Authors: Shelley Noble
I
t was already hot when Abbie walked to the center the next morning. She’d left early to avoid any confrontation with Millie. She still didn’t feel right about what had happened. But it was something the Crispins would either settle among themselves, or let slide and slip back into the way things had always been.
The sight of the newly painted carousel made her forget fights and misunderstanding and everything else except how wonderful it looked, sparkling white in the sun. The lattice was gone and removable storm windows had taken its place. A tricolored ball was perched atop the cupola, supported by a new green roof.
The painters had moved on to the community center, which she was sure was Cab’s doing. The front façade was finished, and a man was painting the door the bright blue that the area favored.
“Keeps evil away and prosperity inside,” Sarah said. “Wish it could do something about the heat.”
“I told you I’d get us an air conditioner.”
“I’m tempted, but we’d blow a fuse. Maybe we could run a power cord over to the carousel and pirate some of Cab’s electricity. I bet he has plenty. Speaking of which, I heard rumors that he has some big secret exhibition opening the same week as the carousel.”
Abbie grinned. “So I hear.”
“I also heard he and Dom Gaillard were seen driving in Dom’s van up to Crispin House.”
“Yep.”
“l also heard that Miss Millie threw a fit on account of it.”
“She did that, too. Blamed me. Told me to leave.”
“Sounds like Millie all right. Is she over it?”
“I haven’t seen her since. Marnie and Beau say she’ll forget all about it.”
“Too bad. I’m sure Cab was looking for an excuse to have you move in with him.”
“Sarah, we are so not there yet.”
“Can’t blame me for that.” She stopped. The screen door banged, followed by footsteps. “They’re already here. We should charge admission.”
There was a pretty good crowd. The mothers, aunts, and grandmothers carried what looked like a bakery’s worth of food back to the kitchen. Sarah rounded up the teenagers and took them to the tutoring station.
Abbie sent the rest of the kids to the media room and was about to follow them when Momo, accompanied by Kyle and Jenny, came in. Momo was dressed in a suit and two-inch heels. “Found him walking along the road to town. I told his mama I’d bring him when I brought Jenny, but I guess he couldn’t wait to get here.”
“You look great,” Abbie told her.
“I got a meetin’ I have to go to. Come on back to the kitchen for a minute.”
Abbie followed her down the hall, to where the ladies were already setting up a feast.
“Would you look at Momo,” Ivy said. “You got your days mixed up. Yesterday was Sunday.”
“I know what day it is, Ivy Lee, because on Sunday I was in church.”
“Amen.”
“Amen.”
“That’s where I saw Mr. Robert Oakley. I told him what we had in mind, and he told me to come see him this morning. Turns out the town bought back several parcels down here to keep ’em from going piecemeal to developers. Owns the land the arcade sits on, too. They’ve been trying to get some interested party to set up a business. I’m on my way over there now.”
“Girl, where are we gonna get the money to rent a store?”
“I’ll put in my laundry money,” Rayleen said.
“Rayleen, you fool. That wouldn’t buy you a crayfish sandwich.” Ivy looked disgusted.
“I got some savings,” Momo said. “It’s not much, but I figure if we can give him some good faith money, maybe I can get the board to take a percentage of the profits as payment.”
“Why would they do that?”
Rayleen fisted her hands on her hips and scowled at Ivy. “Because it’s better than having some sorry ass tear-down sittin’ in the middle of a town that’s tryin’ to make itself better and get us some tourist dollars.”
“Oh, hell,” said Ivy. “If you can get them to go for that, I’ll bring you some of my dolls to sell.”
“Well, ain’t you the philanthropist,” Rayleen countered.
“Thank you,” Momo said. “Now I gotta go or I’ll be late. Wish me luck.”
They all did, including Ivy who added, “She’ll need it.”
She was gone for nearly three hours.
W
e got the building!” Momo screeched as she burst into the kitchen. “I signed a lease on that place next to Hadley’s.”
Cheers went around the room.
Momo jingled a set of keys. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go see what needs to be done.”
“That’s right.”
“Get off your butt, and let’s go.”
“Wait a minute. It takes more than a building to have a store, a building that needs a heck of a lot of work put into it. And then we have to get stuff to sell, then we gotta get people to sell the things, and how are we gonna do all this?” asked Ivy.
“We’re gonna form us a committee,” Momo said. “We’re gonna call it the Stargazey Restoration Project. And you’re gonna be the chairman.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. But first . . .” Momo went to the back door, stuck her head out. “Men, when you finish up on the community center, just come on over and paint the new Stargazey co-op.”
“Where the hell’s that?” came the reply.
“We’ll show you.”
They marched out en masse. Abbie snagged a piece of gingerbread and followed them out to the porch to watch.
And that’s where Sarah found her a few minutes later.
“Come on back. I gotta get some ice water.” Sarah got her water and sat down, fanning herself with a paper plate.
Abbie told her about the lease for the co-op.
“Whew. I wondered what the hell was going on. You’ve created a monster.”
“Me? Oh, no.
We
.”
“Suit yourself. Damn, it’s hot.”
Within an hour the women were back and the center was buzzing with noise, excitement, and more than a few mosquitoes. Ivy, now that she’d come on board, was the perfect leader, dividing the women into subcommittees and sending one group off to gather cleaning supplies, others to canvass their friends and neighbors for possible inventory, and setting the rest to help with lunch.
The twins were late and Abbie was beginning to worry about them when they appeared, dragging Ervina between them. Ervina was dressed in a long robe and wore a turban on her head.
“Ervina’s ready for her inner-view,” Joe said. His excitement was palpable. “You gonna sit over here. In this chair.” He pulled Ervina over to the chair and turned back to Abbie. “Ervina remembers all ’bout that merry-go-round. She’s gonna tell us for the doc’mentry.”
“Excellent,” Abbie said. “I’ll get the camera.”
She passed Sarah who was staring unabashedly at her great-grandmother. “Oh, Lord, has the circus come to town?” she asked under her breath.
“You watch your mouth, Miss Know-It-All. You settin’ an example for these children.”
“Uh-huh,” Sarah said and went back to the porch where the summer school math tutorials were taking place.
“Ervina remembers the carousel,” Dani said. “She telled it to us, but I didn’t know how to write all the words, so she says she’ll tell you for the movie.”
Joe had settled Ervina in the chair, and she sat upright like an exotic, colorful bird. Or an African chieftain. The woman knew how to put on a show. But Abbie was beginning to think it wasn’t just a show. Ervina had the habit of nailing things too often to be a sham.
“You have your questions for Ervina?”
“Yes’m, Jerome wrote ’em for us.”
“Okay, who’s going to film and who’s going to ask the questions?”
“I’m gonna be the cameraman,” Joe said.
“ ’Cause I read better,” Dani said.
“Nuh-uh,” Joe said.
Abbie stepped in before things spiraled out of control, though she was glad to see them arguing rather than smacking each other in the head. Progress.
“Okay, Dani, you stand just there.” She hoisted Joe onto the chair so he could run the camera. A crowd formed behind them and no one—kids, teenagers, mothers, grandmothers, aunts, Sarah—made a sound.
Ervina looked into the camera as if she’d done dozens of interviews.
Joe pressed play; Dani frowned at the paper and asked, “What chore name?”
Ervina sat even straighter. “My name is Ervina Eugenia Maxwell.”
“Whose mama are you?”
Ervina pursed her lips. “I had me a son. He was killed in the war, but he left me a granddaughter. Her name was Sarah. And she had a daughter and she named her Sarah. And we had Sarahs livin’ in this town ever since.”
Behind Abbie, Sarah groaned and left the room.
“What’chu remember ’bout that carousel?”
“Oh, that carousel. I remember when I was a girl, the town was somethin’ in those days, filled all summer with fancy people from Charleston and Columbia and even farther away. They brought their chil’run to the beach, stayed in the hotel before it burned to the ground. They’d stay all summer, some of them. That carousel music filled the air from morning to night. There’d be dancin’ at the end of the pier, and if you sat out on the beach, you could hear a little bit of both.
“But if the man who ran the carousel ever caught one of us trying to sneak a ride, he’d pull us off that thing and throw us out to the ground. None of us ever had no money.
“Then Ned grew up and moved away. Never thought we’d see him again, but one day he comes drivin’ into town in a big old black Mercury. He goes up to that feller, Clayton, I think his name was, and says, ‘I want to buy your carousel.’ We’d had us a couple a bad storms and that old man sold it to Ned that very day.
“From then on everybody could ride the carousel. Rich or poor. No matter what color. Those were good and bad days. Changing days. Then the hotel burned down, and they started buildin’ these big old hotels up the way, and those big fun parks. Stargazey just got left behind.” She chuckled. “And some of us got old. Ned got old. Now we got young Cab fixing it up again. We got a place for the children to come where it’s safe and they can learn how to go on in this life. We gonna have us a new store.”
“Praise the Lord,” someone said.
“Amen.”
Ervina held up her hand, a benediction, and looked at Dani. “We take care of our own. We take care of each other. We welcome strangers.” She looked at Abbie. “If they don’t wanna build no golf course.”
They were surrounded by laughter, which somehow made Abbie want to cry.
“Now I got me two new children and that’s all I got to say.” Dani threw her arms around Ervina before she could get up from the chair. Joe slid off the chair and hurled himself at her.
Abbie took over the camera. This was a scene not to be missed.
“And we never leaving Momma Ervina,” Dani said.
“And if uncle or the services try to take us, Jerome gonna shoot him.”
Abbie stopped the camera.
“Lord, child,” Ervina said, placing him on her knee where he could see her face. “Remember this. Nobody is gonna do no shootin’.”
“Uh-huh,” Dani said. “Uncle—he shoots people.”
Ervina hugged them both close. “Lucky for people he cain’t hit a barn. You got no cause to worry, now you go on and help Miss Abbie with her board thing.”
The crowd dispersed, and conversation broke out where it had left off. Abbie seemed to be the only one disconcerted by the talk of shooting.
“Down here it’s not always easy to be a pacifist,” Sarah said. “I’m going back to the kitchen to get these ladies to start making some lunch.”
Ervina scooted the twins away and waited for everyone else to leave before she stood.
“Thank you so much for coming in to do that,” Abbie said. “It means a lot to the twins.”
“I have somethin’ to say to you.”
“Okay,” Abbie said, taken aback.
“I came here and talked nonsense. Now you gonna do something for me.”
Abbie smiled inwardly. Like great-grandmother like great-granddaughter. Sarah and Ervina didn’t mind a spot of tit for tat.
“You came here lookin’ for somethin’.”
“I came here on vacation.”
“Uh-huh. You came here lookin’ for somethin’ and you found it. You got these children trustin’ you. You got a responsibility now.”
Abbie shook her head. “I’m sorry?”
“You can’t take those children out of Egypt and leave ’em alone in the desert.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t be dense. You know what I’m sayin’.”
“I don’t.”
“Then I’m gonna tell you.” She moved in close, drawing Abbie toward her. “It’s too late to help those dead babies where you were before. It’s time to start helpin’ the ones who can still be helped.”
She walked slowly toward the door, stopped when she reached it. “And don’t you worry none about Miss Millie. She’ll come around.”
“And you can bet the ranch on that,” Sarah said under her breath.
Ervina shook her finger at her great-grandaughter, and then in typical Ervina fashion, she was gone.
Her words, however, lingered all the way into the afternoon when they were distracted by the sound of a big truck, stopping out front. Everyone rushed to the window.
The back tailgate was open, and several men were unloading huge wooden crates. Everyone converged on the porch, and it took Abbie and Sarah both to keep them from running to get a closer look.
“Someone go get the camera,” Abbie said, grabbing Pauli as he tried to sneak down the steps. “I bet if we all stay right here and out of the way, we’ll get a peek at what’s inside once they’ve finished unloading.”
They watched and filmed for the next hour. Then as the truck drove away, Cab came to the door of the carousel and yelled, “Who wants to see what just came?”
There was no holding them back now. They broke for the carousel, and Abbie, camera in hand, and Sarah ran behind them.
Rows of wooden crates stood end to end in the octagonal room. Several men stood ready with crowbars to open the nearest one. Otis and Jerome and two other men were standing by a ladder and a cherry picker.
“Now listen up,” Cab said. “You have to stay behind this line.” He made an imaginary line with his foot. “I don’t want anybody getting hurt. Got it?”
Everyone nodded.
“I mean it, because this lady could squash you like a bug.”