Free Remains to Be Scene by R. T. Jordan Page A

“Everybody, please meet Elizabeth.”
    The trio erupted with friendly overlapping greetings.
    “Mom,” Missie said, “I’d like to introduce you to your favorite star.”
    As Polly smiled, waiting to play the role of the humble and unworthy superstar, Elizabeth snapped, “Gloria Swanson’s dead.”
    Everyone but Missie giggled at the unexpected response. “As a matter of fact, that’s true,” Missie said trying to conceal her embarrassment. “But I meant your favorite living star is here.”
    “All the good ones are gone,” Elizabeth grumbled.
    The old woman was obviously in a sullen mood and in need of a laxative or a stronger dose of whatever pills she popped to keep her out of a sanitarium.
    “Not all of them, Mother,” Missie said, her patience beginning to fray.
    Elizabeth shot back, “For crying out loud, you’d better give me a hint. I can’t see more than a blur, so I can’t imagine who you think will impress me.” She castigated her daughter as though they were the only ones in the room.
    Missie stumbled nervously with her words. “Um, remember, I said that the famous Polly Pepper was coming to the house? She’s graced us with her presence, Mom. This is Miss Pepper.”
    In a husky voice that matched her severe look, Elizabeth dramatically clutched her hands to her chest and sighed loudly. “I’ll be damned,” she said. “I guess this is supposed to be the happiest day of my life.”
    “As a matter of fact, Mom really was your biggest fan,” Missie acknowledged.
    Polly melted, although the past tense of Missie’s affirmation wasn’t lost on her.
    “I liked you in that Palmolive dish washing detergent commercial you did oh-so many years ago. Before my situation,” Elizabeth conceded, expressing a tad more sincerity and obliquely referring to her near blindness.
    Polly thought for a moment. “Dish detergent?” she said. She turned to Tim and asked, “When did I ever…?”
    Elizabeth stepped on Polly’s attempted recall of her early career. “Don’t be modest. I bought the damn soap because of you. Although I can’t say the stuff gobbled up grease the way you promised. But I sparked to you and your television show,” she said. “Now I remember.”
    Again Polly pretended to be overjoyed, if a bit dubious, and offered a plastic smile. She was about to repeat her stock comment about how much she missed the years of being on television each week, when Elizabeth interrupted. “Whatever happened to your cute brother?”
    “Brother?” Polly said, looking to Tim and Placenta for guidance.
    Missie playfully hugged her mother and said, “Um, Mom, Miss Pepper doesn’t have a brother.”
    “Of course she does,” Elizabeth spat and wriggled away from her daughter’s embrace.
    “Actually, I’m an only child,” Polly concurred. “Alas.”
    “Listen,” Elizabeth charged, “I remember quite clearly. “One of you was a little bit country. And the other was a little bit rock and roll. Alas .” She mimicked Polly’s affected language.
    Tim caught on. “You’re thinking of Donnie and Marie Osmond. Way different generations. Although Polly’s got a lot of big teeth too. And a huge overbite. Go ahead and put your hands on her face. See for yourself,” he urged.
    Polly’s eyes grew wide with the fear of a stranger’s fingertips tracing her every line and pore. She automatically took a nearly imperceptible step backward.
    Missie added, “Easy mistake to make, Mom. Polly and the Osmonds both had musical variety shows. All that singing and dancing and special guests each week. Plus you were seeing double at that time. But this is Miss Pepper. From ‘The Polly Pepper Playhouse.’ We watched her every Friday night when I was a kid.”
    Elizabeth reluctantly gave in.
    For the sake of ingratiating herself into Missie’s life, Polly pretended to be genuinely touched by the old woman’s greeting. “Oh, dear Elizabeth,” she said, “you’ve made my day. I’m so delighted to meet