Nobody's Sorry You're Dead

64

"Brinkley called me and told me you were taking me to Doc Emory's today, Hadley," Mama said. "I'm glad for the comp'ny. It's been a coon's age since I seen you."

"I been busier than a centipede at a jitterbug contest, Mama," said Hadley.

Hadley refrained from asking Mama how she was. There was no need. Sooner or later, Mama would get around to filling you in. 

No one, except Doc Emory, knew exactly where Mama's goozle, pizzlin' string, or any other of the numerous descriptive adjectives Mama had for her body parts. Mama was a lady.

So, Hadley was floored when instead of going into a long, drawn out list of complaints, aches, and pains, and general feelings of malaise and discomfort, Mama said, "You know, honey, with all these evil goings on, I'm 'a great mind to start lockin' my doors and winders."

"Mama," Hadley said, "there's nothing to fear around here. Hope Rock County is nothing if not boring. Sandy's locked up tighter than Dick's hatband down at the jail."

"But what if it ain't Sandy's hand that needs to be chained?"

"What are you saying, Mama? Do you know something nobody else knows?"

"Well, Hadley Jane," Mama said, "I watch the news. No place is safe no more. I don't know what's got into folks? But I ain't afraid to say I'm scared.

I know first they said it was Gunn. Locked him up, too. Tighter 'an Dick's hatband. Then, just like that, they say it ain't Gunn. It's Sandy. Maybe, they're wrong about that, too. I don't know.

One thing I do know, they's a lot of folks 'round 'ese parts that are glad that old stinker is moldering in the ground. He's caused more trouble and heartache than a little. I don't know who put Eustian Singlepenny out of his misery, but I for one would like to shake that person's hand."

"Mama," Hadley said, "Eustian was murdered."

"I know that! Why you think I've been on Buster to lock them doors at night when he comes in off his shift?"

"You don't think either Miller boy did it, then," said Hadley.

"Honey, I can't say yea or nay. But if Gunn didn't, and then they decide Sandy didn't, then we got us one mighty smart sneak who did."

"Since you put it that way, I guess if Sandy is let eventually go, like Gunn was, then we do."

Mama looked pained.

"Honey?"

"What is it, Mama. You all right?" Hadley asked.

"Could you roll your window up?" Mama asked.

"But, Mama, it's as hot as blue blazes in this cab," said Hadley.

"Yeah, it is a might warm, but I got this twinge in my toodle. Weatherman says it ain't gonna rain today. But I prefer to dicker. My toodle's been tellin' me them wet clouds is coming. I declare it's givin' me fits.

Didn't sleep a wink last night. That's why I'm goin' to see Doc Emory. Good ole Doc. He's never too busy to see old Mama. I'll give 'em 'at. 

I called him up. He said come on over today. He'd fix me right up. He's such a darlin' 'bout giving me just the remedy for whatever ails me. 

'Em pills he prescribes are sumpin', Hadley. I'da been pushin' up daisies long ago if it wasn't for old Doc. Call him a quack if you want to, but for me, there ain't nobody like that man.

I took me the last of my remedy two days ago. I knew right then I shoulda' made me a 'perntment to see Doc. But I was just so busy. Now, my toodle's outta whack. I asked him if he thought I might need surgery."

"Toodle surgery?" Hadley asked.

"Don't worry, honey. Doc told me all I needed was some more of them pills he gives me. You know, Hadley," Mama said, "Doc Emory and his pills are just the remedy for what ails ya."

"Umm-hmm," Hadley said, glad that the good Doc's office wasn't that far away.

If it had been, Hadley was sure she would have suffered a heat stroke from driving Mama and her toodles around with the windows rolled up.