes, she looked like Mrs. Claus, twinkly eyes and all.

“Why how you doing this morning?” Nadine asked, as she blew a wayward strand of gray hair out of her eyes. “I’m Nadine Burke and who might you be? Haven’t seen you in town before.” She hastily grabbed a towel and scrubbed the rubbery flour from her hands.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” said Mandy. “And yes, I’m new to town. My husband Matt Brennan, has just been assigned to Trinity church, and I’m Mandy Brennan. I was walking by and couldn’t resist. That cinnamon smelled so delicious I just had to come in and find the source.” She extended her hand in greeting while taking in the glass cases, mounded high with all kinds of goodies.

“Well I do all my own baking, nothing artificial in here. Fresh every morning, unlike Rosa’s over there at Cornbread Corner,” she said, with a nod of her head towards the door. “She tries to pander those biscuits as homemade, but I can tell you, I’ve seen the wrappers stuck outside her garbage cans, and if they aren’t frozen and baked, I’ll eat my raw dough.”

Stay tuned for the next episode!

More Than Just the Mail-Episode 15

2011-05-22T09:13:00.000-05:00

“You know, I haven’t given it one thought,” said Josey, “but that casserole was a pretty big hit last year. There wasn’t one crumb left in my dish when I picked it up. I guess I’ll make it again. Funny you should mention it though, because I never heard a word from anyone about it, and not the first person asked for the recipe. Who would have ever thought collards and cornbread all mushed up together could taste so good? Course it was probably my secret ingredient that put it over the top. Promise you won’t tell anyone. It’s nutmeg. Yep, nutmeg. I heard on a cooking show that nutmeg tastes good in everything, and darned if they weren’t right.”

Karen knew exactly why there wasn’t one crumb left. She, along with Glenda Jackson, had covertly dumped the whole mess behind the 4-H stall, assured that the stench from the hogs would overpower the rank collards.

Josey was secretly wondering how she was going to handle this new situation. She had Karen sitting in the seat, looking like a drowned red setter and the new pastor’s wife coming in any minute. She furiously began blow-drying Karen’s hair.

Karen pushed her head forward and winced. “What are you doing? Remember, that’s attached to my head.”

“Well honey,” said Josey, “like you said, idle hands are the work of the devil, so I was just practicing what you preached.”

The door opened, and silhouetted by the sun was Van, looking like he had stepped off the cover of her latest romance novel. Josey savored these moments each day. Forgetting about Karen, she clicked the dryer off and fairly bounced over to the counter.

“Now what have you been up to big boy?” she questioned, as she suggestively smoothed her clinging pants over her rump.

“How are you ladies doing today?” he asked, as he handed Josey her mail. Giving a quick wink he turned to go. “Always a pleasure seeing you all getting fixed up. Tootsie, looking pretty as ever,” he said with a nod.

Tootsie blushed, wiggled her toes in the warm water and said, “How are you doing Van? You bringing Josey some more of those contests she enters?”

“One of these days I’m going to be bringing her a winner,” he said.

Josey looked at him adoringly. “You really think so?” she asked.

“Josey, anyone that works as hard as you do at them, can’t help but be a winner,” he said, pulling the door open. Giving a tilt of his head at Karen he said, “And how are you doing Mrs. Foster?” With that, he was gone.

Josey loved to enter contests. She just knew that one day someone from Publishers Clearing House was going to be standing outside her shop with a four-foot check made out to her. She slowly exhaled. “Do you believe that guy? He has a nice word for everyone. Now that’s a real man,” she said as she watched mesmerized, as he made his way down the street.

She hastily finished Karen’s hair, knowing that Mandy Brennan would be coming through the door any second, and there was no way she wanted both women to meet head on. At least not until she had given Mandy a head’s up on Karen. If not, it would be like putting a goldfish in a bowl with a piranha.

“That ought to do you,” she said, as she filled the air with hair spray. Karen shook her head. Like a football helmet, every which way she turned her head, the molded hair went with it. She could not wait to get home to wash the aerosol cap off her head. Giving a nod to Tootsie, she put some bills in Josey’s hand and scrambled for the door. She kept telling herself this was going to be her last visit to the salon, but the drive to Strafford made her tired just thinking about it. Anyhow, who in this old town knew anything about fashion, she thought. “See you ladies in church,” she said.

“Bye bye hon,” said Josey, as she lit a cigarette. “Tootsie, you can quit faking like you were asleep now. I’ve got a few minutes before Mandy comes in. I can’t wait to meet her. Was she really in the Peace Corps like you said, or were you just making that up to get Karen mad?” she questioned.

“What do you think?” asked Tootsie, with a nasty grin. “And no, I did not make it up. Carly Sutton told me all about her.”

“When were you talking to Carly?”

“Last week. I ran into her at Cornbread Corner.”

“Well, I’m going to take a break before she comes in,” said Josey, as she picked up the latest tabloid and began to thumb through it.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Mantra Meddling - Episode 14

2011-05-16T20:21:00.000-05:00

Josey lifted her voice over the hot water as she washed Karen’s hair.

“Well, they do seem to come more frequently after I have had a nice gin and tonic. To relax me, you know. A body can’t receive from the Lord when they are all tangled up in everyday problems, so I like to take the edge off. You can sort of call it communion. I pour a drink, a small one mind you, then I light my candles, put on some soft music and start my mantra.”

“Mantra,” said Karen, as her eyes jerked open.

“What are you talking about? You mean you sing a hymn?” She could just picture Josey waltzing around her mobile home in some lacey get up, her arms outstretched to the heavens and a cigarette dangling out of her mouth.

“You’re not getting into that devil worship stuff are you? That New Age propaganda is going to be the downfall of our society.”

“No,” said Josey, defensively. “I have some favorite words I say over and over again to get the rhythm going. It’s like stirring the pot, getting in the right mood to receive. It kind of goes like this, ‘Hmmmmmmmmmmm, Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, Lord come to me, come to me, come to me.’ Only you keep saying it real fast, over and over again. Then bingo, He comes. That’s how I get my instructions to give to the ladies at the prayer meetings. Most of those women don’t know the first thing about being spiritual. Why, I believe half of them don’t even pray over their meals. Every night I set up my TV tray, turn on Jeopardy, and then pray to the Lord. That’s why I’m hoping I can teach those ladies something.”

Karen made a mental note to talk to Larry about Josey’s dabbling in the occult.

“Oh,” said Josey, “before I forget, I wanted to tell you how much I loved your peach cobbler. Now you have got to give me the recipe. I have never tasted sweeter peaches or a crisper crust. I swear, it was light as air.” Under the din of the television she continued, “But back to Tootsie. I think she’s just a little bit jealous of you.”

“Jealous of me! Why?” questioned Karen, as she glanced at Tootsie’s lulling head.

“Well, truth be told, she has told me time and time again how much she loves the color of your hair. Says she’d give up Snicker bars, if she could get the same look.”

Josey was smooshing Karen, but she considered it part of the business, a moral obligation, to make everyone feel special.

Rising up inside, Karen smirked. “Go on, I don’t believe it. She said that? About my hair? I have noticed her looking it over every time we meet, but I thought she was making fun of it, being so red you know. She really likes it? Wishes she could have the same color? Now, don’t you go giving the formula for my color to anyone, you hear.”

“Oh you can trust me on that,” said Josey, as she silently laughed. “What do you want done today? How about you let me try that Jackie Kennedy flip on you?”

“No,” said Karen, a little too hastily. “My normal shampoo and blow dry will be fine. I don’t have much time today. I still have to get some things for that hurricane out there and start getting prepared for the fall festival. Which reminds me, what are you bringing? And don’t tell me we are going to be gifted with your collard and cornbread casserole again.” Mentally raising a finger to her nose, she remembered the terrible smell of the gooey mess.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Josey Unveiled - Episode 13

2011-05-11T17:31:00.000-05:00

Karen turned in the chair and caught Josey’s eyes in the mirror. Until now, not much has been said about Josey, but Karen’s image of her said it all. Karen almost laughed as she surveyed Josey’s blond, mile-high French twist, stacked atop her 5’7” frame. Of course, spiked heels created three of those inches. Brown eyes were outlined with a thick application of charcoal liner that contrasted sharply with her blond, penciled eyebrows.

Depending on the day, half moons of vivid blue, green or purple eye shadow, sat atop her eyelids. It was almost as if she wanted the viewer to overlook the commonness of her brown eyes and instead, see the color eyes she would have chosen for herself. Few people ever saw deep into those eyes. Like a picture a toddler colors, creatively neglecting the designated lines, her lips were evidence of an erratic scarlet red lipstick pencil gone astray.

Her ear lobes always dangled the most unusual items such as; miniature Eiffel towers, palm trees, hot dogs or four leaf clovers. Her cheekbones had pink, polka dot blush etched onto her coffee-colored leather skin, which was attributed to too many days sitting in the sun, slurping gin and tonics. Still in all, she was an attractive woman, in a bohemian sort of way.

The irritating snapping of her peppermint gum was as grating as her nasal, southern slurred speech. Her clip, clip, clippity way of walking in stilettos, set off a slow, sexual flow from her waist as hot as lava, through her tight Capri pants and all the way down her shapely calves. The eyes of the onlooker were always treated to some outlandish design obtained from Josey’s meticulous pedicures. Today it happened to be Zodiac signs, highlighted with wee sparkle stones.

If you could get her to quit waving those extra long cigarettes around, you would see her slender hands. Like her toes, Josey used her fingernails as a way of expressing herself. Her philosophy was, the Lord painted the sky and made rainbows for one purpose, to instruct women on how to use color and to assure them, the more color the better, as far as He was concerned. The length of her nails unnerved Karen. It got her thinking they could be a real safety issue. After all, how could one clean out their ears, use toilet paper effectively or safely apply feminine products with those talons?

Still, there was something about Josey that Karen related to. They both felt they had something to contribute spiritually into the lives of people. Now that’s not saying they were right on this assumption. In fact, it really was just a nice way of saying they were both very nosey people who liked to live their lives vicariously through other people.

Tootsie turned the footbath on and closed her eyes.

Karen whispered, “Josey, I never have understood your relationship with Tootsie. You both are complete opposites and yet you’ve been best friends since grade school. I know she’s your friend but she just irritates the heck out of me. Did you hear those sly remarks she made about me and Larry?”

Josey laughed as she fiddled with the shampoo dispenser.

“Karen, you two are like mixing a bull dog with a Great Dane. One grabs a hold and won’t let go and the other just bully’s its way in because it’s bigger. Tootsie and I go back a long way, and she’s one of the few women in this town that respects me, unlike the church prayer group. I know the only reason I am leading it, is because Pastor Foster set up that rotation business. Do you think any of those mutton headed women would have elected me as head of the prayer group? Like I don’t know the Bible as well as they do. Hell, I read it every night and sometimes God even gives me dreams and their interpretations, just like Daniel in the Bible.”

“Whoa,” laughed Karen, “are you trying to tell me God speaks to you in dreams? What did He have to say about that hurricane out there? Are we going to get it? And while you are in Never Never Land, does he ever mention my name?”

Josey roughly ran a brush through Karen’s hair. “No He didn’t say anything about that hurricane out there and you can laugh if you want, but how do you think I get all this spiritual insight? How is it I know about everyone’s problems in town?”

By peeping out that picture window that is the size of Texas, and pumping customers for information, that’s how, thought Karen. “Well, do you fast or pray before you get these dreams, these visions?” she asked.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Tootsie Sees Red! - Episode 12

2011-05-07T18:13:00.000-05:00

Running her hand through her bright, carrot-colored hair, she smiled. Her hair had been the only way she could loosen the conventional bonds put on her by the church. It had been like Custard’s Last Stand, but she had stood her ground with Larry. She refused to allow him to dictate what color hair she would, or could have. Her fancy new shoes may be hidden in the closet, but her flaming head of hair, was out there for all to see. Her routine appointment with Josey held her mousy brown hair at bay, and along with it, her timid spirit.

“As a matter of fact, we’re having a meeting tonight,” said Tootsie. “Oh, I forgot, you don’t come to the prayer meetings do you? The church is getting up a welcoming committee for Trinity’s new pastor. I hear he’s a powerful man of God, and his wife’s a tiny little thing who’s actually been in the Peace Corps in Africa.”

Tootsie knew the remark would irritate Karen and make her competitive spirit rise up. She was actually hoping to see Karen’s face flush about the same color as that awful carrot red mess on her head.

That she was not more involved in church matters, had always been a sore spot with Karen, and the congregation. And now here was this big lug of a woman rubbing it in her face. Still smiling, always the lady, Karen slid into the awaiting cracked plastic chair and asked, “Was that you I saw getting out of Hank’s car at the Watering Hole last night? Now don’t tell me you’ve taken to frequenting that dive. It’s not seemly for a Christian woman you know.”

She was forcing Tootsie’s hand. Tootsie would have to admit being at the local bar, and run the risk of being the subject of church gossip. If she said she wasn’t with Hank, it would be proof that Hank was indeed with another woman.

You witch, thought Tootsie. Now how am I going to get out of this one?

Reaching out, she patted Karen on the hand. “Honey, did you happen to see his car on your way out of town? That Strafford mall is something else isn’t it? Can you believe they put in all those expensive, fancy stores? Now who around here can afford anything like that? Most people around here are stretching the budget just to shop at Wal Mart.”

For a long time Tootsie had been suspicious about Karen’s frequent trips out of town but she couldn’t quite put her finger on the problem. Since she had never seen Karen wearing anything worth mentioning, she figured it could not possibly be clothes. Still, something was there. She remembered the time she had bumped into Karen at the mall and her arms were slam full of packages. That in itself did not create suspicion, but the guilty look on Karen’s face had puzzled Tootsie. She kind of looked like her kids had, the day they got caught smoking cigarettes in the back yard.

Karen looked at her watch. “My goodness Tootsie, did you say you had some place to go?”

“Nope,” Tootsie said, as she nestled her plump frame deeper into the chair. Pastor’s wife or not, nobody gets the best of me, she thought.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Closeted Secrets - Episode 11

2011-05-01T08:58:00.000-05:00

Josey scanned her appointment book again and silently cursed. Here it was 1:00 and Karen Foster was due in for a wash and a set at 1:30. Just what she needed she thought, as she stared at her watch. By her calculations, Tootsie should be bursting through the door any second. She had time for another quick smoke. The last thing she needed to hear was Karen harping on and on about second hand smoke. She’d love to blow smoke right up Karen’s snooty nose that was always stuck up in the air.

Tootsie burst through the door and plopped herself down. As she tried to catch her breath, she fanned herself with a sale paper from the Piggly Wiggly.

“You are gonna be the death of me Josey McFarland. Now I’m going to need to cool down before little Miss Foster gets here. I don’t want her seeing me all flustered and sweaty. That’s all the ammunition she would need.”

No sooner had Tootsie spoken the words than the door jerked open and Karen’s shrill voice permeated the air.

“Josey, you’ve still got your closed sign up. There’s no telling how much business you’ve run off. You know what the good Lord says, idle hands are the work of the devil,” she quoted, like a constipated parrot.

It bemused her to see Josey hastily turn the sputtering black and white television’s channel to the Christian network. She had to admit, being the pastor’s wife did have its perks, it brought feelings of power she found she liked.

Karen was the wife of Larry Foster, Carington Height’s pastor and she played the role well. After marrying Larry she had to make several adjustments to her lifestyle, and one was the requirement that she dress the part. Being raised the only daughter of a wealthy man, Karen had never known limitations on spending, and marrying a man of God had not curbed her enthusiasm for buying.

You had only to look into Karen’s closet to see her hidden vice. Shoes lined the walls and bags were scrunched into every corner. The whisper of plastic was heard as you brushed past the rows of dresses, which had never been worn.

She may be the pastor’s wife, required to look the dowdy part, but somewhere along the line she had met resistance in her heart. Just because her husband had heard the voice of God calling him into the ministry, did not mean the Lord had called her too. Like a defiant child, the more she was told, “you can’t wear that,” the more she bought. No, she may never be able to wear it, but by gosh she was going to own it.

She had kept the secret for many years from her husband until one day he decided to paint the house, including her closet. One good thing about Larry was, he wasn’t really interested in anyone but himself. He kept to his part of the house and she, to hers. After all, a man of God had to have a private place where he could hear the voice of God, or so he said. All Karen ever heard booming out of his den, were cheers from the crowds as his favorite football team scored another touchdown.

The day he had walked into her closet was the day he stepped out of her heart. She had to laugh about it though, the expression of pure astonishment on his face as he went through all she had amassed over the years. The only time she could remember him looking more surprised, was when he had prayed for a man’s back to be healed and the man jumped up, totally healed. It had shocked the heck out of Larry.

“Good morning ladies,” she said, nodding her stiff neck, and dusting an imaginary piece of lint off of her navy pinstriped pants. “Tootsie, what have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in church lately. You been feeling okay?”

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Pentecostal Peeping - Episode 10

2011-04-24T09:41:00.000-05:00

The little princess phone danced about, as it’s shrill ring penetrated Josey’s sweet slumber. Fumbling for the phone, she glanced at the clock. Oh my word, she thought, it’s after one o’clock. Once again, her medicinal tonic had done its job, lulling her into a medicated sleep.

“Josey’s Dippity Do, what can I do for you?” she methodically recited. Balancing the phone with her shoulder, she looked in the mirror and wiped the smudge marks under her eyes, gave her hair a pat and lit a cigarette.

“Sure honey, I’ve got an opening at 2:30. Your name? Mandy...Mandy Brennan. Why I’ve been dying to meet you, I understand your husband is the new pastor at Trinity church. You just come on in and I’ll get you all fixed up. No, don’t worry about the late notice, we don’t stand on ceremony here in Carington. Okay hon, see you this afternoon.”

If there had been cream on her lips she would have licked them like a Cheshire cat. Excitement sent Josey scurrying around the shop and Corky scampering about.

“Now Corky, don’t go getting all excited. The last thing I need, is you passing gas in here. Go lay down out of mama’s way while I make a call.” Her fingers rapidly punched out Tootsie’s number. Blowing smoke rings into the air, she impatiently tapped her foot in unison with the whirling fan.

“Come on Tootsie, pick up the phone.”

“Hey Josey, what’s up?” Tootsie wheezed.

“What have you been doing that’s got you so out of breath?” asked Josey.

“You’re not gonna believe this, but I was trying to get into that new pair of jeans I just bought last week. You remember, the cute ones that have those sunflowers on the back pockets. I swear, I have told Harriet, my new cleaning woman, a hundred times not to change the setting on the dryer and she continues to ignore me. She has shrunken every piece of clothing I have.”

Josey took another drag of her cigarette and shook her head. She had seen the amount of food that Tootsie had been packing away, but had chalked it up to Tootsie’s irritation with Hank’s newest fling.

Tootsie scooped the cream out of a golden Twinkie. “What’s up?”

Josey paced the room. “Remember how everyone was talking about the new pastor coming to that Pentecostal palace in town? Well his wife is coming in this afternoon to get her hair done. Lord only knows what she is going to be like. You better be praying for me, you never know what those kind of people can bring in with them. I hope she doesn’t go into those tongues I’ve heard about. If she does, I’m just going to have to tell her, we don’t abide by those kinds of things. I can’t have that devil stuff going on in here. You’ve got to drop by and get a look at her yourself, and don’t tell me you’re too busy. You can give yourself a pedicure. If you’re going to be showing off that new toe ring tonight, you want those toes to look nice don’t you?”

“Calm down Josey, you’re talking so fast I can hardly understand you. And yes, I will stop by,” sighed Tootsie. “I’ll see you right after lunch, but you are going to owe me for this one. Didn’t you say Karen was coming in this afternoon? You know I can’t stand that women,” she whined.

“Tootsie Turrelson, she is the pastor’s wife and you’ve got to make peace with her.”

Like a two year old, Tootsie pouted. “Peace with her? She has never liked me and you know it. I keep waiting for the Lord to grab her up by the scruff of her neck and just shake her until her face turns as red as that mop of hair on her fat head. But I’ll be there because I can’t wait to meet the new pastor’s wife. What did you say her name was?”

“Mandy,” said Josey, rolling her eyes towards heaven. “You’re two seconds away from here, so step on it. Bye.”

Stay tuned for the next episode!

It's a Numbers Game - Episode 9

2011-04-21T19:23:00.000-05:00

To divert Lucille’s attention from Van, Josey began massaging Lucille’s hands.

“Tell me about this new pastor you’re getting. What does this make, your tenth one in six years?”

“What?” questioned Lucille, as she jerked her hand back. “Now you take that back. You know darn well it’s only been three, and if it weren’t for all you Carington Heights' people running them out of town, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”

Josey reached for Lucille’s hand and looked at her handiwork. “What color you want this week? Black, to go on these claws. Now you know there is no truth to that statement you made. What makes you think we had any part in running your pastors off?”

Lucille snickered. “I think that pearly pink would be fine, thank you. And what I mean is, every darn organization in this town is run by members of the Carington Heights congregation, and don’t say it isn’t true. Who runs the school board? Who’s president of the Rotary and the Chamber of Commerce? Now you tell me it isn’t true.”

“Well, it looks to me like if they are running these things, it must be because that’s the way the Lord would have it,” said Josey, with a smug look on her face.

“Did it ever occur to you that it might just be because there are about thirty generations of family here, and when one kicks the bucket, they’ve got twenty relatives waiting in line to take their place? I’d call it a numbers game, and I don’t mean the Book of Numbers either,” snapped Lucille.

This was Lucille and Josey’s usual battle of the words they played. Neither meant each other harm, but they were both very strong willed women, and each believed they were led by the Lord. It just so happened that every time the Lord tried to get them to meet in the middle, they met all right, but they would keep battling until one was down for the count, and today it was Lucille.

“Listen Josey, we are ecstatic about this new pastor, and his wife is supposed to be a little doll. They both served in the Peace Corps and have traveled all over the world. Could you spread the word to everyone to at least give them a chance?”

“A chance? Honey, we’re meeting tonight to pray and find out what the welcoming committee has planned for them. We want to give them a good old-fashioned southern welcome. Here, set those nails under this lamp to dry.”
Stay tuned for the next episode!

Something's Kind of Squirrelly-Episode 8

2011-04-16T10:34:00.000-05:00

“Carly’s teaching that?” asked Josey.

Great, she thought, there’s another one horning in on Van. Josey had a secret crush on him and every time he entered her shop, he made her heart thump all over the place. He was some kind of man, legs built like pillars, face chiseled like an Adonis and the sweetest personality. He had recently moved from the city, and had taken to small town living real quick.

“Just a manicure for you?” Josey asked. Like a surgeon, she skillfully laid out her tools and went to get some water for soaking. While she was gone, Lucille situated herself on the chair and gazed out the window. Van was across the way now, at Bud’s barbershop.

The shop was hushed except for the television that kept blinking in and out of focus. Lucille watched as a weather alert lit up the screen. She couldn’t hear much of anything, but she could see the alarmed look on the weatherman’s face as he excitedly pointed towards the huge green swirling mass that was moving towards land.

“You see that?” she asked, as Josey deftly removed her nail polish and set her hands to soaking.

Josey looked out the window towards Bud’s shop. “I know, that is the strangest thing,” she said, as she watched Van deliver another manila colored package.

“What’s strange?” asked Lucille.

“Once a week, Bud gets a manila package delivered and every time after it’s delivered, quick as a toad snaps up a fly, he puts up the closed sign, and you don’t see hide nor hair of him until about three o’clock. I mean in the middle of the day! He just closes up shop. He only does that when he gets those packages. I’ve been watching him for about six months now and it never changes, just like clock work.”

“I was meaning that hurricane, but now you’ve got me intrigued. What do you think is in the packages?” asked Lucille.

“I don’t know, but years ago Bud used to go home everyday for lunch. Now he stays all by himself in that shop, most of the time with the closed sign up. What’s so funny, is the look on his face, kind of like a little squirrel. He reaches his hand out for the package and then zip, he shuts the door.”

“Maybe I can find out from Van where the packages comes from,” said Lucille with a smile in her eyes, “you know, when we are at exercise class together.”

Visions of Van’s husky frame with sweat dripping off his bulging arms and traveling down his six-pack abdomen, drove Josey into a frenzy. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, as she jabbed Lucille’s cuticle.

Lucille jerked her hand back. “Ouch, watch what you’re doing there.”

Josey said, “I think it’s a legal thing. He can’t talk about people’s mail. Ask your husband about it, since he’s the sheriff. If anyone should know about these things, he would.”

“I might just do that,” said Lucille. “Why do you think Van moved here, of all places?”

Acting like she had been given confidential information straight from the horse’s mouth, Josey bent her head down and whispered, "Well, you know he used to be a stock broker. I think he got tired of the city and wanted a place where he could raise his hawks.”

“Hawks?” exclaimed Lucille. “I didn’t know he raised them. Why in the world is he doing that? A good looking man like that should be roosting with a woman, not a bunch of birds, and he sure won’t find one up to his standards in this town.”

Josey bristled at the remark. “Well there are a few single women still available in this town you know, and if he’s looking for one, my sign says open.”

Josey hunched her shoulders forward a little more to expose her cleavage. In all her thirty-seven years, she still believed the greatest invention to mankind was the push up bra. The older she got, the tighter she hooked them. She figured push it up, poke it out and let the flesh fall where it may, which usually meant, out the top of her v-neck.
Stay tuned for the next episode!

Eye Candy - Episode 7

2011-04-11T19:19:00.000-05:00

Josey glanced at the clock. It was only 10:30, so she had the whole morning free. She looked at her appointment book and realized she had penciled in Lucille Crocker for a manicure.

“Just what I need. Now, she’s going to go on and on about that new pastor they’re getting,” she said to Corky, as she leisurely puffed on her cigarette.

Lucille was a life long member of Trinity church, which was located at the north end of town and in direct opposition to anything and everything Carington Heights church, on the south end of town, believed in. The forefathers of the town must have had a premonition of what was to come when they built the churches directly opposite one another.

She saw Lucille crossing the street, waving at someone. Looking in the direction of Lucille’s elaborate waving she saw Van Sheppard, Carington’s gorgeous mailman.

Looking at Corky, Josey pursed up her lips and squinted her eyes. “Would you just look at her, flirting with Van. She needs to remember she’s got a man at home. I swear, look at the wiggle in that fanny. You’d think she was sixteen years old. I wish Joe would come cruising down the street right about now and arrest her. She’s acting down right indecent, and her being the sheriff’s wife. One of the few single guys in this town and she’s got to get all over him. Joe will be handcuffing me, if he can pry my hands from around her fat turkey goblet neck.”

She hastily pulled away from the window as Lucille walked towards the shop.

Yelling over her shoulder to Van, Lucille entered, along with a hot blast of air. “Hi Josey. That Van gets cuter and cuter every time I see him.” She licked her lips to aggravate Josey. “Have you ever seen him in his workout shorts? To tell you the truth, that’s why I signed up at the gym.”

“How long have you been going there?” asked Josey, as she critically looked Lucille up and down. “Are you going there for weight loss or cardiovascular? Don’t get me wrong, you look great, but I saw you had your exercise bicycle for sale in the Buzz Bee. I was wondering if you had given up on losing weight.”

Josey surveyed Lucille’s dishwater blonde hair that was heavily frosted with gray. Lucille’s merry blue eyes conveyed the joy she felt every time she and Josey sparred with words, and that irritated Josey. It was almost as if she was making fun of or mocking her, and nobody got the best of Josey. Lucille may have put on some pudding around the middle, but her legs could still hold a candle to anyone’s. She worked out regularly and though her upper arms looked like they had goiters hanging from them, and her face was lined and worn, she still conveyed the image of a woman who didn’t know what it meant to grow old.

“Josey, if I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you were trying to hurt my feelings. I put that old contraption up for sale because the scenery is so much better at the gym, if you know what I mean. I haven’t seen you down there. Of course, classes are on Tuesday night and that’s your prayer meeting night, isn’t it? To bad, it really is a good class, except for that Carly, who teaches it. Who can compete with a 26 year old?”

Stay tuned for the next episode!

The Dreaded Prayer List-Episode 6

2011-04-07T19:19:00.000-05:00

“Karen’s doing fine, but I tell you, I think that woman has a big secret. She may be the pastor’s wife, but there’s something wrong with the way she flaunts that wild head of red hair. What do you think?” asked Josey.

Mertis lowered her head to avoid Josey’s eyes. “Well…you know I don’t feel comfortable talking about others.”

Ever since Mertis had taken the job as the church secretary, Josey had been trying to pull information out of her. Josey tried to justify it by saying it was necessary so she could pray for the needs of others, but Mertis knew the Bible had another name for it, gossip.

“I’m not talking about her,” said Josey defensively, as she washed Mertis’s hair. “I’m just saying something isn’t right. For a pastor’s wife, she doesn’t seem too friendly. Have you ever seen her visiting the sick or signing up for any mission trips? No, something isn’t right there. You remember Pastor Manning? Before Pastor Foster came, Pastor Manning’s wife was involved in everything. There wasn’t a day went by she wasn’t calling up someone, carrying over some food, or visiting them.”

Josey pushed the chair upright and Mertis took a minute to right her spinning head. She really needed to see her doctor about the high blood pressure medication she was taking. To avert any more conversation, she rubbed her wrinkled forehead, “Josey, I’ve got the worst headache. Have you got any aspirin?”

Josey wrapped Mertis’s wet hair in a turban, “Sure hon, let me get you some.” She clicked her way to the back of the shop and Mertis prayed that someone- anyone, would drop by, so she wouldn’t have to talk anymore. Josey had a way of spooning information out of a person like she was sitting down to a meal.

“Here you go hon,” said Josey, “and let me massage that scalp of yours for a second. Maybe that will relieve some of the pressure.”

Mertis closed her eyes, tilted her head back and let Josey’s hands do their magic. The quietness of the shop was relaxing, with only the occasional sounds of life going on outside in the small town. After the massage, Josey rubbed some gel into Mertis’s hair and went after it with a hair dryer. The tightly molded hair could resist just about anything when Josey was done with it. For the finishing touch, Josey stuck her finger in her mouth, wrapped Mertis’s short bangs around it, and left a neat little spit curl right in the center of her forehead.

“There you go honey. See if those little curls won’t bring that man home for lunch now.” Josey winked, as if the two of them had a big secret to hide.

“Thanks,” Mertis said, as she nervously fiddled with the handle of her purse. “I’ll see you tonight at the prayer meeting.”

Josey snapped her gum and pointed her finger. “I’ll be there. You know we’ve got a lot of praying to do tonight. There’s a bunch of people that need to come into repentance from the looks of my prayer list, and we’ve also got to pray for that hurricane.”

Stepping out into the fresh air, Mertis breathed a sign of relief. She couldn’t wait to get home, make an egg salad sandwich and crack open her new murder mystery novel.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Fast Cars and Slow Summer Days - Episode 5

2011-03-31T08:00:00.000-05:00

Taking a seat, Mertis’s eyes roamed around the shop. She had been coming to the salon for years and nothing had changed. The phone rang and Josey’s skinny high heels tapped on the yellowed linoleum floor. She covered the phone with her hand, motioned to Mertis and whispered, “It’s Karen Foster, hold on a second.”

“Okay Karen, I’ll see you this afternoon,” she said, disdainfully wrinkling her nose. She hung up and clipped a towel around Mertis’s neck. “Last week at the prayer meeting, did you taste that peach cobbler Karen made? Tasted like toasted cardboard to me.”

Mertis watched as Josey continued to bustle around the shop. She was dressed as usual, stretch Capri pants, three-inch heels, bleached blond hair piled atop her head, red bra strap peeking out of a black, sleeveless v-neck top and her trademark-that incessant snapping of her peppermint gum.

“What we gonna do for you today?” Josey asked, as she twirled Mertis around in the chair. “You ready to try something new? I bet Bud would love to see you all dolled up for once. How about you let me fluff up those curls a bit?”

Mertis shook her head as she thought, If Josey only knew, quite frankly, if anyone really knew. Everyone always saw Bud and her, sitting next to each other in the third pew of Carington Height's church every Sunday morning, and people often commented on their marriage contentment and commitment. Little did they know, it was resentment and resignation that held the two of them together. Bud, excited to see her dolled up? Might as well try and raise the dead, she thought. Thinking of Bud’s infrequent visits to her bedroom and his lack of performance she thought, what a pun on words that was. At that, Mertis smiled.

“What are you smiling about?” asked Josey. “You and Bud got more going on then meets the eye? Who else around here has been married for 36 years, and him still coming home every night? What’s your secret? I swear Mertis, you are gonna have to start opening up more, especially at the prayer meetings. I remember hearing stories about you and Bud being the hottest little items in town. I can’t believe you used to be a cheerleader.” She poked at Mertis’s shoulder and laughed. “Think you can still do the splits?”

Mertis’s mind flowed back in time to the girl she used to remember. Suddenly her mind was filled with colors, laughter, fast cars and slow summer days. Her teenage dreams had lulled her into a fantasy world where every young woman met and fell in love with their prince, snuggled fat babies against their bosoms, and planted red roses along a white picket fence.

This is why she detested coming to Josey’s. Whenever she got around people, it stirred up emotions she had spent years suppressing. At the prayer meetings, she mouthed the prayers, shook her head with the Amen’s and dutifully wrote down prayer requests. But a long time ago, her heart had stopped believing that the Lord had anything for her.

“The splits?” laughed Mertis. “About the widest split I can do anymore, is to climb in and out of the bathtub. Did you say Karen Foster was coming in? How’s she doing lately? Since she rarely comes to the prayer meetings, I never have a chance to talk to her. Sunday mornings I have to high tail it out of church after Bud, so he can be the first in line at the diner for brunch. It’s the fastest I see him move all week.
Stay tuned for the next episode!

Just Another Tuesday - Episode 4

2011-03-30T19:43:00.001-05:00

Josey adjusted the dusty blinds, gave one more look down the street and said, “Bathed in prayer is a phrase I read in a Christian magazine. You know you might get a little spiritual knowledge if you read something other than the TV guide. And no, I don’t have anyone interesting coming in today. It’s going to be another exciting day in Carington. Whoopee! I’ve got Mertis Taylor this morning, Karen Foster after lunch and then who knows. Tuesday’s are always slow for me, but I like it because it gives me time to concentrate on all my prayer requests. You are going to be at the prayer meeting tonight aren’t you? Those women always look at me like I’ve got two heads. They still haven’t gotten over me being made head of the prayer group. Well I say fair is fair, and it was my turn to be the prayer group leader. Besides, it doesn’t take a spiritual giant to lead that pack of hens.”

“Well, I’ll drop by sometime this afternoon for some coffee. When Mertis comes in, see if you can’t get her to try something new. I don’t want her showing up as part of the welcoming committee looking like a drenched poodle. Did you ever see . . . well never mind. Let me go,” Tootsie said, as she blew Josey a kiss.

Josey waved her out the door, snapped her black stretch Capri pants into place, since they had crawled up into spaces they shouldn’t be, and lit a cigarette while she waited on Mertis.

Mertis stood outside of Josey’s shop and proudly adjusted her new lilac-flowered dress that playfully blew in the wind. Across the street was her husband Bud's barbershop. Her tired blue eyes admired the cute blue and white striped pole. The short distance across the street might as well have been miles; it had been so long since she’d had a decent conversation with her husband. She tried to remember when it was, he had taken to having lunch at the shop instead of coming home to her. And his visits to her room at night had ceased so long ago. She didn’t even bother to try and think of why they had stopped, it just didn’t matter anymore.

He had taken up another life and she had taken up crocheting, it was as simple as that. She only had to count the doilies, bedspreads and place mats that adorned every spare surface in her home, to tally up the number of years since their estrangement began. But again, why bother. A gulf had been created that couldn’t be crossed and she found she didn’t have the energy anymore to even try.

She shook her head, brushed her fingers through her tight, gray sausage curls and geared herself up for another morning with “the girls.” Her arthritic knee added a wobble to her walk and her short, chubby frame made it difficult for her to maneuver the curb. Out of breath, she entered the shop. Adjusting the massive blonde French twist that sat upon her head, Josey called out a greeting through a mouthful of bobby pins.

“How you doing honey? Don’t you look pretty with that fancy new dress? Have a seat, I’m just about finished.”

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Bathed In Prayer - Episode 3

2011-03-24T08:00:00.007-05:00

“Hey sweetie,” Tootsie said, as she brushed a kiss on Josey’s cheek. “What’s with all that wind out there and those nasty mayflies? I thought my ear lobes were going to take flight from the weight of these earrings. You like them?” she asked, preening her head from side to side.

“It’s that blasted hurricane. I’m sick of hearing about it,” said Josey, as she shook her head and looked Tootsie up and down. “Honey, I love those earrings, and where did you get that darling outfit? That’s about the cutest thing I have ever seen. Were you out shopping last night without me? Don’t tell me, you lost another pound and went out celebrating, buying yourself some new clothes.”
Tootsie laughed, “New clothes? Honey these old things have been hanging in my closet for years, but thanks for noticing. I have lost a few pounds over the last couple of days. I believe my new diet is working. You know, that one where you have a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar before each meal. I swear I can feel my stomach shrinking up. Lookee’ here, see that toe. Two weeks ago, I couldn’t have put that toe ring on and look at it now. Did you ever see such a cute thing? Watermelon toe rings, who would have thought?”

Josey waited for Tootsie to stop for air before she jumped in. “Vinegar,” she said, wrinkling her nose, “are you telling me you’ve been drinking that stuff? Where did you hear about that one? And don’t tell me Glenda Jackson. That woman has been trying to lose weight for as long as I’ve known her and honey, I’m talking back to the third grade. I just love that nail color on your toes. What’s it called?”

“You are not going to believe this, it’s called Watermelon Pink,” giggled Tootsie. “Speaking of Glenda, have you seen her lately? If anyone could use one of those complete makeovers, it’s her. Nowadays they have plastic surgery for that big nose she has. Or she should at least get those droopy eyes lifted. She looks like Hank’s basset hound. Now, I don’t mean to be ugly you know.”

“Tootsie Turrelson, just listen to yourself,” Josey scolded. “Some people just have to deal with what the good Lord has given them. Course I have to admit, if she’d let me get into that rat’s nest she calls a head of hair, I think I could make her look a whole lot better.”

Tootsie looked into the mirror and tried to capture a wayward eyelash that was stuck to her cheek. "Honey, you been trying to make over that old cow for ages, and don’t go getting all uppity and religious on me. She’s as frumpy as my momma’s old chenille bedspread and you know it. Listen, I just stopped by on my way to the Piggly Wiggly. I’m going to pick up some doughnuts for the church meeting.”

Josey’s penciled eyebrows shot up. “What meeting, and how come I wasn’t invited? You know for me being head of the woman’s prayer group, I sure seem to be left out of the loop a lot. I am in charge of all spiritual matters, so I need to be informed of these things. Doesn’t anyone realize that before any spiritual decisions are made, they need to be bathed in prayer?”

Tootsie patted Josey’s hand and laughed. “Bathed in prayer? Is that kind of like washing your mouth out with soap? Are we now washing our prayers off to make sure they are squeaky clean and holy? And don’t go getting into a tizzy about the meeting, remember I’m on the welcoming committee. We are going to discuss how to handle Trinity’s new pastor. You have anyone interesting coming in today?” she asked, as she thumbed through Josey’s appointment book.
Stay tuned for the next episode!

Josey's Morning Irritations - Episode 2

2011-03-22T08:00:00.006-05:00

The enormous picture window was Josey’s binoculars into the town. She would peek through the mini-blinds during her lunch hour and watch everyone scurrying around. Little did they know that Josey was memorizing every detail of their clothing, right down to the worn soles on their shoes. Shopping bags were scrutinized for their contents and possible store origination. This way, she had a handle on the financial expenditures and buying habits of her clients. She felt this was warranted, in case they might need to be directed to put a little more into the offering plate on Sunday.

Josey had elevated herself up from just a mere beauty consultant because she felt she had gained wisdom in about every area of life there was. She had advice on child rearing, marriage, cooking, domestic bliss and every other situation she could get her two cents in. Of course she had no experience herself, but what difference did that make? Wasn’t she head of the Carington Heights prayer group? She checked her appointments for the day and a reflection bounced off the walls, drawing her attention to the window.

“Dang,” she mumbled. “What is Tootsie doing here so early? I swear, she must get out of bed with the chickens or hens, or whatever it is that does that squawking.” Nothing irritated Josey more than someone popping in before she had poured her morning toddy, which she kept stashed in an old hat box in the back room.

Now let me give you a little info on Tootsie. She is Carington’s town crier. Her 240-pound frame poured out rumors as liberally as Josey partook of her daily medicinal toddy. Trudy Turrelson, better known as Tootsie to her closest friends, had gone and married the richest man in town. Her battle with the bulge had been left behind years ago, when she found her darling husband Hank, cuddled up in the front seat of his canary yellow Cadillac with a buxom Dolly Pardon wanna be. Her oldest and dearest friend in the world was Josey and God help the person who dared to speak one word against her. Tootsie’s abundant cash flow into the town kept the tongues on guard and their lips sealed, at least from her ears.

Her huge bulk was always adorned in a theme mode. Some days it was sunflowers, sometimes kittens, and once in a while the American flag, but today it was watermelons. Like a covert spy, Josey watched, bemused, as Tootsie rummaged through her purse for her lipstick. Pink of course, to match the watermelons on her top and pants. A connoisseur of jewelry, she had tiny watermelons dangling from her meaty earlobes and a watermelon clip had her blond hair gathered at her crown, giving her the appearance of a rooster. That was the bird Josey was trying to think of earlier, a rooster.

Josey sighed as Tootsie went through the grueling ritual of evicting herself from the car. She scooted her thick frame out the door and that was when Josey saw her watermelon shaped straw purse. Her eyes traveled down to Tootsie’s watermelon shod feet. Good Lord, she thought, how in the world does she get all that stuff to match?

Tootsie slammed the car door, pulled down her top, which had crept up over her ample bosom, and made her way to the shop. One turn of the crocheted doorknob and she ambled in.
Stay tuned for the next episode!

Grandma's Warning

2011-03-20T14:55:00.000-05:00

“Folks, I’m telling you, this is a bad one,” said the radio announcer, an urgency in his voice. “I know you all have been through a lot of false alarms over the last couple of years, but this is not the time to get complacent. Set in motion your emergency plan and if you don’t have one, you’ve still got time to get one together. Hurricane Charlotte is rapidly increasing her speed and is headed . . .”

Josey turned the radio off as her cherry red mustang chugged into the parking lot. “I am so tired of hearing about Hurricane Charlotte. This town sits in the middle of a cow pasture and if Miss Charlotte can find her way here, more power to her,” she said sarcastically, as she grabbed her purse and made her way to the shop.

“Ohhhhhhhhh drat" she whispered, as her red painted talons worked frantically to shut off the burglar alarm. Her blonde French twist operated like a sail on a ship, as the wind buffeted her. “Good Lord where did all of this wind come from? And all that time I spent this morning getting my hair just right.”

Setting down Corky, her highly flatulent poodle, she finally found the magical combination, of which she could never remember and the air became still. It was then she heard the crunching sound beneath her heels. She cringed as she looked down and saw the entire sidewalk covered with dead mayflies. They were everywhere! The blind mayflies had beaten themselves to death after flocking to the heat of her security nightlight.

For a split second she remembered her grandma, and the story she had told Josey about the devastating hurricane that had hit the small town many years ago. Grandma had talked about the mayflies arriving days before the storm hit and how they had blanketed everything. Patio furniture, sidewalks, roads and lawns were coated with the eerie bugs. Goosebumps rose up on her tanned arms as she tried to shield her French twist from the grasping wind gusts. She shook off the memory and grandma’s voice faded into the distance.

Josey looked around and sure enough there was Bud Taylor, the only barber in town, glaring at her from behind his blue neon sign in the window. The flapping awning over his shop window was about to turn inside out and she could only hope it would come toppling down on his bald head. She knew her alarm situation would be discussed later that day at the resident grease pit, Cornbread Corner, which masqueraded as a restaurant. Bud would go on and on about how once again she had set off the alarm, and he would probably try and attribute it to what he called, her “drinking problem.”

She flicked on the lights and the room became awash in pink. Josey loved the feeling of home she got every time she looked around her shop. In twelve years, nothing had changed and that’s the way she liked it. Growing up, she had enough changes to last her through menopause. The pink walls held faded, black velvet pictures of Elvis, paper-mache flamingos perched on rusty curtain rods, the orange lava lamp rotated its red blob back and forth, and the mirrors were adorned with every naked baby’s butt in Carington. The pungent smell of permanent solution mixed with stale cigarette butts assaulted her nose, reminding Josey she needed to make a stop at Wal Mart for another air freshener. She just loved the orange blossom one.

Stay tuned for the next episode!