It's Murder at the Buy-Right

43

It had taken a Herculean amount of effort, but all of the buggies were lined up on a large plywood box that ran the length of the Buy-Right. Each was filled to running over with gift wrapped boxes. Daisy Ann had gone hog wild.

The whole roof was piled high with boxes of every size and shape several feet deep.

"Ain't it wonderful?" Daisy Ann asked Grit.

"I don't think I'll ever look at a gift-wrapped present again."

His fingers were bleeding and his arms ached.

"Maybe we can get Monroe to lend us a stuffed deer," she said. "He's into that stuffing animals stuff."

"Our deer ain't reindeer, Daisy Ann. Rudolph lives at the North Pole!"

"I know that!" she said. "But from way down in the parking lot, it wouldn't matter. We could dress up the antlers with holly and mistletoe and running cedar. Hey! I'll bet Big Mama's still got some of that burlap left over from the parade."

"Not on your life," said Grit. "I'm allergic to burlap and poison oak."

"Get outta here."

"I am! I wiped with some leaves once. Thought I was gonna die!"

"Running cedar ain't poison oak. Besides, it's winter."

"But it grows where poison oak does, Daisy Ann. And even in winter, those hairy poison oak vines are just hibernating. I don't care if their glossy leaves have fallen off. Those naked vines can make me break out just by looking at them."

The two were standing out in the parking lot next to the road. Daisy Ann wanted to get a good look at the view.

"Those white lights we strung over all them things will look amazing in the dark. Foslo says that Alvin Earl's excited.

I'm wondering if we shouldn't use florescent gift wrapping in those empty boxes in all those buggies, Grit? Bright, glowing colors would really be an eye catcher."

"The packages look fine. I'm beat. Besides, once the lights are shining, they'll shine like jellyfish at the bottom of the sea. I never knew there was that much cardboard in the world!"

"I guess you're right," she said, looking at her watch. "There's no time to rewrap them, anyhow. I gotta run Deke's Santa suit over to Foslo's. This is gonna be the best Christmas special the Buy-Right's ever had! Deke or no Deke!"

"Uh-huh," said Grit. "See ya later."

"I'll be there with sleigh bells and my red Christmas panties on!" Daisy Ann said, speeding off toward Foslo's house.

When Foslo answered the door, he was wearing a look on his face that was somewhere between mad as fire and the dog's expired.

"What is it, hon?" Daisy Ann asked.

"That dern boy has a fever of a hundred and two."

"What! Foslo! He can't be sick! Everything's in place.

I've advertised this all over the whole county. You said it would be great for the store. Attract folks from miles around.

What are we gonna do?

Those little kids!

They'll be heartbroken if Santa don't fall from the sky. Not to mention all that candy I got on the roof to rain down on them tykes! What are we gonna do?"

Foslo looked at the heaping pile of newspapers he gathered to take to the dump.

His daughter's pocket tape recorder rested on the fireplace mantle. She'd used it to tape her professors' lectures.

If Foslo remembered correctly, his son had some speakers in the shed.

A smile broke across Foslo's face.

"Honey, don't you worry one bit. Leave this to me. Leave the suit. Come back in two hours. We'll show this town the best Christmas spectacle they've ever seen."

"You sure, Foslo."

"Trust me, darlin'. This is gonna take the sag right outta the knees of their long johns!"