The Darling Dahlias and the Naked Ladies

“Drop it, I said!” Buddy Norris shouted, but the figure didn’t move.

And then from inside the house came a sudden loud clanging, somebody banging on a big metal pot with a metal spoon—several somebodies, several pots, louder and faster, faster and louder, strangely syncopated. Then to this accompaniment they heard a wild, weird, wordless, otherworldly wailing that Bessie recognized from old African slave songs, passionate reverberations at the gates of the underworld. And then Miss Hamer’s shrill screeches split the air in a bloodcurdling, bone-shivering, banshee crescendo. It was, unmistakably, a Rebel yell.

It was the Rebel yell that toppled Frankie Diamond—and no wonder, for it was the same yell that had scared the pants off every Union soldier when he heard it through the trees or over a stone wall. Diamond dropped the gun and fell to his knees, covering his head with his arms, cowering.

“Lots of good old-fashioned Alabama yellin’ goin’ on over there,” Liz remarked cheerfully, as Buddy Norris ran up, kicked the gun away, and jerked Diamond to his feet.

“That damn Yankee must think all the hounds of hell are after him,” Verna observed with satisfaction. In one swift move, Buddy pulled the man’s hands behind his back and handcuffed him. Then he went to the kitchen window and rapped on it, and the pot-clanging and African wailing stopped. The Rebel yell continued for a moment, then it stopped, too. The night was quiet once again, as front doors all along the street popped open and people spilled out onto their porches to see what was going on.

Mr. Butler, two doors down, called, “Dep’ty Norris, you need a hand over there?”

“I reckon if you’ve got ten minutes, you can help me march this Yankee off to the hoosegow,” Buddy replied. “I’m gonna book ’im on a charge of attempted assault with a deadly weapon, attempted burglary, trespassin’, and disturbin’ the peace. And maybe by the time I get him there, I’ll think of something else to pin on him.”

“Lemme get my shoes on,” Mr. Butler replied. “Be with you in a shake.”

So that was why the neighbors along Camellia Street were treated to the satisfying sight of Deputy Buddy Norris, accompanied by Mr. Butler in his undershirt, trousers, and suspenders, escorting one of Al Capone’s most dangerous gangsters to the Cypress County jail, upstairs over Snow’s Farm Supply. It wasn’t a comfortable jail, just two small cells, one of which was probably already occupied by a drunk or a vagrant.

“Well, my goodness,” Bessie said limply to Verna and Lizzy. “How in the world did you girls manage all that?”

“We didn’t do anything much,” Verna said in a modest tone. “Buddy wanted to be a hero, so we asked him to hang around in the dark and see if Diamond showed up. And Liz put Sally-Lou up to organizing a little noisemaking with those clanging pots and pans. We thought that maybe some racket from inside would confuse Diamond and make it easier for Buddy to nab him.”

“And that Rebel yell?” Bessie asked.

“That,” Liz said with a chuckle, “was Miss Hamer’s own idea.”

Verna let out her breath. “Well, now that Buddy’s got his man, what say we play some hearts?” She rubbed her hands. “I’m ready for a game!”

“Maybe we could have refreshments first,” Liz said. “All this excitement has made me thirsty. And didn’t I see some lemon chess bars on a platter on your sideboard, Bessie?” She grinned. “You must’ve known that they’re my favorite.”



The three of them polished off the refreshments, then played a couple of games. The Magnolia Ladies came home from the baby shower and Liz and Verna said good night and went home. Bessie put away the card table and straightened the parlor, then climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

All in all, it had been a memorable day, from its inauspicious and rather ordinary beginning at Beulah’s Beauty Bower to its extraordinary conclusion with Miss Hamer’s Rebel yell and the arrest of a Chicagoland gangster right across the street—not to mention Miss Hamer’s claim that her father had paid Harold to jilt her and leave Darling. Who would have thought that all those amazing things could happen on just one day? She rather hoped that things would go back to being ordinary again tomorrow. She’d had just about all the excitement she could handle.