Free Just an Ordinary Day: The Uncollected Stories of Shirley Jackson by Shirley Jackson Page A

also. Miss Morgan went along with the people she had been standing with, and once on the other side, all these people continued walking downtown until they reached the next corner and were stopped. The parade had halted here, and Miss Morgan found that she had caught up with the float representing the giant refrigerator. Farther back, the Boy Scouts had fallen out of their even lines, and were pushing and laughing. One of the children on the orchestra float was crying. While the parade halted, Miss Morgan and all the people she stood with were allowed to cross through the parade to the other side of the avenue. Once there, they waited to cross the next side street.
    The parade started again. The Boy Scouts came even with Miss Morgan, their lines straightening, and then the cause of the delay became known; twelve elephants, draped in blue, moved ponderously down the street; on the head of each was a girl wearing blue, with a great plume of blue feathers on her head; the girls swayed and rocked with the motion of the elephants. Another band followed, this one dressed in blue and gold, but the big drums still said X in blue. A new banner followed, reading “Find Miss X,” with twelve more heralds dressed in white, blowing on gold trumpets, and a man on a black horse who shouted through a megaphone, “Miss X is walking the streets of the city, she is watching the parade. Look around you, folks.”
    Then came a line of twelve girls, arm in arm, each one dressed as Miss X, with a red and gray hat, a red and gray tweed topcoat, and blue shoes. They were followed by twelve men each carrying two packages, the large brown package Miss Morgan was carrying, and the hatbox. They were all singing, a song of which Miss Morgan caught only the words “Find Miss X, get all those checks.”
    Leaning far out over the curb, Miss Morgan could see that the parade continued for blocks; she could see green and orange and purple, and far far away, yellow. Miss Morgan pulled uneasily at the sleeve of the woman next to her. “What’s the parade for?” she asked, and the woman looked at her.
    “Can’t hear you,” the woman said. She was a little woman, and had a pleasant face, and Miss Morgan smiled, and raised her voice to say, “I said, how long is this parade going to last?”
    “What parade?” she asked. “That one?” She nodded at the street. “I haven’t any idea, miss. I’m trying to get to Macy’s.”
    “Do you know anything about this Miss X?” Miss Morgan said daringly.
    The woman laughed. “It was over the radio,” she said. “Someone’s going to get a lot of prizes. You have to do some kind of a puzzle or something.”
    “What’s it for?” Miss Morgan asked.
    “Advertising,” the woman said, surprised.
    “Are you looking for Miss X?” Miss Morgan asked daringly.
    The woman laughed again. “I’m no good at that sort of thing,” she said. “Someone in the company of the people putting it on always wins those things, anyway.”
    Just then they were allowed to cross again, and Miss Morgan and the woman hurried across, and on down the next block. Walking beside the woman, Miss Morgan said finally, “I think I’m the Miss X they’re talking about, but I don’t know why.”
    The woman looked at her and said, “Don’t ask me” and then disappeared into the crowd of people ahead.
    Out in the street a prominent cowboy movie star was going by on horseback, waving his hat.
    Miss Morgan retreated along a quiet side street until she was far away from the crowds and the parade; she was lost, too far away from her office to get back without finding another taxi, and miles away from the address on the package. She saw a shoe repair shop, and struck by a sudden idea, went inside and sat down in one of the booths. The repair man came up to her and she handed him her shoes.
    “Shine?” he said, looking at the shoes.
    “Yes,” Miss Morgan said. “Shine.” She leaned back in the booth, her eyes shut. She was vaguely