Birdie Swensen, who had been with Katrina in 1916 at the St. Louis demonstration for women’s votes, said to Katrina, “Did you notice that not one woman was mentioned as being a great American? How about Susan B. Anthony? She helped get the vote for fifty-two percent of all American citizens…fifty-two percent!”
“Oh, Lord, once a suffragette, always a suffragette,” whispered her husband to his friend.
—
THE NEXT WEEK, at Birdie and Katrina’s request, the ladies were discussing who their favorite American women were, and Elner was ready with her list.
“Ginger Rogers, Dolly Parton, and the Statue of Liberty.”
Her sister Ida said, “Oh, Lord, Elner. The Statue of Liberty is not a person.”
“Well, she was once, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, but she was not an American. Miss Beemer said American women. Now my choice is Mrs. Regina Chalkley.”
“Who’s that?” asked Elner.
“The national president of the Garden Club of America. That’s who.”
“Nobody has ever heard of her, Ida,” said Gerta.
“Well, I have.”
Mrs. Bell suddenly offered a name. “Kate Smith.”
“Who?” asked a younger lady.
Elner said, “Kate Smith. She was that heavyset gal singer, used to be on the radio, had that big hit.” Then Elner sang out in a loud voice, “Oooh, when the moon comes over the mountain.”
“I still don’t know who she is,” said the lady.
Ada Goodnight said, “Hey, I have one. How about Sally Ride, the astronaut?”
“That’s a good one,” said Tot.
Verbena said, “Minnie Pearl.”
“Who?” asked Birdie.
“She was a comedian on the Grand Ole Opry, always wore that funny hat.”
Katrina said, “How about Louisa May Alcott?”
Ruby said, “Oh, that’s a good one, Katrina.”
Elner suddenly made a comment. “Isn’t it funny? Kate Smith used to be one of the biggest stars we had, and nobody under seventy knows who she is.”
Tiffany Ann, the teenage texter, suddenly joined in the conversation. “Like, uh, nobody’s even mentioned Lady Gaga.”
“Who?” asked about a hundred people.
“Just, like…the most famous person…like…in the whole entire world. Like…hello?”
This conversation was so interesting. Lucille Beemer, always on the rove for good discussion questions, thought that next week she might suggest the topic “Fame: Is It Worth the Effort?”
They didn’t know it yet, but that was to be their last Thursday afternoon discussion meeting. On Lucille Beemer’s next birthday, which was to be her 129th, all of her friends and ex-students, of which there were many, decided to surprise her and sing “Happy Birthday.”
On the morning of her birthday, the Goodnight sisters started and then everybody else joined in with a loud and rousing “Happy birthday, Miss Beemer. Happy birthday to you!” After it was over, everyone cheered and yelled, “Speech! Speech!”
They all waited to hear what she was going to say. They waited for a few more minutes. Then Ruby said, “Lucille…are you there?”
But there was no answer. Lucille Beemer was gone.
—
HE’D BEEN A RATHER quiet man and so it wasn’t until several weeks later when someone discovered that Gustav Tildholme was gone as well.
Norma had been sick for only a short time, but when she arrived at Still Meadows, she found herself in a state of complete shock. And not so much over the fact that she was there, awake and talking. It was something else.
“All my life, I had been so afraid and scared of dying, and it wasn’t scary at all. I just floated on out just as easy as can be, and I can’t believe how calm and peaceful I feel.”
“I’m so happy for you, honey,” said Elner. “I know how you suffered with your nerves.”
“Oh, thank you, Aunt Elner. I just hope it lasts.”
“Oh, it will, I promise you. If anything, it gets even better. Every morning I wake up and fall in love with the world all over again. I’d had a lot of peaceful moments before I got here, but nothing like this. It really does pass all understanding, doesn’t it, Tot?”
Tot Whooten said, “Hey, Norma, glad you’re here, hon. It sure does. And it’s so nice not to have a thing to do, but sit back and relax and enjoy yourself.”
Elner said, “Now, honey, aren’t you glad little Macky bought you your plot? If he hadn’t, no telling where you might have ended up.”
Tot added, “Hey, Norma, it’s a good thing I didn’t know how much fun being dead was going to be or I would have jumped off the top of a building and gotten here sooner.”
Elner laughed. “Well, it’s a good thing we don’t have any tall buildings in Elmwood Springs.”
Tot said, “Well, I could have jumped off the water tower. I didn’t think about that. Oh, well, too late now. I got here when I was supposed to, I guess.”
“Do you think it’s true, Aunt Elner?” asked Norma. “That we died when we were supposed to?”
“Oh, I feel it is, honey.” Then Elner added, “In fact, I think you came up at just the right time.”
—
TWO DAYS LATER, ELNER Shimfissle disappeared. It was a huge loss for everyone. First Miss Beemer, now Elner. She would be missed terribly, but Norma was thankful that at least she’d had a chance to speak with her that one last time.
It was three A.M., and James Dwayne Whooten, Jr., was rattling around in the kitchen, trying his best not to make any noise. He had looked in her purse, but as usual, his wife, Debbie, had hidden her car keys from him. She worked at Walmart and had just bought herself a new Toyota Camry, and she didn’t want him getting drunk and wrecking it. Damn Debbie, she was the cause of all his problems. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, he could have left a long time ago, but he had hung around, taking care of his kids and hers from another marriage. And now he just found out she was having an affair with some dude in the photo department. The kids didn’t give him any respect. Just last week, when he had been passed out on the couch, one of her brats had tried to set fire to him, so the hell with all of them. He looked everywhere. In the coffeepot, the microwave oven, in all the drawers, on the shelves, behind the toaster, but no keys. Shit.
Defeated, he went into the living room and flopped down on the plaid La-Z-Boy. Then he had another thought. He got up and went to the drawer where she kept all the information on the kitchen appliances and insurance papers, and sure enough, there it was: the envelope from the Toyota dealership with the car papers, and inside was the extra key. AHA…Margaritaville, here I come!
Today was Wednesday, and as usual, Edna Childress was over at the senior center. Wednesday was bingo day. Edna never missed bingo day or Texas hold ’em poker.
Ralph Childress was at home, sitting at the kitchen table with his coffee and a piece of apple pie Edna had left out for him, scrolling through his phone. He was looking on eBay at pictures of used recreational vehicles for sale. Luther Griggs, who had been an expert, had told him the best kind to look for.