Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind by Ann B. Ross

Author:Ann B. Ross
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1997-07-04T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LILLIAN AND I doctored on Hazel Marie for some time when I got home with the medical supplies. I kept hoping she’d drop off to sleep, but every time her eyes began to close she’d think of Little Lloyd and start crying again. And every time I turned around Lillian was handing her another drink. If it wasn’t ginger ale, it was a milk shake or a glass of lemonade, saying she had to have something on her stomach. It’s a wonder she didn’t begin to float. After a while, she ate a slice of dry toast and kept it down, which relieved me considerably.

She kept wanting to get up and look for the boy, but we convinced her that the best thing she could do was stay in bed until we knew where to look.

I volunteered to call all her relatives down in Benson’s Gap, and we decided that I’d pretend to be somebody wanting Brother Vern for a preaching service and not mention Little Lloyd at all.

“That’s the best way to do it,” I said. “We don’t know how many others are in this with him, but I’ll bet that wherever the Reverend Vernon Puckett is, the boy is, too.”

“He may have him hid somewheres,” Lillian said.

“Don’t create problems,” I told her. “Besides, if I find Brother Puckett, you better believe I’ll find Little Lloyd. I’ll have that man in jail so fast his head’ll swim. The idea of lying to me to get that child. To say nothing of ransacking my house. I tell you, he’ll think twice about messing with me again.”

Hazel Marie slept most of the afternoon, except for the times Lillian woke her with another glass of something to drink. During that time, I spoke to more Pucketts than I’d ever known existed. At first it was hard to do, unaccustomed as I am to lying. But after a while, I about convinced myself that the little church I’d made up really needed Brother Vern’s ministry. Most of the people I spoke to had that local mountain twang, and I found myself following along.

“I’m alookin’ for Brother Vernon Puckett,” I’d say. “They’s a need for his preachin’ in our church, ’cause it’s about to split in two, and we need a revival real bad.”

That certainly got more cooperation than when I said something like, “I wonder if you could tell me, please, where I might find the Reverend Puckett.”

But none of them knew where he was. Or if they did, they weren’t telling.

After that disappointment, I had another idea. It was Tuesday, and Brother Vern’s telecast was supposed to run at nine o’clock that night. Unless he canceled out and ran a substitute in, we’d know he was in Spartanburg for at least an hour.

When I told Hazel Marie what I’d come up with, she wanted to head down the mountain right then and wait for him to get to the studio.

“No,” I said. “If he sees you before he starts his program, he’ll just drive off.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.