Free Merry Wives of Maggody by Joan Hess Page B

cigarette, “but I get the rules. I’ll take my turn using the boat as long as I’m here. after that, it’ll belong to the nine of you.”
    Everybody shuffled forward.
    • • •
    At eight o’clock sharp, Mrs. Jim Bob banged her gavel on the dinette table. The committee chairwomen, as well as their recruits, were jammed in the kitchen, all jabbering like a flock of grackles.
    Indignation was running high among the wives present. Most of their remarks included phrases like “Can you believe he had the nerve to…?” and “Who does he think he is to forbid me to…?”
    Joyce Lambertino was reduced to stuttery rage. Millicent McIlhaney had tears in her eyes. Cora Cranshaw’s face was getting splotchier by the minute, her hands flapping so wildly that Bopeep and Audley were dodging like boxers to avoid a stray punch.
    Brother Verber was doing his level best to hide in a corner, within reach of the pound cake but out of range should violence arise.
    Darla Jean decided the scene was worse than the high school girls’ restroom on junior prom night.
    “Order!” Mrs. Jim Bob shrieked, pounding the gavel with such fury that it sounded like a jackhammer. “This meeting is called to order!”
    The room quieted down, although most of the wives were replaying the recent arguments in their minds.
    “Darla Jean,” Mrs. Jim Bob said briskly, “announce the final figure.”
    “Eighty-two, which comes out to eight thousand and two hundred dollars. I deposited the checks at the bank in Farberville, like you said to, and I have the registration forms here.” Darla Jean wished this would be the end of her participation, but she knew Mrs. Jim Bob. She put the envelope on the table. “I wrote down all the names on a list. It’s in there, too.”
    “Very well. I have a bag of pin-on plastic name tags. Write each name on one and arrange them in alphabetical order in a shoe box. You’ll have a table in the tent for participants to sign in and pick up their information sheets.”
    “Mind your handwriting, Darla Jean,” said Miss Estes. “It tends to look like chicken scratches. Also, pay attention to the proper spelling of each name.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Mrs. Jim Bob moved on. “Elsie, is the hospitality committee ready?”
    Elsie blushed as everyone looked at her. “We sure are. The tent will be up by noon tomorrow. The tables and chairs are stored in Earl’s barn. It would have been handier to put them in Raz’s, but he was right rude about it. I suspect he’s got a few cases of his filthy moonshine hidden in there.”
    Brother Verber realized this was his cue to assert himself as the spiritual leader of his flock. His hands entwined over his heart, he stepped forward and intoned, “ ‘Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.’ First Corinthians, book six, verses nine and ten, for those who might want to study this passage.”
    Mrs. Jim Bob paused to regather her thoughts. “Is Raz causing any problems with the green committee, Eileen?”
    She shook her head. “No, he’s still letting Earl mow the pasture, and he agreed to keep his mule penned up until the tournament’s done with. Earl’s gonna mow a final time in the morning. For all I care, he can mow hisself right into Boone Creek! Why on God’s green earth does he have the right to tell me that I don’t have any business playing in this—”
    “Thank you, Eileen,” Mrs. Jim Bob cut in before everybody got all prickly again. “What about the food, Elsie?”
    “Muck Haskell over in Hasty is smoking briskets and chicken wings for us. He’s my second cousin-in-law once removed, so he’s doing it at cost. I have two big pans of scalloped potatoes in my freezer. Crystal will pick up buns,