The Flying Cutterbucks by Kathleen M Rodgers

Author:Kathleen M Rodgers [Rodgers, Kathleen M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948018784
Publisher: Wyatt-MacKenzie Publishing
Published: 2020-06-01T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

News from the Turquoise Phone

HECTOR WASN’T back from lunch when Trudy pulled the Camaro beside the minivan under the carport and cut the engine. It was nice to park in that spot again after she’d tossed old bicycles with flat tires and boxes of junk that had sat there for years, some of it left over from her mother’s cleaning business. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she unfolded herself from the car, grabbed the bags from the trunk, and hurried toward the side door. She was anxious to tell her mother about the swastikas at Gold’s Department Store.

Inserting the key, she nudged the door with one foot and pushed it open with her hip. As she went to lug in the groceries, she called out, “Momma, you won’t believe…” Halfway through the door, she froze. White dust had settled on every surface she’d spent weeks cleaning.

Her mother leaned against the wall next to the red desk, the elongated telephone cord wrapped around her frail form like a cocoon, as if she’d stood in place after answering the house phone and turned herself around and around like a jewelry box ballerina. Her head bent at an odd angle, she held the receiver against her right ear and nodded to someone on the other end as if the caller could see her. Her purple knit cap puddled at her feet where she’d flung it off at some point.

Jewel’s eyes were wild and huge as she signaled for Trudy to come closer. Trudy shoved the bags onto the counter and dropped her purse and rushed over. Bending to retrieve her mother’s knit cap, she shook the dust off and noticed Stranger to the Ground splayed open face down on the desk, now layered in a chalky film.

“Who is it?” she mouthed, fidgeting with the cap.

Jewel’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. She closed her eyes a couple of times but said nothing.

Swallowing hard, Trudy held her breath, expecting bad news. Had something happened to Aunt Star? Maybe she’d suffered a stroke, her disappointment in the election too much to bear? Surely Georgia was okay; Trudy had talked to her not five minutes ago. Maybe Uncle Manifred had finally croaked, not quite making it to his hundredth birthday in a few weeks.

At last Jewel uttered, “I’ll be here. You can also reach me on my cellphone, day or night.” After she rattled off the number, she said into the phone, “Thank you for the news. Bye now.” As she went to hang up, she noticed how she’d wrapped herself in the cord. She stared at the receiver in her hand then up at the base.

“Momma, is everything okay?” Setting the knit cap on the desk, Trudy took the receiver from her mother’s hand and began to unravel the coils from around her torso and over her head.

Nodding, her mother blinked a couple of times but didn’t make a peep while Trudy freed her from the cord. As Trudy placed the receiver back on the base, her mother gripped the edge of the desk for support.

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