The walls of the church were cast with flickering lights, the reflection from all the rhinestones.
Rachel knew that Athena and Buley had organized all this. The dresses had come from the thrift store, had been rented in Missoula, or stolen outright. Buley might have sewn some herself. Rachel nodded at her former sponsor. Athena clutched at her scarf made of rainbow colors and smiled sadly in return.
The reverend clapped his hands together, to regain the attention of his congregation, and resumed the service. Rachel didn’t mind, because she was surrounded by her team, surrounded by the Flood Girls.
She held Bucky’s hand, and she held her mother’s hand, and things seemed the way Jake would have wanted, and she was content.
The reverend began speaking again, and then Frank let out a sharp bark and jumped down from Laverna’s lap. They had never heard him bark before, and watched as he marched up the aisle. The front rows murmured as he made his way to the front of the church. He turned around when he reached the platform, and sat in front of the coffin, staring defiantly at the entire congregation.
Frank guarded the boy who was going to be buried. The reverend called for the owner, but Laverna ignored him.
This time, Frank wasn’t going anywhere.
Fireman’s Ball, 1992
The Fireman’s Ball, 1992, and the fire hall was stifling hot, as usual, but Rachel stood by the barrels of fire, reluctant to leave the side of Red Mabel, who was telling some story about a grizzly bear. Red Mabel did not like it when people abandoned her in the middle of a story.
Rachel was in the corner with Laverna, Red Mabel, and Martha. They were drinking beers, while Rachel sipped on her soda. Conversation turned to Rocky Bailey, who had been made an honorary volunteer fireman.
The jitterbuggers made asses of themselves in the back, tripping on hoses, but dancing on, carelessly, recklessly, happily. Rachel admired them for this.
Martha’s daughter, Misty, was hiding in the corner, sucking face with one of the volunteer firemen. Martha was too drunk to notice her, and Rachel didn’t feel like warning Misty about what her future held.
Across the hall, the Chief was in deep conversation with Bucky. Bucky held the coffee can with the ticket stubs. He had apparently been promoted.
During the last four months, Red Mabel had been preoccupied, plans spinning behind her eyes. She was a huntress, and Rachel hoped the assassination would be messy, but remain covert. Bert had it coming.
Jake was buried behind New Life Evangelical, and there wasn’t anything the Flood Girls could do about it. He was the first to be buried there, which would have pleased him. Ginger and Rachel planted a dogwood bush behind the headstone, despite the reverend’s protestations. To silence him, Ginger promised to return with one of Red Mabel’s guns. In the winter, the bare branches of the dogwood were a bright red, the only bright thing in all that snow. Laverna and Rachel hung a rosary from the branches, and the parishioners kept removing it. There was no shortage of rosaries at the thrift store, and Buley was happy to provide replacements.
Rachel watched as Laverna nearly fell into a barrel, but Red Mabel reached out and caught her in time. Diane was deep in conversation with her latest beau, the hippie from Missoula. Rumor at the Dirty Shame was that the two were building an A-frame out in the wilderness. They danced together by the utility sink, so close they seemed to be melting into each other. A flash from the dark corner, Black Mabel and her new white teeth, selling something illicit to an impressionable young fireman. The Sinclairs were nowhere to be found. They did not, and never would, attend such things. Ginger Fitchett and Della argued about something that had to do with the decorations. Ginger kept pointing upward and shaking her head. She appointed herself the decorator of the entire town of Quinn, her version of continuing Jake’s good works.
Ronda attempted to sell raffle tickets, but she just stood silently in front of people until they grew uncomfortable and emptied their pockets. Jim Number Three gave her a twenty-dollar bill. He was the only volunteer who took care of his uniform—his polo shirt was neatly ironed. Rachel respected that, and she also admired his tenaciousness. He approached Laverna, but stopped short, pretended to inspect a fire extinguisher latched to the wall. Rachel did not understand the necessity of a fire extinguisher amid all those hoses, but understood being nervous here. Once upon a time, she had stood by herself, trying to appear inconspicuous.
Rachel touched his arm as she passed him, and Jim Number Three smiled gratefully. Her mother lectured Red Mabel about machine guns.
“Everyone will know it was you,” Laverna said, and accepted a kiss on the cheek from her daughter.
“I can’t help it,” said Red Mabel.