Authors: Brenda Bevan Remmes
“Everything on schedule?” Billie asked.
“It’s been a tough morning,” Liz sighed as she opened the trunk and began to pull out streamers and crepe paper. “We started out the day with a death in the laundry room. Jitters got washed and dried overnight.”
“Oh my God,” Billie said
. “Are the kids okay?”
“Evan’s pretty upset
. Chase took him down to find a burial box at the pharmacy. He’ll probably be carting the corpse when he comes.”
“Who else is coming?”
“Well, I know the twins plan to be here with their two beagles. Their mom is working on a crafts booth behind the school, though, so she can’t ride with us. Chase’s sister, Sophie, is here from Charleston, and her two children will ride the float. They’re bringing their old Bassett Hound, Hubert. The Jones’s three girls will be here with their cats and two rabbits and then my two boys and their dogs. That’s nine kids, nine animals, one dead hamster, and you and me.”
“Where’s Maggie?”
“Lord knows. I tried to get in touch with her last week. She’s been in Raleigh dealing with legal stuff. Don’t know if she’s got a case going over there or what. You know Maggie. She’s shut down temporarily.”
As they worked to arrange the bales of hay Henry had put on the float, Billie made idle chatter. “I’m free next weekend to do some shopping with you. You really need to take this mother-of-the-groom dress seriously
. Time is running out.”
“Can’t possibly do it next week, Billie,” Liz said
. “I’ve got to get my guest list together with addresses for Lexa’s mom, and figure out the rehearsal dinner. Let’s wait a few months.
“Months?” Billie gasped
. “Mark my words; you’re going to regret that.”
Within an hour the float looked reasonable, not spectacular; but after all, it was a Quaker float. No need to get too carried away.
“My God, Billie,” Liz said in self-admiration when the electrical cords for the boom box and bubble machine were all plugged in and tested
. “Look at what we’ve done. We’re technological giants. All we need is the banner that Sophie promised to bring—and of course the children.”
As if on cue, Chase pulled up. The boys and the two collies climbed out of the back seat. Evan clutched a small silver box filled with cotton and Jitters.
“Oh, honey,” Billie said, “What a lovely box. Jitters looks
so
peaceful.”
“He’s dead. Daddy drowned him in the washing machine.”
A painful look crossed Chase’s face, but he said nothing.
Liz changed the topic. “How was the Easter egg hunt?”
“There were a lot of kids from out-of-town,” Nicholas said with obvious disdain for the intruders
. Evan held up a basket with eight plastic eggs and a giant bunny lollipop.
Chase lifted Evan up onto the flatbed with his small box in tow and the seven-year-old surveyed his options before taking a seat on the hay bale closest to the bubble machine. Other cars of kids fresh from the festivities turned quickly into the Armory driveway as children scrambled onto their designated floats.
Chase’s sister, Sophie, arrived with seven-year-old Estelle dressed appropriately in a traditional Quaker ensemble: a black dress and bonnet. Five-year-old Stin had on black pants, a white collarless shirt and a black wide brim Quaker hat.
“Oh my golly, they’re cute. Where did you ever find those outfits?” Liz cooed, and tried to avoid the thought of her boys’ jeans and sweatshirts.
“Made them,” Sophie beamed. “I thought they turned out well.”
Chase gave his sister a peck on the cheek and lifted his nephew and niece onto the float. “How’s the house coming?” he asked.
“A disaster, as one would expect,” she said
. She and her husband had taken on the restoration of an old house in the historic district of Charleston following Hurricane Hugo three years earlier in 1989. “It’ll take us years.”
Chase helped his sister to dislodge their Basset Hound from the car
. “I promised Mom I’d get her baked goods down to the school,” Sophie said.
“Sophie, the banner—did you bring it?” Liz called out before Sophie could start her engine.
“Oh yes
, silly me, almost forgot.” She went around the car and pulled out a tube that contained two beautiful banners:
Cedar Branch Quaker Meeting.
They were masterpieces. Sophie had done it again. There was a reason she taught art. Somehow she could manage a family and a job and still cook, sew and do crafts. Liz was no match.
Billie and Liz whipped out the two staple guns and began to affix the signs to each side of the flatbed. At the same time Chase was trying to lift eighty-five pounds of Hubert into the air.
“Come on, ole boy. Help me out here,” he grunted with each effort to get the hound off the ground. Hubert’s large droopy eyes gazed upward with a total lack of interest. There appeared to be no bone mass. When hoisted around the middle, Hubert simply collapsed like an army duffle bag of wet clothes. His ears brushed the ground and Chase moved to the rear in a second effort to gain altitude.
Liz finally put down her staple gun and went to help Chase heave the dog onto the flatbed, where Hubert collapsed with a thud next to Evan and the bubble machine. The children let out a triumphant cheer.
The three Jones girls and the twins arrived with two cats and two rabbits in a cage. The twins had their beagles. Their parents dropped them off, waved, and were gone.
The floats at the front began to move. Henry came wheeling into the lot and greeted everyone with hellos. “Not too late, am I?” He surveyed the mélange of animals and children and gave one of his famous broad grins that stretched across his weathered face. “Whoa,” he said as he started to climb into the cab and saw Billie’s hat. “Some Quaker bonnet you got here.”
“Henry, don’t turn on the boom box until we get onto Main Street,” Billi
e said as she retrieved her hat from the cab of the truck. She added, “But then crank it up, as high as it will go.”
“You got it,” he beamed
. “This is a Quaker float to beat all.” With that the float began to inch forward.
From the get-go the rabbits were none too pleased with the presence of the dogs
. “Estelle, honey,” Liz said. “Why don’t you go sit up with the other girls and talk to the rabbits to calm them down.” Estelle inched her way across the flatbed, took a tumble as the truck jerked a bit, and came up with her dress covered in straw.
“Auntie Liz,” she sniffled, “my dress.”
“There, there,” Liz caught her balance and put her arm around Estelle. “Nothing to worry about, we’ll just pick it off. Little Quaker girls used to roll in the hay all the time,” she tried to assure her.
When B
illie chuckled, Liz silenced her with a look.
“There’s a place on the end
. Sit there, so you can show off that pretty Quaker outfit,” Liz suggested to Estelle.
Everyone rearranged themselves to accommodate Estelle
. The twins looked a bit annoyed that they were now stuck with a bunch of girls. One of them shifted to the middle bench, which started another round of musical chairs as the animals rearranged themselves according to positions of their owners.
Without warning the cats arched their backs and began to hiss at Webster
. Webster responded with a round of barks. Billie, who needed ample room to accommodate her hat, tried to hush him. Webster looked nervous and fidgeted in his little skirt. Evan cradled Jitters, describing to him all that was happening as if he were listening intently.
As the float approached Main Street,
Stin inched his way over to where Liz sat and whispered, “Auntie Liz, I have to pee.”
“Oh, darling,” Liz grimaced, “just hold it
. This isn’t a long parade. It’ll be over in ten minutes. Can you hold it for ten minutes?”
“I don’t know, Auntie Liz
. I don’t think so.”
“Let’s you and I think light thoughts together,” she cajoled him
. “I’ll switch on the bubble machine.” The effect was electrifying. ”Look at all of those bubbles, Stin. See how light they feel, floating up into the air. It makes you want to float away with them, too, doesn’t it?”
The kids’ total attention was now focused on the massive amount of bubbles flowing out across the street and into the yards behind the float
. It was even better than Liz had imagined. The wind was just right; there wasn’t any humidity to force the bubbles to the ground. They took off and danced through the air, reflecting the sunshine with a waterfall of colors.
Squeals and giggles erupted along the parade route as children pointed at the bubbles and jumped up and down in an effort to pop them
. Liz looked back at Billie and gave a thumb-up.
As the float approached the turn onto Main Street, Henry turned on the boom box and switched the speakers up as high as they would go.
Great
, Liz thought. Despite the sound of the band in front of them, the music was audible above the rest of the street noise. Everyone could clearly hear the “Critters” song.
The flatbed stopped and then jerked forward as Henry made a sharp right hand turn
. Liz’s eyes focused on the bubble machine to make sure it didn’t slip, and then glanced over at Evan to see that he still had a firm grasp on Jitter’s box. He did. From that point on chaos ensued.
The rabbit cage shifted and tumbled off the hay bale
. Estelle, let out a shriek. Lady and Jasper and the two beagles immediately rose and rushed to get to the other side of the float.
“Grab the dogs, Nicholas,” Liz shouted
.
Nicholas seemed confused
. Something else had caught his attention and he stared at the back of the float. Liz feared they might have lost the bubble machine.
She tried to get to the other end of the flatbed near the cab in order to help with the rabbits. With one swoop she grabbed the rabbit’s cage and lifted it up above the dogs. Billie soothed Webster, who whimpered and shivered.
Liz gave the cage to the girls and grabbed the leashes of the two beagles to pull them back to the other end of the truck
. She noticed Hubert get up and shift his weight so that he was practically on top of the bubble machine.
Out of the corner of her eye, Liz saw Evan near one of the hay bales next to the cab trying to help
Stin get his pants down so he could pee. He had left Jitters in the box sitting precariously on the bench. When one of the cats spied the unprotected hamster, in one long leap she knocked the box into the straw, grabbed the rodent, and shook it two or three times by the neck.
Liz’s heart jumped into her throat
. She looked over at Evan. He had been momentarily distracted by his cousin’s predicament.
One of the girls squealed and jumped to the other side of the hay bale
. Liz grabbed the cat by the nape of the neck to make her release the gnawed body of Jitters, and as fast as possible stuffed the pet into the pocket of her fleece. She gave a silent prayer that Evan had not witnessed any of her antics.
“Mom,” Nick called over all the commotion
. “Mom, look,” he said, pointing behind the float.
Fearing that perhaps the bubble machine had taken a plunge, Liz looked up and gasped
. It had not been there in the line-up. It had not even been on the list of floats; but there it was. On another float directly behind them with a twenty foot cross, with a live man positioned on a thin ledge midway up, replicating an image of the crucifixion. Above the cross a large banner read,
The Holy Church of Everlasting Redemption knows the TRUE meaning of Easter. DO YOU?
The bubbles poured out and danced around
the Christ figure. Meanwhile the boom box blared: “
All God’s critters got a place in the choir,”
Liz turned to Billie, who was wide-eyed. “Turn off the bubble machine. Turn it off,” she motioned. Liz moved over to where Hubert had planted himself, with his backside up against the switch on the machine.
“Hubert, MOVE,” Liz ordered. She tried to push down between his rear end and the machine, but he only pressed harder against her hand.
“Tell Henry to turn off the generator,” Liz yelled at Billie.
“What?” She yelled back.
“The GENERATOR! Tell Henry to cut it off.” Liz motioned by slicing her index finger across her throat several times. “The generator,” she yelled.
Billie eased herself up to the cab and braced herself as she tried to make herself heard. “Henry,” she yelled. “TURN OFF THE GENERATOR!”