Love Songs: The Wrong Note - A Collection of Short Stories

The Most Beautiful Cat Contest

Bartley's was giving away a twenty-five dollar grand prize for the most beautiful cat in Grantham County. Twenty-five big fat lolahpahloozas.

A fortune.

Certainly more than Dawsey had ever seen in his entire lifetime.

But then again, he was only nine years old.

Twenty-five smackeroos.

Twenty clams free and clear, if you subtracted the five dollars Gam was sure to make him put into the offering plate at the Church of Freewill Faith, Hope, and Charity to All Lesser Mortals, (destitute of members possessing any of those righteous qualities, according to Gam), but attended, nevertheless, faithfully by the gray-haired matron every Sunday morning rain or shine.

Dawsey's attendance was less than freewill, but mandatory, since the old lady made sure that he always accompanied her, against all protests, excuses, and flat-out bald-faced lies Dawsey could think up.

Well, five dollars was a big sacrifice to the offering plate that would be passed by him, and sure to be scrutinized by Gam all-seeing eyes, but worth it, Dawsey decided.

Those were Gam's terms.

He was welcomed to enter a cat, Gam had told him, but as it was one of her cats, and five dollars was her price to be placed without whining into the offering plate if he won, Dawsey decided that he could stomach the loss of the fiver and keep his mouth shut.

"I think that's a mighty fair deal since you'll make twenty dollars profit," Gam said to Dawsey.

Since Dawsey could see no other way around it, he reluctantly agreed.

Dawsey was sure that God did not need his contribution, but he knew Gam would not budge on this, so he kept these thoughts to himself. She'd welch on the deal if he put up too much fuss, taking back her cat, and then Dawsey would have nothing to enter.

He wouldn't stand a fart's chance in a whirlwind of winning the prize with no entry.

With the excitement of a great military campaign, the two discussed his plans for the winnings over breakfast that very morning.

If he won.

But Gam was careful to remind Dawsey that he could very well lose.

"Remember, son, there's no certainty you'll win. If you win, you can surely buy whatever you wish with the money. But winning's still a big 'if', Dawsey, for many will enter, and the competition is sure to be stiff."

"Ain't no 'if' about it, Gam. Trust me. That money's as good as in my pocket. All I gotta do is pick me out the purtiest cat from the yard."

"Just one thing you oughtta' give real thought to, Dawsey."

"What's that?"

"Town's pretty far away. How you plan on getting that cat to the contest?"

"Figure Lamar will get us there," said Dawsey. "Uncle Henry's bound to let Lamar borrow his truck if he asks real nice."

"Well, if you ain't got it all figured out, Dawsey, I don't know who has. You're probably right, though. Henry owes Lamar quite a few favors. He surely does, and he's always been good to Lamar. Alright Dawsey, pick out your cat, 'n we'll see if we can line up the truck."

Dawsey spent the rest of the morning sizing up the many felines that lounged about the yard.

That afternoon, at precisely the appointed time, Uncle Henry's truck rolled to a stop in front of Gam's house. Lamar was in the driver's seat.