Free Big Stone Gap by Adriana Trigiani Page B

new.
    “If he’s alive, are you gonna find him?”
    Who has time to think about Mario da Schilpario? I’m busy. I have the Pharmacy, deliveries, the Rescue Squad, the Drama, and the Kiss.
    “You gonna marry Mr. Tipton?”
    “Don’t tell me people are talking about that, too.”
    She nods; they are.
    “Well, Pearl, I don’t think it’s anybody’s damn business who I marry, or who my father was, or what size my underwear is.”
    “Good for you. Now you’re mad!” Pearl says this with great pride.
    She’s right. I’m mad. But what she doesn’t know, and what I don’t know, is I’m just getting started.
    Ethel Bartee’s Beauty Salon is tucked behind the post office in a trailer. I take the back alley from the Pharmacy and cut through the loading zone to get to Ethel. She fixed the trailer up real nice with window boxes overflowing with red geraniums. The tip end of my braid is like crispy straw; I need a haircut.
    The door is propped open with a drum of pink shampoo. Ethel is putting up Iva Lou’s hair.
    “Can you take me for a quick trim?” I ask sweetly.
    Ethel, stout with a perfect bubble hairstyle that matches her shape, looks up over her bifocals as she finishes winding Iva Lou’s last curl around a plastic roller.
    “I guess so,” she says, annoyed.
    “I should’ve called.”
    “Yes, you should’ve. But you know I ain’t the type to turn nobody away.” Ethel gives me the critical once-over. “Especially not no one who needs a clip. I got two comb-outs before I can git to you, though.” Ethel indicates her customers under the dryers.
    “I can wait.”
    Iva Lou rises. “I’m gonna sit outside and let it dry in the sun, honey. It’ll save you on your electric bill.” Iva Lou cocks her big head full of jumbo curlers, giving me a signal to follow her outside.
    “Ethel’s cranky.” Iva Lou lights up a cigarette. “I
heard
,” she says, looking at me directly.
    “Is everybody talking about it?” I ask.
    “Let’s put it this way. I make six stops in the Gap. It was the topic of conversation on each one.” Iva Lou points her cigarette toward the trailer door. “And the two biddies under the dryer bubbles had themselves a field day before you dropped by.”
    For a moment I am overwhelmed by it all. I figured my paternity was my business. I lean back on the steps and close my eyes.
    “You know what?” Iva Lou says brightly. “I think it’s exciting news.”
    “You do?”
    “Follow me on this. All your life you was one thing. And now you can be something else if you want! Somebody completely different. You can actually start yourself over from scratch. Turn yourself into what you have always wanted to be!” Iva Lou continues with her Knute Rockne pep-up, and I sit up and shift so I can see the back of my pharmacy. The building looks in even worse shape from here. The mortar between the bricks is chipped, leaving spaces. They look awful. I make a mental note to get them repointed. It annoys me, though. I shouldn’t have to fix them; they had a lifetime guarantee.
    Closing night of the Drama signals the start of the Powell Valley High School football season. My theater life winds down and Theodore’s kicks in, as he is responsible for designing and executing home-game halftime shows. The fans are as competitive about the shows as they are the football games. Every year we wonder how Theodore will top himself, and every year he does. Our downtown stores are festooned with flags in our high school colors, bright Carolina blue and ruby red. Zackie hauls out an eight-foot papier-mâché Viking, spray-painted silver, letting anyone passing through town know that we are “the Vikings, the Mighty, Mighty Vikings.”
    Nellie Goodloe finally got a meeting with Theodore and impressed upon him the importance of Elizabeth Taylor and John Warner’s visit coming up at the end of October. All eyes will be on us to deliver a weekend to remember. There is an excitement in the air anyway, as it is