Pink Flamingoed Page 2

  Brad’s voice stopped Amy’s woolgathering.

  “I think it’s time you got back to the task at hand, Little Lady. What about this house? Are these people in Florida, too?”

  “No, but they’re gone until tomorrow. The Armbrusters live here. Scott pastors the church, and he and Nancy have the only three children on the street.”

  “Children, huh? Tell me about them.”

  Amy took note that the tone of Brad’s voice signified that he liked children. Another plus for the new guy.

  “Jill’s the oldest. She’s twelve, or almost thirteen as she sees it. Jill has long, straight, blonde hair and is definitely the most straight-laced of the three kids. She spends most of her time reading, although I suspect that she’d be interested if the right boy came along.”

  “I’d like her. I like readers,” Brad remarked.

  “So, you’re a bookworm, are you?”

  “Among other things,” Brad answered.

  “Continuing with the family tree, Kenny’s next. He just turned ten. He’s red-headed and freckled-face, and not only does he look like Huckleberry Finn, he’s as much of a rascal, too. Anytime he can cause problems for one of his sisters, he will.”

  “So, he has red hair like you?”

  “No, he’s a carrot top. Mine’s more auburn. Besides, I don’t have freckles.”

  “And what about the baby of the family?”

  “Don’t let Mallory hear you call her a baby. She’s five, but acts older. Her eyes are hazel. She has dark brown curls, and is as cute as she can be. You’ll love her.”

  The row of stately red bricks ended as Brad looked at the large white frame church, which was now beside them. It was not a large church, but Brad gathered that there was a fellowship hall in addition to the sanctuary, and low windows told Brad there was also a basement. The good condition of the church told Brad the people were proud of their church, and there was enough money to maintain it.

  “The Church on Aylesford Place,” Brad read. “Wonder how long it took someone to come up with such a creative name?”

  “I couldn’t venture a guess,” Amy answered. “That was well before my time.”

  “Before your time on this street, or your time on this earth?”

  “Both,” Amy answered. “Now, be quiet so I can keep up with this giddy-up crowd. It’s hard to be a tour guide with this group.”

  Brad noticed that the church was the last structure on the left side of the street. He looked past the church and noticed a sign that read: “Exit from Aylesford Park.”

  Brad looked down a driveway that was protected on both sides by a row of trees. He could not tell what lay beyond the trees. “What’s Aylesford Park?”

  “Aylesford Park is our own private park. It has picnic tables and playground equipment. There’s lots of room and loads of trees, and it’s where you’ll have your singing debut.”

  “My singing debut?”

  “Yeah, it’s where we have our Fourth of July picnic.”

  “But I thought tonight was my singing debut.”

  “I meant your turn as a soloist. That is unless you want to be a soloist tonight. I can check with the others if you like. Maybe you’d like to do The Little Drummer Boy for us.”

  Brad quit listening to Amy when he noticed the house at the end of the street. It stood in front of the park. At least, Brad thought it was a house. Unlike any other house on the street, this one had a high stone wall all the way around it, and an iron-gated entryway. A huge stone mansion hovered high above the street looking as if it could swoop down on trespassers at a moment’s notice.

  The Cold Dark Fortress

  Even under the darkness of night with the snow beating down upon them, all the other houses looked inviting. This one appeared as if no one would lighten its doorstep unless forced.

  “What’s this place?”

  “This place, Mr. Holmes, is what is known as Warfield Place.”

  “Which war was it in?”

  From what little Brad could see of the house in the darkness, it looked ominous, as if the ghosts of Aylesford Place dwelt within. Brad expected a black cat to mount the wall at any moment. He must have conveyed his feelings to the rest of the group, because they hurried across the street.

  “Aren’t we stopping here?” Brad asked. He had no desire to dawdle, but he was curious why the group did not plan to sing at this “house.”

  “Not on your life,” Cora replied.

  “You can say that again!” Harry added emphatically.

  “Doesn’t anyone live here?” Brad asked.

  “Depends on what you mean by anyone,” Harry answered.

  “What does he mean by that, Amy?” Brad asked, not wanting to be the only one not in on the secret.

  “Most people around here refer to the house’s occupant as Witch Peabody, the Wicked Witch of the West.”

  “Does that mean she has a black cat and a cauldron?”

  “We’re not sure about that,” Amy answered, “but rumors are rampant that she carries a gun and shoots at everyone on sight. When Pastor Scott moved here, he decided to visit everyone on the street. Just as he touched the iron gate and was about to open it, something whistled past his ear. When we found out about it and kidded him that the Apostle Paul was not afraid, Scott replied with, ‘Yeah, but Paul didn’t have a wife and three children.’”

  “Don’t forget to tell him about those Mormons,” Harry interjected.

  “Oh, yeah,” Amy said. “There were a couple of Mormon boys who came down our street one time. All of us stood out on our porches to see what would happen when they got to the witch’s house.”

  “Yeah,” Cora said. “I’ve never seen two boys run so fast. Their shirts had paint on them front and back. I guess they must’ve caught her painting and she threw a bucket of paint at them. In any case, we haven’t seen a Mormon since then.”

  Brad smiled as he tried to picture those Mormon boys on their escape mission.

  “Whew, we made it across the street,” Harry said, still looking a little scared of being so close to the witch’s broom closet.

  “We probably shouldn’t be so hard on the old woman,” Amy said. “Word is that she married once. Her husband died shortly after they married. She never remarried.”

  “How did he die?” Brad asked. “Stab wounds or bullet holes?”

  Harry laughed uncontrollably.

  “I believe the autopsy report said they found him in the secret passageway outside the conservatory and they think he’d been bludgeoned with a lead pipe.” Harry answered, as soon as he had regained his composure.

  “And I would have guessed it to have been a candlestick,” Brad replied. “Was it Miss Peacock, by any chance?”

  “Peabody,” Harry corrected.

  “Ah, yes. Dear old Witch Peabody, the heir to the war-torn estate. I believe I see her at the window. Doesn’t she look stunning in black?”

  Harry hid behind Brad, unaware that Brad had seen no one at the window, but then the occupant of that house could see without being seen.

  Amy smiled when she thought of how quickly Brad had become a part of the neighborhood. Not wanting to lose control of the proceedings, she resumed her role of tour guide.

  “So, there you have the left side of Aylesford. Any questions, Mr. Holmes?”

  “Well, I did have one, Dr. Watson. Why do all of the houses have a ramp leading up to the front porch?”

  “Not all of the houses. Witch Peabody’s house doesn’t have a ramp. Anyway, the ramps are to show our sense of community. They are for Allison Davenport, who lives up the street on this side,” Amy said, as she motioned to a house not yet visited.

  “I assume that means that you have an elderly lady who’s confined to a wheelchair?”

  “Allison gets around in a wheelchair, but she’s not elderly, and I don’t think anyone would think of Allison as confined. Allison has two wheelchairs, a manual one and a motorized chair, and she can navigate either of them quite we
ll.”

  “What happened? Some kind of accident?”

  “Allison fell off a horse when she was away at college, and while it paralyzed her from the waist down, it didn’t take away her spirit.”

  “Well, that’s good, at least. So how does she navigate the stairs?”

  “One reason Allison bought the house was that it already had an elevator in it. A previous owner had it installed because of her arthritic knees. Now, we’d better go on, so we can catch up with the others. Brad looked up and noticed that the others had gotten over their fright and were standing on the other side of the street.

  The Other Side of the Street

  Brad paid attention to his new neighbor and the houses she described as they walked down his side of the street, and a quick glance up the other side of the street told him the opposite side of the street looked similar. Only the house in front of the park did not fit in with the rest of the street.

  “The first house on this side of the street is vacant. So, we’ll begin with Melanie Daniels’s house, but then I assume you already know Melanie.”

  “How would I know her? I just moved here.”

  “You mean Melanie didn’t sell you your house? I didn’t know any other real estate agent was allowed on Aylesford Place.”

  “That’s because I didn’t buy my house from a real estate agent. My grandparents owned it and left it to me.”

  “You don’t mean the Pattersons?”

  “You knew them?” Brad asked excitedly.

  “I met them briefly right after I moved here. I knew that your grandfather died, and I had heard that they had to put your grandmother in a nursing home.”

  “Yeah, that really hurt us, and now she’s gone, too. I had no idea that my grandparents had decided to leave me their house,” Brad said, as he felt a lump forming in his throat.

  “So, if your grandparents owned the house, how come you don’t know any of the neighbors? Didn’t you ever visit your grandparents?”

  “Summer was my dad’s busy time, so we never came to see my grandparents when we were out of school. They usually came to see us between Christmas and New Year’s. Before this week, I’d only been to the house once. When I was very young, I came to visit my grandparents for a week. That’s probably why they left me their house. See, when I visited them, I kept raving about how much I loved their big, old house. So, how did you come about acquiring your abode, dear lady?”

  “I did it the newfangled way. I bought it.”

  “What a novel idea. However did you think of that?”

  Amy smiled and shook her head.

  As the snowflakes continued to pelt his body, Brad could not help but think how lucky he was. Not only did he have grandparents who had left him their house, but grandparents who had left him nice neighbors. Brad continued to reflect until a comment from Cora jarred him back to where he was.

  “Watch out for Melanie, Brad. She thinks any man is fair game. No man is safe around her. Just wanted to warn you.”

  “She’s never come after me,” Harry remarked.

  “I said a man, Harry.”

  Brad wondered how long it would take before Harry would learn to keep silent around Cora. Harry would never win a war of words with her. Brad already knew that much.

  “We think it’s funny that Melanie sells houses, yet the house next door to her has remained empty for quite some time. Word is that Melanie has made up her mind that she won’t sell the house to anyone except a single man. Since she’s a one-woman real estate agency and has enough money to live on, she can do whatever she wants.”

  Cora stopped talking when the group got within earshot of Melanie’s door. Cora climbed the steps, walked over and rang Melanie’s doorbell. When a vivacious blonde in skin-tight ski pants and an equally tight-fitting sweater opened the door, Brad surmised that Cora had aptly described the young woman behind the door. The group sang three carols and Melanie joined them as everyone strolled to the next house.

  “Whoa! And who are you, handsome?” Melanie cooed, as she spotted the new man in the crowd. “I think I could learn to like you,” Melanie continued, as she walked over and put her two arms around Brad’s left arm. There was enough light that Melanie noticed Brad’s cornflower blue eyes. She wondered if it was a crime for a man to have such beautiful eyes.

  “Down, tiger,” Cora said, before Brad had a chance to reply. “Don’t go twisting your drawers in a knot.”

  Not knowing where the scenario would go and wanting to keep peace, Brad answered.

  “I’m Brad. I just moved in down the street.”

  “How did you get into the neighborhood without me noticing you?” Melanie purred.

  “His grandparents owned the house, and his wife and four kids will be joining him next week,” Cora lied, as she tried to repel Brad’s assailant.

  “Well, if you need a cup of sugar or something, you know where I live,” Melanie flirted, as she twirled around.

  “Here, Melanie. This will cool you off,” Cora said, as she picked up a handful of snow and stuffed it down Melanie’s coat.

  The rest of the group laughed at Cora’s move. Melanie did not seem to mind it, either. She kept her eyes on the tall, blond newcomer.

  “Hey, Melanie! How come Bertha Callahan’s got a man and you haven’t?” Harry asked.

  “Why, Harry, I’m just waiting for you to leave Ethel and come calling on little ole me,” Melanie purred.

  “Oh, brother!” Cora exclaimed.

  “Who’s Bertha Callahan?” Brad asked Amy.

  “Coming up next, we have the home of Bertha Callahan, the sweetheart of that daredevil, Barney Flowers. And you’d better sing loud. Old Bertha doesn’t hear like she used to.”

  “Hey, Harry, do you realize that you’re going to miss Wheel Of Fortune and Jeopardy?” Melanie asked.

  “Oh, Harry bought me a VCR,” Ethel interjected.

  “Harry who?” Cora asked.

  “Why my Harry, of course.”

  “You mean Harry paid money for a VCR?”

  “Harry always keeps his promises. Several years ago Harry and I were shopping, and I told Harry we should get a VCR. Harry told me that $500 was too much for one of those contraptions, but if they ever came down to $50, he’d buy me one. Well, they finally came down to $50, and I reminded Harry of his promise.”

  “That sounds like Harry. Just when everyone else is buying a DVD player, old Harry finally springs for a VCR.”

  “Hey, these things are nice. I can tape Wheel and Jeopardy and Vanna is there waiting for me when I get home, even if I decide to wait until tomorrow to watch it.”

  “We know, Harry. The rest of us have had VCRs for years.”

  Amy turned to fill in Brad on Harry’s interests.

  “Harry and Ethel don’t watch much TV, but they always watch The Price Is Right every morning, and every night they watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy.”

  “I must go over there sometime. I’ve never seen any of those shows in black-and-white,” Brad replied.

  Amy doubled over in laughter and slapped her knees.

  Cora noticed Amy, shed a tear, and stopped to say a prayer.

  “Oh, God, please let Brad be the one for Amy.”

  When Amy regained her composure, she replied to Brad’s comment.

  “I don’t how what compelled him to do so, but at some point Harry splurged and bought Ethel a color TV. He still has an old push mower, however. You know, the kind without a motor.”

  This time it was Brad’s turn to laugh, only not as vociferously as Amy did.

  Amy noticed that they had arrived at Bertha’s house and poked Brad to get his attention.

  “Okay, good and loud, everybody,” Cora said as she rang Bertha’s doorbell.

  The growing group sang three songs before Bertha realized they were there. When Bertha opened the front door, Cora hollered, “Come on, Bertha! Get your coat! We’ll be at Barney’s house soon!”

  “You say Barney’s with you. Where is h
e? I don’t see him. Yoo-hoo! Oh, Barney. Where are you, my Sweet Pea?”

  “Barney’s not with us! We’re going to his house in a minute! Get your coat!” Cora hollered in Bertha’s ear.

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? Just a minute! I’ve got it right here. I thought tonight was the night.”

  As the group descended on Allison Davenport’s house next door to Bertha, Bertha yanked on Cora’s coat sleeve and said, “This isn’t Barney’s house. His house is the next one.”

  “I know, Bertha dear, but we have to stop for Allison first.”

  As the group ascended the stairs to the porch, Allison threw open the front door and wheeled herself onto the front porch. She was bundled up and ready to go.

  “Okay, let’s hear it,” Allison ordered. “Give me your best Rudolph.”

  Allison whipped the troupe into shape, listened to their customary three songs, and then raced down the ramp and was the first to arrive at the sidewalk in front of her house.

  “See, I told you,” Amy said, as she elbowed Brad.

  “Hey, does that thing have snow tires?” Amy asked, as she caught up with her friend.

  “No, just studs. They’re great for getting out in the weather, but they sure tear up my carpeting,” Allison said, as she and Amy enjoyed a good laugh.

  “Hey, I don’t think I know you,” Allison said, reaching her hand up to Brad.

  “Hi, I’m Brad. I just moved in across the street.”

  “So, someone is now living in the old Patterson place.”

  “Yeah, the Pattersons were his grandparents,” Amy said.

  “And his wife and four kids will be joining him next week,” Melanie chimed in, while everyone else did their best not to give away Brad’s secret.

  As soon as Amy could get Allison aside, Amy let her know that Brad’s fictitious wife and four kids were strictly to keep Melanie at bay. Allison easily understood.

  Amy returned to Brad in order to do her proper job of tour guide and fill him in about Barney.

  “Hey, why can’t I be the one to tell Brad about the neighbors?” Melanie asked. “After all, I am the real estate agent. Who should know more about this street than I do?”