Pink Flamingoed Page 18

  “Did the gentleman need something, Milford?”

  “Yes, Mr. Magoffin. This gentleman wanted to see something similar to what Lady Catherine McPherson purchased.”

  Mr. Magoffin gently pushed Milford aside and approached Brad.

  “I am sorry, sir, but we do not discuss our clients’ purchases. I am sure you can understand that we must keep our clients’ business confidential.”

  “Oh course. I didn’t mean anything by asking. I merely heard that Lady Catherine had made a fine selection, and knowing that Lady Catherine has such exquisite taste, I wanted to see the same item she bought.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I cannot share that information with you. However, I would be glad to show you what we have.”

  “Come to think of it, I think it would be best if I had my family with me to help me decide.”

  “I understand. We will be glad to assist you at any time.”

  Brad hurried home to share with Amy what he had learned.

  “But Brad, there’s probably a very good explanation for Lady Catherine buying three caskets.”

  “I’m sure there is, but do you think someone got it in the shower, on the stairs, or in the basement?”

  “So you’ve given up on your theory that Miss Peacock did it in the conservatory with the lead pipe?”

  “That was never my theory. That was what Harry thought. Only it’s not Peacock, it’s Peabody. Come on now, Amy. Why would someone buy three coffins at once and what happened to the third one?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe someone buried it in the cemetery.”

  “Or in their basement. And wonder who’s in the third coffin.”

  “Can I cast my vote for Mr. McPherson?”

  “Norman, or his grandfather?”

  “I vote for his grandfather.”

  “And who’s going to be buried in the other two coffins?”

  “Maybe no one. Maybe they just keep them in the basement for those times when nosy neighbors come sneaking around.”

  “You might think differently if one of the neighbors comes up missing one night.”

  “If that happens, Brad, I’ll hold the flashlight while you climb in the basement window.”

  +++

  Mallory stepped out the back door of her house, her mind occupied. She had no idea Kenny was in his tree house, prepared for the moment she stepped into view. Kenny looked to make sure his mom and dad were not around, then fired, just as Mallory turned and stepped back into the house. Kenny hoped the crash of the falling flower pot was not loud enough to alert his mother. It did not matter, just as Mallory walked back inside, her dad walked out to sit on the deck for a few minutes, just as the flower pot exploded.

  The mud ball and flower pot were not hard to clean up. Two weeks spent in his room were more painful. It was almost as bad as the view he had of his two sisters redecorating his tree house. Kenny almost threw up when the pink curtains went up. His only solace was watching a scared Jill climb the rope ladder. Her dad stood below and smiled as younger sister Mallory encouraged Jill from her vantage point up in the tree house. Once Jill had conquered the climb, she and Mallory turned, smiled, and waved at their brother, who was not quick enough to duck out of sight in the confines of his room. Two weeks, and then back to his tree house, but first he would have to fumigate it.

  Fund Raiser

  Spring had set in, and thankfully the weather matched the calendar. It didn’t rain all the way until summer. Spring was not bypassed and Hopemont wasn’t thrust into a summer heat wave. Instead, days were sunny with the temperature fluctuating from the low to upper seventies. Nights slightly on the nippy side, but still pleasant. Perfect weather for getting out and doing something. Why would anyone crave humid summers or frigid winters? Summers are only good for sipping a cold glass of lemonade while lying in the backyard hammock with a breeze blowing through the trees. Winter is only good for winter sports, curling up under the covers with a book, or hibernating, and with winter sports come body casts. Spring is good for dreaming and doing, especially doing unto others during an annual fund raiser.

  Amy picked up the phone and called Brad. “Did Cora call you yet?”

  “Yeah, what’s it all about?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think it’s about the fund raiser.”

  “What fund raiser?”

  “Hasn’t anyone mentioned it? Each year we decide on a fund raiser to raise money for the orphanage, and, to save time, Cora volunteers to decide on an idea for the fund raiser.”

  “So, this is sort of like Aylesford Place’s version of Girl Scout cookies or buying the overpriced candy school kids sell?”

  “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

  “Any idea what we’re selling this year?”

  “I don’t know that we’re selling anything. That’s what the meeting at Frank and Cora’s is for.”

  “Maybe we’re going to get people to sponsor us in a walkathon.”

  “I can’t see some of the people on this street taking part in a walkathon, but you never know. All of them are pretty spry for their age. Anyway, we’ll find out tonight.”

  Brad laughed.

  “Are you laughing at what I said, or something else?”

  “I was just thinking what it would be like to see all of our neighbors involved in a golf scramble,” Brad answered.

  “It would be a scramble, all right. Well, I’ll let you get back to work. See you tonight.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Brad said, before hanging up the phone.

  That last comment made Amy stand there, smiling for a few moments. Eventually, she realized that she had not yet hung up her phone. It was words like Brad’s closing comment that made Amy wish for more time to spend with the man she loved. Like a lifetime.

  +++

  Aylesford Place was abuzz. All day long neighbors called other neighbors to see if anyone had any idea what idea Cora had for a fund raiser. They should have known better. Cora was not about to reveal her fund raiser idea to anyone until everyone gathered at her house. Although spring had arrived and the weather was pleasant, the afternoon moved much too slowly for all concerned.

  When evening came, Harry and Ethel were the first to arrive at Frank and Cora’s. This was surprising because Harry had no idea why the neighbors were getting together. Ethel decided not to tell him in order to keep Harry from bugging her all afternoon. Plus, Harry would have screwed his shoes on tighter and left his money at home if he had suspected anything.

  “This meeting isn’t about another raise for Pastor Scott, is it?” Harry asked, as soon as he came in the door.

  “No, Harry. I’ll let you know what it’s all about as soon as everyone gets here.”

  Everyone arrived by 7:30, and Cora delayed the suspense no longer.

  “Okay, everyone, as everyone other than Harry probably already knows, I’ve called you together tonight to let you know about this year’s project to raise money for the orphanage. I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. This year our project is the Phoenicopturus ruber.”

  “You’d better watch your mouth, Cora. Remember, the pastor’s here,” Brad said, drawing a laugh from the crowd.

  “What is that, Cora? Some kind of disease?” Harry asked.

  “Not any disease I’ve ever heard of,” Doc said.

  “My guess is that it’s either plant or animal,” Allison interjected.

  “Right you are, Allison. Just a second and I’ll get our species for you.”

  Cora left the room and returned carrying something under her arm.

  “Harry, here is a Phoenicopturus ruber.”

  “You could have fooled me. To me, it looks like a plastic sunburned stork.”

  “Actually, Harry,” Brad interjected, “it’s a pink flamingo.”

  “And you actually paid money for one of those things, Cora?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, and you might, too, Harry.”

  “So, what are we supposed to do, Cora, buy one for our yard or se
ll them to everyone we know?” Barney asked.

  “Neither one, Barney.”

  “Whew!” said a relieved Harry. “This is starting to sound a little better than I thought, but I don’t see how we can raise any money from these things unless we either buy them or sell them.”

  “I think I see,” said the mystery writer.

  “Okay, Mr. Holmes. Tell us what the grand dame has in mind for us,” Amy said, challenging the powers of her true love.

  “Well, my guess is that someone will take this thing home at some point and sneak into someone else’s yard and stick it in the ground without getting caught. And if that person gets away with it, the person in whose yard it is found has to pay a set amount to the orphanage,” Brad speculated.

  “Why, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry said. “Even Cora wouldn’t come up with something like that.”

  “Actually Harry, Cora did come up with something like that,” Cora said, proud of her idea.

  “I think this thing has taken a turn for the worse,” Harry said, as he covered his face with his hands.

  Cora continued in order to do so before Harry offered any rebuttal.

  “Listen carefully, everyone. Here are the rules. Before anyone leaves here tonight, each one of us will draw an envelope out of the box I have in the corner. In each envelope is a piece of paper. All of the pieces of paper are blank except for one. Whichever one of us draws out the piece of paper with the ‘X’ on it will come back and pick up the pink flamingo from our front porch, and at some point before daylight, the same person must take the pink flamingo and put it somewhere on the property of another of the street’s residents.

  “You are not to hide the flamingo. It must be placed where someone can see it, so putting it under someone’s ramp or under someone’s front porch is a no-no. Naturally, the vacant house is off limits, and so is the Orthmyer’s house. If the person can place the flamingo and get away without getting caught, then the person on whose property the flamingo is placed will owe the orphanage fund the sum of twenty dollars.”

  “Twenty dollars!” Harry exclaimed.

  “Yes, Harry, twenty dollars. And if by some chance the person who has the flamingo is caught trying to place it on someone else’s property, then the person trying to place it must pay the twenty dollars. Each day, whoever has the flamingo is responsible for taking it to someone else’s property. Any questions?”

  “Are we allowed to disguise the flamingo in any way or put it in a box?” Kenny asked, excitedly.

  “No, Kenny. Whoever has the flamingo must take it as it is. Oh, you can feel free to decorate it for the person you give it to, but it must be recognizable as our flamingo. Also, whoever has the flamingo must either stick the wire into the ground, or leave it somewhere, like on the front porch swing or by the front door.”

  “This sounds like fun,” Jill exclaimed.

  “Yeah,” Mallory echoed.

  Scott turned to Nancy and whispered in her ear.

  “It looks like it took a pink flamingo to get all of our kids excited about the same thing.”

  “I have a question,” Allison said. “Is it possible for the same person to receive the flamingo more than once?”

  “Yes, Allison, but we’re not to pick on the same person all the time,” Cora answered. “Let’s spread the wealth around, so to speak.”

  Cora finished answering questions and her neighbors began to draw envelopes from the box.

  +++

  Brad left as Amy did and walked her home.

  “You’re just trying to get rid of me, so that you can sneak back later and leave me an ugly bird,” Amy said.

  “How dare you call a Phoenicopturus ruber ugly?”

  “Only you could remember the scientific name of the thing, Brad Forrester.”

  “And only you would call that poor, unwanted, defenseless thing ugly, Amy Carmichael.”

  “Did you see the beak on that thing?”

  “Yeah, and I’ll try to see that you get an up-close look,” Brad replied.

  “Listen, Mister. You’d better get home. I might have some work to do tonight.”

  “Me, too. I might go home and start writing The Mystery of the Phoenicopturus Ruber,” Brad said.

  “Writers!” Amy said.

  “Photographers!” Brad countered.

  And with that, Brad and Amy hugged and kissed good night.

  +++

  The Armbruster children hurried home, each one eager to discover if he or she had the envelope with the “X.” Scott unlocked the door and everyone hurried inside.

  “How are we going to do this, Dad?” Kenny asked. “Secretive or as a family?”

  “Well, since it doesn’t do us any good to work alone, and we’re all in the same boat this time, let’s sit down and open them together, only one at a time.”

  “Can I be first?” Kenny asked.

  “I think we should start with the oldest,” their mother suggested.

  “Okay, you go first, dear,” her husband said.

  “I beg your pardon,” Nancy said in mock anger.

  Scott opened his envelope. His paper was blank. Nancy followed, and hers too was blank.

  “Oh, man,” Kenny said, disappointed that one of his parents did not have the envelope with the “X.”

  “We still have three more chances,” Mallory said optimistically.

  Jill went next, but had no better luck than her parents. Then came Kenny’s turn, and the same result. All of the family’s hopes rested upon Mallory. Mallory took her time, thus prolonging the agony.

  “Hurry up, slow poke,” her brother said, eagerly awaiting the family’s fate.

  Mallory opened her envelope and slipped the paper out of the envelope. It too was blank. All of the Armbruster children dejectedly sat back in their chairs.

  “We should have drawn one out for the baby, too,” Jill said.

  “It’s not fair,” Kenny chimed in. “We had the most possibilities. One of us should’ve gotten it.”

  “Maybe whoever has it will leave it in our yard tonight,” Mallory offered, remaining optimistic.

  “It looks like our children are eager to spend our money,” Scott said, turning to Nancy.

  “Who do you think has it?” Kenny asked.

  ”I think Brad has it,” Jill said.

  “You would,” Kenny replied.

  “I think it’s Amy,” Mallory said.

  “Well, my vote goes to Allison,” Kenny said.

  “Well, if we’re all going on the record, I’ll vote for Harry,” Scott added.

  “You can put me down for Lady Catherine,” Nancy said.

  Pink Flamingoed

  Harry and Ethel trudged home. Harry hurried to the bedroom, opened his envelope, and looked at the paper inside. It was blank. While Harry thought the odds of him getting the paper with the “X” were slim, he had hoped that he was the one. Harry felt the chances were better he could get in and out of someone’s yard without getting caught than he did that he could wake up from a sound sleep and catch someone in the act before they could get away from his house. Knowing that he did not have the paper with the “X,” Harry plotted his strategy, and gathered his things. A strange man headed through the living room carrying a blanket and a pillow.

  “Where are you going with those?” Ethel asked.

  “I’m going to sleep on the front porch tonight,” Harry replied.

  “Why, did I do something to offend you?”

  “No, I want to be ready in case someone tries to place a pink flamingo in our yard.”

  “Harry, there’s no need to sleep out on the front porch.”

  “I have no intention of paying twenty dollars, and there’s no way I can catch someone if I’m asleep in the bedroom.”

  “Harry, you don’t have to worry. No one’s going to leave the bird at our house tonight.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  Ethel turned and showed her husband the paper bearing t
he “X.”

  “So, you got it,” Harry said, as he traded his worried look for a devious grin.

  “So, who do you plan to give it to?” Harry asked.

  “I’m not sure if I should tell you.”

  “And why not? I’m your husband.”

  “Okay, Harry. While you were in the other room getting together all of your camping gear, I was thinking that Allison might appreciate being the first one to display the flamingo.”

  “Allison? The crippled woman? I’m not sure if she’d be able to get around well enough to put it in someone’s yard without being caught. She might be stuck with that monstrosity for a week. Of course, if she’s stuck with it, that means it won’t cost you and me any money. Now, that I think about it, I like your idea. Allison, it is.”

  “Don’t let the fact that Allison can’t walk fool you, Harry. She gets around as well as any of the rest of us. I bet she doesn’t have any trouble getting rid of the flamingo. Maybe she’ll take it to the Armbrusters. I bet their kids would die to wake and see the flamingo in their yard.”

  “Maybe you’re right, but I bet if someone doesn’t catch her, it’s because they feel sorry for her and don’t catch her on purpose.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll find out. That is, if she doesn’t catch me tonight.”

  “Catch us, you mean.”

  “You mean you’re going with me?”

  “You bet I am. I’m not about to let you bungle the job.”

  “How long do you think we ought to wait until we pick up the bird?”

  “I don’t know, Ethel. I guess we need to wait a while to give Allison time to get to sleep, but I don’t want to wait too long. I don’t want to miss too much of my beauty sleep.”

  Harry and Ethel waited a while and then chanced it. Each of them smeared on some black face paint they had left over from a costume party several years before. They hoped that the black make-up helped them blend in with the night. To make sure, they donned dark clothes, too.

  Harry and Ethel turned off all of their lights and sneaked out the front door. They tiptoed down the steps and across Brad’s yard in order to make less noise. As Harry and Ethel crossed Brad’s yard, they saw Brad’s shadow through his front door. Harry and Ethel fell to their stomachs. They lay on the grass in front of the railing on Brad’s porch. Harry put his finger to his lips in order to make sure Ethel stayed quiet. The two of them lay prone in front of Brad’s porch until five minutes after they saw Brad’s light go out.